#who is allowed by society to treat his wife like a servant?

[magnoliamyrrh]

my favourite anti radfem gotcha is "lower class men exist!!!" .... yes babe. yes they do. do you know how often homeless women get raped by homeless men. didnt you grow up being heckled as a clearly young teen on the streets by full ass grown homeless men. did you not yourself grow up poor and see other poor men in your life who had almost nothing still have a wife to torment beat rape and abuse. do you really think poor men are magically any different. do you think they feel some sort of proletariat allegiance with you - because most of them dont, and its been shown enough times enough leftist men are still real pieces of work who see women as subhuman. literally what is your fucking point

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Enver Gortash Musings 7

Warnings: a somewhat sad conversation between Enver and his wife less than a year into their arranged marriage.

When you first married Enver Gortash, you were only shown the same side of him the public saw. The man who dined with high society, treating guests to his private chef and full table. The man who used his utensils delicately and properly, like a born and raised gentleman. The man who had impeccable table manners and restraint.

It wasn't until well over half a year into your marriage, when you had become pregnant, that Enver was around you a little more. You found the baby to be quite restless at night, and the sound of Enver's workshop seemed to calm your still growing child.

"This is soothing to them?" Enver asked, hammering somewhat gently at a bit of copper.

You sat on a chaise lounge that you had the servants bring into his workshop. Your hand rested on your ever swelling belly, "All I know is that all day your child has been kicking, fussing, rolling, acting like they're in a gods damned war, and the second I walk in here and am surrounded by the sounds of your anvil, they go still."

Enver stopped, putting his hammer down and smirking at you. "I've never heard you curse before, my darling wife."

The exhaustion of the day catching up with you, you close your eyes, taking a slightly trembling breath. "I've never been so tired in my life."

When you open your eyes again, Enver has come to sit with you on the chaise. His hands encircle your baby bump, rubbing and soothing the tight skin. "Tell me."

"I can't sleep." You admit tearfully. "They keep me awake with their moving. It honestly feels like they're trying to run sometimes! Just so much movement I feel I may tear open at times."

Enver nodded, stroking your belly and smiling sympathetically. "And?"

"And my shoes don't fit." You cry, wiping your face. "none of my shoes fit! Not even the ones I had made last month. All I can wear are slippers and those still hurt my feet! My mother wore heels and a corset for every pregnancy, I don't understand what I'm doing wrong!"

He reaches his hand up, petting your hair while smiling sweetly. "All babies are not the same, this I'm sure you already know, my darling. Even still, I can have the doctor check your progress in the morning? If you truly feel there's something wrong."

You hesitated, "Nothing wrong with a check up I suppose..."

Enver puts his hands on your waist, massaging gently. "There we go, that's my girl."

You couldn't help the smile that he pulled from you. Your husband was a distant man in most regards, never really letting you into his more complex affairs nor opening up about his past. As far as noble husbands went, Enver was definitely one of the better to have. He wasn't gambling away your fortune, or squandering your dowry. He saw you almost every day, and was interested in your life. And if he was having affairs, which you doubted his schedule allowed for, word never reached your ears. So if he was having affairs, he was being discreet about it. Which is more than most noblemen did. Your friends could recall their husband's mistresses by name.

For all of his faults, he wasn't shy about telling you that he found you beautiful. Sometimes the lines felt a bit practiced, like he had rehearsed them... Or used them on someone else. But simple little bits of praise that he effortlessly slipped into conversation felt genuine.

You moved on the chaise, sitting up and holding his hands. "I... Enver, are you happy?"

Enver stared down at you, a puzzled look on his face that quickly gave away to a smirk. "Is this one of those feminine verbal traps?"

"No." You said quickly. "I'm just asking, and I'd like total honesty, please."

Enver's smirk vanishes. "What brought this on?"

"Enver, please?"

He sighs, moving his hands to rub your back. "I'm quite happy with you and what you bring to my life. There. Does that satisfy you?"

"Partially." You said softly.

He huffed, "Oh? Not quite done?"

You chuckled, "I believe you're content with me. I do. I'm asking whether or not you're happy with everything. With your whole life right now."

Enver stares down at you. "You are aware that if I am not happy, there's nothing you can do to fix that? Correct?"

You frown, the fact making you quite upset.

Enver sighs. "And you don't like that. Why bother yourself with it? Do I not give you enough to keep you content?"

You put a hand on his chest, "No, no, you do! I'm very content, I'm boundlessly happy- except the crying earlier, just ignore that bit!"

You see him pinch his lips together to keep from laughing, but you ignore it. "It's just... If I was unhappy, and I came to you to tell you that I was unhappy, you'd fix whatever was upsetting me."

"I would." He agrees.

"But if you were unhappy... I don't think you'd ever tell me?" You guessed.

Enver's gaze softens. "You want me to tell you? Do you want me to debrief you whenever the council drones on and on for hours about property taxes? Or argue about import and export tariffs? Or perhaps you'd like me to go over the blueprints of my latest design and get your input on the schematics?"

You shrank back from him a bit. "Don't mock me."

Enver takes a deep breath, before situating himself on the chaise and gently guiding you into his lap. "My darling wife, your role in this marriage is very specific. We discussed this before our wedding in dept. Other than you providing me with an heir, that I am extremely grateful for, your duties are relegated to keeping up my relations with the nobles at court through their wives. You're to head charity events that I haven't the time for. You informed me that you'll be the primary caretaker of our children, to which I have acquiesced quite quickly. No wet nurses, as you demanded. Minimal nursing staff, as you demanded. Despite my reservations that this will exhaust you." He said. His voice was firm, yet patient. A voice one might use on a child but without any condescension. A nearly loving tone that was meant to prevent her feelings from being hurt.

"... I just..." You felt more tears spring to your eyes, the words for your feelings having vanished. "I adore you."

Enver leaned down, pressing his lips to your own in a firm and reassuring kiss. "I am fond of you. Perhaps in time, that fondness will grow stronger. I cannot say. Regardless, you will always be my wife and the mother of my child. Respect as such will always be given to you."

You leaned your head on his chest, listening to the strong pulse of his heart beneath his ribs. "Alright... Is... Is it alright if I want to love you, though?"

Enver rubs your back, reassuringly. "I'd be flattered, my darling."

[sombredancer]

Enemies/Rivals to Lovers recipe

(with the mild version aka Pride and Prejudice and the tragic version aka Romeo and Juliet) Step 1: The main heroes are on the opposite sides of any scale (the grumpy one vs a cheerful one, a kind and stupid one vs a cunning and vile one, a demon vs a god, a master vs a servant, people of enemy states or absolutely different cultures etc.).

A cheerful and funny little bird demon-yao Qing Qing and a grumpy and stone-faced deity of Netherworld Xue Qianxun Step 2: They are forced to communicate with each other without a chance to avoid it (e.g. an arranged marriage, being trapped somewhere together, working as a mole in the enemy camp etc.).

Asura King Xuan Ye plays out damsel in distress to get undercover into Heavenly Realm and his future lover Ran Qing is the one who "rescues" him.

Step 3: One party get impressed by unique character features of other (e.g. the person is the only one who isn't terrified by other's scary reputation, the only one who treats other party well etc.).

Even kings and princes are in absolute terror seeing Gwi - an immortal all-powerful vampire, and only Hye Ryung hates him so much that dares to bicker, scold and deny him. Step 4: One of the parties takes the first step towards another and that melts another`s heart.

Even if Hou Ling Changjin hurt Princess Bao Zhu for her miraculous blood, she still cares for him and doesn`t hold a grudge.

"You are injured!"

Step 5: Here come mutual pining, UST and moral sufferings "what is more important: to fulfil the mission / to be accepted by the society / whatsoever or to love?"

Gong Shangjue doubts if he can indulge himself being gentle with the girl he likes if she is an assassin from the enemy clan.

Shangguan Qian adds Shangjue`s favorite flowers into her tea and thinks about her mission of taking him down.

Step 6: It`s time to confess the feelings.

Leader of a diabolic sect Li Chenlan comes to save his beloved who hated him and tried to kill him and promises her to be her sword and shield. So romantic!

Step 7: The parties try to solve the problem that keeps them apart. If the problem is internal (it has something to do with beliefs and prejudice of a person), here it will be solved and «happily ever after» begins.

Despite of his low social status Hao Du ventures to participate in the competition, wins the right to marry the princess (who he is in love with) and dares to be honest explaining that he did it not only in order to save her from a Barbarian prince but because he truly wants to be with her. Step 8: If the problem is external (there is a large-scale conflict and the parties are just some insignificant participants of it), one of the parties sacrifices themselves to solve the problem.

Before saving the world by the cost of his life Demon God Tantai Jin engraves his name on his own tombstone placed next to his beloved wife's one, so in the future she could mourn him in a suitable place.

Step 9: In a satisfying story there is a magical reward of party's brave deed, which is a happy end.

Demon Lord Dongfang Qingcang sacrificed himself in order to save the girl he loved and died but his girlfriend (who happens to be a Goddess with abilities to resurrect the dead) nurtured a piece of his primordial spirit for 500 years and brought him back to life. Side note: If you want to add some chili pepper into your story, you can break this scheme any step from Step 4 on: pining could be one-sided, UST could never ever be resolved, characters could prefer their goals to love or maybe death or other circumstances would do them apart against their will.

The Wolf and Ma Zhaixing finally got together but the cruel world couldn`t allow it to last anytime long.

Bon Appétit! Your Enemies to Lovers story is well-baked!

Also you can see: Asian dramas and Love tropes Asian dramas and my favorite types of characters Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 1) Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 2)

[maysrinn]

Love your art and snowbaird Au’s, can I ask what did Grandma’am and Tigris think about Coriolanus marrying Lucy gray?

Does Tigris visit them and make outfits for Janus, Xanthos, and Rosalyn?

Tigris was very excited to welcome Lucy Gray into the family and asking right away if Lucy gray would allow her to design her wedding dress, planing the wedding, the styling and not being able to sit still for 5 minutes unlike Grandma’am who constantly treated her like a servant while she was living with them. Accusing Lucy Gray of seducing her grandson in taking a “district rodent” such as herself as wife or accused her of trapping him with a bastard child and now he felt obligated to take her as wife. A joke and an insult to the Snow legacy as she put it and didn’t shut up about it until the day she died no matter how many times Coriolanus told her to stop. Lucy Gray took it to heart at first but Tigress reassured her not to do so and that everything will be alright. I’m sure the grandma’am would have been relieved to know that Janus comes in appearance after his father…jokes on her Sejanus is a momma boi in spirit through and through.

_____________

The three menaces to society indeed do get their clothes from Tigress, with Lucy Gray requesting for her and the kids specifically not to Capitol flashy attires without receiving a side eye from tigress unlike other designers. Janus specifically since a young age is absolutely mesmerized by his aunts creations so much that he starts an apprenticeship as a young adult. Each time Tigress is over it ends in taking the kids measurements for new incoming seasonal attires, they’ve grown more each time she sees them T^T

[hopepaigeturner]

An Offer From an Avid Reader: The Sofa Scene Part 2.

Posted as part of #benophie week 2023

Prompt: "You're much better off without me." "You're not the judge of that."

(Vibes rather than direct quote)

✨The Context✨

See Part 1 here.

Prior to this scene we have had Grandam Alexandra’s will scene. The start of this written here and overview written here. 

By the end of this scene, Anthony, Violet and Kate have agreed (not amicably or happily I must say)  that Benophie cannot be together. Benedict needs distance to forget this little love. The family cannot be ruined by this scandal. And so, a solution is found–Francesca. Sophie can become Francesca’s ladies maid, Francesca who is about to marry an Earl and move to Scotland. 

The scene ends with Anthony doing a “Are we in agreement” and Kate and Violet agreeing begrudgingly.

Now! Back to the happy couple…

✨The Scene✨

Scene cuts to the studio with Benophie enwrapped on the sofa. Benedict is awake and lovingly staring down at Sophie, a hand caressing her back as she presses close to him. He kisses her temple lightly and whispers,

“This is where I belong.”

The clock strikes the hour and Benedict knows Sophie needs to return, so he gently coaxes her awake even though she protests and snuggles even closer to him.

“Sophie, we need to get up, and we need to talk…”

Sophie finally opens her eyes and smiles up at him. Then the reality of the situation settles on her and she jerks away.

“Oh my Lord!” She clutches her discarded stays to her.

“Sophie, wait—”

“What have I done?” she cries.

“I think more accurate would be what have we done—”

“No, no, no—this was a mistake.”

“Sophie, take a breath—” Benedict reaches out to soothe her again but she hits his hands away.

“Get away! Just…” Sophie holds her hand out. Benedict nods and turns around. Sophie quickly dresses, muttering to herself. “Foolish, stupid girl…I cannot believe you would…”

“Sophie, we need to talk.”

“What is there to talk about!” she cries, buttoning up her dress, eyes to the ceiling to stop the tears from flowing.  “It is not as if there is some future to be had here. It is not as if we can stride into your brother’s study and he will be overjoyed that you befouled yourself with a maid!. And even if I were not a maid, no illegitimate child would be allowed even close to your ivory gates. The only way that would occur was if Araminta formally legitimised me, which I can assure you will never happen because Araminta would rather be six feet under than do such a thing—"

As she has been speaking, the viewer sees Benedict still on the sofa, his hands running over the cushion that Sophie’s head had occupied mere moments earlier.

“So, marry me.”

“What?”

Sophie swivels around. Benedict stands up and says again,

“Marry me.”

“Benedict you are—”

“Do you love me?”

Sophie struggles—but she cannot lie about her heart.

“Yes…yes I do.”

“And I love you. I loved you in a silver dress. I loved you in breeches and in a servant’s uniform. I do not care whether you are descended from a maid or the King of England himself. I love you, Sophie. And you were right, it was wrong of me to expect you to be my mistress, to treat you like a secret, like something that is a mere shadow of my true feelings. So do not be my mistress.” He gets down on one knee. “Become my wife, Sophie.”

Sophie stares.

“You are out of your mind.”

“I disagree. It is very simple. I love you and you love me.”

Sophie stares–then steps away.

“Simple? Simple!? Benedict, if I married you, we would be ostracised from society, forced to flee into the country.”

Benedict is obvisouly disappointed but not disheartened. He stands up.

“Good, I find the entire ton pointless and petty. I would rather have a quiet life with you than an empty one in public.”

“But your paintings! You have such talent Benedict, such wonderful talent that deserves to be honoured in galleries. That could never happen if you married me.”

“It would not happen without my muse either. And a lifetime of moments with you is worth infinitely more than a couple framed moments in a gallery.”

His sincerity is at once soul-gratifying and infuriating. Why does he not understand?

“If I married you, you would have to give up most of your luxuries. You would not have the generous allowance from your brother.”

“No. But I know that I will receive my grandmother’s ring, which, when sold along with other frivolous possessions of mine, would be enough to buy a small cottage in the country. You could work as a governess, or in the village.” Benedict smiles to himself, already picturing it. “ I could sell paintings or find a job.”

“A job?” Sophie scoffs. But Benedict does not laugh, instead his eyes are intent. He takes her hands and brings them to his heart, so she has no choice but to look into his eyes.

“If it meant I could wake up every day with you in my arms , then I would work until my hands were raw.” Sophie's breath hitches, then he smirks. “And, you must admit, I make quite a good, cooked breakfast.”

Sophie is scrmbbling, old taunts muddying the waters of her heart. For it is ridiculous. He could not want a life with her? Who would want a life with her? She needs something, anything, any little piece--

“And your family?”

For the first time, Benedict hesitates. Sophie latches onto it.

“You would willingly thrust your family into a scandal? Tarnish your sisters’ reputations?”

“Francesca is to be married to an Earl. Eloise would most probably appreciate a couple years without suitors and all whispers will have dissipated by the time Hyacinth debuts.

“You think your family will just welcome us with open arms—welcome me?”

“My family adore you.”

“They adore me as a maid. You truly think such sentiment will continue when I ensnare and run off with their favourite brother.”

“I am not their—”

“Yes, you are!” Sophei cries. “Your entire family adores you, Benedict, your entire family relies on you, cares for you, needs you.”

As she says the words her yearning tone increases. What she would not give to have grown up with Violet as a mother, or Eloise as a sister. What she would give up to experience such love.

“At some point I need to lead my own life…”

“They love you, Benedict. They love you, so very much.”

Benedict pulls her closer, holding her by the arms, voice gentle.

“And that love will mean that they will not ostracise us. It might take time, some more than others, but we would not be estranged.”

“You would risk that love? You would willingly give up that love? A love that is so rare, and so precious?”

“Sophie—”

“No. No. You are being delusional.”

“I am not delusional—”

“Ofcourse you are!” Sophie breaks away. “Or if not then you are being naïve and reckless with the privilege and love that has been handed to you on a silver platter—just like every other gentleman. I know what it is like to not have that love, Benedict.” The tears choke her voice. “And it is a fate I would never wish to inflict on anyone, let alone the man I love. No. I will not let you throw away such a special, wonderful love on someone like me.”

“You are worth it.”

“I am not.”

“Sophie, you do not dictate what or who I value and put worth into. I choose to value you, to love you—”

“You are being ridiculous! Love may have triumphed for your siblings, but their silks match, as do their cravats and pearls. Your siblings’ love is treasured in paintings and poems, looked on with envy but also admiration…But I wear cotton while you wear silk, and my neck is bare. Our love would be discarded in the dusty shadows and treated with disdain until it is disfigured. And we will be disfigured and miserable. No one would ever choose a love like that. No one should choose a love like that.”

Benedict steps towards her as he speaks,

“I would choose a love like that. I will choose a love like that. I am choosing a love like that. A love that is disdained by others but coveted by us. A love that burns too bright to ever submit to the shadows and a love so strong that it heals its wounds and rises after every fall.” He is so close that he can cup her face tenderly, the other hand on her waist. His eyes staring into her soul. “What you say is true, the world can be a cruel place, but I am willing to brave it with you, I am willing to brave it for you. Please.”

A couple beats of shared heartbeats—until Sophie whispers,

“I will not be the one who ruins you.”

She pushes away.

“But you love me and I love you. Why is that not enough?”

“It will never be enough…” Benedict staggers back. “And I will never risk ruining you nor the love you deserve.”

“You are the love I deserve. You are the only love I want.”

He tries to come close and capture her again. But Sophie steps out of reach—always just out of reach.

“I am not. I am just a dream that will one day disappear when you find the lady that is the love of your life.”

“You are—”

“Please. Please, stop.” She sobs. Benedict halts even though all he wants to do is take her in his arms, hold her and kiss her until she understands how much love he has for her, how reverently he holds her in his life.

But Benedict knows that Sophie is a woman of conviction. And since that day at the lake he has learnt the need to respect her even if it wrenches the heart apart. So, with great effort, he says,

“Very well…You have every right to make your own decision and I should respect that. So, goodbye…” his voice chokes and he struggles to swallow. He steps away, unable to look her in the eye. “Goodbye Sophie.”

“Goodbye, Benedict.”

With tears in her eyes Sophie walks to the door, but just as she opens it, Benedict says.

“But you must know, Sophie, that you are breaking my heart once more,” He finally looks up at her, tears running down his face, “and you are condemning me to spend the rest of my life wandering this earth with half a heart and half a soul.”

Sophie tries to hold his stare as her heart rips at the seams. For she wishes she could run into his arms and never let go. In her heart she longs for this man, dreams of a life with him, a life where she would be enough for him.

But such dreams are as fantastical as the stories she makes up. She can only believe in what she knows—that she will make him miserable. Just as she has made everyone miserable: her father, her stepmother, and her step siblings. So, she turns away and says,

“I assure you, Benedict. That fate is far better than the alternative.”

And she leaves.

She shuts the door and rests on it, hand on her stomach, hand over her mouth, tears spilling as she closes her eyes. But after a moment she takes a shaky breath, breaths deep and stands rigidly tall. And then leaves down the corridor.

The camera pans through to the other side of the door to find Benedict resting his forehead on the door.

Waiting, hoping.

But then he hears her footsteps leave and his eyes close in anguish. And he slides to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

*~*~*~*~*

Ah...you smell that? Sweet, sweet angst. 😉

I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests. So...

Check out the list here, for more of my ideas.

Check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.

[gemstarstarlight]

From the pews

Welcome, God.

I sit in church. Week by week, I endure. I listen, I understand; I try to understand the perspectives, the worldviews, of a people that are increasingly not like me.

I hear people say that God’s design is families, that God works in families. That single people exist, and God has provision for that, but the main story of the Bible is families. That ultimately God designs for us to be in families, and that means marriage and children.

I think of God working in a highly patriarchal society where a woman was truly safer married than single, where everyone came from a family (where blood family was very important but could also could mean member of a household, a servant of a family or a second cousin of a patriarch or any number of things that were bigger than just the initial top family unit), where divorce would be worse for everyone involved and the woman was immediately vulnerable, where being a widow was a terrible fate for women because they couldn’t provide for themselves, and many of the passages on singleness in the Bible are in the New Testament where it was a bit more safe and normal for people to be single and devoted to God.

I think of Adam and Eve, childless before the Fall.

I think of the pages in the Bible God put in about slavery, where slavery was a practice in the Bible, but in God’s initial design for Israel (that Israel frequently failed in) it was temporary, treated like an indentured servant, and it was only for specific circumstances and not to be born into. I think of how slaves were given rights, rights that weren’t seen in any other culture at the time. I think of the more broad and more easy-to-interpret-as-bad ideas about slavery (that slaveowners in America absolutely took advantage of without realizing that slavery outlined in Leviticus wasn’t racially motivated or permanent or assumed subhumanity) were actually in the New Testament, in a culture that was Greco-Roman, distinctly not Israelite or following the laws outlined in the Torah, and there was little slaves could do to not be in their position. I think about how God actually called the Israelites out of slavery in Exodus, which speaks much more loudly about his opinion on slavery than anything else.

I think of God, working in cultures regardless of what they value most and what they consider normal, understanding we have preconceptions about how the world works and putting in structures and ideas so we can follow him even in an “imperfect” society with ideas we haven’t even thought to question yet.

I think of God putting revelation knowledge in our church fathers, encouraging us to follow the Bible the best way we can. I think of how many of them were single. I think of the monasteries and abbeys, men and women living in communities of singleness with each other, leading other communities to Jesus. I think about how until the Protestant Reformation, the pendulum had swung so far in the other direction that people who wanted to serve God weren’t allowed to marry, even though Peter, considered the first church father, had a wife. I think how even in Peter’s case, we only know about him being married because Jesus healed his mother-in-law, and that much more emphasis was put on his devotion to God.

I come home. I drink tea, alone in my house. I stare at the pride pin on my backpack. The mark of the single, the mark of the childless, the mark of the person who will almost certainly be unable to give her body to a husband. The orange and white and blue of those without attraction, but not without love.

I think of the sacrifice and sacrament of marriage, the intention being a mutual serving, of loving as Christ loved the church and gave his life for her, of submitting as to the Lord and not to men, of choosing to trust even if you don’t know or understand yet.

I think of the people who have loved me unconditionally. I think of the people who have encouraged me to submit my life to God, even if I don’t understand why yet and fear for the future. I think of those who have held me as I weep for the future I have lost, but tell me to trust God and that he has a place for me no matter what.

I think of the people I love and who I can care for. I think about the people I speak for, who I speak to and why.

And I wonder.

If I have devoted my life to God and gotten a sea of people who love me and who I can love in return, is that not a family?

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭68‬:‭5‬-‭6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

[interwcven]

[ india amarteidio, she/her, cis woman ] — was that DINAH NIGHTINGALE? the TWENTY THREE year old is a LADY, how exciting to see them this season! rumors have it they are WITTY and AMBITIOUS, but i’ve heard they are CYNICAL and REACTIVE as well — maybe that’s why they’ve been called the SPITFIRE. I have even heard that SHE WAS BORN AS THE RESULT OF AN AFFAIR BETWEEN HER MOTHER AND THEIR SERVANT —only time will tell.

name: dinah ( samirah - her ghanian name ) nightingale title: lady nightingale age: twenty-three birthday: march 29 sign: aries sexuality: bisexual languages known: english , french & german

BACKGROUND

dinah's mother , afryea nightingale , was born in ghana , where she came from a moderately wealthy family who grew rich off being merchants. they were world travelers who traveled & traded for a living. her mother , who was never far behind her father on his adventures , grew to love exploring new communities.

when she was 17 , she met dinah's father in france , laurence nightingale. he too was visiting the country , as he was from england. he came from extremely new money , a formerly low-class family who had earned their wealth unconventionally through a series of lucky streaks of gambling.

the two fell for each other headfirst and on impulse , days before she was meant to leave he proposed and asked her to return to england with him. however , the major secret between them was that already gotten pregnant during her time in france , therefore the wedding was extremely rushed as to avoid scandal.

they ended up having six kids , of which dinah is the youngest. things were good until her mother grew bitter with her life. she had always dreamed of adventure and hadn't had much intention to marry , but had acted impulsively out of love. her husband had very traditional views of marriage and didn't allow her to join his travels like he promised. this eventually led to her resentment of her own kids , feeling like her role as a wife and mother got in the way of her happiness.

dinah's birth served as the essential death of her parent's love. by the time she was born , her father had had countless affairs and put his gambling tendencies over his family. her mother had fallen for one of her male servants , and the two secretly had an affair , leading to the birth of dinah. while there were whispers amongst the staff about dinah's legitimacy , it's always been met with hostility by her mother.

dinah's always had her own suspicions , though she's never been told the truth. but she sees how differently her parents treat her , and how those closest to them seem to narrow their eyes just a little more at her. but most of all , she can't shake the sadness in the eyes of the servant who curiously looks so similar to her.

outside of her parent's , though , dinah's been grateful to afford a relatively free life. she inherited the adenterous spirit of her mom , and even though she hasn't traveled much , she grew a love for reading and language learning as they allowed her to mentally go someplace else.

she hadn't expected her parent's pressure to debut in society , by being the youngest of many other siblings. however , her father made a harsh comment to her , stating " she couldn't live off his money forever " , it made her feel horrible , but rumors have said it's because her family's entering fiancnail ruin due to her father's gambling addiction. so , she's taking this year more seriously as a real chance for her to be less reliant on her own family's wealth.

PERSONALITY

outspoken , opinionated , and unafraid to take up space , just like her mother. it's something that's always been celebrated within her family , though the same can't be said for those outside it. as the youngest , she is a bit spoiled , so hasn't ever really been told no ? therefore , she doesn't have much of a filter , and it's been a recurring challenge she's had to deal with ever since entering society.

spoiled , but not snobby. she's the youngest and therefore is often being doted on , but both her parents come from relatively new money and who's families were both hard workers. she doesn't scare away from spending , but less bc she has to and more bc she believes it's a privilege her family has earned ! but she's not yet in a place to feel her family is fully comfortable in nobility , so doesn't quite feel as ingrained in that part of society as others may.

a little artist ! she loves all things creative , and spends a lot of her free time painting or wandering around art galleries. but her favorite medium is just doodling in her free time. it's not odd to catch her hiding away from others in the grass , drawing people faraway as she people watches !! if it's someone she knows sometimes she'll slip the drawing under their door without saying it's her , totally not a way to creep people out dinah !!

a huge learner. not the athletic type , would much rather spend her time inside with her nose in a new book. she mostly enjoys foreign language or exciting adventure books. secret lover of romance books , but she's sure to keep those books buried underneath her pillowcase.

on that note , she's a bit cynical about love. it's not that she doesn't believe in it , but every example of it in her life has taught her it's bound to fail. she's a natural hopeless romantic who use to fantasize about love , but time has made her grow cold to the idea. she feels love exists , but isn't enough.

so as she looks for her future partner , she is seeing marriage as more contractual and less magical. more than anything , she wants someone who grants her freedom , who allows her to explore her passions and learn more as she always has. but there's a sliver of hope somewhere inside her that hopes that love can be found somewhere in the equation , though her expectations are low.

her mom always has those faraway eyes and smiles so much when she speaks of finding love , but it confuses dinah bc it's not what she's seen ? her siblings saw her parents in love but ever since she's been around , there hasn't been much of it for her to understand her mom's fixation on it ?

despite her pessimism , she does adore being in society now. with her friends , she's a known gossip , and she loves finally feeling in the mix of all that happens around the most vibrant time of the year. even if love isn't in the cards for her , she's had plenty of fun getting to flirt with pretty girls and guys of the ton !

and while i say she's flirty , she's a very "blink and you'll miss it" flirt. she's not into cliches , she sees right through it so it makes things boring for her. she likes being kept on her toes , and therefore enjoys those who challenge her the most ! the very typical swooning style will make her roll her eyes HAHA

also incredibly competitive , which definitely contributes to her fun during the social season ! she's not there to find love but she is there to win , so even if it's not her type of game she'll play it to beat everyone else !! will literally turn walking to the bathroom to the race to the top if she has to LMAO

i would say she's extroverted , but easily exhausted from pleasantries and polite society. she could spend the entire night out w no problem , but if that night involves having to lie and shmooze uppity adults , she's gonna find away to sneak out when no one's looking !!

WANTED CONNECTION

pleeeease give her friends to spill the tea with (metaphorically LMAO ) !! someone who she can run over to during parties and be like do you see what i'm seeing ?? she's such a gossip and it's only natural she'd attract friends who are like her !

maybe a long-term crush ? someone she took a liking to before she got to her no-love-for-me phase , but could never really shake her crush off ?? bonus points if they were childhood friends for all the teasing and embarrassing stories that could ensue !

on that note , platonic childhood friends ! could also be working class , i could totally see her sneaking off to play w the kids of the town ! the nightingales are fair to their staff , as i said they're not very snobby , so i could definitely also see them allowing their children to play w dinah and the rest of their kids !

siblings ?? this is a more formal wc but an older sibling who feels bitter towards her mother's differing treatment of her vs them would be v interesting ! i could see this being either a really cute positive or a really messy negative connection , i'd love either !

enemies ?? she's so competitive though this could've originated from the most stupid , petty reasons ever. but whatever the cause she can't stand the sight of them and she's not afraid to say it !

a more recent love interest she's found after entering society ? this would be much newer and probably more push-pull , since she's actively rejecting being vulnerable to love atm. it could be fun slow burn though so i'd definitely be interested !

someone who either likes art or helps her w her doodles ! she's not a formal artist by any means , but it'd be great to have someone she could paint with or who'd pose for her to draw !

chaos buddies !! she's been trying to be on her best behavior as per her family's wishes , but i'd love to see someone who knows exactly what to say to get the chaos in her to return ! downing her family's wine collection , giggling about other members of the ton , sneaking out to go on late night adventures , all of it !!

this is by no means an exhaustive list though , just a way to get the ideas flowing ! pls know i love braintorming as well and if none of this works i'd love to just talk about our muses together and see what fits !

[marieadeledracherambles]

In Defense of Platonic and Familial Love: The Webnovel

TW for child abuse

I like webcomics and webtoons. Within the scope of Korean webtoons, I especially love historical fantasy. The dresses! The characters! The backgrounds (whether they be gorgeous paintings or the same castle over and over again)! I especially like webtoons that involve heroines going from a family who hates them to a family who loves them, and the emotional healing and fluf--wait, we're at the romance already?

I have absolutely nothing against romance! My favorite #1 rec of all time, Another Typical Fantasy Romance by Wolhet, revolves around the romance between the main leads! However, often I find that webtoons of the stripe I love establish the adoption and the beginning of the arc, and then they skip a few years to get to the romance. It gets a little grating to have the thing I came for swapped out so abruptly and often. Especially since I, unlike a lot of society, don't believe that a romantic, sexual, monogamous relationship is the only path ever to happiness.

I was feeling especially spiteful about this one day, so I started writing my own webnovel where the main conceit is that this will not be the case.

From Lion's Den to Dragon's Nest follows Irenis Casmenoc, a sweet and curious little girl whose only crime was being born out of wedlock to Triolun Casmenoc, of the Casmenoc margravial family, and a maid, Esyn. Unfortunately, having a bastard daughter is very improper, but they can't punish Triolun for it! He's a nobleman! And Esyn died when Irenis was two. So all the blame lands on Irenis's head. She's treated worse than a servant; at least servants are allowed to see important guests and go out into the village on errands.

One would think that she could make allies in the household, but the maids and manservants are Not Allowed to be kind to Irenis. They must be loyal to the household, not to shames. People have tried to be kind to her, but they got fired as soon as they were discovered. The only person who's important enough to not get fired on the spot is their battlemaster (sword trainer), Calon of Druig. He steps up and becomes a surrogate grandfather to Irenis, seeing as her blood grandfather the margrave has only encouraged her mistreatment. As Calon thinks, someone has to be the only decent adult in this castle, and he has the power to do so. He trains Irenis in swordplay and aura control after hours, since her cousins push her off the field and beat her if she tries to join them.

The Casmenoc family tree is as such: the current margrave is Sethion and his wife Telin, and his older brother Kenson and his wife Bealead. (The Casmenocs have long been rotten, and one of the symptoms is passing over Kenson just for being impotent. He and Sethion are otherwise equal in matters of governance.) They're in their late sixties and early seventies. Then Sethion and Telin's four kids form the parent generation, in their forties. Triolun is the youngest son of Sethion. Their kids form Irenis's generation, varying from almost-adult knight-wannabe Aulan down to Irenis, who's twelve when the plot really kicks off.

Irenis's situation comes to a head when she becomes a sword master (a staple of fantasy action webtoons. Sort of a magic knight). The Casmenocs, instead of being proud of the once-in-a-lifetime genius under their roof, are furious at her for trying to outdo Aulan and throw her out. Actually, what they do is crueler than throwing her out: they send her off to the eastern mountains, where monsters boil out of the volcanoes and the margravate in charge of beating them back is only slightly less monstrous.

And to add insult to injury, it's Irenis's birthday.

She's sent off with a contingent of Casmenoc knights, one of whom is incredibly irritating and crude and one of whom takes steps to protect Irenis from the worst of his chatter. Sir Gurstel is a nuisance all the way through the journey, ensuring the stability of the status quo, and Sir Jacryn pushes back hard against the status quo by befriending Irenis and sticking by her side.

Then they get to the Verith stronghold and everything gets shaken up. For one thing, the Veriths are no monsters. Their margrave, a foreigner from the other side of the mountains, is no monster. He's just A Dude. The children under their care, squires and trainees, are well-fed and cared for. The margravine, when she returns from a trip, is improper enough to wear pants and a demon to fight, but she holds herself back to train with mere humans.

And the status quo keeps getting upset. Everyone is kind to Irenis. Gurstel and his enabler squad get tossed out inside of the week, and Jacryn is the only Casmenoc knight who stays on. Irenis gets all the food she wants and pretty dresses and books to devour and a kitty doll.

And we're just getting started.

FLDTDN is planned to be four seasons of sixty chapters each, and there will be very few timeskips. There might? Be romance later? But this novel was started to fulfill my cravings for a story full of platonic and familial love, so it'll take a backseat to the plot if it ever does happen.

[luulapants]

The real Stede and Blackbeard weren’t that bad, actually

The only responses I’ve seen to the Hamilton 2.0 discourse on Our Flag Means Death have been ahistorical attempts to say the easiest socially placating response: “No, of course REAL pirates were all bad and implicated in the slave trade and REAL Stede was a bad, evil slave owner and they’re all in Hell now.”

This misses all nuance in discussions of how capitalism drove the slave trade, agency in mental illness, and the sad fact that people rarely have as many choices as we like to think they do. So, using bits of an earlier post of mine, here’s the real deal, which isn’t so neat and tidy:

1) Stede was a slave owner

This is true. His great-grandfather was one of the original colonizers of Barbados and his family had one of the most profitable plantations on the island. However, Stede's parents both died when he was 6, after which he was raised primarily by household servants and slaves. Guardians and other members of high society groomed him to be the perfect gentleman, arranged his marriage, and basically decided his entire life for him.

An important element in his story is that he was seriously mentally ill for most or all of his life. Terms like “emotionally fragile” pepper all accounts of his life. It’s hard to know exactly what mental illness he had. We know that he suffered from severe bouts of depression, was prone to impulsive and dangerous decisions, and all accounts show him as being people-pleasing, easy to manipulate, and unusually willing to do as he was told. This is not to say he didn’t benefit from slavery, but that his illness did not give him the agency to do something as radical as freeing the enslaved people on his estate.

What’s incredible, then, is this: he walked away from it all.

He did not free his slaves. That would have been legally complex in Barbados at that time, if not impossible, and would have left his wife and children destitute. However, he did stop participating in slave society. He left all of his wealth to go on an anticapitalist crusade. After he became a pirate, Stede was placed under the care of Blackbeard, who was kind to him and ran his ship when it became clear he was not mentally fit to do so.

2) All pirates were horrible monsters

There were basically three types of pirates in the Golden Age of Piracy:

Early Golden Age pirates, like Benjamin Hornigold and Henry Jennings, thought of themselves as legitimate privateers and were politically motivated Jacobites who opposed the Protestant overthrow of England. They only attacked ships who flew flags of “enemy” nations and followed a gentleman’s code of conduct. They treated captives graciously and, if they didn’t need to steal it, allowed the crew to return to their ship after looting.

Anticapitalist pirates, like Black Sam Bellamy and Blackbeard, were in active rebellion against European colonial control in the Caribbean and sought to frustrate their claims by attacking the trade networks that enriched them. They relied on psychological theatrics during attacks which, more often than not, caused their targets to surrender without a single shot fired. Blackbeard sought to destroy as many merchant vessels as possible, burning ships and toppling masts. He always left their crews somewhere safe. Though he gained a gruesome reputation, he is not known to have ever killed a person.

Anarchist pirates, like Charles Vane and Calico Jack Rackham, wanted to create chaos. They were terrorists, attacking civilian vessels and torturing the passengers to punish England for the Act of Grace, which threatened to civilize the Caribbean out from under them. Their targets rarely had loot worth taking, but their goal was not loot. It was fear and blood. They were likely disaffected sailors who had been forced into service on navy or merchant vessels, where crews were abused, rarely paid, and lived in conditions so horrid that they had similar mortality rates to slaves during transport from Africa to the Americas. They were monsters created by the horrors of capitalism.

3) Pirates were implicit in the slave trade

I want to be clear: all piracy was fundamentally harmful to the slave trade and the capitalist machine that drove it. Piracy made slave trading more difficult.

The story of the Golden Age of Piracy is not one of Black liberation or antiracism. It is a story of anticapitalism. Their cause could have dealt a devastating blow to the European slave trade and, as a consequence, could have had real, practical benefits for Black people in that era. The slave trade was justified by racism but it was not caused by racism. It was caused by capitalism. By greed. By the realization that the continued commodification of the human body, which the wealthy had practiced for hundreds of years on their own subjects and neighboring populations, could be expanded and exercised with impunity if it were done to people seen as outsiders from European society.

I'll give an example of a slave vessel Blackbeard captured with Stede: there were nearly five hundred captives aboard. Pirate ships could only sustain so many people, so captains had to choose crew for skill and their ability to work with the existing crew. The majority of the enslaved people on that vessel did not share a language with their crew and didn’t understand western customs. They kept sixty-one of the slaves as laborers, but nearly 400 were released back to the captain of the slave vessel.

It's easy to criticize this move, to say they should have freed those people. But to where? Abandon them on an island somewhere? They had no place to put that many people while they sailed around, looking for somewhere they could live. Besides, a few did escape and were later recaptured by the original captain because they were branded with his mark. Of those they took with them, a few later left voluntarily with a small amount of gold dust as payment. They were soon captured, robbed, and sold into slavery.

So, no, Stede and Blackbeard and other pirates didn't have perfect records on slavery, but how could they? And the crusade they did take up, attacking the European economies, was probably a better service to enslaved people than they could have managed by trying to free them directly.

[toodreampost-blog1]

I’ve been wanting to express this for a while, but this is the only time I’ve felt up to saying it: attacking people’s favorite characters from House of the Dragon because their morals or actions don’t align with societal ideals in current society is forced and corny.

I honestly feel like a large part of this is the result of the tribalism that was created by the team black or team green fractions in the fandom. People picking teams is a natural aspect of the show, as the entire show is predicated on the idea of the two teams battling each other, but people will use the bad actions of a show character to shame the people who like them.

I’ve seen this mostly with Alicent, Aegon, and Aemond. People call Alicent a pick-me or misogynistic for adhering to the standards of her time. Shaming ‘Aegon enjoyers’ to the point that some of them had to come out as SA survivors because people were calling them r*pe apologists for finding Aegon a funny and/or complex character. People somehow manage to call Aemond a racist because he “punched little black girls and stole their mother’s dragon” as if either of those things is applicable to the ASOIAF universe.

This should go without saying, but liking characters shouldn’t warrant people having their morals questioned or even being bullied for it. Expecting Alicent to be a feminist in a society that’s inspired by medieval Europe is ridiculous and calling people who like her misogynistic is equally ridiculous. The same people openly fawning over Daemon attempting to drag people for liking Aegon’s character is not only stupid but also hypocritical. Calling his fans r*pe apologists just to turn around and stan a character that has been confirmed to be a groomer and predator by Emma D’Archy and the showrunners is laughably forced on a lot of y’all parts.

And that I’m bringing up Daemon, sense team blacks are apparently so much more morally upright than team greens. Let’s run through some of them.

Viserys: gutted his first wife for a son. Took a child bride and used her as a birthing cow and a dumping ground for his fears and insecurities. Neglected her and her children. Was such a coward he never officially changed the laws of succession that would allow Rhaenyra to have an easier claim as queen.

Daemon: tortured innocent smallfolk. Groomed his niece. Murdered his first wife. Neglected one of his daughters because she didn’t have a fucking dragon. Ignored his second wife and her pleas to return to her family to give birth. Had sex with said niece at his dead wife’s funeral. Killed another innocent servant. Forced his daughters to be witnesses at his secret wedding a day after their own mother’s funeral. Killed Vemond in cold blood for telling the truth about two white boys stealing both his and Baela’s claim to THEIR birthright. Keep in mind, this is the same fraction of the fanbase that claims to hate Aemond for what he did to two little black girls, but yet still like a man after murdering a black man and stealing a black family’s throne in cold blood (and that’s because most of you don’t actually care about how black people are treated in the show, y’all just use their blackness for your own convenience). Oh not to mention he choked Rhaenyra out because she said something he didn’t like.

Oh, and Rhaenys killed hundreds of innocent smallfolk because she was angwyyy over Aegon being proclaimed king.

I could go on, but I feel like this is enough.

I truly do not understand it. A lot of the fans of HotD also like game of thrones. These fans will proudly call characters like Jaime and Cersei Lannister, Theron Greyjoy, Tyrion, and Tywin their favorites while scoffing at people who like Aemond because he *checks notes* accidentally (albeit stupidly) killed Luke at Storm’s Eye? WRAP. IT. UP.

I think it’s groupthink. In the game of thrones fandom, it was considered a norm to like villains or characters that do bad things, but the HotD fandom has this odd morality complex where you can’t support this character or this team because “they’re the bad guys”.

At the end of the day, this fandom should be a place of character analysis and *playful* in-fighting. Not degrading, bullying, and even doxxing others over a fictional dragon show. Team blacks will never have the moral high ground over team greens and vice versa. Can we just have fun? Thanks.

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[ambafaerie]

A Tsumiki Zenin AU would be so interesting. A what if story where she was Toji’s first born daughter before he left the clan.

Plot Summary Ideas

Tsumiki was born with cursed energy but still treated like any other woman in the clan. That is until the clan elders find out she possesses the coveted reverse cursed technique on her sixth birthday. Now the girl is treated like a golden goose who is put on a strict schedule and heavily monitored with little to no visits allowed outside the clan estate.

Tsumiki’s mother is a mystery. She was protective of her daughter and taught her everything she needed to know from the constellations and cursed spirits to dealing with certain types of people. But one time Tsumiki catches a glimpse of her mother talking to someone with pale stitch marks around their forehead. Her mother disappeared without a trace before she turned six but Tsumiki holds out hope she will meet her mom again someday.

Maki and Mai were close to Tsumiki until the elders separated them because it wasn’t good to have one of their prized members associating with servants. Tsumiki was even Mai’s first love because the girl treats her kindly and always looked out for her just like her older twin sister. Tsumiki wasn’t happy with the forced separation and did all she could to find time to spend with the twins.

When they grew up to attend Jujutsu Tech, Tsumiki pleaded with Naobito to be allowed to accompany Mai to Kyoto so she wouldn’t have to be alone on strict conditions.

Then there is Naoya who takes out all of his resentment on Toji leaving on his daughter. He finds ways to bully Tsumiki and remind the younger girl that her only worth lies with her reverse cursed technique. Though this hatred is mixed with attraction as Naoya deems Tsumiki to be a suitable wife candidate in his eyes which disgusts everyone outside the clan who knows about it.

Jinichi on the other hand is almost like a father figure to his niece. He pats her head and is rumored to have punched Naoya when he made one too many salacious remarks. But he distances himself from the daughter of his outcast brother in public.

The relationship between Megumi and Tsumiki would be different. Megumi would still be taken in by Gojo who is kind enough to arrange for the siblings to meet and while Tsumiki is eager to be a big sister to her younger half brother. A small part of her envies Megumi for having the normal childhood she dreamed of before he was brought into Jujutsu society. Tsumiki may have no memory of Toji and therefore holds no affection for the man who abandoned her. It still hurts for her to think that she could have only been an unwanted obligation to fulfill by her own father unlike Megumi who was considered a blessing by both his parents.

[yandere-sins]

Can I see bondage and blood (4 and 6) for the bratty goat man that is Lucio. I just got into the arcana and I’m loosing my mind over this brat. I love it.

Hahahaha, welcome to the fandom! Thanks for requesting the goat man lol Enjoy ^^

Bondage - “Darling your such a tease. I’ll give you a taste of what it’s like playing with fire.” 

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

There were so many red flags when you received the invitation to the Palace. All these rumors about a sickness spreading through the streets of Vesuvia, yet, the count still requested the likes of you to attend to him and keep him company while people began drawing back and isolate. Sure, tending to anyone who demanded your service was your daily bread, but you’d rather stayed at your home as well.

But he was a paying customer and not a first-timer either. Also, as the count, he was paying very, very well. Once these ‘sickness’ wore down, it would be good money in your hand to have, especially if you wanted nothing more than to leave this place.

That wasn’t all, of course. Every visit you spend at his side was filled with lavish meals and grand festivities. You felt less than an escort and more than an actual member of the high society when you were with him. But all the presents and clothes he gave to you were starting to drown you in guilt and fear that one day, this was something to hold over your head if you weren’t careful.

So, why did you go back?

Biting your cheek, you wondered about your reasons as you put on yet another wonderful, soft and endearing garment that he had prepared for you. Lucio hadn’t even arrived yet, but you knew by his choices that he grew bolder every time. You had told him right at the start, from be very beginning, that you weren’t interested in more than staying by his side and looking nice. That other services weren’t your occupation, and even less were you interested in something personal.

Yet, your hands began to sweat nervously as Lucio got announced, servants rushing to open the door for him, and your bad feeling intensified.

“[Name]!” he called out joyfully, arms open wide to pull you into a hug, entering the room without even a moment of hesitation. Lucio wasn’t a typical noble. Everyone talked about him behind his back of how unfit he was in his position. To greet you first and so casually - in front of servants no less - kind of confirmed that. No one would tell him off, strangely enough, giving him the respect to do as he pleased. Perhaps that was the influence of his wife, but you weren’t unhappy that he wasn’t spitting in your face or belittling you like the others would once they were done with you.

“Count,” you greeted him briefly, bowing your head to him with a small smile you could muster. No second later, you were virtually overrun by him, finding yourself dipped down and in his arms in the blink of an eye. “Finally some good company,” he smirked, reaching for your hand to kiss it. Charm, he had, even if this was one of the few good points you could name about him.

It was a rather typical meeting, minus the grand balls he liked to throw for his ‘friends’. Just you too, a table between you that was smaller than the one he usually filled with food. The menu was just as delicious, even though you two had it in silence, Lucio never losing the smile on his face. He usually was much more talkative, so you let him talk, but today, even if you spoke up, he wouldn’t react with his great stories and even greater enthusiasm. Maybe, it was just a calm day for him. Maybe he was just exhausted.

The time couldn’t run out faster, your eyes occasionally flitting to the small clock on top of the fireplace. Yet, every time you’d be disappointed with how much time was still left. You had been served tea, the servants leaving you alone as soon as the biscuits were placed down on the coffee table in front of you. Only when the door fell into its lock did Lucio finally sigh deeply, as if he was bothered by a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“I thought about it,” he finally spoke up, his words more serious than you had heard from him ever. This voice, paired with his words, rose another flinch of nervosity in you, and you sipped at your cup filled with warmth to hide your anxiety. Lucio walked back over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch and taking an inelegant sip of his own cup. “I want you to stay here.”

Immediately, the tea you just drank left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue, and you backed away noticeable. “My Count, I told you in the very beginning I don’t stay the night--”

“No, no!” he quickly waved off, shaking his head before taking a deep breath and reaching for your hands. You wanted to pull away, but at the same time, you feared upsetting such an important figure in this society by behaving rudely. “I meant forever.”

“Forever...?” you muttered, feeling your expression crunch up in confusion. “My Lord, I don’t think that would be appropriated--”

You really couldn’t see yourself, an escort, stay by his side.

“Not yet, but...” his voice trailed off as you thought to see hints of red grace his cheeks. “I will make you Count Consort. I mean it! You’ll have all the rights that even the Countess has, and you’ll be allowed to stay here.”

His offer sounded sincere at least, his expression giving off the impression that - even if it was foolish - he meant it. It took you a lot of strength not to gasp in his face about what he said, the mere idea of you becoming such a high-ranking member of nobility scaring and appalling you. Maybe this was a dream coming true for many people, but not for you. Not for someone like you who wanted to leave this city for a new start, and especially the Count who was starting to do what you always feared he would: Monopolize you.

“I cannot,” you said firmly, feigning regret in your voice before pulling your hands from his. “Why?” he asked, inching closer, your legs touching while he kept snapping for your hands. “I... I just can’t.”

“That’s not a reason. You can. Just say yes and stay with me.”

Finally, he managed to get a hold of your wrists, squeezing them tightly in his fingers. The golden prothesis always had scared you a little when he touched you with it. It was cold, and not rarely he put on claws on top of his fingertips that seemed more than just dull accessories. You were glad it wasn’t the case this time, yet the sheer strength he managed to bring up with it was only made more painful by the metal.

“No!” you gasped, finally letting your feeling of fear and disgust showing on your face. It was in the gist of the moment, Lucio witnessing your rejection, that he loosened the strength on his grip so you could tear your arm away. You didn’t mean to cross his cheek with your palm. You really didn’t! But when you realized the slapping sound echoing through the room, it was already too late, and you had jumped up, staring at what you did in horror.

The next moment, you ran to the door, slamming into the wood as it wouldn’t budge when you wanted to open it.

You always believed that he was different, but perhaps, you should have heeded the warnings. He treated you nicely, but in the end, when the other escorts told you that he had little patience, yet mighty demands of his partners, you should have heeded their advice to not go agree again and again to visit him. They told you about what he took pleasure in; the colosseum, the wars, bloodshed, and people worshipping him. It should have been enough for you to not return. To see that he was no good man, even if he treated you right.

“Darling you’re such a tease,” you heard behind you, and no second passed that another body pressed up to you, locking you between the door and Lucio. “You want me to fight for you? Beg you? Run after you? If that’s what you want, sure, I don’t mind.”

Exasperated, you turned around, not wanting to leave your back so exposed to him, only to find yourself staring right at a golden key he held in front of you. Hesitant, you glanced at him, his eyes now clearly duller compared to before, where he looked at you as the object of his affection, but the smile playing on his lips was anything but sincere. The mismatch of expression scared you, but you quickly snatched the key from him, fiddling with the door a little until you heard the lock open. Pressed up so close to it, it was no surprise you lost your footing, tumbling to the ground as it finally gave away. In the hallway usually filled with hustling and bustling of servants and guards, dead silence and darkness were all that awaited you.

You faintly remembered the layout as you stumbled to your feet, giving a short glance over your shoulder as you saw Lucio step out of the room as well, his hand leisurely coming up to usher you forwards. “Run, my Beloved. It’s only fair if you have a chance to escape. You always told me how you wanted to escape your life, so here I thought we were under the same impression, but in the end, you’re going to hate me as well, don’t you?”

His words were so sad, yet, their meaning scarier than anything to you. You never realized... that he thought this way. That up till now, he had been looking out for you after all. “But it doesn’t matter if you hate me,” he added, shoulders slumping as he looked at you pitifully. “Everyone does, but that means they let me do what I want. And I want to be with you. Deep down, you know I can make your wish come true. Otherwise, why would you have always come back to me?”

Now, you weren’t waiting anymore. As quickly as you could, with the fabric of the garment rushing by you as you ran, you made your way to what you thought was the exit. There was something mad about the way he uttered these last sentences, and you didn’t want to find out. Not when you heard his steps follow after you.

“That’s a dead-end,” he called behind you as you dipped into a sidearm of the hallway. “Don’t make it easy for me to catch you, Sweetheart.”

But it was already too late; you had to move forward. You’d slip into a room there and jump out of the window if it turned out that there wasn’t any way left to go. But the further in you got, the fewer doors you saw until they only sparsely appeared around you. Every time you thought, “One more, the next I will enter and escape,” but then they stopped appearing completely, and you ran right into a portrait of your suitor at the end of the hallway.

“You went easy on me?” you heard behind you. “You’re such an adorable rabbit. You could have just told me that you wanted me to court you some more! But don’t you worry.”

Eventually, Lucio caught up to you while you pressed up to the wall in your back, eyeing for a chance to escape him. Until it was too late, his face so close to you, you felt his breath against your lips and a cold, uncomfortable grip around your chin. “Hate me all you want, but I finally realize this is what you want too. You got me really riled up now, [Name]. We can play all night long if you want.”

You wanted to say something, do something, slap him again! But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even move a finger, or take a breath, captivated by the glowing silver of his eyes, shining even in the dark. “I’ll give you a taste of what it’s like playing with fire,” he whispered before you felt his lips close in on yours.

“Because that’s what you did to me too and now it’s your turn to get burned.”

[picwew]

SQUAD UP! It’s time for Yuna and his crew of miscreant demons!

(Picrews are here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here!)

The characters are, top to bottom, left to right--

Nakajima, Yuna: A human with unusually high magical potential. His specialty is the binding of demons into servitude, which he utilizes to stop particularly troublesome demons from threatening human populations across the globe. Most of the demons under his care were seduced by him, as he has quite a knack for making men want him. As such, several of his servants are vying for his favor, but, in his own words, “I don’t play favorites~”

Obviously, Yuna is a bit of a flirt. His tastes extend well beyond demons, into just about any non-human he can get his hands on. He has a ravenous appetite for handsome men, but no plans to settle down any time soon. It isn’t that romance doesn’t appeal to him, more that he’s still young and a little too free-spirited for anything permanent. The way he dotes on his servants, though, you’d certainly think he was in love with them, Nihil in particular.

Mourning Dove: Affectionately referred to by his coworkers as “Dovey”, this little fellow was the first of Yuna’s servants, and is therefore his most staunch defender. The details of his past are hazy, even in his own mind, but he was born into the slave trade, nameless, nothing, the psychological toll of which would not become apparent until his eventual escape. He was full of hatred for the humans who had callously treated him as property, and claimed many lives before Yuna was able to soothe his aching heart. “You’re pretty as a mourning dove,” Yuna told him. From that moment on, he decided that this would be his name.

Dovey is, above all, an empath. Much of his time recovering from a life of slavery was spent learning to feel again. Once he got the hang of it, however, he found that he felt a little too much, so much so that he’s become somewhat of a crybaby. When others are in pain, he is often the one to comfort them. His sweet disposition and cute appearance have earned him his coworkers’ love, although they still get a bit miffed with him whenever he tries to hog Yuna’s attention.

Dr. Callaway: An interesting case, and a tough nut to crack. Only Yuna knows his full name; no one knows his story. All he’s shared is that he was fingered for human experimentation, and that, no, he has neither learned his lesson nor wishes to. Still, he behaves himself well enough, perhaps because he is entirely obsessed with Yuna in the most unhealthy way. While most of his coworkers consider one another family, Dr. Callaway is detached and often mocking of their sentimentality.

As expected, Dr. Callaway is a terrible sadist. He takes great pleasure in hurting others in any way he can. Nowadays, this is limited almost entirely to insults and threats, but he has been known to get physical with others when Yuna isn’t looking. It doesn’t help that nothing seems to bother him in return. You could beat the man senseless, and he’d come out of it grinning like a jackal.

Corvo: This one was a misunderstanding--or, rather, a case of cultures clashing in a very gruesome manner. Corvo is a hybrid of demon and crowkin. Beastkin are not true demons, but are often lumped in with them, so mixed-race families are not uncommon. Unfortunately, this can lead to some problematic offspring, particularly when one or both of the parents are detached from human society. Corvo, like many crowkin, was taught that food is food, and that human meat is the most delicious of all. He bore no ill will toward humans, but his view of them as, essentially, cattle culminated in a visit from Yuna.

Following his binding, Corvo began the lengthy process of finding something he liked more than human flesh. This, as it turned out, was sweets--all sweets, from pastries, to ice cream, to candy. He had never had sweets before, and everyone agreed that they suited his bubbly, affectionate personality more than human flesh anyway. He is certainly the gentlest of all of Yuna’s servants, dedicated to his family and to protecting those in need. He’s especially fond of cats.

Erebus: Known by those who worship him as the Master of Crows, Erebus is an ill-understood being. He is ancient, but has had little to do with his own kind since time out of mind. Instead, he appears to have become so entwined with his worshipers that he can no longer live without their faith to sustain him. During the Northern Crusades, a great many of them were persecuted for their faith, and Erebus fell into a centuries-long slumber. Only when his followers began to grow in number again did he wake--and command those loyal to him to seek vengeance for their fallen brethren. Naturally, Yuna had a thing or two to say about that.

Erebus is highly asocial, but does not dislike his coworkers. It would be a stretch to say he views them as family; even so, he gets along well with them on the rare occasion Yuna can talk him out of his comfortable pocket of darkness. As the oldest of his colleagues, he is respected and even admired, but he cares little for the love of his own kind. He desires mortal love, which he receives through his worshipers. Due to their number still being relatively low, you’ll rarely catch him awake. Only Yuna seems able to rouse him, and only because Yuna is his “most cherished one”.

Mage: A troublemaker with a bark worse than his bite--but he can and will bite, so mind your fingers. Like Dr. Callaway, his true name is known only to Yuna. His coworkers know him as Mage, taken from Magenta, the name of the rather nasty chemical he produces to draw in his prey. He doesn’t harm them, but he has seduced many a married man away from his wife. Causing strife among couples is what he does best. As an incubus, he finds the taste of a married man’s energy too sweet to resist. So, of course, when he found himself seduced by Yuna, he was completely baffled--and absolutely obsessed. He still toys with married men now and then, when he gets the chance, but spends most of his time trying to talk Yuna back into bed.

Though rare, Mage can be persuaded to bust heads, and does so with the best of ‘em. He’s highly territorial, meaning that although he rather likes his colleagues, he often tangles up with them over Yuna’s affection. He is particularly hostile toward Nihil, who rather delights in teasing Mage with his closeness to their master. Outside of his romantic conflicts with his housemates, he tends to be rather lackadaisical, spending much of his free time lounging on every comfortable surface available. People find his presence enjoyable due to his easygoing disposition and passion for mischief.

Nihil: Of all the demons under Yuna’s employ, Nihil is the one who has come closest to winning his heart. Theirs is a strangely intimate relationship, one which Yuna insists is platonic--and yet, Nihil is at his side always, his obedient shadow. Of course, they weren’t always so close. Nihil is an inherently violent, cruel man whose sole purpose in life is to cause as much pain and grief as he possibly can. He is absolutely, positively insane, for no other reason than this is how he believes a demon should be. This is his aesthetic, and a demon’s aesthetic is absolute. He minds his P’s and Q’s now that he’s bound to Yuna, but never lets his “family” forget what he is, Yuna least of all.

Nihil loves no being, except, by his own admission, Yuna. He teases his master constantly, always pushing his limits, always pushing his buttons. “I am your loyal dog,” is a favorite line of his, spoken, with a pointed smile, whenever Yuna asks something of him. For some reason, it never fails to fluster Yuna, which allows Nihil to worm himself further into his darling’s heart. Unlike his colleagues, he is not afraid to get physical with Yuna, and many of their more heated arguments have ended in the bedroom. Whether Nihil actually enjoys servitude remains to be seen, but for Yuna, he would pull the moon from the sky.

Pox: The general consensus on Pox is “unfriendly, but not unbearable”. A life of self-isolation has made him difficult to approach, even more difficult to befriend, especially given that everyone he’s ever loved, he has killed. He is a demon of sickness, of plague and of rot, of suffering so old as to be carved into the bones of the earth. When he was young, he could not control the disease that spread from him. Though his mortal mother tried desperately to guide him, eventually, she was overcome, and Pox left the village he had once called home, now populated only by the dead and dying. He learned then that he could not live among his mother’s people, but he knew nothing of his father’s. Rather than seek them out and put them at risk as well, he exiled himself to the outskirts of human society, interacting with it only when necessary. With time, he came to understand his power, and was able to control it--but his peaceful life came to an end when one of the few humans he had allowed himself to love was killed in a botched robbery. Pox designated himself judge, jury, and executioner, and it wasn’t long before Yuna showed up on his doorstep.

Pox hides his self-loathing under a cold, hard outer shell. His mask is flawless, perfected through a lifetime of guilt, and he allows no one near enough to break it. His coworkers believe that they are despised by him, but in truth, he loves each of them with every inch of himself. Saying so is difficult, though, and such an admission would only encourage them to endanger themselves. He may be in complete control of his magic most days, but there are times even now when he catches himself slipping. He is desperate to protect Yuna and the strange family they have all built together, so much so that he would rather suffer in silence than risk their lives asking for help.

Seta Sericum: The peculiarity of his name has led to his coworkers calling him Silky, a moniker which he has accepted only begrudgingly. Silky is a Nephalem, the product of a love between angel and demon. Typically, his fathers’ love for one another would have ended in tragedy, but the two stayed together even after their angelic half was cast from divinity. Silky was raised in a happy home, albeit a mobile one; his fathers couldn’t risk staying in one place for too long, lest the Church track them down. Ultimately, it was the Church, their greatest fear, that was their end. They were cut down while protecting Silky, who was forced to flee in the vain hope that his absence might somehow save his fathers. The Church searched for him, but he had hidden himself well. Now an orphan, he swore vengeance on his parents’ murderers--and he got it too, once he was old enough to control his immense magical power. He despises the Church, but killed only those among its ranks who had directly harmed him. Regardless, Yuna came for him, and he submitted to servitude as recompense.

Silky’s demonic father was a real fop of a man, and his son is no different now that he’s had a chance to adjust to a normal life. He insists that everyone pull their own weight, that everything be in its place at all times, and has a fondness for indulgences such as expensive wine and imported chocolates. Without these little luxuries, he would surely have gone mad, for both his mischievous master and his trouble-making housemates frustrate him to no end. He has tried, with mixed success, to serve as a role model for them, but, oh, they are all such children. Dovey is far too naive, Dr. Callaway is far too sadistic, Corvo is far too oblivious, Mage is far too flirtatious, Nihil is far too violent, Pox is far too cold, and Vincent is far too reclusive. Erebus, at least, is well-behaved, though Silky thinks he could stand to mingle more with the group.

Vincent Blythe: On the forefront of medical progress during the Victorian Era, Dr. Vincent Blythe has become little more than a shell of his former self. When his prostitute mother was murdered by one of her stags, something snapped in him. He began targeting, torturing, and finally killing any man who frequented brothels or whom he had seen with street-walkers, believing himself to be the protector of his mother’s people. It was only then when he realized he was something more than human. His father, it turned out, had been a demon who had fallen terribly in love with his mother, but whose feelings had been spurned by her. After receiving a near-fatal wound in a skirmish with a prominent vampire hunter of the day, Vincent tucked himself away in a dark corner of London to heal. He slept for over a century, and when he woke, attempted to pick up where he’d left off. Confused, his trauma still fresh in his mind, he killed all who drew near. Phone calls were made, flights were booked, and Yuna arrived on scene to bring him back to his senses.

Vincent is terribly withdrawn. On the one hand, he is distrustful of all humans, and men in particular frighten him. On the other hand, he has had little to no experience with his own kind, and so struggles to fit in among them. He finds himself at an impasse, unable to shake the trauma of his mother’s murder, and equally unable to bond with his father’s kin. Because of this, he is prone to bouts of violent madness when he feels that he is being threatened, or when he wakes from particularly vivid nightmares, in which he witnesses his mother’s murder and can do nothing to stop it. Dr. Callaway has oft remarked that Vincent is a genius, a true medical prodigy, and that it is too bad he’s so “broken”.

[discipleofkleio]

Posting this here because I don't want to deal with Twitter's potential response, or write it all out there, but RE: Meghan Markle and British Racism (long post)

First off, the British of a certain class and background are racist. They're racist against Polish people, they're racist against Roma, they're racist against Indians, against Pakistanis, and most certainly against black people and mixed race people. The problem is that they really hate thinking about this and coming anywhere close to admitting it, because they are aware that being racist is very bad. However things like Brexit and the push against immigrants/visibly different groups have lifted the mask here a bit, as has the recent genetics based British Nationalism movement where being genetically 100% British is a good thing.

The problem about all of this is that racism is very heavily institutionalized in England, with certain races being nigh-on baked into certain classes, which gives the racists ways to get around their racist feelings by claiming "they're not the right class" - an equally dubious claim to why treating someone different is acceptable but alright have your logical fallacy.

This class divide conveniently puts mostly non-white/immigrant groups in lower classes (due primarily to the largely unexamined legacy of slavery and colonialism) while putting white Brits in higher classes. In a society still run by an aristocracy and possessing of a royal family, this means that the upper echelons of society are expected to be and remain perfectly white and (preferably) 100% British. This also means that automatically whiter skin = higher class = more automatically deserving of good things because you were born into it.

Enter then Meghan Markle, a biracial American whose family is from the "servant" class of society, and who marries into the highest of the high class by falling in love with Prince Harry. Suddenly all the class-based racism is turned on it's head, because if a woman who looks like that is in the upper class, then that means something is wrong because she's "not the right class". Cue all the arguments of ''she can't follow protocol'' despite others doing exactly what she did both before and after, and all the tabloids claiming that by marrying her Harry was marrying into gangster royalty, or how her ''exotic DNA" would get into the Royal Family, and all the claims that any sign of emotion from her are attempts at manipulation (a non-white woman being emotional? must be manipulation, says the i'm-not-racist-but...), and there's a real movement for her to be removed one way or another to set things right in the racial class divide in Britain.

I have no doubt that many people in Britain will only stop their openly hostile treatment of Meghan Markle when she is either dead or in the event of her divorce, at which point Harry will be welcomed back with open arms and given a proper marriage to a woman from an acceptable class. A large part of their hostility now is that Harry and Meghan are sharing their side of the story, which people can't take because it makes the Royal Family look bad, despite the Royal Family very obviously allowing the hostile treatment to both start and continue by allowing all the "leaks" from the palace. Additionally, this ignores the fact that Harry himself had called out the British press before - just no one cared then because it wasn't in defense of a class interloper.

It's obvious now that the RF itself is behind these leaks, given the new King, his wife, and the Crown Prince and Princess have all hired to represent them people who were at the head of attacks on Meghan Markle. If they cared to assuage concerns that what Meghan and Harry have and will say is true then they could have made statements about it calling for it to end, or done whatever it is that they did to get people to stop talking about Kate's botox or multiple family members' adultery. How convenient for them that the one time they don't direct the press at all it's about a biracial, "low class" woman who's in their midst by the fluke of marriage. The Royal Family had the perfect opportunity to show to the Commonwealth that they were open to all their subjects via the marriage of Harry and Meghan, but blew it because they allowed the media and endless criticism to chase them away.

I might have more to say later, but tl;dr : The British people who hate Meghan Markle are allowing racial and class divides to enable the media to cloud their judgement of someone whose only real crime is to exist outside of the made up social hierarchy that British society clings to.

[hualianff]

Untethered (Bonus II) 《Bonus I》

For the first time in his life, XL feels like he can speak without the pressures and expectations of being a prince weighing down on his shoulders. He watches his facial expressions in the mirror as he rambles about the various meetings he had for the day. The subtle dancing of his eyebrows, rapid blinking of his eyes, and pinched corners of his lips—all indicative of how animated he is when summarizing his duties that seemed more like work than anything else.

The fact that HC is here, brushing his hair, and listening with occasional intrigued hums make XL reinvigorated as his role as prince. Despite the demanding energy, control, and fairness the role takes, XL is incredibly grateful for the privilege and promises himself to continue to fulfill this purpose to the best of his abilities.

So far, XL believes he’s done a sufficient job, preparing to ascend to the throne. After hearing him speak, he secretly hopes HC thinks so too.

“Ah, San Lang, thank you for kindly tending to my hair. It looks wonderful,” XL says once he feels the final knots come undone by HC’s broad strokes.

“Of course it looks wonderful. It is His Highness, after all,” the pirate captain comments smoothly. XL can’t help but smile at the compliment.

HC goes to place the comb back on the vanity. He switches it out for a short ribbon that shimmers silver when hit by the moonlight.

“Allow me to do one more thing,” HC adds. He gathers all of XL’s hair to fall behind his shoulders, the strands still a bit damp. With practiced movements, HC parts the prince’s hair into three sections, then begins braiding the pieces into a thick, tight section.

XL licks his lips in anticipation. Though he’s had his hair styled a thousand times before, this is HC who currently braids his long locks, a gesture that seems a bit intimate.

Not that you mind, XL briefly thinks.

“How have the last few weeks treated San Lang?” He asks, reminding HC of his promise to talk about his days on the ocean. HC pulls the pieces of hair tighter, focused on creating a simple yet consistent and neat braided pattern for the prince.

“Troublesome. There’s a new pirate ship we have encountered several times. They said they want to challenge us for our water territories, which is a load of shit because the sea belongs to no one,” HC spits out heatedly. His tone is harsh but his touch is gentle as ever. “I honestly think the captain wants to mess with me. Make me question my reign as the ‘most feared, ruthless, and violent pirate to sail the waters.’”

“Oh. I see,” XL says hesitantly. He’s not very familiar with the inside knowledge of pirate ways and society other than what is generalized by the public. And the palace’s gossip, of course.

Suddenly, a rush of hot air tickles XL’s ear. XL locks eyes with HC through the mirror, heart stuttering at the dark, hungry look in the pirate’s eye.

“What does His Highness think?”

“Think about what?”

“My reputation. Does the real thing live up to your imagination?” HC questions with a sly smirk, quickly tying the ribbon at the end of the braid, then moving it to fall over XL’s right shoulder. XL only has a few seconds to marvel at the stunning handiwork before HC leans forward even more, urging XL to turn toward him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

The pirate captain smells like manly musk mixed in with the ocean breeze. XL nervously gulps.

“I- um,” XL starts, feeling his face heat up. “Hmm, maybe not entirely...”

HC’s eye slowly flits down XL’s face. XL remains still, mentally kicking himself for wondering what it would feel like to close the small gap and-

“Fair enough,” HC remarks, pulling away, leaving a rush of air in his wake. “I suppose I’m not the madman people say I am. After all, His Highness wouldn’t have let me into his room otherwise, no?”

Something hot burns inside XL’s gut. He had to let HC in! If the pirate were discovered by the palace guards, he’d be imprisoned indefinitely for sure! XL was simply doing an act of service for HC...nothing too outrageous like HC implied.

Nope, none at all.

“You’re blushing.“

“San Lang better take a good look around lest this is the only time I invite him into my room,” XL huffs out, resolutely facing forward and avoiding HC’s penetrating gaze.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply teasing,” HC says, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “A prince like you must have many admirers to choose from. I shall not take this privilege for granted.”

“Admirers? Where on Earth did you get that from?” XL asks, appalled. He hasn’t taken interest in any of the brides his father provided, much less traveled to other kingdoms in a serious pursuit to find one to marry.

“Is there not a ball happening this coming week? For you to choose a suitable woman to become your queen?” HC inquiries nonchalantly. He tucks a rogue curl behind XL’s ear, the prince subtly leaning into the touch.

XL whips around in astonishment, braid flying to his other shoulder.

“How did you know!?”

“I have ears on land, my prince. Even when I’m out sailing the sea,” HC says. “We have also passed numerous royal ships carrying your guests for the celebration.”

XL wilts in his seat.

It’s not much of a celebration if XL hadn’t wanted to host an engagement ball in the first place. Years of his father’s insistent pushing have led to more frequent gatherings with other royalty in hopes that XL finds a fiancé.

Unlike his parents, XL wasn’t betrothed from a young age. Furthermore, he hasn’t expressed  any interest in marriage even once becoming an adult.

(“Your mother and I were married at twenty. You, my son, are already twenty-two,” the king always said. “You should quickly find a princess who catches your eye. The sooner you get yourself a wife, the sooner she will start learning her duties as queen.”)

XL has successfully put off marriage for a couple of years, deferring to his rigorous training schedule and duties as prince as an excuse. Fortunately, his mother is willing to let XL take his time, as the king isn’t set to retire anytime soon. After all, XL learning his responsibilities as king is the most important task.

HC instantly notices XL’s deflated expression. He attempts to backpedal.

“I had no right to bring that up. If this is something Gege does not want to discuss, then, by all means, he may change the subject,” HC says quietly. Respectfully.

“No. It is fine. It is by no means a secret at all. The ball has been scheduled for weeks now,” XL murmurs while looking at his bare feet. He fiddles with the long braid, smoothing over the tightly wrapped strands absent-mindedly. “I’m not actively looking for a wife or anything. At least, I don’t want to...”

“Your Highness-“

“San Lang.”

HC’s mouth snaps shut. He straightens his back with his shoulders set square, standing at attention in front of the Prince of Xianle.

“Could you do something for me? A small favor, if you will.”

“Anything,” HC immediately answers.

XL subconsciously chews on his lower lip, a habit that his closest friend SQX reprimands him for doing because it tears up both the old and healing skin. Easy to overdo, not a quick fix, SQX claims.

XL rises to his feet. He holds his hand out to the pirate, palm facing upwards.

Where’s My Love – SYML

“Will you dance with me?”

“I’m afraid gege will be sorely disappointed with this one’s lack of skill,” HC says as a matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept XL’s hand, his long fingers blanketing XL’s own.

The prince’s heart skips a beat as the pirate pulls him close until their chests almost touch. XL feels small; HC’s heeled boots to XL’s bare feet exaggerate their height difference, XL only coming up to HC’s chest.

XL feels small but strangely, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“San Lang needs only to follow my lead,” XL says, looking up with a smile. He properly intertwines their left and right hands, then places HC’s other hand on his shoulder. Finally, XL goes to hold the pirate’s waist, the thin fabric giving way to the hard muscle underneath.

“Gege must have danced with a lot of pretty women before,” HC muses, moving his feet as XL slowly guides him into a waltz. XL hopes it isn’t just him imagining a slow, romantic piece to harmonize their movements.

“Is San Lang jealous?” XL asks without thinking.

Goodness, did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Other than his eyes widening in slight horror, XL schools his face into a calm expression, not wanting to seem conceited or even desperate.

HC peers down with a lazy smirk, almost crowding into the prince as they turn to dance in a circle. Despite XL’s effort to appear unfazed by the prospect of HC envying those who’ve had the opportunity to dance with the Prince of Xianle, the pirate still catches the hopeful flicker of XL’s eyelashes.

“A little bit. Though in a way, I’ve had my fair share of dances with Gege myself,” HC states proudly, referring back to their previous sparring sessions. The break in focus has HC stumbling over his feet, prompting XL to squeeze his waist as a reprimand to concentrate.

“Ah, yes. San Lang’s skill is undeniable in that aspect,” XL says, laughing. “He’s also the first and only man I’ve danced ever with.”

“What an honor,” HC purrs out, and then he lowers XL into an abrupt dip, holding the prince by his hip and upper back.

XL’s breath hitches, wondering how they seamlessly switched positions. HC tenderly stares down at the prince, a twinkle dimly reflecting in his left eye.

“San Lang...” XL whispers, clutching onto HC’s shoulders. His long braid feels heavy like rope where it hangs down, nearly touching the ground.

“Your Highness.”

Their faces are millimeters apart, skimming each other’s noses. They’ve never been this close before, especially not in the absence of any sort of weapon. No one besides the king and queen, palace servants, and bodyguards are even allowed to touch the prince.

Now here he is, in the arms of the infamous Crimson Rain, on the verge of letting himself want.

Tentatively, XL licks his lips before asking, “Why do you always come back?”

“Gege knows this answer too,” HC solemnly says.

XL tilts his chin up, eyelids starting to lower.

“I come back for you, my dear Prince.”

As HC leans down—still supporting XL’s weight—XL meets him halfway for their first proper kiss, alone together in the prince’s room where the pale moonlight spills through the balcony doors. It’s a light and airy peck, one that ends way too soon for XL’s liking.

When they pull apart, HC stands XL back up. The pirate notices XL’s robe has slid off one shoulder. He goes to pull it back up but XL quickly grasps his jaw for another kiss instead.

They part again.

“Just...one more-“ XL breathes out, adrenaline coursing through his veins. HC’s lips are warm and firm, easily pliable as they press deliciously against XL’s own. “...one more.”

HC gladly obliges.

Their kisses gradually pick up in pace, HC’s hands respectively exploring the span of XL’s back, his hips, and sides. XL eagerly pulls HC over to the edge of his bed, spinning them around so he can climb onto the pirate’s lap.

HC groans low in his throat, comfortably looping his arms around XL’s waist.

At this point, all of XL’s reservations have been cast aside and he’s going to act on the desires concerning a certain pirate that have been taunting him for months now, damn it.

XL surges forward with a force that knocks HC back against the soft mattress.

“Your Highness,” HC growls between kisses, still trying to cover up XL’s shoulder, and now his chest where the robe is loose enough to reveal noticeable cleavage. XL shifts a bit to align their hips, unintentionally rubbing against HC. “Shit-“

“Hua Cheng-“ XL hums, belatedly realizing his slip up. HC nips at his lip for his mistake.

“San L-lang,” XL mewls like the starved for affection prince that he is. HC’s tongue darts out to swipe across XL’s upper lip. Then, his lower lip.

XL naturally opens up for him, gasping as HC’s hot tongue licks inside his mouth with a dominance that consumes XL. The more XL lets his lust cloud his movement, the faster he feels himself harden.

When XL’s hands brush along HC’s hair, they accidentally graze onto his eyepatch. HC grunts in surprise, which has XL springing back as the situation of the last five minutes dawns upon him.

He sits up on HC’s thighs, placing his palms on the pirate’s chest. Underneath him, HC is a gorgeous vision–thick, wavy hair splayed out on XL’s pillow, lips swollen and spit-slicked.

“Oh my- oh my lord,” XL chokes out, completely breathless. “Was- was that t-too much?”

“Not at all, Your Highness,” HC replies with a rogue-ish smirk. “Come here.”

HC embraces his prince with long arms, squeezing tightly and pressing a series of kisses to the top of XL’s head. XL hesitantly rests his cheek on HC’s sternum, aware of how close their bodies are pressed together.

“Who knew Gege could kiss like that?”

“Like what?” XL questions petulantly.

“Like a shameless minx,” the pirate captain answers, chuckling when XL whines at the implication.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” XL shyly admits.

“Me too,” HC murmurs. XL lifts his head, crosses his arms on HC’s chest, then sets his chin on them. “Since the moment I saw you sitting alone at the pub.”

“You wanted to kiss the crown prince at first sight?” XL asks, pretending to be scandalized. HC kisses the tip of XL’s nose. XL scrunches it up in response.

“Hmm, my prince now.”

“Well, your prince would very much like it if San Lang stays the night.”

“I must be back at the harbor before dawn,” HC says, stroking XL’s hair. “However, I can most certainly afford to accompany Gege while he sleeps.”

XL happily snuggles close to HC, not worrying quite so much about the ball now that he has something going on with HC. To his astonishment, the pirate seems to return his affections quite enthusiastically. As a prince with the duty to serve his people, XL reckons he deserves this moment of happiness.

After another hour of blissful exchanging kisses and aimless conversation, XL feels himself begin to drift. He hears a whispered promise from HC who protectively curls around him.

“I will never bring you harm, Your Highness. Your heart is safe with me.”

XL falls asleep into a dreamless slumber.

***

Present...

As if it happens in slow motion, XL swings the sword with all the power he possesses. HC’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.

“Gege.”

Something inside XL shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for XL’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at XL to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?

The answer is right in front of him.

“I’m back.”

Three things happen at once.

A deafening BOOM fires at the royal ship from the opposite direction, pitch-black flags with the symbolic skeleton of a fish piercing through the chilly air.

Simultaneously, a blinding flash of lightning strikes across the sky, signaling an even more intense downpour of rain that obscures everyone’s vision. Surprised screams echo somewhat mutely among the roaring winds.

Lastly, XL swings his sword so it barely skims the open blouse HC wears and keeps rotating until it crosses behind him, where he lets it go flying back to the royal ship.

At that moment, XL leaps forward into HC’s embrace, where those long arms encircle his waist, and both men are sent tumbling down into the crashing waves of the raging ocean.

《VI》