#sorry I didn’t choose to be born Catholic

[forgive-the-sea]

okay…maybe I have a thing for feet in a religious way…in reverent devotion kinda way

[corn-fanfiction]

got a damien karras idea: karras x vampire reader (i imagine them as male but any gender is also fine). the idea is vampire reader notices karras’ ordeal, corners him in a night lit alley and gives him a deal: they can make it so he can be immune to the demon at a terrible cost, only to be refused. they show respect to his faith before bidding farewell, kind of a sad story. they can pepper in charms in between but this isn’t mandatory, for example turning his jaw or teasing him “you know little, don’t you?”. im fine if this doesnt get picked up tho, have a nice day!

Anon...when I tell you I SPRINTED to my desk.

I hope this is what you wanted. I love this sad-eyed hunk and his rando vampire friend.

-·=»◆‡«=·-♡·=»◆‡«=·-

Blood of the Father (Damien Karras and M!Vampire)

Rated: T I guess?

Tags/warnings: ANGST, CATHOLIC GUILT, gays being mean to each other, hurt no comfort, religious trauma

It is the greatest of ironies that He cannot step inside the church. Instead, He has to resort to watching from outside the stained-glass window. He watches in the heat, watches in the cold, watches from the well-shaded tunnel of an alleyway. Georgetown was so changeable, but darkness and dimly lit streets are always reliable. The Bible is reliable, regardless of how others choose to change it. But religion? Church? Priests? These are wavering, tenuous. Born on shaky legs and dying on broken bones.

Damien Karras is one so flappable.

He watches him in particular for a very long time. He’s not His only subject, but certainly his favorite, for as long as the dance lasts, anyway. And it does not last long. Yet another leaf threatening to break away with a November wind. 

He’s watching from the ground below, hands in his pockets, the wet leaves illuminated by a nearby lamppost. A swift change in direction and the wind catches a maple and tugs it away with a sigh. It put up what fight it could. Even weak soldiers are still soldiers.

Or Jesuits. He turns when he hears him coming from a half-mile away. Coming from the Macneil residence, bundled up in his windbreaker. Collar turned against the heavy rain. He adjusts his collar, straightens his jacket. Strides along the opposite end of the sidewalk. They meet at the steps and He pulls the priest into a tight space between the steps and the brick casing of a house. 

Damien Karras barely breathes. Whatever he’s just seen makes every simple fright pale in comparison. He’d be jealous if He didn’t feel so sorry for him.

“I don’t have any money,” Damien says. He feels his arms under the windbreaker and smirks. He’s strong, toned, muscles well hidden under any choice of clothing. He could push Him away, really fight him, make a break for it. But he won’t. 

“I know. It’s a helluva good thing I don’t want any.”

To his credit, Damien does break His arms away. He peers back out onto the narrow street, in the direction Damien came from.

“You have no idea what you’re up against. But I do. I’ve been watching you, Dimmy. Not like the other one. But we’re much different, anyways. He’s a certified devil. I’m just…well. I’m a night trader. But I can still offer you a fantastic deal.”

Damien tries to walk as soon as the last syllable leaves His red lips but His arms brace against the brick and the priest can’t budge past them.

“Don’t be rude. It’s un-Christian.”

“What do you want?”

“It’s about time you asked. Do you know the only thing that can really, truly save your soul from the devil?”

Damien doesn’t answer. He doesn’t bother to say God, or repentance, or prayer. The man leans his face close to where its freezing skin gives Damien a chill.

“To be a devil yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sometimes that’s true. Not in this case, however. We have encountered one of the few instances where I know better than anyone, actually. Aren’t you the least bit interested? You can withstand the temptation of that devil down the street, save that little girl’s life? Be a hero?”

“I withstand the temptation of one devil by giving into another?”

“He’s quick,” He sucks against his sharp teeth. “To be a martyr is the best thing in your God’s eyes, isn’t it? This way, you get the title without having to deal with the whole dying business.”

“You still haven’t explained your offer.”

He smiles.

“I am offering eternal life, eternal death, wakeless days and sleepless nights. Sanguine. You’d be immortal, imperceptable, and all for the price of your soul. Isn’t that nice? And you wouldn’t be without company, either. You’d have me, of course. I’ve been watching you, Damien. I’ve seen you, the way no one else has or will. Not even your precious Jesuit friend. You fear for your eternal soul and his anyway. I’m no mind-reader, but I’d say there’s some mutual feeling there. That’s another benefit they don’t tell you about. No one can truly judge you if you cannot die.”

“You can die. Anything can die. And there is one to judge.”

“True. But if you do something much worse first, sodomy disappears to the bottom of the list.”

Damien’s fist collides with the man’s face quick enough that He’s able to register it right before it happens, and He allows it. His head barely moves, his lip splits, but it does not bleed.

“I could go on. Abandoning your poor mother. God cares more about that than who you share a bed with.”

“You son of a bitch-” Damien grabs the lapel of His coat and draws him near. He shakes with rage and tears roll down his sculpted cheeks, mixing with the rain.

“If you don’t believe in a God, then what does it matter? Bring it down to science. I said I’ve seen you. The very idea keeps you up at night. How can you fight against something if you don’t believe in the one weapon you have against it?”

Damien pushes Him away, wipes his mouth with his knuckles. 

“Whatever it is, I’m not broken enough to buy it. Whatever you think you know about me or anyone else is false.”

“And yet you’re still here. Come on. Lay down this burden. Don’t be so selfish as to pawn it off on someone else. How do you think this ends for you? For her?”

Damien looks at the ground. He clenches and unclenches his fist.

“If that, that thing can exist, and if you can exist, and these things you believe in, then there has to be something, or someone to balance it all out, hasn’t there?”

“You’re asking me to tell you if God exists?”

Damien shakes his head, spilling more water droplets onto the sidewalk. He watches them with a hunger.

“I don’t need to hear anything else you have to say.”

The man straightens. “The pain would go away. The responsibility. The guilt.”

“It’s what makes us human.”

The man leans a hand against the brick wall beside Damien’s head. He smiles, then sighs. Wipes his face. 

“I can’t twist your arm?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hm.” A beat. “I lied earlier. The guilt doesn’t go away. I don’t know why. But it doesn’t.”

He extends a finger, exposing a long, sharp nail and traces the line beside Damien’s mouth. 

“You know little, don’t you?”

Damien waits until He takes His hand away to respond.

“I know enough.”

He nods.

“Yes, I think you do.”

He withdraws his arm from the wall and Damien rushes out into the sidewalk. The man follows him slowly after a spare moment, leans against one of the posts of the staircase. Watches him jog.

“Goodnight, Father. And good luck.”

Damien looks back only for a moment, as if to make sure it really was this stranger that was speaking. He doesn’t respond before disappearing from view. The man sighs, turns towards the MacNeil house, mutters something in a long forgotten language, then disappears from Georgetown forever.

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Jessica: A Poem

Discovering the Jessica Rabbit RP blogs of @aparticularbandit last year has inspired me to start writing again. I did work on a few fanfics as a teenager, but then I fell away from writing, and I'd like to pick it back up. It's my New Year's Resolution for 2024.

So here's a poem about Jessica Rabbit. It's inspired by a brief line from the official Roger Rabbit comics, where Roger casually mentions that he used a butterfly net on Jessica the first time he met her. (And nope, there's no other context given.)

This poem is a first draft, so I welcome constructive criticism.

I’m told I must be seen to be believed,

But I have no control over my image. 

Were I to print a portrait for you here,

That would be called a breach of copyright,

And those who own me now are rich in funds

To buy the finest lawyers in the land. 

So picture, in your mind, a female form,

With legs so long they stretch from Saturday

To Monday like a three-day weekend, and

A body snaking out and in and out,

And topped with orange locks like dampened fire,

And emerald eyes, and plump and pouting lips. 

That’s me.  And that is what I’ve always been,

Since someone dared to stain his fingers red

With paint to drape me in a sequined gown

And panted, breathing on me, giving me

The life and animation he required

To make his films.  Yes, acting is my trade. 

I’ve had another.  It would make you blush. 

Now, I must stress, I had no choice in that. 

I had no interest in the act itself;

It was a job, I did it rather well,

But was it something I looked forward to

With girlish glee?  No, not at all.  Listen,

I did not hate, but neither did I love. 

Those owners told me, “Jump;” I asked, “How high?” 

Those owners told me, “Down;” I asked, “How low?” 

What power did I have to utter, “No”? 

I truly did believe this was my role,

My purpose, yes, the reason I was made:

To be the one that husbands hurried to

Whenever they had need of rough relief. 

I did not ask if I deserved to live

A life where I could choose my own desires,

Could choose where I would go, what I would do –

A life of joy and peace and liberty. 

It was self-evident that I did not. 

I had been drawn, not born, and that made me

A servant to the gracious human beings

Who gave the greatest gift, of life, to us,

The inkblots.  We were servants.  And that was

A fact as clear as day, just like the fact

That one man known colloquially as “Pope”

Was Catholic.  So I sank into my pit,

The lowest of already lowly folk. 

What pulled me out and finally set me free? 

A butterfly net.  No, I’m serious. 

One day I took a walk into the woods,

And it was spring, and flowers carpeted

The forest floor, and I was passing time

Until the night came, when I would be needed. 

I thought I heard the slaps of massive feet –

Then something like a stick wacked into me. 

The impact knocked me backwards into mesh. 

I sat there, tangled, reeling from the blow,

And then I heard a voice above my head:

“Jeepers!  So sorry, miss!  I’ll let you out! 

See, I was aiming for this butterfly –

I didn’t see you there!”  I had to laugh. 

That was the first time I had ever laughed. 

How could I not have laughed?  How could he not

Have seen me?  How?  I never could escape

The leering eyes and lolling tongues of men. 

Surely this fellow was a fellow too? 

Then why would he be any different?  Well,

I dug a high heel in and cut the net,

And then I stood and shook the ropes away,

And turned, and I beheld my captor – and

I realised I towered over him. 

He was a creature made of ink and paint,

As I was, only he was hairier

And shorter, and his clothes were like a clown’s. 

His eyes and ears and nose were larger, too. 

He trembled in my shadow, looking up,

Expecting me to fly into a rage

And beat him till his snow-white hair turned red. 

Instead, I simply asked, “Are you all right?” 

That must have been a welcome change for him. 

We painted ones see little kindness from

The humans who created us, the ones

Who ought to love us dearly, but do not,

So we must give each other kindness.  Well,

That’s how I’ve tried to live my life, although

Few people tend to want my company

(Unless they’re paying for my services),

Not even other painted slaves.  After

I asked this fellow if he was all right,

The man exhaled, apologised again,

And asked me who I was, and where I worked,

And how I found myself within the woods. 

I answered, and I asked him questions too. 

We almost could have stayed a thousand years,

Among the daisies, asking, answering,

But all too soon, the Sun was lowering;

I had to go; he promised he would meet

With me again.  He kept his word.  He came

To find me just outside the studio

And asked me what I’d like to do that day –

The first time anyone gave me a choice. 

We spent two years in pleasant company,

And then, one summer’s day, we tied the knot. 

I strode into the chapel, dressed in white,

And my eyes found his, and they never left. 

We’re still a wife and husband.  No-one thought

That we would last this long.  How could a dame

With beauty such as mine dote on a fool? 

What do I see in him?  He treats me well;

He buys me candy in a heart-shaped box

And takes me to the finest restaurants

He can afford – and I buy gifts for him,

Usually clothes, because he always rips

The ones he has.  I love the way his face

Lights up when he unwraps them, tries them on. 

What do I see in him?  He writes to me –

He sends me letters when he’s called away,

Composes poems of love when he is near. 

We call each other many silly names. 

And when the weekend comes, the kitchen is

The place we spend most time, as we attempt

New recipes for different kinds of cake. 

(My favourite kind is still the carrot cake. 

He’s told me carrot is his favourite, too.) 

What does he see in me?  I dare not ask,

For fear that I will break the magic spell

That’s binding us together.  So instead,

I sit, and run my fingers through his hair. 

What do I see in him?  Quite simply, he

Was, and still is, the only man who tried

To find out who I was, and love that dame,

Instead of thinking he knew all of me

Based only on my looks, and judging me. 

What do I see in him? 

He makes me laugh. 

[uncloseted]

there's a part of me that still thinksa bortion is murder. i act like i support it to fit in but deep down i dont. please just listen. i think forcing someone to go through a pregnagncy they don't want is inhuman but it also feels inhuman to kill a baby and i dont like thsi idea that if youre 4 weeks pregnant and you want it its a baby but if youre 4 week pregnant and dont want it then its just a clump of cells thats just not how scence works. so theres this woman who was forced to get an .

Anonymous asked:

abortion and she was 6 months pregnant and apparently th baby waws born alive but it died shortly after from ashpyxia and i just dont know what to think. i know forcing smeone to get an abortion is just as bad as forcing them to give birth and that theres no such thing as a six month abortion and at least wher e i live abortions are only available until week 14 but like wwhat if someone is 15 or 16 weeks or 7 months, do they not have a choice anymore? please dont think im a bigot im not im so

Anonymous asked:

sorry i just dont want to be brainwashed by ANYONE, pro life or pro choice and im just so easily influenceable i just want to support whats right you know

No worries at all! I don't think you're a bigot and I'm glad that you want to engage with this issue critically. I'm happy to give you the facts as they stand and offer you my perspective on the issue. Apologies in advance that this is a bit long, but please try to stick with me until the end! All of this is important in understanding the different sides of this discussion.

There are a few main categories I want to talk about in this answer: legal, science, politics, and culture. For now, I'm going to avoid delving into any religious or metaphysical questions about what is and isn't considered "a person", since while those conversations are interesting, I don't think they're particularly useful in the context of discussions about abortion. As Harry Blackmun wrote in the court opinion for Roe v. Wade, "we need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins. When those trained in the respective disciplines of medicine, philosophy, and theology are unable to arrive at any consensus, the judiciary, at this point in the development of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate."

Legality

Starting with legal issues, there are a few points I think it's important to make in order to get a sense of how we relate to abortion. Abortions are legal in 98% of countries. 34% of countries, including the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand most European countries, and China, allow abortions on the basis of a the pregnant person's request, without needing to prove that there is risk to life, risk to health, risk to the fetus, economic or social reasons that abortion is a necessity, or extenuating circumstances (such as the pregnancy being a product of rape or incest). The vast majority (93%) of countries with highly restrictive abortion laws, such as outlawing abortion except in cases where the pregnant person is endangered, are in developing regions. There are five countries that completely outlaw abortion. These are: Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Malta, Nicaragua, and the Vatican City, all countries where the Catholic church has significant influence.

Of the countries that do allow abortion, there is always a limit on how far into a pregnancy a person can be when they choose to terminate. Beyond that limit, the person doesn't have a choice anymore, and must carry the pregnancy to term (except in extenuating circumstances). The most common limit is 12 weeks (3 months), although some countries allow abortion up to the point of "viability", where the fetus can live outside the mother's womb with artificial aid. Typically, the point of viability is around 24 weeks (6 months). In the US, 87% of abortions are performed before 12 weeks, and 92.2% were performed at 13 weeks or fewer. For reference, pregnancies are typically around 40 weeks long.

Forced abortion is illegal in almost every country, including the US and the UK, and it is considered an act of violence against women. It is just as bad as forcing someone to give birth, which is why all countries do their best to prevent it from happening. While forced abortions can and do happen, particularly to victims of sex trafficking, I think the solution to this issue is to put policies into place that protect vulnerable women, instead of trying to ban abortion entirely.

Science

So, most countries allow abortions up to 12 weeks. What does that actually look like in terms of the fetus? Here's a timeline of fetal stages of growth:

Weeks 1-4: at this stage, the "baby" is actually an embryo. It starts out as just a fertilized egg. The amniotic sac forms around it, and the placenta develops. The eyes, mouth, lower jaw, and throat are in very early development. Blood cells are taking shape. By the end of week 4, the embryo is smaller than a grain of rice. It is very literally "just a clump of cells" at this point.

Weeks 5-9: the "baby" is still an embryo. Its facial features begin to develop, folds of skin that will eventually become ears grow, tiny buds that will eventually grow into arms and legs form, the neural tube, digestive tract, and sensory organs all begin to develop. Bone starts to replace cartilage. At about 6 weeks, a heart beat can be detected. After week 8, the baby is considered a fetus instead of an embryo, at which point the fetus is about one inch long.

Weeks 9-12: the fetus' arms, hands, fingers, feet, and toes are fully formed. It may be able to open and close its fists and mouth. Ears are formed, and its reproductive organs begin to develop. By the end of week 12, the fetus has all of their organs and limbs, and their circulatory and urinary systems are working, but everything needs to continue to develop in order to become functional. At the end of week 12, the fetus is about 4 inches long.

It is important to know that the miscarriage rate is highest in the first trimester (before week 12). Among women who know they're pregnant (typically further along than 6 or 7 weeks), 10-20% will miscarry. 30%-50% of all fertilized eggs miscarry.

Other important developmental markers include:

During month 4 (weeks 16-20), you can see the sex of the fetus.

During month 5 (weeks 20-24), the fetus starts moving around.

Between week 22 and week 24, brain waves appear in the cerebral cortex.

At week 24, the fetus may be able to survive if it is born prematurely, provided it has intensive care.

Somewhere between week 26 and week 30, the fetus may be able to feel pain, although we don't know that for sure.

A fetus is not capable of thinking, communicating, reasoning, self-motivation, feeling emotions, or consciousness. They don't have a concept of the self, and they don't know that they exist. They are essentially sedated for the entirety of the pregnancy. Since we use "brain death" as the primary criteria for death, it makes sense to me that we might consider "brain life" (the point where a fetus exhibits brain activity) as the point at which a fetus becomes a person.

While some people will refer to an embryo as a "baby" from the time they discover they're pregnant, scientifically, it is a clump of cells, whether that clump is allowed to continue to grow or not. It's not something we would recognize as a baby, or be able to interact with as if it were a baby. An embryo is a precursor to a baby, kind of like how a seed is a precursor to a plant.

Some other arguments

I want to quickly touch on some other arguments for abortion rights that people make. I'm not going to delve deeply into them, but it didn't feel right to leave them out entirely. These are arguments that don't depend on whether or not a fetus can be considered a person.

Bodily Rights

There are many situations in which we prioritize individual bodily rights over the right of someone else to live. For example, we don't force people to donate organs to people who are dying, even though a donated organ would save their life. Advocates for abortion rights argue that those same bodily rights should be extended to a pregnant person.

Deprivation

This argument usually looks something like, "but what if that fetus was going to cure cancer when it grew up!" Basically, it's saying that abortion is morally wrong because it deprives the fetus (and the world) of a valuable future. To me, this completely ignores the deprivation that already exists by forcing a person to carry and birth a baby they don't want, and potentially the deprivation that comes with raising that child. People who make this argument never seem to ask, "what if the pregnant person was going to cure cancer?"

Slippery Slope

Some people argue that normalizing and legalizing abortion may lead to people also accepting euthanasia. I am unconvinced by this for two reasons. 1. Slippery slope is a logical fallacy and 2. I absolutely do think we should legalize euthanasia for certain situations.

Religion

I don't want to dig too far into this one, but what I will say is that the US is a country that (at least nominally) has a separation of church and state, and the religious beliefs that other people hold should not infringe on a person's rights to make choices about their own life.

History and Politics

The practice of abortion itself is incredibly old. The Sanskrit epic Ramayana, which dates to the 7th century BCE, describes abortion being practiced by surgeons and barbers. In the Assyrian Code of Assura, circa 1075 BCE, a woman is allowed to procure an abortion except when it's against her husband's wishes. The first recorded evidence of induced abortion is from the Egyptian Ebers Papyrus in 1550 BCE. Japanese documents show records of induced abortion from as early as the 12th century, and it became more prevalent during the Edo period. It is considered to be unlikely that abortion was punished in Ancient Greece or ancient Rome. All major Jewish religious movements allow abortion in order to save the life or health of a pregnant woman, and often support abortion for other reasons as well. Christianity has a more complicated relationship to abortion, for reasons that I'll go into in a bit, but for now let's just note that there very much were ancient Christians who believed abortion was morally permissible at least some of the time. Before the 19th century CE, first-trimester abortion was widely practiced and was legal under common law throughout the English speaking world, including the US and UK.

The reason I bring all of this up is because the political debate over abortion isn't really that old, and the debate tends not to actually be about the morality of abortion as an act so much as it is a proxy for other issues. The first backlash against abortion in the English Speaking world was in the 19th century, and was a direct reaction to the women's rights movement, which was starting during that time. In the US, anti-abortion laws began to appear as early as the 1820s, but picked up in earnest by the late 1860s. These laws were introduced for many reasons, including the fact that abortions were being provided by untrained people who were not members of medical societies and concerns about the safety of abortifacients. By 1900, abortion was a felony in every US state, but they continued to become increasingly available. By the 1930s, licensed physicians performed an estimated 800,000 abortions a year.

Jumping forward a little bit, let's talk about the history of abortion in the US just before Roe v. Wade. It's estimated that in the 50s and 60s, between 200,000 to 1.2 million abortions were being performed per year, even though they were illegal. Throughout that same time, the second wave feminist movement was growing, and was increasingly advocating for birth control and liberalized abortion laws. As a reaction to second wave feminism, a number of anti-abortion organizations, primarily led by Catholic institutions, cropped up to mobilize against the legalization of abortion. It should be noted that, at the time, abortion was not an issue for evangelical Christian groups. In the 1960s, 17 states legalized abortion for a variety of different circumstances. Then in 1973, Roe v. Wade happens, ruling that a pregnant woman has the right to choose to have an abortion without excessive government restriction. The ruling was 7-2 in favor of legalizing abortion. Even after Roe v. Wade, Christian Evangelicals were neutral to positive on the ruling. It's only after 1980 that Evangelical Christians started to organize around abortion as a political issue and joined the Catholics to form what we now think of as the Christian Right. There's a lot to say about that and why that switch happened, but for the sake of brevity, just know that the evangelical backlash against legalized abortion in the US started not as a moral crusade, but as a way of convincing people to vote for Ronald Regan instead of Jimmy Carter (who wanted to de-segregate schools). No political debate happens in a vacuum, and it's important to understand what other factors might have been at play when looking at where these debates come from and how the sides formed.

Culture

Lastly, let's talk a little bit about the cultural impacts of banning or legalizing abortion. The right to have or not have a child is necessary in order for women to achieve equality with men. Countries with high gender equality, such as Iceland, Finland, Norway, New Zealand, and Sweden, also have easily accessible abortion options. Criminalization of abortion disproportionately impacts poor women and women of color, and does nothing to address the systemic issues that may cause them to require abortions in the first place.

Researchers from the WHO and University of Massachusetts found that banning abortion is an inefficient way to reduce abortion rates; in countries where abortions were restricted, the number of unintended pregnancies actually increased, and the proportion of unintended pregnancies ending in abortion also increased. When abortion is banned, women aren't not having abortions; they're having illegal abortions that are done unsafely.

There is also some evidence to suggest that legalized abortion actually decreases crime rates. 20 years after the legalization of abortion in the US, there was an unprecedented nationwide decline of the crime rate (including murders, incidentally). The drop in crime is thought by some to be a result of the fact that individuals who had a higher statistical probability of committing crimes (people who grew up as unwanted children in poverty) were not being born.

Which brings me to my next point- the majority of people who are "pro-life" (at least in the US) aren't really pro-life. They're pro-birth. If they were truly pro-life, they would be interested in making sure that all of those babies had their needs met after they're born. They would be interested in making sure those babies can lead long, healthy, safe, and productive lives. They would be for universal healthcare, expanded social safety nets, parental leave from jobs, universal basic income, raising the minimum wage, mandated vacation time, increasing funding for public schools, decriminalizing drugs, abolishing prisons or at least reforming the police. They would be against the death penalty (ironically, some of them are actually for the death penalty for women who have had abortions), and for increased access to birth control, comprehensive sex-ed in schools, increased gun legislation, against war and nuclear weapons, for enforced mask wearing to prevent people from needlessly dying from a global pandemic... but those issues don't factor into their "pro-life" stance. They're for "the baby gets born and then has to pull itself up by its bootstraps like the rest of us."

Closing Thoughts

Look. I'm not super jazzed about abortions. I understand how they can feel like an ethical issue. I think we should do what we can to reduce the number of abortions that are performed- teaching comprehensive sex-ed in schools, making birth control and emergency contraceptive options widely accessible, letting men know that reversible vasectomies are an option. I think we should make abortion easier to access, so those who do need it can make the decision early in the pregnancy. But I also think that it's a very personal decision, one that's irreversibly life altering, and the person who's going to experience the life altering event should be the one who decides what happens. 65 year old conservative, Christian white men who will never be pregnant (and frequently don't really know how the female body works) shouldn't get to make that decision for them. As someone for whom pregnancy would be life threatening, I want to know that I have options should that situation present itself someday.

[nightbloomwitch]

All the Wizards I've Loved Before: Inspirations for the Darkling - Intermission with the Vampire

Update: I pulled it together after all, imagine that

Sorry this week’s update is a bit behind schedule because I have been going thru it. 2021 has now taken four favourite and formative writers from me.

After several days of mainlining Catholic erotica in memorium, the thought of returning to TGV was not all enticing, but here, have some very unedited sketchy thoughts about vampires until the next Dragonlance chapter is finished.

Farewell Anne, you caused some strife over the years, but nonetheless you were a real one, one of the greatest authors of the last century, and I hope the Cosmic Mysteries are just as epic as you imagined them to be.

Thank you for Gabrielle (her himbo son and his sulky boyfriend are ok too I guess)

"No matter what's gone down, there's some capacity to understand that redeems us...we're inherently good, and that real evil is almost a fiction. Even if you get in the most evil character's mind, like Lestat's mind, you're going to find he's basically a good guy making certain decisions."

- Conversations with Anne Rice (1996)

The later books have their highs and lows but just

the fact that we left Lestat as the beloved leader of the vampires who has built a safe haven for them where they are all taken care of and living their best lives together in peace

means a lot to me, considering, you know

Lestat was in included one of Leigh's Darkling inspiration blog posts (I’ve now added the screenshot to the introduction); the Brat Prince has about as much in common with any of the other characters she’s mentioned, and in some ways he’s more relevant than the rest, but I left him out of my final list for this project because she only mentioned him once as a 'maybe'.

But what the heck, I’m sad (even more than usual) and I won’t be at peace until I’ve risen and fallen and risen again, thirsted and loved and lost, raged and laughed and cried with Anne’s dark alter ego one more time so

Lets Read: The Vampire Chronicles

(check the bottom of the Introduction post for the reshuffled order of texts)

Lestat my darling angel I am so sorry I left you out but now I will make it right.

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Finishing your first novel and having it turn out to be a mess is understandable, everyone has done that and it’s the fault of the editors for letting it get to publication, but when you repeatedly say ‘I was inspired by monumental and beloved genre classics Dragonlance/Stephen King/the Vampire Chronicles etc’ and imply that you have somehow righted a historical wrong by having the wizard’s ‘victim’ murder him, then you’re putting yourself in a whole ‘nother league, cruisin’ for an analytical bruisin’.

How a lonely immortal person can find comfort and purpose when surrounded by mortals is the core of Maharet’s story in Queen of the Damned and it’s so sick and twisted that Leigh read that, seemingly cribbed the same setup for the Morozova story, and still decided to have Alina conclude at the end of R&R that as the only immortal person, the Darkling will be lonely forever and so murdering him is the merciful thing to do.

It sounds like a pointless moral debate because immortal people aren’t real, but taking into account what immortality represents in the different stories, it’s so offensive to go down the murder path.

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There is a difference between:

The desire to become immortal as a means to have power over others and to avoid losing power due to emotional vulnerability, physical deterioration and death (Raistlin)

and

Unwillingly being inflicted with immortality as a metaphor for the feeling that a trauma/mental/physical illness is endless and inescapable, while everyone else’s lives are moving forward without you, followed by the massive personal strength and freedom you gain from overcoming that despair (Lestat and co)

The Darkling is in the same category as Lestat and co because he didn’t choose immortality, he was born with it and he’s mentally suffering because of it, but Leigh treats him as though he’s in Raistlin’s category of ‘person who wrongly wants immortality at the expense of others’.

Raistlin can choose to give up on his quest for immortality at any time, which would be doing the ‘right’ thing according to the rules of the story, and doing this would instantly earn him a happy ending.

The only way the Darkling can give up his immortality is to be killed, which he is , then he’s resurrected and is still unhappy and then he goes to suffer in tree purgatory. There’s no way for him to follow the rules of the story, get what he wants and live to experience it, it’s so unfair.

Alina doesn’t even make the choice, she supposedly does the wrong thing by accepting all the amplifiers and her immortality is forcibly taken away from her, but she still gets the ‘reward’ of (according to canon) a happy ending.

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The Vampire Chronicles: Gabrielle has been trapped for her whole life and has never been able to do anything she wanted and now she’s dying of consumption. By becoming a vampire she can finally be healthy and as powerful as she always wanted and live freely travelling the world. This is what she deserves because fuck the patriarchy.

TGT: Alina is chronically ill and trapped in the army. By discovering her Grisha powers she can finally be healthy and powerful and live freely, but that would be greedy and make her evil, thus she must lose her powers and live in obscurity at the orphanage where she was raised.

Raistlin’s desire for immortality is immoral and self-harming, because at the end of Chronicles he is the most powerful person in the world but it’s still not enough for him, he refuses to live in harmony with nature and rejects everyone who loves him.

Gabrielle’s desire for immortality is justified because she has never been able to live happily, but if she becomes a vampire she can be free and have relationships with people who respect and understand her.

Alina is not like Claudia, where if she stays physically young forever that means she will never grow up emotionally and her childish selfishness and greed will consume her and cause her to harm others, because Alina is not 12 years old, Alina is an adult woman and overattachment to Mal is the thing that’s preventing her from growing up, not Grisha powers.

---

I simply cannot with this, Leigh just takes all these common elements from the different books - ‘wizard is immortal’, ‘wizard manipulates woman’, ‘wizard wants to rule the world’ - and chops them down to the lowest common denominator with no consideration about what they mean in the context of each character and story.

Every single thing is like this, and it’s exhausting.

It’s going to be a really damn long journey to explain on a theme/characterisation basis how ‘Flagg controls the King of Delain’ ended up as ‘the Darkling controls the King of Ravka’. I have walked that road and learned its secrets but at the end of it I felt dirty because I’m 99% sure that the connecting factor in Leigh’s mind at the time of writing TGT was nothing more than ‘evil wizard controls king because this is a thing that evil wizards do (because they are evil)’.

I saw someone describe this modern style of YA fantasy/romance writing as ‘six tropes in a trenchcoat pretending to be a story’ and I will never forget that image. The Darkling is ‘three wizards, a dark knight, a devil and a vampire in a kefta’ and they get very wobbly when you push them a little. No doubt it would have worked a lot better using just one of these characters as a starting point instead of stitching together bits of all of them. There’s no grand unifying factor; I have different emotional responses to each one and I can’t think of a single thing they all have in common, other than ‘Leigh thought they were hot’.

[disaster-fruit]

could you tell us more about the brarg family au with the 3 babies and trans luci?

I definitely can! This au has been living rent free in my head since i started that drawing and I was actually sketching more stuff for the AU right before I got this ask so- I definitely can ramble more about it

This was supposed to be just a collection of a few hcs and now it’s a multi-pages word document the size of a fanfic so – Im really sorry.

I didn’t think a lot about their backstories tbh, though I have it in my mind that Luciano transition in his late teens and that he and martin either met after that or knew each other before luciano came out, lost all contact, and then met again after (and you can blame oxiosas fic for that yeah im not even subtle)

But I imagine them having some sort of meet cute and kinda progressing really fast in their relationship without realizing – yk, its just a fling, no big deal, yeah ive met his parents, yes I basically spend every weekend in his apartment, yeah I have a spare key now, ops I guess we’re adopting dogs and plants together- oh I think we’re married. Yeah. We’re married.

Ok but for real Luci does the proper proposal-with-a-ring-and-knelt-down-on-a-special-day thing and Martin is just bright red saying yes over and over again

It is Afonso (port) the first to be all WHERE ARE MY GRANDCHILDREN like… the night of their wedding.

They live in a house in a not too big city with two dogs, one cat, one parrot and all the birds that Luciano feeds and names that aren’t actually theirs. Still, they choose the house with two spare rooms because they always talked about having two kids.

In this AU they can buy a nice house and don’t have to worry about money and can raise kids like the world isn’t ending.

I think right after they got married they got in line for adoption. However, everything indicated that it would take a long long time so they started talking about the possibility of trying to have a biological kid. I think luci was the one to suggest it when he noticed martin had been thinking about it but not saying anything for a while.

Lots of boring doctor visits and confused doctors looking at luciano and trying to process it like the dumb cishets they are. Boring exams and all that, but everything is on track eventually, luci pauses his hrt and keeps his jockstrap on the drawer and they’re googling the best positions for fertility on those weird cishet sites and doing it like bunnies etc etc

Getting pregnant the natural way after years of testosterone is not the easiest thing in the world, so it takes a while. But eventually it works.

Both of them are kinda freaking out with this whole first pregnancy thing. Martin is the ultimate protective husband, and spends way too much time on the internet finding out what luciano can and can’t eat, what exercises he should do, and going to every single doctor visit. He’s very committed to it.

Luciano has to drink non-alcoholic beer and hates life. There’s a single teardrop shed every time he buys it. And drinks a lot of lemonade like it’s the same as caipirinha. Poor guy. Martin doesn’t help on that, life isn’t fair, he buys his own beer.

But he also has to drive absurd lengths to find the weirdest fruit or make the most hideous, blasphemous pizza toppings because Luciano is constantly craving absurd shit. But poor baby actually really NEEDS that chicken M&M pizza at 8am.

They’re super proud daddies though, and both their instagrams at this point are just baby belly pictures. Luci had top surgery on this au on my hc so also. Lots of shirtless pics. He looks like an old uncle with a beer belly and he’s PROUD. Just. Baby bellies all over.

Martin picks the entire baby layette. Because of course he does.

Their baby shower is a huge deal though. Their dads are there, Antonio brings an entire trunk filled with diapers and tells everyone how many tincho used to need when he was a baby, Afonso is cooking for everyone and talking about how he’s gonna be a grandfather (!!!). Iracema (pindorama) is scolding Luci about his bad habits while also quietly being a super proud grandma. Zola (angola) bought toys because she knows that’s what kids actually like, Samero (Mozão) keeps asking if they installed all the necessary security stuff in their house – we will, chill, we still have some months to go – Vera (Tomé) is teasing Simão (Timor) about him no longer being the family baby, Fatima (g.bissau) is another one who bought a huge amount of diapers, Rosinha (cabo verde) is taking pictures of everyone and everything, Sebas and Dani are discussing if the kid should speak Portuguese or Spanish, Maria brought a huge pink plushy as a gift, it’s quite a party.

Once they’re late in the pregnancy, Luciano mostly spends his time on Martin’s oversized t-shirts asking for foot rubs and not getting much sleep because the baby keeps moving. Martin on the other hand is a little nervous about being a dad, but absolutely loves feeling the little kicks and talking to the baby all the time, except when its 3am and he wants to sleep but Luci cant because of it so he just does his best to keep him company. He mostly ends up falling asleep on his chest though and doesn’t help much

I wrote all of this but I still don’t have a name for the girl lol Anyway, she’s finally born, and if martin was overprotective when Luciano was pregnant, he’s ten times more with his baby girl. Tbh theyre both kinda going crazy with this whole parenting thing, both are overprotective, tired, and have no idea what theyre doing.

Zola and Sebastian are the girl’s godparents. Sebastian isn’t very good with kids so when he takes care of his niece he either puts on a tv show and lets her eat whatever crap she wants, or relies on Daniel to do the actual taking care, since he is good with kids.

Luciano and Martin are very much neurotic first-timers and have all this schedule of what their girl can eat and when and when she has to sleep etc etc.

When Zola takes care of her, she just ignores it and does it her way. She helped raised Luci since he was a baby anyway, he survived just fine and even married and reproduced, she knows what to do better than both the dumbasses, and they never even find out.

Afonso on the other had follows everything when he’s with his granddaughter, determined to be a better grandfather than he was a father, and the baby loves him so he’s doing a good job.

They’re a very cute family yes yes

She grows up well and happy, a bit shy maybe but very smart and sweet, loves the dogs and her aunts and uncles and granddads (afonso more than antonio though)

By the way, Iracema is soft like butter with her granddaughter.

When she’s about four or five years old they start talking about having a second one, considering the age difference and all. So back to doctors, Luci stops the hrt again and they go back to trying, but again it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do it naturally after years of hrt.

But god listens to the prayers of such good catholic family, and right after they start thinking about a second child, they receive the news they will finally get to adopt a baby.

Luciano is the one to receive the news, he’s working at home when the social worker comes to tell him they can finally adopt. He’s extremely happy, he hugs the poor lady and is barely able to concentrate as she explains the paperwork that is left and the details of it because he can’t stop smiling.

He immediately texts martin saying something like “CALL ME RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO TALK” and it’s in happy caps but martin understands it wrong and thinks someone is dying or dead but then his phone is what dies so he gets home as fast as he can thinking all the worst scenarios just to find luciano jumping on him with a smile for ear to ear. It’s such a shock he takes a while to react but when he does you have two idiots so happy they can’t function.

It’s another girl, she has big brown eyes like her sister and it’s a few months old.

They quickly reassemble the crib and paint the second room to get everything ready in time to take her home, and the next week or so it’s nothing but all the family visiting to meet their new baby.

Since they managed to adopt, they decided to stop trying to have another kid. Luciano goes back to the doctor do some routine exams so that he can go back to testosterone and the doctor just awkwardly explains that, well, that won’t be exactly possible. Not for the next eight months, at least.

He’s quite shocked at that, and takes him a while to tell martin. They just got a new baby and do they even have space to raise three kids? Eventually it just escapes from him and martin is shocked as well, but ultimately both of them are just worried about their place being too small, and once they relax about that they can’t shut up about having another baby on the way to anyone.

Still, it’s not easy to manage, martin is just as worried as he was with their eldest, except that this time he’s simultaneously worried about their new baby and about Luci’s pregnancy. Poor dude needs a break asap. So he’s trying to do most of the work of caring for a little baby to spare luciano from the stress, while also taking care of him as well as he did the other time.

Luci is more chill about being pregnant, he’s done this before, he’s fine. He’s even a little too chill about it, as shown in the art, he still wants to carry their kid on his shoulder and having a few sips of martin’s beer is no big deal and honestly he’s fine, he can help with the baby, and Tincho just needs to relax and it will all be fine.

Again, poor tincho needs a break.

Some things don’t change though. Them being super proud daddies who do nothing but take pictures of their kids and Luci’s belly every chance they get. And they’re really happy and excited to have their house full and this big family.

Just a good cute family AU where nothing bad ever happens thank you very much.  Yet it took me almost 2k words to say it. I have no self control and I’m very sorry. However, if anyone has their own hcs to add about this whole au, I will be more than happy to hear and talk about this AU even more than I’ve already done.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #381

“don’t try to be the one person who has stayed just to say they never left me”

Do you feel bored with your life? Always. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? I sometimes miss Colleen, but I know it's for the better that we no longer associate with each other. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? I don't know, but a fuck of a lot. Thanks, Abilify. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. What do you miss about high school? Memories with Jason. What do you miss the most about college? Socializing. What was the best date you’ve ever been on? A triple date to an arcade w/ Jason and friends. What’s the last great song you discovered? The most recent one? I don't know, really. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Yeah. Don't like what I post, delete me. Have you ever done cocaine? Yikes, no thanks. Do you think you’ll ever get married? Do you want to? I sometimes wonder if I ever will. I'm scared of just continuing to be an unemployed leech that is doing nothing significant with her life, in which case it's like, why even be with me romantically. I feel like such a dead end street. I want to get married someday. Who do you care about the most? When it comes down to it, probably my mom. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want small gauges, actually. When it comes to clothing, are you the conservative type? Yes, because I hate my body and don't want others to see it. Do you enjoy eating? I wish I didn't. Have you ever ridden in a race car? No. Do you go out of your way to impress the opposite gender? No. Do you enjoy history? Not really, no. It bores me. Are you a pajama person or do you stay dressed all day? I'm just about always in my pjs. Do you value looks or personality more? Personality is way more important. Have you ever changed religions? Yeah. Born Roman Catholic, converted to Christianity when I further understood the differences, then I went to how I am now: I believe in something(s), but I don't quite know what. I wouldn't call myself a Neo-Pagan, but it's what I relate most to. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? I would for like, my wedding. Foo fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm actually not a big fan of either. Are you a fan of the SAW movies? I don't really watch them. Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? My two immediate sisters, I'm sometimes a year off. All my others, yes. :x Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew, of course. I really don't like Sprite now, which is ironic because as a kid, it was my favorite soda. Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah. Have you ever worked as a cashier? That was one of my duties when I worked at a dollar store. If you are on birth control that allows you take pills and skip your period, how often do you opt to skip it? How come? My birth control doesn't allow me to skip, but rather, it regulates it. Is there a book series where you loved the first book, but for some reason the other books in the series just didn’t measure up? I can't say that, no, as most series I just kinda fell out of, like The Hunger Games. LOVED the first book, started the second, and even though I was enjoying it, I just stopped for some reason? Are there any stores/restaurants that you would like to shop/eat at, but there aren’t any located near enough to you? Haha yeah, like lots of west coast fast food places like Jack n' the Box or however it's formatted. If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I don't even want kids, so honestly, I'd be stoked if I learned I was infertile. Wouldn't need to worry about the chance of getting pregnant and facing an abortion dilemma. Is there something that you did not used to take seriously, that you either now take seriously or wish that you had in the past (e.g., a relationship that you miss, your education, etc.)? Hm. I don't know. Are there any subjects that you are interested in so much that you would read whole books or academic journals about them? Meerkats, especially. I will read EVERY scientific article about them I find. Are you physically affectionate with your friends? I'm a hugger. When you were in middle school and high school, did you witness a lot of bullying? How did the teachers react to name-calling or violence? Not really, thankfully. Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yeah. I have a cousin who's really good at drawing, and my sister is a wonderful cake decorator. Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your gf/bf? My hypothetical bf/gf, no. Would you ever donate blood? I have before, and I would again if I knew I was hydrated enough and the opportunity was right there. Would you rather drink coffee or tea? Ugh, neither. Do you get easily embarrassed? YES. How long was your longest make out? TMI alert, like all night. If the person who hurt you most said they’re sorry would you believe them? I honestly don't know. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. What color is your mum's car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nope. Are you happy with your eye color? I wish they were a more sapphire blue. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Absolutely liquid body wash. What color do you want your dream car to be? Baby pink. *-* Do you have more then one favorite band? I say I do, but at the same time I know Ozzy Osbourne will ALWAYS be #1. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship? In a relationship. But it's absolutely not something I'm about to force just for the sake of being in one. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? Nah. Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both. Do you know anyone that's pescatarian? No. Someone I watch on YouTube is, though. Are you shy or over confident around your crushes? Super shy. Do you think the govt. has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? Hell, I think it's very well possible, but I lean more towards for financial hoarding, they simply don't further pursue potential cures that are discovered. I mean, just THINK about all the "future cures" you've read or heard about. It's fucking outrageous. It's all to fuel the medical industry. Okay, tin hat coming off. Last time you drank a diet soda? A very long time ago, because diet soda gives me a massive headache. Was your ex born in America? Only one wasn't. Name your favorite type of music and why. Metal. I for one just like the sound, and I find it very therapeutic when I'm especially mad or sad. Even when I'm in a good mood, I just enjoy it. I also feel that a lot of metal songs tell interesting stories and/or have very poetic lyrics. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I haven't, but I've considered it. Can you breakdance? Definitely not. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? Yes. We were assigned this one war novel in middle school that was FUCKING AWFUL, like I was checked out the whole time. I don't remember its name or anything. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yes; the Warcraft movie I mentioned in a recent survey. Orcs and their fucking deep-ass voice that I couldn't understand. Do you blowdry your hair? No. Tell me about your dream last night. Omfgggggg y'all. So, there's one invert pet that I've never understood the keeping appeal of, and that's giant centipedes. Their bites are notoriously excruciating, and they are just SO goddamn fast. Well, for some godforsaken reason, I wanted one as a pet. Got one, and it immediately got loose. Guess who wanted to shit herself lmao. Centipedes are very cool, but only from a distance, ya feel? Have you ever stayed in a fancy high-class rich hotel? No. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? I don't think so. Describe the worst fight you’ve ever been in whether physical or verbal. I'm not entirely sure about my *worst*, but I know it was with Mom. We've had a few. Have you heated any food in your microwave today? Yeah, a shrimp alfredo Lean Cuisine bowl. Do you own any items of clothing with cartoon characters on them? Yes. Have you ever played Animal Crossing? No, it doesn't seem like my kinda game. Do you own anything (e.g jewelry, accessories) with your initial on it? Yes, but none of which I personally bought because I don't really like them. Do you own any cats or dogs? What are their names? I have a cat named Roman. <3 Have you added any books to your shelves lately? Which? No. Have you bought any new cosmetics or toiletries lately? Which? No. Do your pets have a specific type of food that they prefer? Roman will eat whatever cat food he's given, while Venus, like your average ball python, is a picky eater. Like when I first got her, she wouldn't eat for almost a year because I just couldn't find a method through which she'd accept food. Now she consistently takes frozen/thawed small rats that have actually sat in warm water (versus doing it by hand under running water), and she generally won't strike it unless it's offered to her by tongs, but not dangling by the tail. Picky, picky miss thang. What's your favourite variety of apple? I'm not very particular about flavor so long as the apple is crisp. I canNOT do soft apples. Which of your physical features do you receive the most compliments about? My hair.

[mermaidsirennikita]

1/2 if you've already discussed this please feel free to ignore! but what are your thoughts on historic mary queen of scots and her whole rivalry with elizabeth? I should disclose that elizabeth is a huge favorite of mine, but I've been trying to expand my horizons by reading a biography about mary. Kinda hurts my brain though because, while mary definitely deserves sympathy, it frustrates me to see the nuances applied to mary's life that is rarely extended to elizabeth's...

2/2 in particular, the bio i'm reading just gives me weird vibes. maybe it's just me but i feel like this dude wants to go back in time and fuck mary and that it colors his whole opinion on the elizabeth/mary rivalry. i'm gonna try a woman's book on the whole affair next and hope for a little better but who knows. anyway, sorry for rambling! would love to hear your thoughts on it all, if you are up for it

For sure I’m up for it!

The thing is that there is an inherent bias towards Mary or Elizabeth when historians discuss this rivalry, no matter who is talking. It is impossible to be objective.  Even if you prefer one over the other just a little bit, I don’t think that anyone views them totally objectively.  You either have historians who love a tragedy and subscribe overly strongly to “the winners write history”, assuming that means that everything the winners say ever is a lie, therefore siding with Mary; or you have HARDCORE VIRGIN QUEEN WHOO WHOO GLORIAAAAAANAAAAAA Elizabeth fans. 

 With that being said, I think that the BROAD bias has been in Mary’s favor because fiction also loves a tragedy.  The favorability of fiction towards Elizabeth kinda depends on how fuckable she is at the time that the store focuses on.  If the story focuses on Elizabeth when she’s young and pretty and the underdog, branded a bastard and at the mercy of her TOTALLY UNFUCKABLE sister, then Elizabeth is the beauty sexy virgin (or issss sheeeee).  If the story focuses on the true climax of the Elizabeth v. Mary conflict (which began as soon as Elizabeth took the throne in the grander scheme, but obviously comes to a head, haha, when Mary is executed) then by then... my god... Elizabeth is NOT FUCKABLE.  She is middle-aged.  She’s been through it, perhaps even suffering, egad, blemishes, from smallpox.  Marriage is a purely political question now; there is no way that she’s going to be spirited away by Robert Dudley at this point.  And her rule is no longer in question as much.  I mean, of course it was, it really was for most of, maybe even theoretically all of, her rule.  But Elizabeth is no longer an underdog at that point.  She is fully installed as queen, England is solidly in its “Protestant but I guess we aren’t like, gonna kill AS MANY Catholics haha” phase and people accept that even though she’ll probably never produce an heir of her body, she’s what they’ve got and they’ll come up with someone to succeed her.

The thing that bugs about this is that Mary was never an underdog.  And so this re-branding has to do not with the actual circumstances these women were under, but rather with the fact that Elizabeth was not sexually available and was broadly powerful, openly powerful, in a way that Mary was and wasn’t.  The fact is that Mary had every advantage compared to Elizabeth.  She was crowned a queen in infancy; her mother was a very powerful, very intelligent woman who came from a equally powerful French family; she was betrothed to a dauphin who would become king, and raised within a court that was not only powerful, but actively home to women aside from her mother who would stand as examples of politically strong femininity--Catherine de’ Medici and Diane de Poitiers.  This is not to say that Mary necessarily would have been able to learn from them.  But it’s not as if she was in some backwater wherein royal women were shut out of the room where it happens, is what I’m saying.

Now, the death of Francois obviously threw the game off.  But Mary was still a Catholic queen, in an overwhelmingly Catholic Europe.  Her legitimacy was not in question.  She was a Scottish queen that did not know fuck all about Scotland, but she was still young enough for there to be an opportunity to learn, though this certainly was never meant to be her role.  She was meant to be the mother of France’s next king more than an iron lady for Scotland.  And really, Mary did not have to be THAT savvy, right?  She just had to be able to take advice and work with the right people.  Stay in Scotland, play in England, choose a strong consort for the purpose of alliances ORRRRR perhaps none at all.

Elizabeth, who is so often painted as the mighty woman who did not have the grace to be kind to her cousin... did not begin as a mighty woman.  She was never meant to be queen of England.  Her mother was murdered by her father when she was a toddler; she was rendered illegitimate; her mother’s family was not powerful, certainly after Anne Boleyn was executed.  Elizabeth had to regain her legitimacy and then wait for two (three, if you count Jane Grey) people to die, all the while living under political and religious terror.  Elizabeth was not raised to rule.  But she was canny as fuck, and she did work with the right people.  She made the call that there was no way to safely marry without giving up power or potentially causing further strife in an already wrecked England and she stood by that.

And when you look at their communication, Elizabeth did not have this evil eye set on Mary for life.  She actually gave Mary plenty of warnings when Mary was playing with the idea of potential husbands.  She did give her options--which of course, would have put Mary and Scotland more under Elizabeth’s power, for sure, but also likely would have left Mary safer.  I doubt that Elizabeth ever was like “awwww we’ll be besties”.  Mary seems to have been genuinely naive about their relationship at some point.  I don’t think Elizabeth could afford that naivety--nor was she capable of it, perhaps.  She’d been through so much by the time she became queen that I think that she was fully aware of Mary’s status as a rival, and most importantly, as a Catholic rival and therefore a much more legitimate rival in the eyes of many both religiously and politically.  She had to know, and certainly her advisers let her know, that Mary could become a severe problem later.

Elizabeth was always paranoid, and with good reason.  Did this paranoia inform the way she handled Mary?  I’m sure it did.  Was Mary reckless, and furthermore somewhat arrogant?  Yes.  Mary never should have married Darnley on a political level, and I believe that like most rulers she likely believed that she had a divine right to rule, and based on precedent alone, was extremely unlikely to ever be executed.  Sovereign rulers just weren’t, typically.  It was shocking enough when a consort like Anne Boleyn was executed, and she was not “born” to rule.  Elizabeth--well, I’m sure she did believe she was divinely chosen, as a religious queen.  But she also had the practical experience of having to claw to her throne to war with that.  She knew that she could be killed.

The execution of Mary was a consolidation of power, but I’m not entirely sure, based off of Mary’s past behavior and tendency towards recklessness, that she wasn’t involved in the conspiracy of which she was accused.  It’s difficult to know, and it’s debated to this day with good reason.  Just as it’s debated whether or not she fully consented to the Bothwell marriage.  But we do have a precedent to go off of that leads me to believe that while she could have been a total victim, she wasn’t against making moves against Elizabeth.  No matter what, she made some exceptionally bad calls that Elizabeth just didn’t.

To me, historians have this issue with the fact that Elizabeth did wield hard power and did make active moves, whereas Mary relied more on her birthright and did follow a more conventional life path. You can really see this in the recent Mary Queen of Scots movie, which depicts Elizabeth as this ugly, repressed crone whereas Mary is sexually liberated and romantic.  Elizabeth is depicted as jealous of Mary’s maternity and beauty, when in reality--Elizabeth had plenty of men lining up to court her, was a practiced flirt, and held immense power that could very well have made up for that lack of a child thing.  It’s a very sexist viewpoint to absolve Mary of her mistakes because she’s romantic~, while holding Elizabeth accountable for every decision she made, many of which were made in the name of political consolidation and survival.

I don’t think Elizabeth wanted to kill Mary.  That was a woman of her line, a fellow sovereign queen, and yes, quite probably designated as queen by God in the viewpoint of that era.  Furthermore, Elizabeth didn’t want to set that precedent.  It wasn’t GREAT for her.  But she made that call for a reason.

(And though I find both women fascinating and tragic in different ways, I do admit my own bias towards Elizabeth.  Like, of course.)

[kanamesakuraouji]

It ended there

He asked for us to talk later that night, but I didn’t think anything serious about it due to us always having talks. This one was different, it messed me up inside and felt so many emotions. 

Our conversation was about why we shouldn't be together, and he gave two reasons. One, being a witch and how he doesn’t like the idea of having his family and future children knowing about witchcraft. Second, Our intellectual stand points are different. Before I say more I want to say he used a lot of poor choices with his words.

The worse part was that I had asked him “Are you breaking up with me?” He couldn’t answer me and just continued to ramble  on why we shouldn’t be together. He was so afraid of what I would say to him, but I let him spoke his truth instead of me going on an episode. I wanted to hear more even though it was hurting me.. I repressed so much emotion, but I told myself he needed his voice to be heard. It was hard, because I was looking at him in the eyes, but he’d sway his eyes to the side. He couldn’t look at me... He feared me. I knew it was over as soon as I asked him that question. You know how bad it is to ask someone if they're breaking up with you, because they're too scared to say it? I can say a hundred other things that was written all over your face, but I chose to let you speak. 

You fear witches, or witchcraft, but we have done nothing to you. We’re a dying species... why? Most of choose not to procreate, because we don’t want the next generation to suffer as we lived our lives. My people were killed throughout the world for just living or being a little different. We were crusaded throughout the lands saying we were evil by the people of Catholicism and Christianity. All just by doing something that wasn’t up to their vision. Before Science it was witchcraft... but now people in this era claim it as science, but deem the other stuff unreliable due to evidence. So when proven it becomes science? Are you appropriating our craft? The moral to it all.. why would you fear me, us, my people who was attacked by those people. If anything you should fear those who crusaded us and many others’ in history. We just wanted to be left alone.. My next argument is just like Witches, Christians, and Catholics and etc.. It does not define they are good or bad people. Anyone can be good, or bad. It’s what you do with the beliefs that decides if you’re bad or good. With the things I’ve learned, I was taught to learn control, and to be wary of things. To defend myself if things go south. I’ve learned the scariest, mind boggling, and inhumane like teachings ,but do I decide to use them to harm others? No, I used my gifts to help others... So tell me why that’s terrifying?

Having kids who are born as a witch is a gift in my eyes. I will share my secrets with them, but they can choose to not pursue their heritage. I will always give my children their choice, and I won’t force them into doing something they hate. At the end of the day it’s their life, and I won’t take their choice away from them. I teach them to warn them and to protect themselves, but again if I procreate.. I won’t always have a child with the gift. You’ll either be born with it or not, and it’s that simple. 

His poor choice of words of not being on the same intellectual level hurt me, because he knows where I am and know why I’m stuck here. What he meant was interests, but why would you mix up those two words? It doesn’t make sense.. but I gave it to him. I’m sorry our interests don’t match. I’m sorry I love the arts more than science. I’ve been studying Biology since I learned how to read. So forgive me for wanting to separate my educational life and my interests. I find light from my interests, and when I see Science it becomes work, and my life isn’t about just work. It’s sad to me, because I knew you’re like this, and I tried to establish those types of conversation about what interests you, but I guess me trying wasn't enough.

At the end of the conversation I had asked him again, “Are you breaking up with me?” Still no answer... I eventually asked my friend to pick me up and take me home, because I was far from home. I packed my bags, and he had the audacity to ask me to be friends still... my answer,” I can’t be friends with you, because my friends don’t do me like this.” My friends respect me, my life choices, my interests, my love for everything, and love me for who I am. You broke me. You chose to love me, but I guess it was for naught. I had to hold my ground without exploding. I tried so hard to keep my composure, because at the end of it all I still love him, and that he doesn’t deserve to see my fury, a witch’s anger. before I walked out he asked one last for a hug... I denied him, because I knew if I hugged him I would of stayed and would have to stop being a witch.. to deny my witch bloodline for the rest of my life.

-Kaname

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Chwe Hansol)

A special thank you to @pointless-verses and @notprincesscharming​ for loving me the way they do and accepting who I am. I wouldn’t have written this without them. Some of us are Vernon and some of us are Y/N and that’s okay. Merry Christmas (Eve) everyone.

Word count: 2682

“Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright,” you sang softly as you hung the ornaments on your tree. You continued humming it as you decorated your apartment. Occasionally, one of the people that lived in the building would join in with you. You loved Christmas; you loved the holiday; you especially loved the meaning behind it. For many others, it meant gifts, shopping, food for days and more money spent in one month than in the entire year. For you, it was the reminder that Jesus Christ was born.

Jesus, church, and religion had been a big part of your life as a child and as you grew up, your faith in Him never wavered despite the obstacles. You didn’t tell people this part because over time, they had become less devoted and more critical of those who still believed, especially now that questioning everything had become a thing. You were familiar with almost everyone who disrespected your beliefs, and a lot of the time it felt like they targeted you personally. You knew there were bad Christians (and Catholics) who condemned those who were different, but you also knew that the self-righteous pricks who ironically had the holier-than-thou aura were no better, especially when it was just those who followed the trend. You felt lost for a time, but after joining groups and speaking to the pastors about your problem, you left somewhat reassured that as long as you had your faith, you could deal with the problem. Plus, your friends and family accepted you as you were, so nothing else mattered.

Sure you still didn’t know how people lived without God in their lives or how some could be angry at him, but you also didn’t know how people could use God as an excuse to treat others the way they did. Along the way in your self-discovery of living your life as God intended, you met those who had the same intentions as you did, some praising the Lord and some who merely smiled at the statement. 

Among those you befriended in that category was Hansol Vernon Chwe. Hansol, from what you knew, had a golden heart with a soul to match perfectly. You met him one day while waiting in line for a coffee. He complimented the buttons on your backpack and even showed you the same ones he had. You noticed the book he had in his hand since it had been one you were curious about, so you sat down at one of the tables and discussed all the books you’d read and wrote down his recommendations. He was a lot on the goofy side so it was refreshing to see that because, at your age, everyone was stressed over something. (Not that it was a bad thing, but it was a nice change.) He was a little awkward once you started hanging out but once he got comfortable with you, he opened up a lot about his life. 

It wasn’t the happiest but he managed to overcome a lot of his obstacles and you opened up to him. He was a fairly happy soul so when you spent time together, it felt cathartic. You listened to each other’s problems about whatever happened and just enjoyed each other’s company. 

You did have suspicions that the idea of religion made him uncomfortable, but every time you asked him about it, he’d just wave it off and let you continue until the topic could be appropriately changed and you’d eventually forget about it.

But you noticed the closer to the holidays he got, the gloomier he got. You could see the storm in his eyes whenever you passed the green and red colored shops with Santa Claus decorating the windows and his mood soured every time he saw people buying gifts, and you realized he never celebrated the joyous holiday with someone important to him, so on a chilly and windy afternoon, you set off to find something for him and you’d wait until Christmas Eve to give it to him once you finished setting up the nativity set on the coffee table, and then you’d invite him over to give him said gift: a leather jacket and a new beanie to match it. 

There was a knock on the door just as you finished putting the three wise men on the table and you yelled a, “Come in,” while you set up the farm animals around the little area. You continued your humming, setting up the nativity set as you pleased. “Hi Hansol!” you greeted him cheerily.

“Oh...hey,” he said sitting down next to you. He threw his backpack on the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Setting this up. It’s almost Christmas so I wanted to put this up. It’s the most important thing to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. So, uh, you said you wanted to see me?” He tried not to look on the table, the discomfort setting in, the more he avoided it.

You nodded, finally standing up and stretching. You pretended not to notice how he eyed the place skeptically, especially when you walked to the Christmas tree. “I got you something.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed quickly, the slow boiling anger making you uneasy. Maybe you should’ve brought it up a little later? Maybe after he tried some food from a new recipe you made?

“Because you’re my friend and you’re special to me and all my special friends get gifts.” You smiled at him nonetheless.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” he said simply. “It’s stupid.” The off switch hit and he shut down, the way it normally did when he didn’t know what else to do.

You tried not to show the disappointment and hurt on your face, but you didn’t know how to make words come out of your mouth either. The present in your hands felt heavy suddenly and you felt like a fool. “Oh,” you finally said.

“Yeah...holidays don’t deserve to be celebrated when it’s a shit storm all year ‘round,” the sarcasm and bitterness lacing through the happy tone. “You got kids dying, homeless people with no place to go, and when your life is torn apart like mine, well, you get used to it. I gotta go.”

“But you just got here!” you protested, your voice trying not to break.

“And I have somewhere else to be now.”

“Hansol, if I offended you, I’m sorry-”

“You wouldn’t understand. I didn’t mean to ruin this for you.” He patted your shoulder and walked out quietly.

*

The moment he had found out about your religious side, Hansol had known it was gonna be difficult. He often stayed away with people who claimed to have a relationship with God because whenever he told someone that he wasn’t sure if God even existed, it was like a switch flipped. They were usually offended, yes, but then they forced (or tried to force) their beliefs down his throat and just gave him the cold shoulder when they realized they couldn’t convert him. He had been through so much in his life and he had stopped trying to defend his reasons behind it. He was tired of being judged for it, and he hated trying to prove that he was still a good person because he thought it could still be possible. It made him angry; it confused him and it even saddened him a little because he never knew where to turn to.

When he met you though, he thought you were just like him: a lost little soul, hoping to find something, anything. But as he got to know you, and you spoke of God so highly, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Another one for the books.

He liked you a lot though, and despite the barrier, he never felt like you forced it on him. Then again, he waived the subject of God and Christianity and everything it came with whenever his discomfort became too much. He never meant to push you away like he did at your place but it felt like he was backed into a corner. He made his friends (whatever was left of them, that is) and family swear they wouldn’t buy him anything in relation to the holiday in the past because he knew the reason behind Christmas and he couldn’t get on board with that. He would be something of a hypocrite if he celebrated it, so he chose not to. 

He could taste the bile on his tongue from overthinking and he needed to get away from his head. He wanted to call you, but he knew he made you cry the moment he left your house that day. Couldn’t he be your friend and still choose not to believe? Or did you only wanna become his friend because you a.) thought that he was religious or b.) knew he wasn’t and you thought you could change his ways? Neither seemed likely though. You never gave him a reason to believe otherwise

He turned on the radio to hopefully drive his thoughts away, but the moment he heard the song, you automatically came to his mind and a slow smile crossed his face. He remembered you telling him it was your favorite Christmas song over lunch one day when it came on the speakers. You had hummed it and tapped your fingers to it. He liked seeing you happy like that; all of his friends deserved it, especially you. You made him feel welcome, although he never told you upright his confusion with religion. Some days he didn’t believe; sometimes he did, but mostly, he was unsure. He was afraid it’d hurt you and he didn’t want that. 

It was a nice song, he decided right now that he was paying attention to it. Would he add it to his Spotify playlist? No, but that was okay. He could appreciate it because you were important to him..

*

“‘Bye everyone! Thank you for coming! And thank you for the gifts!” You weren’t sure of how much hot chocolate you ingested but you were sure it mixed into your bloodstream. You felt full and content. You invited a few of your loved ones over for breakfast and you all exchanged gifts. The best part of it all was being together, as it should be. There were hugs everywhere, laughter and even a few tears from laughing too hard, all music to your ears. You never felt like you belonged more than in moments like this. God had blessed you with the best people in your life and you’d be going to church later on today to express your gratitude because you couldn’t ask for more (except maybe some concert tickets, but that wasn’t the point here.)

Your gaze landed on Hansol’s unopened gifts and you were overcome with many emotions, unsure of which ones were stronger. You could pinpoint the hurt because of what he said to you and how he said it; the sadness because of the outright rejection and refusal of opening them; embarrassment for not asking him if he wanted something in the first place; anger for not handling the situation the way you wanted to; disappointment because you had at least hoped he would’ve opened them before saying something; and even the hope he’d come to at least apologize. You said a silent prayer that wherever he’d be, he’d try to make the most of this sacred day.

You didn’t know what you’d do with the presents but you couldn’t return them...or give them away. You bought them specifically for him and neither option felt right. Maybe you’d just use them as a birthday gift; it was a couple months away, after all. It’d save you the hassle of shopping for him twice and at least you only had DK to worry about. 

The knocking on your door brought you back but you laughed at yourself for being scared. You felt both giddy and afraid as you opened it and Hansol stood there shyly, holding a makeshift white flag as peace. “Hi, can I come in?”

You nodded quickly and let him in, curiously staring at the guitar his hand. “Sorry about the mess. I was just about to clean up. Did you forget something here the other day?”

“No, but I know I said some things that weren’t right and they probably hurt you. This is embarrassing because I hate singing and I hate Christmas but I didn’t know what else to get you so I learned this for you.” He strummed the strings a few times to make sure they were in tune and a moment later, covered “Silent Night” just for you before he could turn around and walk away. He missed a few words and fumbled a few times but you were endeared nonetheless and he hadn’t even finished when you were bawling your eyes out. 

“Hansol, I-” you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama shirt at a loss for words.

“I’m not religious,” he started off after he saw you couldn’t complete your sentence, “I haven’t willingly stepped foot in a church in years and I don’t plan to anytime soon. I don’t like today for that same reason and because everyone in my family wants to erase everything that goes on throughout the year too. I’m not sure I even believe in God anymore because I don’t know how someone can be this cruel sometimes. But, I shouldn’t have disrespected you or your beliefs because of my problems. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Hansol,” you tried again, but you didn’t know what to say. You’d met people who didn’t believe in God, but you never knew what to say when they told you so. This time it wasn’t any different. “You’re still the same person regardless of that. If I had known sooner, then-”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to judge me or try to change me. You’re one of my closest friends and if I lost you because of that...I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Silly boy, only you can decide if you wanna believe. You’re in my life because you’re a good person and honestly, that doesn’t define who you are. I’m not gonna drag you to church every weekend hoping you’ll change your mind and I’m not gonna buy you a bible either. It doesn’t matter if next year you wanna try it. It doesn’t matter if you wanna believe in God, or Allah, or Olofi, or not. But please, at least give me a warning if you’re not comfortable with gifts or anything.” You sniffled again and he pulled you close to him. “I don’t even know what to do with them. You made me feel so bad.”

“I’m sorry. You bought them with good intentions, and I see that now. Would you mind if I opened it?”

“Are you gonna get mad again?”

“No, I’m gonna treasure them for as long as I can because you put so much thought into them.” He lowered his voice, still fighting his discomfort. “Thank you for not hating me. You’re one of the first people I know who’s accepted me.” He choked a little on that last part and it was your turn to comfort him, understanding his pain. You stayed like that for a moment longer and he unwrapped his presents, thanking you more times than you could count for the jacket.

“Hey, isn’t something missing from your thing?” He said just as he was getting ready to leave.

“Oh yeah! The baby Jesus! This is for him after all.” You walked to the TV to grab the minuscule figurine. “Would you like to put him on his bed?”

Although a little uncomfortable, he nodded because he knew it’d mean a lot to you. With trembling fingers, he gently laid him down as heard you singing, taking his hand in yours to give him the strength, and for that he was grateful.

“Silent night….holy night….”

[daphner20]

Justice Browne

Restoration

Prologue

My name is Justice Fritzgerald Browne, and ' Truly God is good to me!” My father wanted to name me John Fritzgerald, but my mom said , “ not a day like it!”

I met the love of my life Alicia Leah (nee Dean) at a Catholic Retreat for young adults called T.E.C ( To Encounter Christ), 25 years ago. She was 19, and I was 24. We were married 6 months later. And that union has blessed us with two sons. Joshua, 20 and Jamie 18.

Joshua is a Senior at Notre Dame University, he is a bio/chemistry major, his next step is med school. Jamie is a sophomore, at Notre Dame as well, but they are on different campuses. Jamie is studying accounting. Both of my sons, graduated from High School at 16. 

I am so proud of my sons, they are truly one of the joys of my life.

Almighty God, has also prospered the work of my hands. I am one of the largest grocers in The  Bahamas. With 4 grocery stores in Nassau, 2 in Grand Bahama, and 1 in Abaco. I own substantial shares in a local bank and insurance company. 

I am also on the Economic Council for The Bahamas. I am also the past president of the Chamber of Commerce.

When I was in CCD, as a child, I remembered Sister Cecilia, teaching us the 10 commandments, the sermon on the mount, and corporal acts of mercy. I have spent my entire life, living as closely as possible to these teachings.

My parents, were the greatest in the world. I was the product of their old age. They were married for 18 years, before I came along. My mom was forty, and my dad was 47. My mom told me that she had never stop trusting and believing that God, will bless her womb. She lived to cradle my sons in her arms. She died 10 years ago, and Daddy followed 2 years later.

As, I lit a candle after mass. I am thankful and grateful to the Lord, who has bless my family, my work, my health, and my faith all these years. I also lit a special candle for my boys, just in case they didn’t go to mass this morning, and asked God to forgive their sins.

Chapter 1

“ So you don’t have any classes today,” said Justice 

“ No, they are cancel until further,” said Jaime.

“ I suggest, you go and stay with Joshua,' said Justice.

“Daddy,” said Jaime, “it’s just a tropical storm!”

“ Jamie, tropical storms can be dangerous as well,” said Justice.

“ The school has taken all precautions, we will be fine. Further more, Josh, campus is on lockdown as well,” said Jaime.

“Ok,' said Justice, reluctantly, he knew how strong will Jamie is. 

'Love you Daddy,” said Jamie, laughingly, he knew his father normally gives in.

“ Love you kiddo, said Justice. ‘Youth’ muttered Justice, they think they are invincible.

5 minutes later.

“ Hello Josh” said Justice.

“ Hi Pops” said Josh animatedly.

“ I heard, about the storm, are you taking precautions.

“ Yes sir, we will be fine, you are aware, that we have been through storms before said Joshua.

“ I know, said Justice, “but it has always been with me and your mother.”

“ We will be fine,  I will check on Jamie every day, don’t worry.”

“ I love you Joshua, you are a good son and great brother,” said Justice, holding back tears.

“I love you too Pops,” said Joshua, smiling, “ and turn of the water works, your too old for that.”

As Justice, hung up the phone, he realized, that he wasn’t trusting  God to protect his sons.

A few days later, the weather channel, said the storm had been upgraded to a category 3. It will bring lots of rain and high gusty winds.

“I will go by church, this evening to light a candle for my boys,” said Justice in his heart.

When I got home, it was late breaking news on all the stations, that Hurricane David, had come ashore as a Category 5, and there were wide devastation.

“ Have you heard from the boys today,” I asked Alicia.

“ I spoke to them, yesterday, but they told me, that the power company was shutting down the power. They said they will call me, as soon as the power comes back on.

It’s been two days now, and still no communication from our sons. I told Alicia, that I was going to North Carolina tomorrow.

Finally, the phone rang, it was Jaime's  number.

“ Jaime, thank God, son how are you? Shouted Justice.

“ This is Dr. Matthew, from Raleigh General,  is this Mr. Browne? We regret to inform you that your son,  Jaime Browne  died two days ago. We finally charged his cellphone, and we found your number. Also, we regret to inform you that your other son Joshua Browne died this morning.

Chapter 2

“The Lord giveth, and the Lord take it away, blessed be the name of the Lord,” said  Justice.

It was a bright and sunny morning, three weeks later, when I buried my boys. How could a day be so beautiful, when my children will never see it again! It’s like the world is mocking me. I am numb, I am on autopilot. I am doing everything that needs to be done, without any emotions.

I flew to North Carolina, to officially identify the boys. I had to make arrangements, to bring them home. I had to pick out the coffins.  I had to decide their burial clothes. I had to choose the photos and songs for the obituary. My boys were altar boys and a part of the youth group,  so every body wanted to play a role in the funeral service. There were such an outpouring of sympathy, I had to make sure they were acknowledged. Instead of two individual plots, I chose one. Joshua at the bottom, and Jaime on top.

Because, they were inseparable, growing up, they were together when they died. Joshua roommate told us, that when the storm got upgraded, Joshua decided to go and stay with Jaime. However, the storm had produced several tornadoes, and one of them had flatten Jaime’s dormitory.  Jamie, the coroner believed died instantly, and Joshua died three days later.

Alicia grief is inconsolable, she is heavily medicated, I don’t know what to do. I just have to be strong, for her and my sons. My head says there are gone, my heart says they are here, and there is no reconciliation. As an accountant, this should be easy. 

Just as the sun rises each morning, I must do the same. Everyone is remarking on my strength. I told them, it’s not me,  but the Lord. His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

A month later,  I returned to work full time, Alicia is turning the corner, she is off the sedatives. She is still profoundly sad, but that is to be expected, and she has me.

“ Mr. Browne, here are the papers, you wanted,” said Sheila my secretary.

“ Mr. Browne, Mr. Browne,” Sheila is frantic now. The last thing I heard her screaming was Call an ambulance!!

Chapter 3

Two weeks later, I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU)

I had suffered a massive stroke, I was totally paralyzed on my left side The doctors told Alicia, that my recovery will be long. Not only will I need a physical therapist, but a speech therapist as well. Another, prognosis, was that I may never fully recovered, and be a shell of a man. All of my  physicians were in agreement with that!

Alicia, brought me home three weeks later. The house was completely transformed. There were ramps for my wheelchair. My study, became my hospital room. Because, I couldn’t swallow on my own, I had a drip in my arm, I was also feed intravenously, I also had to use a catheter. My care also included 3 private nurses on shifts.

Alicia had spared no expense.

My first visitor, was my oldest and dearest friend Greg Henfield, he was also my boys godfather.

“ I am sorry Justice, first the boys, now this, I have known you all my life, I can’t believe this is happening to you, you were a Saint living amongst us! What did you do, to make God so angry,” he said.

Thank God, I couldn’t speak or move, I would have kicked him out.

Next, visitor, was  my lawyer, Charles Powell, “ I think you should sell your business, seeing that you have no longer have heirs, and  you and Alicia can live a comfortable life, with the proceeds,”he said.

Blood in the water, thought Justice, the sharks are circling.

Finally, my father-in-law, Wilfred Dean, came.  I loved him like a father. “ My daughter, can’t take anymore, first her children, now you, this is to much for her. I told her to sell your businesses and shares, and put you in a nursing home and take care of herself,” he said.

“What about our vows?” I wanted to scream, “ for better or worse, sickness and in health.”

Alicia, took his advice, she sold everything, but she didn’t leave me.

Laying in that bed day in and out, with only my thoughts. Why God, I am a good person, you took my boys, my health, my work, my friends and family. Why me?

I wish I never was born, I wish I was like a stillborn child, who never saw light. Why did you bless and then take away. I pour out my complaint and bitterness day unto day.

Until one day, The Lord Spoke!

Chapter 4

“ Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge?

“ Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.“ Where were you, when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who determined it’s measurements? Surely you know!

Then Justice answered ,” I know that you can do everything, and that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from you. I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see You, therefore I despise myself, and I repent in dust and ashes.

Justice didn’t realized, that he was speaking. He had gotten, his speech back. Praise the Lord.

Over, the next few months, with the help of his therapists, he regained the strength and the mobilty of his limbs. Justice Fritzgerald Browne made a full recovery and discovery.

“ Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him!” Justice said.

Alicia, had kept the life insurance benefits of the boys. With that money, he was able to purchase 10 grocery stores. And the a year later, Alicia gave birth to twin girls,  Hannah, and Annah. Double grace and favor!

Justice, lived to see his children’s children.

And God bless Justice's latter, greater than his former!

The End

“

[a-queer-seminarian]

free will, predestination

So i’m reading through my Presbyterian Heritage and Polity notes in preparation for my ordination exams next week and figured I’d throw all the theology that confuses me most into one text post.

Providence and Free Will

According to Calvin, God is a micro-manager:

There is no moment in your life when God is not with you, actively loving you in that moment

At its best, providence means that God is active in all parts of the world

And then this is where it gets bizarre and confusing and i just gotta be like Calvin. honey. no.

Because Calvin’s idea of free will is the compatibilist idea – free will is compatible with divine determinism

Shannon’s example: Today I put on a green shirt; God determined that I would put that green shirt on. I had the agency, I had to go through the process of choosing the shirt and putting it on, but it would not have happened if God had not determined it.

So like, I did use free will to pick my shirt – but God also made it happen. Somehow…both…are true

Everything has two layers: human agency & intention, and divine agency & intention.

Meanwhile, other theologians have another take on free will – the incompatibilist idea (Gustavo Guierrez is on this team and so am i)

God limits Hir power, gives us room to do things that are against the will of God

SO YEAH, Calvin alludes to Amos being like, “There is no evil in the city but God has done it” – like, if something bad happened it’s because God determined it will.

I just. Nope. Sorry guess it’s just the Catholic in me jumpin out but No Evil Thing Comes From God thank you very much

Shannon spent so much time and energy trying to make this make sense for us and trying to explain how the heck Calvin could believe this stuff, I love you Shannon you work so hard. has the seminary given you a raise lately? they should

Calvin’s context is key to understanding why he thinks what he does about free will

he was writing in a time of communal danger -- his community had been kicked out of the Church and exiled from their country, and feared violence from several sides

what he was saying is that no matter how messed up everything seems, we are actually safe as kittens in the hands of God 

There is no part of what is happening that is beyond God’s control and loving care

see like. I agree with that wholeheartedly. God deeply cares about what’s going on – but I can only imagine Xe has limited Hir control over what’s going on or bad shit wouldn’t happen

But yeah Shannon was like “when it’s communal endangerment like what Calvin’s little community of excommunicated refugees were going through, this theology is comforting. When it’s individual pain like a rape or abuse, it’s less comforting. When it’s suffering viewed on a global scale, that’s also less comforting”

Shannon admits she doesn’t believe that even Calvin himself would believe this stuff today – his view of suffering was so local; we now see suffering across the centuries and across the world and how race and gender and all play into that

“I don’t think it really works to say let’s take this theology and apply it to individual cases where it would be harmful, or this massive case of race across the last six hundred years”

Which is basically her way of saying we shouldn’t go with his view of free will these days i’m pretty sure. Whew. Thank you, Shannon

Okay, you know, I do kinda get it…like. If you are in a community like Calvin’s (or like ancient Judah when people wouldn’t stop conquering them and their sister nation just got frickin. wiped out.) and you are Completely Powerless, your survival depending on the Whims of rulers who don’t give a damn about you….it makes sense that thinking that everything, even the Bad, is being pre-ordained by God.

Like, “my life is not just determined by the shitty choices made by people in the past or present, but also by a God who intends good for me.”

…But then Calvin loses me again because when it comes to wondering why God decided to make the world like this – why God not only allows but apparently determines suffering –

Calvin is like, “uh that curiosity is a sin.” Calvin says you’re not supposed to ask those questions – that asking questions is good but there’s a limit

Uh, dude, ya ever read Habakkuk?? we’re allowed to ask God why

Anyway, as if that weren’t all baffling enough it’s time for the really hard part --

Predestination!!

So. One of the core beliefs of Reformed theology is that no part of us is not tainted by sin -- if we were pools of water and sin were ink, we’d see that the ink has permeated the whole pool, not just parts of it.

Therefore, as Shannon says, “it would be really bad news if our salvation were based on getting it right” -- our wills are so bound up by sin, we would not be able to save ourselves.

“Help, we’ve fallen and we can’t get up”

Luckily, no part of our salvation is up to us -- it’s all up to God

“it would be logical, Calvin says (i personally disagree bc dude wtf), for God to just throw us all away – but God decides to save all of us. What this means is that our eternal state, whether we are in heaven or hell, has no causal relation with our works on the planet. How we behave does not determine whether we go to heaven or hell. It’s God decision, made before we are born, not based on how we’re gonna be – God just decides.”

That being said...

“If God decides we are among the elect, we get some goodies – and that can help us screw up a little less in the world. But God’s grace comes first; we still cannot save ourselves on our own”

The “goodies” Shannon’s talking about are like, virtues or something; a desire to do good -- so like, we can have a pretty good idea of who is “elect” based on their actions (i’m not a fan of this and Shannon admits it’s been used to judge and stuff)

“So God saves us, and we respond to that with gratitude.”

Why this idea was a big deal back in the day, whether you agree or not:

Calvin’s idea of predestination was the ultimate stripping of power from the Roman Catholic Church – God decides, not the pope or bishops or priests; it’s not based on how good I am or how much money I have for indulgences

Some context:

Calvin is teaching all this to people who are studying to be pastors. They’re going to be going back to places where they can be killed for these beliefs – they are scared they will be murdered, and most of all they are scared they will recant under torture.

Calvin tells them: God has already saved you. You would not be in this room if God had not. If you recant, it does not undo that fact. – incredibly comforting for them

So don’t be scared – instead, you can respond to God’s grace

The idea of being “elect” should not cause one to be proud but act with humility

It is radically against Calvin’s predestination to imagine you are superior for your elect status; you have nothing to do with it

You should never be proud and judging other people for not being “good Christians.” You were not saved because you were a good Christian. You are learning how to be a good Christian because God saved you while you were a screw-up.

There is no illusion of meritocracy in Calvin’s grace theology – grace is free. No one earns it.

Okay. So. there are actually two “kinds” of predestination you can believe in:

Double Predestination:

God picked some people for heaven and picked some for hell

“I think that the number of PCUSA Presbyterians who believe in double predestination can be counted on two hands”

Single Predestination:

everyone is originally headed to hell, but God picks some for heaven (God didn’t elect anyone to hell as in double predestination; i.e. God does not actively damn anyone, God just doesn’t actively save them)

And another option based on that:

You can argue that grace is free for absolutely everybody -- everyone has been elected, predestined for heaven

Barth is one who says that every human being is predestined to heaven

What about atheists and/or non-Christians?

faith is a requirement but also a gift

broaden the idea of what the response to being elected is

did Calvin assume everyone elect was in the church? yes. But his theology does not actually require it.

maybe a faithful response can mean more than blatant assent to Christ

___

The monster under the bed of all this predestination stuff is the Protestant Work Ethic that developed from it after Calvin’s death

everyone trying to demonstrate that they are among the elect by being better

that’s the exact opposite of Calvin’s point!

this attempt to prove we’re elect evinces our sinful nature:

oh, we don’t work to earn our salvation? okay, we’ll work to prove it instead

and a pit of guilt:

some of us feel like we have to work nonstop for the betterment of the world as we live out our salvation

the theological definition of pride is the attempt to justify your own life

“I know that my life is worthwhile because I have these friends, I’ve accomplished these things, I help these people” 

Calvinist theology says No, your life has already been justified and you didn’t have anything to do with it. And now you live that out in gratitude and grace of others.

To sum all this up,

There’s a lot of Calvin’s thoughts here that I don’t think I agree with. I absolutely do not believe that evil things are determined or willed in any way by God -- but I do understand a little better the context that led Calvin to believing that.

I also only like a Predestination that argues that all humanity has been elected -- because “God shows no partiality” -- how or why would God only have chosen some of us sinners and not others? Is God arbitrary?

Still, I like how this theology of Predestination was part of Calvin’s attempts to do away with meritocracy. That’s something so many of us, especially people like me who are white and act like we are successful because of our own merit (we “pulled ourselves up by our own bootstraps” without regard for all the unearned privileges that support our economic well-being) could stand to learn. We don’t earn salvation -- it’s a gift. If we truly grasped that, we would be liberated from our sense of guilt and shame and from our pride.

But even though I get it a little better, I really hope that predestination does not show up on the exams next week.

[leatherbookmarking]

OK SO WELCOME 2 GUSU LIVEBLOGGIN because i reblogged but didn’t comment, like a little worm,

(from ch1)

1. lxc listening to (i assume) mainsteam radio warms my heart to no end

2. god!!! i’ve been sitting in the same place since i was born, essentially, but the feeling of returning to a beloved place!!! is v nicely shown here.... dreamy sigh i went to one (1) summer camp (? trip? who knows) and hated it 65% of the time but let’s blame that on me being 11 and not entirely into the concept of “rich kids in a catholic school” concept (lmao guess what junior high i went to 2 years later) BUT based on this into alone (and quarantine yearnings) i would 100% abandon everything and fuck off to gusu at any given moment

3. lan zhan is so protective of gusu hhhgggggg i am soft like tapioca pearls

4. i am soft like overcooked tapioca pearls... the way camp elders act with lwj is so ughhhh and “zhanzhan” ZHANZHAN!!! MOM I DIE

5. (through tears) WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN FEEDING HIM, XICHEN

6. (while vibrating) family dynamicsssssss

7. “Wen Qing unceremoniously shoving Huaisang over to be able to sit next to Wangji“ i love a girl

8. loving how lwj chooses not to ask re: mysterious new staff member when he’s still in the car with xichen, yknow? so he can react to it in peace and privacy, and then, as everyone’s like, oh you KNOW, considering who’s joining us this year! (lwj internally: who) oh don’t you know yet! (lwj internally: WHO. WHO!!!) wouldn’t you like to know!!!

9. wei ‘of course i am not experiencing any negative emotions, what are you talking about, i am SMILING, see? happy!” wuxian strikes BACK oh how i love this stupid boy

10. i vaguely remember you saying something something i don’t want to write serious stuff, they’re xianxia characters in a summer camp setting!, and then i was like OH HO BUT BY ALL MEANS, and then you did, and then i’m like :’’’’’’’’’’’’) it’s fine.jpeg hurt me!! hurt me with sixteen years old boys on a summer camp!!!

11. back 2 the present and xichen once again wins the mvp title. “alright, here’s the thing--”

12. ALRIGHT, HERE’S THE THING

13. baby

14. “Xichen,” he repeats, almost desperately, but everyone else clearly sees the opportunity to leave this particular situation“ SITUATIONAL COMEDY AT ITS FINEST!!!!

15. absolutely in love w/ how everyone takes one (1) look at lwj and decides ha! this sounds like a he problem! bye!!!

16. even xichen

17. ESPECIALLY XICHEN!!!

18. MIANMIAN MIANMIAN MIANMIAN being tiny!!! hugging lan zhan!!! i love you!!!

19. “you’re the one getting shorter” okay ao MAYBE my heart burst in my chest from sheer tenderness, but also maybe it DIDN’T. can you prove it? thought so!!!

20. tapioca update: it didn’t go well. however! if you ever need wallpaper glue,

21. picturing jc wrangling nhs fills me with so much joy also

22. GOD!!! wwx standing on top of the stairs!!! time stopping!!! ‘oh no he’s hot’!!!! LAN ZHAN YOU GAY DISASTER

23. lan zhan: Processes how hot wwx has gotten

wwx: STILL THE DEATH GLARE HUH :’D

Do I Have To Say Anything

24. “Wei Wuxian tries to match his death glare, a very valiant attempt for someone with a face as animated as him, and gives up about three seconds later, bursting into laughter“

CUTE!!!!!!!

25. THE EXODUS!!! AH THE DRAMATIC EXODUS!!!!! i am a BIG slut for “ugh you HAD to come back and LIGHT A FIRE IN MY CHEST AGAIN, you ASSHOLE >:/” moments, the SLUT LEVEL in me overshadows jin guangshan’s, i am QUEEN SLUT for moments like those B L E S S

in which we move onwards to ch2. will i embarrass myself further with excessive exclamation marks? let’s find out!!!!

26. “wow. you’re doing such a good job selling me this“ i was already in heart eyes over the bros but this line just!!! lol

27. IS LAN ZHAN GOING TO BE THERE

28. [DRAFT]!!!!!!!!!

29. lan xichen is having at least as much fun as i have with this situation, and i love it

30. but he does have the courtesy to look ashamed

31. from time to time :-)

32. but not always :-)

33. lan “brother i love you but you and wei wuxian should be KISSING as we speak so don’t you ‘you didn’t’ me :>” xichen

34. “do you remember how many rules he broke” you sure it’s just the RULES, my boy

35. i’m honestly, honestly really loving lxc here. like yes the two main idiots are delightful but... zewu-jun.... cute....

36. “all the other things his head is suggesting he do“ SNORT is “sit on the floor and sulk about wei wuxian daring to exist, and like this” one of them gfkhgfsk

37. “surely there’s no way in hell xichen would“ xichen, as soon as wangji went to his cabin: please. please. PLEASE

38. the part about crown shyness is tiny but so pretty. i feel severely lacking in summer camp tree trivia now

39. “And then Wangji sees him, and all rational thought promptly abandons him for dead“ wangxian summed up in one sentence (jk)

40. SO UH IS HE SINGLE i wholeheartedly enjoy wwx being Whacked

41. “when Wei Wuxian recalls the people who used to, and still should be, standing by his side, he only meets with a dismissive ‘Long story’ from his brother, and a somewhat nervous ‘I’ll tell you later’ from Nie Huaisang” oh? oh??  oh??? OH?????

42. oh yeah i forgot 2 mention before but lwj playing the guitar makes me feel... things... like yeah string instruments BUT guqin is so fancy and dignified, meanwhile guitar is... somehow... i mean of course lwj is a pro and makes everyone swoon playing the easiest chords but the THING is guitar is such a friend-shaped instrument... i need to lie down hold up

43. A NING A NING A NING A NINGGGGGGGG THE BOY IS HERE!!! making wwx almost inhale his harmonica no less! king of powerful entrances, truly

44. “what really happened to Nie Huaisang’s older brother, who was once ride-or-die for both Gusu and Lan Xichen (he got a job very far abroad, that’s all Wen Ning knows, and Wei Wuxian promises himself he’s going to pour some alcohol into Huaisang eventually to make him spill the beans)“ vibrates, at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings

45. the grass scene is wonderful 2 me for two reasons: one, WWX PLAYING A BLADE OF GRASS. i just watched a yt vid in which a dude does make it actually play, which is amazing, but my experience consists mostly of emitting one PTWEEEEET and making everyone almost jump out of their skins. good times! two, the contrast between this scene and the one in ep2... cql: wuji.mp3, slowmo, passionate gazes, wtg: wwx torturing a blade of grass, STILL making lwj (wayward) come to him. true love!!! truly true love!!!

46. yells @ wwx’s cute habit still being present

47. the following scenes are too gentle and sweet for me to formulate coherent thoughts.... i’m just sitting here, chihanding, sighing dreamily, thank you, bless

48. “Lan Zhan he once knew is still in there“ ah, sensei, sorry, i won’t be submitting my thesis this year.... i need at least six months to cope with this sentence... ご迷惑をかけて申し訳ございません

49. BABY WANGXIANS bonding over rabbits... lan zhan looking almost proud when wwx mentions his big brother...

50. “WE’RE GOING TO HAVE A GREAT SUMMER, YOU AND I” OI!!! WEI WUXIAN!!! WEI YING!!! is it legal to be so (gestures) CUTE at the tender age of nine??? hm???

[emily-roses-babble]

Second Grade Confessions

If you’ve never been to confession, it’s a bit like the DMV, except instead of getting your driver's license you get absolved from your sins. First, everyone stands in a line and is told to “think hard” about what to say before they go in and tell a priest all of the mediocre sins they’ve committed. The best way to know if you’ve sinned, the teacher would tell us, is to think about how God would react to your actions. Would he be disappointed to know you cheated on a test? If you think God would be upset then he is absolutely furious. “Guilt is a message from God,” we were told. “It is him speaking directly towards you, having you feel the weight of your sins.”

Seven is the age when children attend their first confession. By now the Catholic Church decides you’ve dealt out enough suffering in the world and that you need to be saved from your sins. In school, confession was an event- a celebration, almost. After the fact children were awarded cookies and chips as a condescending way of saying, “Congrats! You’re free of sin!” But before that happens, you have to endure the terrifying ordeal of being known only by your gravest mistakes. The point of confession is to get God to like you again. And everyone really wants God to like them, obviously. So, I was excited to attend my first Holy Confession. 

You wait in line for what seems like hours and feel the burden of your sins. And you’re told to behave- no dozing off or talking, you must look straight forward and contemplate. Familiar classmates go in before you, spend time behind a velvet curtain, and then come out and kneel on carpeted steps as they say penance. It’s deafeningly silent, save for the coughs of sick children and the sound of heels against the marble. When the time comes your teacher leads you through the curtain and you are faced with a choice; either face-to-face confessional or one behind a screen. I’ve heard mixed things about both. I once knew a very Holy girl whose parents were in the Church choir who would choose the face-to-face method. She’d tell us it’s more relaxing because it feels like a conversation rather than an exam. I also knew a boy who was big and brutish and would be bullied more if he wasn’t so intimidating. He would always choose the screen method, and always left the confessional crying. 

For my first time, I chose the screen. I didn’t do well with eye contact, and the screen had the Act of Contrition taped to the wall, so I could read from it. The Act of Contrition is a tiny prayer we had to memorize and recite before each confession. It goes like this:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee: and I detest my sins most sincerely because they displease Thee, my God, Who art so deserving of all my love for Thy infinite goodness and most amiable perfections: and I firmly purpose by Thy holy grace never more to offend Thee.”

I could never memorize it. I had difficulty memorizing most things. Though the prayer was posted everywhere, like eyes, always watching for your mistakes, I never paid it notice.

So after the Act of Contrition the priest asks for your sins. The night before I wrote down all of the things I was to mention- I didn’t go to Church often, I stole cookies from my Grandmother’s pantry, I quarreled with friends over boy bands, and my parents fought a lot. I didn’t consider that last one to be a sin, but the teachers say that you can also ask your priest for advice.

So I did. I told him that, a few days ago, my father approached me and asked how I would feel if Mommy and Daddy got divorced. I became upset, but he told me that he and Mommy might be happier separated. I believed it to be so. I asked the priest if he agreed.

The priest then came around to my side of the confessional- breaking my wish of no eye-contact, and knelt down beside me. In a low voice, he said “listen, Emily, you cannot let your parents get a divorce. Divorcees go straight to Hell, and they damn their children too. You must do everything in your power to keep them together. But keep it a secret. They shouldn’t be guilted into staying together.” Then he told me to say ten Hail Marys and sent me on my way.

As though ten Hail Marys were going to save my parents marriage! Imagine, telling a single-digit aged child, that God does not like them because of something outside of their control? The constant disapproval from someone who loves you more than anything? You, child, who can’t count to a 100 yet, who doesn’t know how to multiply. You, are being watched by some all-powerful being that you can never meet until you die. And this all-powerful being came to Earth thousands of years ago and he died for you and suffered for you. And because of this, the rest of your life is spent trying to repay the debt. He created you. And every time you do something wrong, he shuts the gates to paradise and hates you. Because you should know what’s right and wrong already. Feel guilty, because you were born a sinner. 

But I kept it a secret like he said. I behaved. I kept my head forward and didn't talk to my friends, or my family. I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, because I was afraid. I knew that the more I behaved the less likely my parents were to fight. And that was the trick, what kept you in God’s favor: being quiet. Don’t speak up about what bothers you. I became what God wanted, and that’s all you had to do. 

I was taught this before I knew how to read. God loves me under one specific condition: that I am perfect. Before I learned about slavery, corruption, pollution, sex trafficking. Before I knew about all the awful things God created, I was taught that he loved me and he would save me. Save me from what? 

What have I done wrong?

[funeral-clown]

at last, beth, the triad is complete

gay lawyers

Kevin Punt was an asshole. Violent. Angry. Sadistic.

You know, an asshole.

When Nelson and Murdock put him away for a few years, Foggy started resting a bit easier. Not much, because, well. Drop in the ocean. And. Well. Crime fighting partner with a masochistic streak. And. W e l l.

He didn’t sleep much.

But he slept better after locking Kevin Punt behind bars.

So when his parole hearing came up, he and Matt were quick to retake the case. The evidence was irrefutable, and the last thing they wanted was a monster like him back on the streets. 

Kevin Punt’s family was, to say the least, not pleased.

“Ma’am,” Matt interjected in his best ‘I am a sexy blind lawyer, please give me your attention and listen to me and maybe take your shirt off if you want haha just kidding but seriously listen to me’ voice (although that may just be Foggy’s interpretation). “I’m sorry you have to go through this again. But the fact of the matter is, your cousin was guilty. No one wants to face their family members’ dark side, but in Mr. Punt’s case, his violent tendencies and criminal persuasions make him a danger to the public.”

“My cousin,” the young woman hissed back, tears burning in her eyes like rage, “Was innocent. You’re liars. You’re as corrupt as everyone else in this damn city!”

“Hey,” Foggy began, “I know it’s hard to hear-”

His frankly very soothing tone apparently did not work. It was possible his frustration was poking through.

“He’s innocent! He would never hurt anyone, he’s just confused!”

“Sure,” Matt sighed, exhausted, “He didn’t commit egregious acts of violence. He just stumbled into that store owner with a baseball bat. Multiple times.”

“That’s unsubstantiated!”

“There was VIDEO!”

“Doctored evidence!”

“Miss Punt,” Matt broke through, a hint of his alter ego breaking through the thin veneer of civility, “I offer my condolences again. One can’t choose their relatives, and I admire your support. But I’m going to have to insist you leave.”

She stiffened.

“Fine,” she snapped, “But we’ll see how you silver-tongued lawyers do in court when the truth comes out.”

“Pretty sure we’ll rock it, ok, thanks for coming in! Bye!” Foggy watched as she stormed out the door. “Aaaaand she’s gone. Jesus, the whackadoo apple must consist of the whole family tree.”

Matt hummed.

“It was a little weird though, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“What she said. That last bit.”

Foggy shrugged.

“You didn’t see it, but she had desperate written all over her. She’s just another grieving family member with false hope. Sad, but not exactly uncommon. I expected her to say fake news next.”

Matt stared at the door, considering.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Anyway, are you hungry? I could murder some pad thai.”

Matt snorted, and the daily lunch argument began. The strange encounter soon fled to the back of his mind.

For the moment.

-

When Matt came in for work the next morning, his body was still sore from a relatively painful night. Not too much activity, with his reputation, but it just meant the people who were out and about were more prepared than usual. The armor could only do so much against a taser. Still, the ache was good. It was the ache of a job well done, an ache that saved lives. He took a quiet pride in it, in what his body could do. That said, the day would look much better after a cup of coffee.

“Wow,” Foggy remarked fondly, “You look like hell.”

Matt groaned.

“Do you ever get sick of making that pun?”

“Nah,” he said, “It feels fresh every time. Besides, you like the puns.”

“No, they’re childish and lame,” Matt says. 

This is not what comes out of Matt’s mouth.

“Yes, the teasing is a comforting reminder of how far we’ve come since you first discovered my vigilantism. I was afraid of losing you, and the fact that we can now openly joke about it is reassuring.”

Foggy stared, cup halfway to his mouth.

“Uh. Wow, buddy. Thanks for the. Honesty?”

Matt frowned.

“That’s. Not what I meant to say.”

“No, don’t wig out now. It’s kinda refreshing, not having to guess what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah,” Matt said dubiously, “I keep a lot of things private from you because I fear for your safety, and I know it frustrates you but I’m not willing to put you in harm’s way for my own sake.”

Matt glared down at his hands. Foggy’s eyes widened in shock.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Matt’s eyes snapped up.

“Foggy.”

“Matthew,”

“Lie to me.”

Foggy stood up, leaning over his desk.

“What’s that?”

“Lie to me. Something’s wrong. I need to make sure it’s just me.”

He could feel Foggy look him over.

“You look the same, pal. And by that I mean extremely attractive.”

Foggy breathed in sharply. Matt smirked.

“Let me guess.”

“I didn’t mean to say that!”

“Foggy. Something is very wrong.”

“I stole your pillow in college because it smelled like you and it helped me fall asleep!”

“Fog, I. You. Jesus, Foggy!”

“I need to leave right now immediately.”

Before he could stop him, his partner had grabbed his jacket and was out the door.

“Wait!” he called out. But Foggy was already gone.

-

Danny hummed thoughtfully over the phone, staring in consideration at the paper in front of him.

“Well, it’s a good thing you called me.”

Matt sighed.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else, and if I could have I would have called literally anyone else.”

“Hey!”

“Rand, I can’t help it! I’m compelled to honesty!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk. Well, more of a jerk than usual.”

Matt grit his teeth.

“You’re a man with the heart of a child and the power of at least a MINOR god, I don’t think you’re very responsible and quite frankly while I’m very proud of the strides you’ve taken with your company and wouldn’t want it in any other hands I’m morally opposed to billionaires.”

Danny nodded, beginning to fold creases into the paper.

“Yeah, sounds like a truth spell buddy. You piss off any witches?”

“None that I know of.”

Danny shrugged.

“I just shrugged.”

“I could hear it.”

“You can hear shrugs?”

“Danny.”

“Look, best I can say is let it runs it’s course. These type of things are meant to teach us lessons.”

“I don’t have time for zen bullshit!”

“Sure, Catholic. Also tampering with the spell might make it permanent. Which.”

“Fuck.”

“Have fun saying your Hail Mary’s for that.”

“Good bye, Daniel.”

“Bye, Matt!”

He waited for the click before presenting the table with a perfectly folded paper football.

“You ready for this, Luke?”

“Oh, I was born ready.”

-

“Foggy,” Matt’s phone politely informed him. “Foggy. Foggy. Fo-”

“Answer,” he snapped.

“It’s a truth spell!” Foggy blurted.

“Yeah, I know. I talked to Danny.”

“Rand? Really?”

“He was on a magical temple for most of his life. How did you figure it out?”

“I just asked Stephen Strange.”

“What?”

“I’m his lawyer. And I never grumble at him, so he likes me better.”

“What did Strange have to say?”

“He said it would probably run about a week, and if he tampered with it it might become permanent.”

“Sounds about the same.”

“You know who did this, right?”

“Punt.”

Foggy growled.

“I am getting really sick of that family, Matt.”

“It’ll be over soon.”

“This is going to make working on the case hell.”

“Why?”

“Because now I have to actively resist telling everyone I know that you’re Daredevil. And I have to actively resist telling you that I-”

The dial tone clicked.

Foggy had apparently found a loophole.

-

It was awkward. They both left the room multiple times. Matt didn’t know what Foggy was keeping secret, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he was in love with him. Even if it was obvious to everyone else.

“You know,” Foggy remarked over noodles, “This curse sucks, but like. It kinda evens the playing field.”

Matt quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean. You can tell I’m lying whenever you want. But. Now I know for sure you’re not lying to me, either.”

“I’m sorry I hurt your trust enough that you worry about that.”

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t trust me.”

“I didn’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

“I’d put myself in harm’s way for you any day. We’re bros.”

Matt bit his tongue.

“Matt?”

Matt bit harder.

“Matt, what the fuck your mouth is bleeding! What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to keep things to myself,” he grunted, hoarse.

“Jesus, Matt, do I need to leave?”

“I never want you to leave.”

“What?”

“I never want you to leave.”

Foggy paused, wheeling the chair around the desk to be knee to knee with him. He radiated caution.

“Well. I never want to have to leave you, buddy.”

“I don’t,” Matt choked out, throat closing from the strain of keeping the words down, “Want to be your buddy.”

Foggy smelled hurt.

“What?”

“Foggy. I don’t just want to be your buddy.”

Foggy gulped.

“I’ve been trying really hard, here, Matty.”

“I know.”

“I don’t. Want to misunderstand. But it hurts to not say what I want to say. What I’ve always wanted to say. And I don’t. I don’t want to say it, if you’re. If you’re not gonna say it back. Not gonna feel it back.”

“Foggy,” Matt whispered.

“Matt.”

“I knew you took my pillow.”

“I know you knew.”

“I never asked to switch back.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Foggy’s hand shook as it reached forward and rested on Matt’s. His skin nearly screamed at the sensation, aching all over from the long time sense he had last been touched like this. Carefully. As if he were fragile. As if he could break.

“Foggy,” he breathed.

“I really want to kiss you,” he admitted, half hope and half rue.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for almost 7 years.”

“Well,” Foggy leaned in, “Better late than never.”

It was soft, and firm, and a little wet. It was an everyday, normal, average kiss.

Matt lit up everywhere like an electric panel, gasping as the sensation washed over him. Gripping his hair, he pulled Foggy in deeper, opening his mouth in an attempt to steal back his breath.

“I love you,” he whispered into his mouth, “I think I might have loved you my entire life. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Foggy’s hands tightened around his thighs.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you since we first met. I’ve loved you for so long I don’t know how not to love you.”

“Don’t learn,” Matt hissed, fierce. “Don’t learn how. If you left I’d be lost.”

“Don’t worry, Matty,” Foggy laughed, pulling him in closer by his tie, “You’re the fast learner.”

-

The trial wasn’t very long. They presented the evidence, spoke of the victim’s family, mentioned his irrational behavior, spoke of the personal threats they’d received in the mail. 

Every word of it was honest and true.

Kevin Punt did not receive parole.

His cousin stood in the audience, crying as he was taken away, screaming threats.

“It’s true,” she whispered. “He really did those terrible things.”

Foggy lay a comforting hand on her elbow.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

She nodded, sniffling.

“Also, you’re a bitch for placing that spell on us.”

She stiffened, before sighing and nodding again.

“I just wanted him to have every chance.”

Foggy squeezed her elbow and left.

“I guess I deserved that. You make someone speak truth, he’ll call you a bitch.”

“Oh, he would have called you that anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like it when his privacy is invaded. I should know, I’m Da-”

“MATT. I need you to come take me home until this thing wears off!”

Matt turned towards the door.

“Be right there, sweetheart.”

He offered his arm to the woman.

“Thank you.”

“For what? I need you to lead me to my partner.”

“Oh! Right, I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem.”

Bitch, he added silently.

“We’re going to have victory sex after this,” he added.

“The spell wore off after the hearing!”

“I know,” he was giddy, “I just wanted everyone to know. I’m a very lucky man.”

“That you are, Matt,” Foggy took his arm from the stricken woman and gave his hand a squeeze. “That you are.”

“Did you just wink at me?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

There were some benefits to honesty.

[vipclifford]

dazed and confused pt.4

A/N: this was very self indulgent but idc

Calum’s fingers bounced upon the keyboard, none being pressed, leaving the document blank before his eyes. His copy of Les Miserables laid open by the side of his laptop, endless annotations and highlights filling up the novel. He flicked through its pages, looking for a suitable topic to write his essay about. Literature was fucking difficult.

Most thought to focus on the revolution, or Valjean’s character development over the chapters, but Calum wanted something else. Something creative. Something to show his professor he was truly invested in the course.

His phone buzzed, Calum’s brows furrowing st the sound. He was certain he had turned the sound off as an attempt to remove distractions. On the screen was a message from his mother. His daily Bible quote.

Calum sighed, hand rubbing over his face before setting the phone back down where he found it. He still hadn’t told his mother about Noah.

It was only natural, he thought. His mother was a devout catholic, attending mass every Sunday morning and helping out her Christian community whenever she could. A necklace with a wooden cross rested permanently on her collarbone. Growing up, his mother had started a small group with her close friends who had children around his age, making them meet weekly to discuss the word of God. He didn’t hate it, having eventually found friendship between the other teenagers in the group. It just wasn’t his favourite thing to do.

But now Calum was in college and he had just turned 19, and he felt so different from the young boy who had his communion for the first time.

He knew that his mother finding out about Noah would shatter her heart. He knew of the disappointment and shame he would bring onto his family. He knew that it could also sever the ties he had with them. He would be alone.

“Calum,” Michael spoke excitedly as he barged into his room. “My bro, my best friend, the coolest guy I know.”

“What do you want,” he replied monotonously, not looking up from the pages of his book. He was clever enough to see through his endless string of compliments.

“Crystal’s coming over tonight,” he explained, sitting down on the edge of his roommate’s bed. “So, you know. I think you might rather sleep somewhere else tonight, if you know what I mean,” Michael smirked, meeting Calum’s unamused look.

“You guys are like rabbits,” he complained, nose scrunching up in disgust .

“Trust me when I say that if you liked women you’d understand.” Calum simply rolled his eyes at his words, saving his blank word document before closing his laptop. “So?”

“I could probably crash at Noah’s if he’s not busy, I don’t know,” he shrugged, grabbing his phone. He swiped left on the notification from his mother, leaving his lockscreen on display. It was a picture of himself and Noah. His lips were happily pressed against Noah’s cheek as his boyfriend laughed about something he couldn’t quite remember. It was one of his favourite pictures.

“He’s literally in love with you, of course he’ll let you stay over,” Michael said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was.

“No he’s not,” Calum answered all too quickly. It was Michael’s turn to roll his own eyes, unwilling to listen to his weekly speech about how much he rejected love. How it’s all just chemicals in the brain, loading you up with enough serotonin to make you delusional.

“Whatever, just piss off tonight, yeah?”

Calum twirled the metal spoon mechanically around in his cup of coffee. It was barely considered a coffee, for it was loaded up with enough milk and sugar to mask its bitter taste. Whatever Noah was talking about was going in one ear and out of the other, completely merging into background noise. Instead he watched the small tornado in his drink.

“You alright?”

He looked up to meet concerned eyes staring back at him. Calum nodded, taking a sip from the hot drink. ‘Still bitter,’ he thought, nose scrunching up slightly in disgust.

“My mind is just elsewhere, sorry,” he explained with a careless shrug, eyes scanning their small table for a small packet of sugar.

“Here,” said Noah, handing Calum a small packet of sweetener. He always scolded Calum for opting for sugar, telling him sweetener was a much healthier option that still got the job done. He took it defeatedly, too lazy to stand up to get the sugar he wanted. “You want to talk about it or be distracted from it?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, pouring the sweetener into his drink. He swirled the powder around, refusing to look up and meet Noah’s gaze. “It’s something I should probably talk about but I don’t want to.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you talk about it?” Noah suggested, unsure of how to handle the situation. Instead they sat quietly for the next few minutes as Calum debated whether or not to speak.

“What was it like for you when you came out to your parents?”

“Uh, I was fifteen I’m pretty sure, and the three of us were sat at the table. They were both on their phones or reading a book or whatever. And then I said that I had something to tell them, and my mum asked me if I had a girlfriend. I said no, obviously,” he clarified with a small chuckle. “Then I just said ‘I’m gay,’ and they were like ‘okay.’ They didn’t even look up from what they were doing. They were just completely fine with it, acting as if I had just told them my favourite colour.”

“That’s good though,” Calum mumbled. “That’s exactly how people should react. Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”

Noah grasped his boyfriend’s hand, fingers lacing before giving it a gentle squeeze. He stood up from his seat suddenly, fingers still interlocked as he suggested to ‘go for a walk.’

Calum’s arm was swung over Noah’s chest, bare leg tucked between his. The thin layer of sweat over his body made the sheets stick to his skin. A lazy smile pulled on his lips as he thought of what they were doing five minutes prior, fingers tracing the purple bruises on Noah’s collarbones. His boyfriend would occasionally press kisses to his neck, the stubble he sported tickling his skin.

“I don’t think I could ever come out to my parents.”

“Why not,” Noah asked a few seconds later, after letting his heavy confession simmer in the air.

“I can’t imagine a single positive outcome that would come from it. My family is very Catholic, they’d excommunicate me themselves,” he chuckled bitterly, his way of trying to make deep discussions feel less serious. “My parents would never speak to me again and I don’t want to lose them because of something I can’t even control. I didn’t choose to be attracted to men and I didn’t choose to be born into a Christian family. It feels like no matter what I do I can’t win.”

“Nobody is pressuring you to come out right now. You do that when you’re ready, when you feel mentally strong enough to deal with whatever consequences that may come,” Noah explained, fingers threading methodically through Calum’s hair. “And your pessimistic ass is only thinking about the worst possible outcome.”

“It feels like it’s the only one,” he murmured, rolling onto his back. Noah grabbed Calum’s hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Whatever happens, remember that you’ve got me, and all of your friends, and whatever future boyfriends you may have by your side to deal with it.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Imply that we’re going to break up,” Calum said with an obvious tone. He could see Noah’s lips stretch into a cheeky smile from the corner of his eye, instead choosing to focus on the ceiling.

“You don’t want to break up?” Noah grinned, rolling over onto his side face him.

“If I did I wouldn’t be lying here in your bed, babe,” he replied easily, ears burning red. Noah smiled at his words, deep dimples indenting his rosy cheeks. He placed a hand on Calum’s jaw and turned his head, forcing their eyes to meet. “What? Do you think we’re going to break up eventually?”

“I don’t want us to break up either,” he confessed before rolling over closer to Calum, joining their lips together in a sweet kiss. “You just don’t tend to talk about your feelings. So anything you let slip about how you feel about me makes me really happy.”

Calum found himself back in front of that same blank word document a few days later. His phone buzzed with a message from his mother, a Bible quote about perseverance.

He thought back to his conversation with Noah while his fingers typed and deleted a reply like a scratched vinyl. He threw his phone gently across the room and onto his bed as soon as he hit send, the device burning his hands like acid. Now he just had to wait for a reply.

‘Hi, mum. I’ve been dating a boy for the past few months. I know that you believe in God and that it says in the Bible that it’s a sin, but you don’t have to be scared because it also says that God created everyone in his image and that everyone is of equal worth. I’m sorry if this upsets you. Hugs from Calum.’

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