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yanaromanov · 2 months

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pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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che444 · 7 months

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In order to change them, you must change YOU.

(Long post)

I have manifested many people back into my life: SPs , old friends, family member, people I wanted to be friends with but didn’t have the courage to ask to be friends. Literally anyone. But before I could invite them into my life, I had to go within.

When you’re manifesting someone, you must not only drop your old story but theirs as well. This was hard for me to understand at first because I had very strong negative emotions towards some people for what they did, and I chained them to those cinder blocks of mistakes and viewed them in that light forever.

I am one to hold a grudge, and sometimes they do some bs that makes them deserve it! You’re valid!

However, if you want a person back in your life under better circumstance you must remember several important things:

everything happens through you:

I am not blaming you for their behavior but what you must realize is that they have no choice but to continue to be the way that you ultimately view them. If you think your SP doesn’t want you, they will continue to not want you, because you are consumed in that thought and they only reflect you, you are god and they are your creation.

Process how they made you feel:

You’re never just going to let something go, sometimes people will hurt you, but in order to change the story surrounding them and how you view them you must process your feelings towards them. Write it down, talk to a close friend, whatever works for you.

You may come out of this not wanting them in your life and that is perfectly okay, you may decide you no longer want them and you want someone better and that’s okay! Manifest it baby!

Allow them to evolve and/or Allow yourself to have the version of them you want

If you want to access this new and improved version of them you must allow it to come in or it simply will not.

What I like to do is take myself out of the position of being the person who experienced them, and look at the raw emotions of it all, as God. I am not a religious person, however looking back on when I grew up Christian it definitely offered some interesting points that I believe helped in my journey.

If you are god and all your creation is made in your image, take a second to consider it you have ever done anything that may have caused hurt. Have you ever done anything that hurt someone? Have you ever related to feelings of jealousy or got really angry at someone? Most likely. Have you been forgiven and in turn changed to be better? There are many people who may still view you as the villain in their story but you have forgiven yourself and became anew, they could never put that on you now because of who you have evolved to become, right? Well, give this person a chance to evolve. You are the one writing the story, are you going to continue to make them the big bad wolf or are you going to let them be the knight in shining armor.

Now if this is about you not believing you deserve it, you need to start there. Why do you believe you are not worthy of your creation? Why do you believe you cannot have them or that they don’t want to be in your life? It may be that you don’t believe in love, or that you don’t believe you are worthy. Work on self concept and understand that you are everything and therefore everything is yours. From the trees to the moon, you are everything.

You can get a completely different version of them, you can completely revise an argument away, you could literally make them disappear. You can do anything! It’s your world.

Most importantly: LEAVE THE 3D ALONE

Sweetheart, if you are still maintaining the state that they hate you after saying affirmations for a day then immediately trying to text them, STOP. Start within, and the 3D has no choice but to follow. If you want to make up with them, go within, set the scene of making up with them in your head, say your affirmations, or whatever will give you the feeling that you seek. Once you reach that fulfillment within yourself, they have no choice but to reflect. Let them be who you want them to be, stop holding the old story over both of you, release it, and write a new story. Have faith in your story and have faith in you, and you will receive exactly what you want. Don’t worry about time, worry about you, time isn’t god, you are love.

P.S - don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t manifest a better version of your ex or a person. You are god, why would you let anyone tell YOU what to do? Be fr.

Luv, che 🌺

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #self concept #manifestation #desired reality #manifest #shifting motivation #shifting realities #loa

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: prince alhaitham x knight male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: brief scenes of the forbidden love between a prince and a knight.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.2k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: implied sex, not super descriptive foreplay, briefly mentioned: implied christianity, violence, and homophobia.

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: inspired by the song of achilles, which i just started today and haven't finished yet because i am pacing myself.

lmk if you want a short series.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

They tell you that when the knight saves the princess from the dragon, he is rewarded with her hand in marriage.

They don't tell you what happens when the knight is not noble-born. They don't tell you what happens when her father is greedy and stubborn and scornful. They never tell you what happens when a prince is saved instead, nor when God himself dictates such a marriage as punishable by His law.

They teach you that you must lay down your life if it means the royals get to breathe in your stead.

When they took you from your wailing mother's arms, they thought you fodder for the war they were apprehensive of; another stick used to prod the fire.

When you showed promise, a slight reluctance to potentially harm your peers in mere sword training turned to an acknowledgement that this–forgoing others and even your needs for the sake of improvement–was necessary, they thought themselves lucky to have found you.

Yet, when you climbed up the ranks and earned yourself a spot amongst the noble knights, they still looked down upon your dirty blood.

When the prince was kidnapped by a dragon seeking his silver hair that shined like the iron of your armor and steel of your sword, every man in the king's army took to arms, but only one returned.

The prince you once only stole glances of now stared up at you with new adoration, like you were the very sun that made his hair gleam, and looking forward was all you could do to not flush under the heat of his gaze.

You did not earn his hand in marriage, but a place at his side, forever and always. Except you were not even deemed one of those sworn companions he had forgone, only a bodyguard; though his still.

If it meant he got to breathe, you should be happy to take the blows directed his way.

And that you are.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

His Highness Alhaitham had come to like you, has grown to love you, and he does not wish it to be this way.

If you laid down your life for his, wouldn't it be selfish?

He speaks these words into your embrace.

The moonlight bathes over his hair, making it gleam silver. The thousands of branches and leaves of the bush he's pressing you into prick into your skin and the clothing–unbecoming of a knight–that you wear, and you can't find it in you to care.

You only care for the peaceful silence of the night; the assurety that he has you for himself, and you, him for yourself; and each other.

"You cannot leave me. It'd be selfish of you."

"Can't I be selfish for once?"

Haitham scoffs. He always tells you that you have to give up your selflessness. You can't use it against him now, it's unfair. "Not this time."

"Why not?"

He looks up into your eyes and finds amusement in them, at this, he is displeased. "Take me seriously."

Your gaze softens and you reach out to hold his cheek, your fingers grazing over the soft silver of his hairline, "I am. I couldn't live in a world without you."

"And you'd be selfish to let me live in a world without you?"

The amusement returns to crinkle your eyes. "Yes."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You yearn to love him publicly. Not to show the kingdom he is yours, but to show the kingdom that you love Alhaitham like he is the light and the darkness, like he is the tile at your feet, the leather against your fingertips, the air in your hair, and the honey on your lips.

You love Alhaitham like he is the whole world, but you must stave yourself off with quick glances across the dancefloor.

He yearns, also, to pull you between the bodies of loving dancers and twirl like you belong. He yearns for his tailcoat to swish in the air like the skirt of a pompous dress while he spins in your arms.

The two of you yearn for a lot of things, but he is not yet king, and you are but low blood.

In a rare moment, the suitors have left the uninteresting, polite prince who shows them no favor. In the next, he nods his head vaguely out, and you know what he means. You head out first, for he is surrounded by more bachelorettes the second after.

You don't know how he frees himself from them, but you don't find it in you to care. He is right in front of you, and he looks like, "the most beautiful person this night."

He rolls his eyes and surges forward, pressing his body against yours in a starved embrace, "You only say that because you love me."

"It is true that I love you," You shamelessly admit with a laugh, "but it is also true that you are breathtaking, my dear."

"You call me that as though we are fifty."

You would love to be fifty with him.

"I call you that because I can."

He fixes his body and stands up a little straighter. You raise a brow as he takes up the stance of an overly touchy dance partner.

The music still streams in through the balcony doors, the moonlight illuminates your "stage". He wants to dance. It is clear before he even says it.

"Will you–?"

"Yes." You capture his lips in a kiss.

You don't know how to dance. You are lackluster, for you never had classes, and so is he, for he was only taught how to lead the dance.

It's awkward, so he tucks his head into your neck and settles for a sway.

You don't care, you only desire to keep him in your arms. You kiss where you can reach and sigh almost dreamily, "I was hoping to dance with you. Even if we were as uncoordinated as this."

"You never liked dancing." Haitham laughs, tickling your neck with his breath.

"I didn't like seeing you dancing with all those people. Or your attention being forced away."

"You were jealous?" He snaps his head back to look at you in this sudden revelation.

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly embarrassed, "No."

He knows the truth. "Sure."

You can't bring yourself to fight him on it.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You wish to love him publicly, but you must stave yourself off by doing so privately.

As you press Haitham against silk sheets and gift kisses to his increasingly bare skin, marking your appreciation with your lips, you are loving him so.

The knights at his door must know, with the way you are pulling airy moans from his throat.

Is it that they support you? Alhaitham can't think, not with the contrast of your rough, worked body against his soft, spoiled one.

He will think, later, basking in the afterglow that maybe you have called them off. That maybe it is your reputation that leaves them quiet, or that you have threatened their lives already.

Whatever it is, he is grateful. He is grateful for their silence, and he is grateful for you.

When you lay down your life for his, he is going to go down with you. He will not live in a world without you. Even when you will call him selfish for it.

After all, if you get to be selfish, he might as well keep his princely right to have his way.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #🎟 // genshin impact #🎫 // alhaitham #🌸 // success!#🌂 // failure

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transbookoftheday · 7 months

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🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️ Trans Books To Read If You Love "Our Flag Means Death" 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍⚧️

Can't get enough of Our Flag Means Death? Read some trans pirate books!

On Mar León de la Rosa's sixteenth birthday, el Diablo comes calling. Mar is a transmasculine nonbinary teen pirate hiding a magical ability to manipulate fire and ice. But their magic isn't enough to reverse a wicked bargain made by their father, and now el Diablo has come to collect his payment: the soul of Mar's father and the entire crew of their ship. When Mar is miraculously rescued by the sole remaining pirate crew in the Caribbean, el Diablo returns to give them a choice: give up their soul to save their father by the harvest moon, or never see him again. The task is impossible - Mar refuses to make a bargain, and there's no way their magic is a match for el Diablo. Then Mar finds the most unlikely allies: Bas, an infuriatingly arrogant and handsome pirate - and the captain's son; and Dami, a gender-fluid demonio whose motives are never quite clear. For the first time in their life, Mar may have the courage to use their magic. It could be their only redemption - or it could mean certain death.

(The audiobook for "The Wicked Bargain" is narrated by Vico Ortiz!)

In a world divided by colonialism and threaded with magic, a desperate orphan turned pirate and a rebellious imperial lady find a connection on the high seas. Aboard the pirate ship Dove, Flora the girl takes on the identity of Florian the man to earn the respect and protection of the crew. For Flora, former starving urchin, the brutal life of a pirate is about survival: don’t trust, don’t stick out, and don’t feel. But on this voyage, Flora is drawn to the Lady Evelyn Hasegawa, who is headed to an arranged marriage she dreads. Flora doesn’t expect to be taken under Evelyn’s wing, and Evelyn doesn’t expect to find such a deep bond with the pirate Florian. Neither expects to fall in love. Soon the unlikely pair set in motion a wild escape that will free a captured mermaid (coveted for her blood) and involve the mysterious Pirate Supreme, an opportunistic witch, double agents, and the all-encompassing Sea herself. Deftly entwining swashbuckling action and quiet magic, Maggie Tokuda-Hall’s inventive debut novel conjures a diverse cast of characters seeking mastery over their fates while searching for answers to big questions about identity, power, and love.

The Lost Boys say that Peter Pan went back to England because of Wendy Darling, but Wendy is just an old life he left behind. Neverland is his real home. So when Peter returns to it after ten years in the real world, he's surprised to find a Neverland that no longer seems to need him. The only person who truly missed Peter is Captain James Hook, who is delighted to have his old rival back. But when a new war ignites between the Lost Boys and Hook's pirates, the ensuing bloodshed becomes all too real - and Peter's rivalry with Hook starts to blur into something far more complicated, sensual, and deadly.

In the Christian Republic, homosexual people are given two choices—a camp to "fix" them, or exile to the distant islands populated by lesbians and gay men. Sixteen-year-old Jason chooses exile and expects a hardscrabble life but instead finds a thriving, supportive community. While exploring his identity as a transgender boy he also discovers adventure: kraken attacks, naval battles, a flying island built by asexual people, and a daring escape involving glow-in-the-dark paint. He also has a desperate crush on Sky, a spirited buccaneer girl, but fear keeps him from expressing his feelings. When Jason and his companions discover the Republicans are planning a war of extermination, they rally the people of the Rainbow Islands to fight back. Shy, bookish Jason will have to find his inner courage or everything and everyone he loves will be lost forever.

Book titles:

The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa

The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Rainbow Islands by Devin Harnois

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kiame-sama · 1 year

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Paved With Good Intentions- ((Yandere!Anderson v Yandere!Alucard) x Fem!Reader)

Warnings; yandere, yandere vs yandere, consistent 'good v evil' juxtaposition, virgin reader, slight unhinged behavior, both Alucard and Anderson are monsters in some way obsessing over the equivalent of a pet human, objectification, vampires (it's Hellsing, there will be vampires), religious soldiers, blasphemy, angels, devils, blood, mention of violence,

~~~~~~~~

The road to eternal suffering is paved with good intentions.

It was good intentions that got you into the mess you were currently facing, and it was those good intentions that captured the attention of monsters. Most people were concerned only with their own benefit and that was where you differed from all of them.

You wanted to help people regardless of if they were good people or not, doing what you could to lend a hand to those that needed it. There were what seemed to be endless empty churches in the country side because so many people decided to move into the cities instead. It was in one of these abandoned churches that you set up a small hospital and grew various herbs to help the people that came to you.

Medicines were becoming more expensive and people could not afford to be treated with more modern methods. You didn't charge any money to those who came to you for help, nor did you demand they be repentant followers of God. With all the new branches of the church and the demand of being a certain religion to receive help, you decided to just help without that demand.

Of course, since you had moved into a church there was no small amount of visitors regarding the church, most of whom you sent on their way. From pastors to wandering priests looking for a place to preach their sermon, countless people showed up at your door looking to spread their 'doctrine' to whoever would listen. Regardless of how far out from London you were, it seems anyone trying to help drew endless attention.

Letters demanding you declare some kind of loyalty to one branch of Christianity or another were shredded and burned. People who were not seeking aid but seeking followers were sent away with more than an angry word or two. Anyone trying to cause problems or preach loudly about their ideals were kicked out and chased off by you. Even with the countless people causing problems, more showed up for help of some kind.

That was how you first encountered the two monsters that would stalk your waking world and nightmares.

~~~~~~~~

It wasn't anything new for subsects of churches to crop up around London, but one particular church stood out among others. Apparently people went to the church seeking healing of their afflictions and would leave speaking about an angel that took care of them. Some even claimed it was miraculous healing from God, which drew more than a few raised eyebrows.

After countless letters sent and no response given, members of Hellsing and Iscariot decided to drop in for a visit. Of course, neither of them planned in accordance with one another- the two factions hated each other- but by whatever play of fate, they wound up visiting at the same time. Naturally the two monsters Alucard and Anderson were eager to continue their fight and little was going to stop them from going at it.

With weapons drawn and teeth bared, the monsters prepared to tear into one another gleefully. At least, the planned to until a decidedly female voice broke through their concentration with unusual clarity.

"Stop!"

It was atypical that either monsters would be called off their quarry so easily, but something about the voice snapped through their minds and drew their eyes to the source of the sound. Standing at the large double doors of the old church was a woman who glared with a fiery fury at the pair that still had yet to lower their weapons. The onlookers were surprised to see this young woman march out and into the moonlight toward the pair of beasts. Where most only saw this (h/c) woman with smooth (c/s) flesh walking in a pure white dress, the monsters saw something else entirely.

Perhaps it was the fact that none of them were exactly human, or perhaps it was because they were such monsters, but they saw a startling truth. Beneath the moonlight they saw the halo cast above the head of the woman, large ruffled wings partially open and catching the light that filtered down in a dazzling display. Light lazily faded in and out of existence like fireflies blinking in the night as it danced around the woman.

"Enough! I would have gladly welcomed you all had you not begun a fight immediately in front of my home! Put your weapons down immediately."

The pair were at a loss for words as they stared with unblinking eyes at the frustrated woman that chastised them. Weapons were slowly lowered as either monster took the being standing before them into consideration.

Alucard, the monster vampire, was shocked. He was not used to seeing anything close to the depiction of an angel among humans. As far as he had been concerned, there was no such thing as an angel outside of the various holy scriptures. Yet it seemed an angel stood before him in all their glory, the scent of the warm blood flowing within their veins calling to the beast inside with a low and seductive croon.

Anderson, the holy abomination, was humbled. He knew angels existed among men and he even thought he had caught a glimpse of one before, but nothing like this. Before him stood one of God's heavenly warriors sent down to perform blessings on His behalf. It humbled and invigorated Anderson to stand before one of the divine soldiers after years of preaching to the masses.

The group on both sides were fascinated to see the pair of beasts react so oddly and out of their typical character. On one side of the divide, a young blonde spoke up, her blue eyes filled with confusion as she pointed a single finger at the woman.

"Why does she have wings?"

"Wait," Integra turned to Seras, "what?"

"That woman, she's got wings."

This made the onlookers glance back only to see the same that they saw before, a woman with unshakable resolve in a flowing white dress. It was enough of an oddity that they resolved to speak on it once out of earshot of the young woman who seemed none the wiser.

"Forgive them," the priest Anderson had come with spoke first, walking forward to address the woman, "it seems they have forgotten their manners. We are here-"

"I don't care why you are here unless you are seeking healing. I will not have my patients be ridiculed or judged for any reason or by anyone."

"My good lady, we are not here to judge. Just to know what branch of the church you operate under-"

"None of them. This church was abandoned by your people long ago and I have turned it into my hospital where anyone and everyone can seek medical aid regardless of what brand of poison they believe in on Sundays. If you are here to preach, you can leave now and not come back. If you are here for medical attention, you may come inside only if you leave this violent nonsense at the door."

With that, you turned on one heel and confidently walked back to the church, not even glancing behind you to see if the group was following. Where most saw your retreating back, the beasts saw your illustrious feathers ruffled by the wind as the wings settled down securely on your back.

~~~~~~~~

"You found a what?"

The shocked voice broke the silence that had hung over the group of clergy members who sat at attention. The pope and all living cardinals were present among the ranks but even they were stunned to hear the report from their holy monstrosity.

"A tried and true angel. My eyes can't be deceived as easily as most. Even that abhorrent Hellsing Vampire saw her for what she truly is. She doesn't seem aware of her divinity which leads me to believe she was sent to live among us humans as a human, but she is an angel regardless."

This caused a hushed murmur to escape over the group as the men present tried to come to terms with several things. Naturally, hearing an angel walked on the Earth among men bolstered their faith and encouraged the idea that God watched over them. Beyond the angelic being, the idea that a No-Life King was aware of such a holy creature was certainly a cause for concern.

"So enemies outside of the church know one of heaven's blessed has appeared. We need to keep this holy servant out of the hands of those heretics!"

There were several shouts of agreement from the group, the members of the clergy keen to keep such a divine gift from falling into the hands of heretics. An angel was a member of the heavenly order and should be protected at all costs regardless of who may die as a result. Any member of the church would happily give their life to protect one of the divine soldiers from the filth of the world. It was during this murmuring and light bouts of conversation that Father Anderson chose to speak.

"I believe I know how."

"How?"

"She is clearly a very devoted woman who tends to the infirm, but she is loyal beyond human standards. Were she to find herself wed to a suitor, she would no doubt be a loyal wife."

This caused an immense outbreak of whispers and questions to come from the group. It made sense, of course, to have the angel wed to one of the church's most loyal members, but there were still countless questions among them. All of these questions were murmured and whispered among the group, yet Anderson stood silently where he had been since the start of the congregation taking place.

"What holy soldier could possibly be worthy of such a task?"

"Could one among us ever hope to claim a lady of God?"

"What a blessing to see every side of such a beautiful divine being!"

It was then the Pope spoke, standing up and demanding the attention of those in the room. An immediate silence fell over the group as they all looked to the holiest among them for guidence.

"Enough! The answer is clear, as a loyal member of this church and a true follower of God, Father Anderson is the obvious choice. Who else could keep such a precious blessing safe?"

After a moment of consideration, several cardinals voiced their agreement with the decision of the pope. Even those who were not in agreement kept their opinion to themselves, knowing that they had no better option to propose instead.

A grin stretched across Father Anderson's face, knowing that he had basically been given the go ahead to claim that angel any way he wished. There were dark lustful feelings churning inside of him, but who could truly blame him? If he was to be bound and wed to an angel, he would certainly wish to consummate the betrothal and have his new wife in her rightful place beneath him. The thought of being able to defile and indulge in the succulent flesh of that angelic being was no small temptation.

"I gladly accept and will take that pure being of God into the safety of my arms so that darkness may never touch her."

~~~~~~~~

"What exactly did you both see?"

Integra questioned the two vampires standing before her about the odd events that had taken place. They had cautiously retreated for the time being to assess the new information they had been presented with. The first thing that needed to be addressed was what exactly the vampires saw, as Integra only saw a woman instead of the angel the vampires saw.

"Oh? Police girl saw the truth as well? She is a Draculina, but I had expected only Anderson and I to see."

Alucard had his ever present grin as he thought about the unusual being he and the members of Hellsing had come across. Certainly the angel was not an every day being as it was the first time Alucard had even seen such a creature. It interested him to know that Seras had also witnessed the angel, but it was likely due to being one of Alucard's coven.

"Like I said, I saw that woman who yelled at Master Alucard had wings. They were big and fluffy and it was like she had some kind of light above her."

Seras was understandably confused in the situation because it seemed like an angel would be a much more common occurrence especially since it involved the various branches of the church. She was only starting to realize that it was a big deal to see an angel and even her master had not seen such a being before despite his long lifespan.

Alucard spoke next, his voice the usual relaxed drawl, but now there was an edge of excitement that accented his voice. An angel meant countless vampires and humans would be clambering over one another to get at such a divine being. Having one live in Hellsing manor meant all the entertainment possible would be coming to him instead of him being sent out to find and eliminate.

"I truly didn't think any feathered servant would be able to stand on this blood stained soil, let alone live among the worst of humans. But that is what they are supposed to do, right? Lift up the poor sinners and cure the ailments of all, even the non believers. The police girl is correct, (y/n) did have wings with bright feathers. I would say they were white, but I believe they were clear and worked like a prism where light is refracted. Above the crown of her head was an obvious gathering of light, a halo that so many humans have failed to capture the likeness of. A true angel."

Integra hummed in contemplation, knowing that Alucard was likely the best source of information regarding the odd woman they encountered. Anything they could do to keep that divine being out of the reach of Iscariot would always be ideal. Of course, she needed to think about her next move while anticipating the next move of her enemy.

"Iscariot will be chomping at the bit to get their vile hands on her. Alucard," Integra's voice was stern and to the point, "if I send you to retrieve her, you must give your word to bring her back alive, understood?"

"Yes, my master."

~~~~~~~~

(Tell me if y'all like it or want more!)

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere anderson #yandere alucard #yandere hellsing #tw blasphemy

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racefortheironthrone · 1 year

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Why People Are Wrong About the Puritans of the English Civil War and New England

Oh well, if you all insist, I suppose I can write something.

(oh good, my subtle scheme is working...)

Introduction:

So the Puritans of the English Civil War is something I studied in graduate school and found endlessly fascinating in its rich cultural complexity, but it's also a subject that is popularly wildly misunderstood because it's caught in the jaws of a pair of distorted propagandistic images.

On the one hand, because the Puritans settled colonial New England, since the late 19th century they've been wrapped up with this nationalist narrative of American exceptionalism (that provides a handy excuse for schoolteachers to avoid talking about colonial Virginia and the centrality of slavery to the origins of the United States). If you went to public school in the United States, you're familiar with the old story: the United States was founded by a people fleeing religious persecution and seeking their freedom, who founded a society based on social contracts and the idea that in the New World they were building a city on a hill blah blah America is an exceptional and perfect country that's meant to be an example to the world, and in more conservative areas the whole idea that America was founded as an explicitly Christian country and society. Then on the other hand, you have (and this is the kind of thing that you see a lot of on Tumblr) what I call the Matt Damon-in-Good-Will-Hunting, "I just read Zinn's People's History of the United States in U.S History 101 and I'm home for my first Thanksgiving since I left for colleg and I'm going to share My Opinions with Uncle Burt" approach. In this version, everything in the above nationalist narrative is revealed as a hideous lie: the Puritans are the source of everything wrong with American society, a bunch of evangelical fanatics who came to New England because they wanted to build a theocracy where they could oppress all other religions and they're the reason that abortion-banning, homophobic and transphobic evangelical Christians are running the country, they were all dour killjoys who were all hopelessly sexually repressed freaks who hated women, and the Salem Witch Trials were a thing, right?

And if anyone spares a thought to examine the role that Puritans played in the English Civil War, it basically short-hands to Oliver Cromwell is history's greatest monster, and didn't they ban Christmas?

Here's the thing, though: as I hope I've gotten across in my posts about Jan Hus, John Knox, and John Calvin, the era of the Reformation and the Wars of Religion that convulsed the Early Modern period were a time of very big personalities who were complicated and not very easy for modern audiences to understand, because of the somewhat oblique way that Early Modern people interpreted and really believed in the cultural politics of religious symbolism. So what I want to do with this post is to bust a few myths and tease out some of the complications behind the actual history of the Puritans.

Did the Puritans Experience Religious Persecution?

Yes, but that wasn't the reason they came to New England, or at the very least the two periods were divided by some decades. To start at the beginning, Puritans were pretty much just straightforward Calvinists who wanted the Church of England to be a Calvinist Church. This was a fairly mainstream position within the Anglican Church, but the "hotter sort of Protestant" who started to organize into active groups during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I were particularly sensitive to religious symbolism they (like the Hussites) felt smacked of Catholicism and especially the idea of a hierarchy where clergy were a better class of person than the laity.

So for example, Puritans really first start to emerge during the Vestments Controversy in the reign of Edward VI where Bishop Hooper got very mad that Anglican priests were wearing the cope and surplice, which he thought were Catholic ritual garments that sought to enhance priestly status and that went against the simplicity of the early Christian Church. Likewise, during the run-up to the English Civil War, the Puritans were extremely sensitive to the installation of altar rails which separated the congregation from the altar - they considered this to be once again a veneration of the clergy, but also a symbolic affirmation of the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.

At the same time, they were not the only religious faction within the Anglican Church - and this is where the religious persecution thing kicks in, although it should be noted that this was a fairly brief but very emotionally intense period. Archbishop William Laud was a leading High Church Episcopalian who led a faction in the Church that would become known as Laudians, and he was just as intense about his religious views as the Puritans were about his. A favorite of Charles I and a first advocate of absolutist monarchy, Laud was appointed Archbishop of Canturbury in 1630 and acted quickly to impose religious uniformity of Laudian beliefs and practices - ultimately culminating in the disastrous decision to try imposing Episcopalianism on Scotland that set off the Bishop's Wars. The Puritans were a special target of Laud's wrath: in addition to ordering the clergy to do various things offensive to Puritans that he used as a shibboleth to root out clergy with Puritan sympathies and fire them from their positions in the Church, he established official religious censors who went after Puritan writers like William Prynne for seditious libel and tortured them for their criticisms of his actions, cropping their ears and branding them with the letters SL on their faces. Bringing together the powers of Church and State, Laud used the Court of Star Chamber (a royal criminal court with no system of due process) to go after anyone who he viewed as having Puritan sympathies, imposing sentences of judicial torture along the way.

It was here that the Puritans began to make their first connections to the growing democratic movement in England that was forming in opposition to Charles I, when John Liliburne the founder of the Levellers was targeted by Laud for importing religious texts that criticized Laudianism - Laud had him repeatedly flogged for challenging the constitutionality of the Star Chamber court, and "freeborn John" became a martyr-hero to the Puritans.

When the Long Parliament met in 1640, Puritans were elected in huge numbers, motivated as they were by a combination of resistance to the absolutist monarchism of Charles I and the religious policies of Archbishop Laud - who Parliament was able to impeach and imprison in the Tower of the London in 1641. This relatively brief period of official persecution that powerfully shaped the Puritan mindset was nevertheless disconnected from the phenomena of migration to New England - which had started a decade before Laud became Archbishop of Canterbury and continued decades after his impeachment.

The Puritans Just Wanted to Oppress Everyone Else's Religion:

This is the very short-hand Howard Zinn-esque critique we often see of the Puritan project in the discourse, and while there is a grain of truth to it - in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, the Congregational Church was the official state religion, no other church could be established without permission from the Congregational Church, all residents were required to pay taxes to support the Congregational Church, and only Puritans could vote. Moreover, there were several infamous incidents where the Puritan establishment put Anne Hutchinson on trial and banished her, expelled Roger Williams, and hanged Quakers.

Here's the thing, though: during the Early Modern period, every single side of every single religious conflict wanted to establish religious uniformity and oppress the heretics: the Catholics did it to the Protestants where they could mobilize the power of the Holy Roman Emperor against the Protestant Princes, the Protestants did it right back to the Catholics when Gustavus Adolphus' armies rolled through town, the Lutherans and the Catholics did it to the Calvinists, and everybody did it to the Anabaptists.

That New England was founded as a Calvinist colony is pretty unremarkable, in the final analysis. (By the by, both Hutchinson and Williams were devout if schismatic Puritans who were firmly of the belief that the Anglican Church was a false church.) What's more interesting is how quickly the whole religious project broke down and evolved into something completely different.

Essentially, New England became a bunch of little religious communes that were all tax-funded, which is even more the case because the Congregationalist Church was a "gathered church" where the full members of the Church (who were the only people allowed to vote on matters involving the church, and were the only ones who were allowed to be given baptism and Communion, which had all kinds of knock-on effects on important social practices like marriages and burials) and were made up of people who had experienced a conversion where they can gained an assurance of salvation that they were definitely of the Elect. You became a full member by publicly sharing your story of conversion (which had a certain cultural schema of steps that were supposed to be followed) and having the other full members accept it as genuine.

This is a system that works really well to bind together a bunch of people living in a commune in the wilderness into a tight-knit community, but it broke down almost immediately in the next generation, leading to a crisis called the Half-Way Covenant.

The problem was that the second generation of Puritans - all men and women who had been baptized and raised in the Congrgeationalist Church - weren't becoming converted. Either they never had the religious awakening that their parents had had, or their narratives weren't accepted as genuine by the first generation of commune members. This meant that they couldn't hold church office or vote, and more crucially it meant that they couldn't receive the sacrament or have their own children baptized.

This seemed to suggest that, within a generation, the Congregationalist Church would essentially define itself into non-existence and between the 1640s and 1650s leading ministers recommended that each congregation (which was supposed to decide on policy questions on a local basis, remember) adopt a policy whereby the children of baptized but unconverted members could be baptized as long as they did a ceremony where they affirmed the church covenant. This proved hugely controversial and ministers and laypeople alike started publishing pamphlets, and voting in opposing directions, and un-electing ministers who decided in the wrong direction, and ultimately it kind of broke the authority of the Congregationalist Church and led to its eventual dis-establishment.

The Puritans are the Reason America is So Evangelical:

This is another area where there's a grain of truth, but ultimately the real history is way more complicated.

Almost immediately from the founding of the colony, the Puritans begin to undergo mutation from their European counterparts - to begin with, while English Puritans were Calvinists and thus believed in a Presbyterian form of church government (indeed, a faction of Puritans during the English Civil War would attempt to impose a Presbyterian Church on England.), New England Puritans almost immediately adopted a congregationalist system where each town's faithful would sign a local religious constitution, elect their own ministers, and decide on local governance issues at town meetings.

This seemed to suggest that, within a generation, the Congregationalist Church would essentially define itself into non-existence and between the 1640s and 1650s leading ministers recommended that each congregation (which was supposed to decide on policy questions on a local basis, remember) adopt a policy whereby the children of baptized but unconverted members could be baptized as long as they did a ceremony where they affirmed the church covenant. This proved hugely controversial and ministers and laypeople alike started publishing pamphlets, and voting in opposing directions, and un-electing ministers who decided in the wrong direction, and accusing one another of being witches. (More on that in a bit.)

And then the Great Awakening - which to be fair, was a major evangelical effort by the Puritan Congregationalist Church, so it's not like there's no link between evangelical - which was supposed to promote Congregational piety ended up dividing the Church and pretty soon the Congregationalist Church is dis-established and it's safe to be a Quaker or even a Catholic on the streets of Boston.

But here's the thing - if we look at which denominations in the United States can draw a direct line from themselves to the Congregationalist Church of the Puritans, it's the modern Congregationalists who are entirely mainstream Protestants whose churches are pretty solidly liberal in their politics, the United Church of Christ which is extremely cultural liberal, and it's the Unitarian Universalists who are practically issued DSA memberships. (I say this with love as a fellow comrade.)

By contrast, modern evangelical Christianity (although there's a complicated distinction between evangelical and fundamentalist that I don't have time to get into) in the United States is made up of an entirely different set of denominations - here, we're talking Baptists, Pentacostalists, Methodists, non-denominational churches, and sometimes Presbyterians.

The Puritans Were Dour Killjoys Who Hated Sex:

This one owes a lot to Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter.

The reality is actually the opposite - for their time, the Puritans were a bunch of weird hippies. At a time when most major religious institutions tended to emphasize the sinful nature of sex and Catholicism in particular tended to emphasize the moral superiority of virginity, the Puritans stressed that sexual pleasure was a gift from God, that married couples had an obligation to not just have children but to get each other off, and both men and women could be taken to court and fined for failing to fulfill their maritial obligations.

The Puritans also didn't have much of a problem with pre-marital sex. As long as there was an absolute agreement that you were going to get married if and when someone ended up pregnant, Puritan elders were perfectly happy to let young people be young people. Indeed, despite the objection of Jonathan Edwards and others there was an (oddly similar to modern Scandinavian customs) old New England custom of "bundling," whereby a young couple would be put into bed together by their parents with a sack or bundle tied between them as a putative modesty shield, but where everyone involved knew that the young couple would remove the bundle as soon as the lights were turned out.

One of my favorite little social circumlocutions is that there was a custom of pretending that a child clearly born out of wedlock was actually just born prematurely to a bride who was clearly nine months along, leading to a rash of surprisingly large and healthy premature births being recorded in the diary of Puritan midwife Martha Ballard. Historians have even applied statistical modeling to show that about 30-40% of births in colonial America were pre-mature.

But what about non-sexual dourness? Well, here we have to understand that, while they were concerned about public morality, the Puritans were simultaneously very strict when it came to matters of religion and otherwise normal people who liked having fun. So if you go down the long list of things that Puritans banned that has landed them with a reputation as a bunch of killjoys, they usually hide some sort of religious motivation.

So for example, let's take the Puritan iconoclastic tendency to smash stained glass windows, whitewash church walls, and smash church organs during the English Civil War - all of these things have to do with a rejection of Catholicism, and in the case of church organs a belief that the only kind of music that should be allowed in church is the congregation singing psalms as an expression of social equality. At the same time, Puritans enjoyed art in a secular context and often had portraits of themselves made and paintings hung on their walls, and they owned musical instruments in their homes.

What about the wearing nothing but black clothing? See, in our time wearing nothing but black is considered rather staid (or Goth), but in the Early Modern period the dyes that were needed to produce pure black cloth were incredibly expensive - so wearing all black was a sign of status and wealth, hence why the Hapsburgs started emphasizing wearing all-black in the same period. However, your ordinary Puritan couldn't afford an all-black attire and would have worn quite colorful (but much cheaper) browns and blues and greens.

What about booze and gambling and sports and the theater and other sinful pursuits? Well, the Puritans were mostly ok with booze - every New England village had its tavern - but they did regulate how much they could serve, again because they were worried that drunkenness would lead to blasphemy. Likewise, the Puritans were mostly ok with gambling, and they didn't mind people playing sports - except that they went absolutely beserk about drinking, gambling, and sports if they happened on the Sabbath because the Puritans really cared about the Sabbath and Charles I had a habit of poking them about that issue. They were against the theater because of its association with prostitution and cross-dressing, though, I can't deny that. On the other hand, the Puritans were also morally opposed to bloodsports like bear-baiting, cock-fighting, and bare-knuckle boxing because of the violence it did to God's creatures, which I guess makes them some of the first animal rights activsts?

They Banned Christmas:

Again, this comes down to a religious thing, not a hatred of presents and trees - keep in mind that the whole presents-and-trees paradigm of Christmas didn't really exist until the 19th century and Dickens' Christmas Carol, so what we're really talking about here is a conflict over religious holidays - so what people were complaining about was not going to church an extra day in the year. I don't get it, personally.

See, the thing is that Puritans were known for being extremely close Bible readers, and one of the things that you discover almost immediately if you even cursorily read the New Testament is that Christ was clearly not born on December 25th. Which meant that the whole December 25th thing was a false religious holiday, which is why they banned it.

The Puritans Were Democrats:

One thing that I don't think Puritans get enough credit for is that, at a time when pretty much the whole of European society was some form of monarchist, the Puritans were some of the few people out there who really committed themselves to democratic principles.

As I've already said, this process starts when John Liliburne, an activist and pamphleteer who promoted the concept of universal human rights (what he called "freeborn rights"), took up the anti-Laudian cause and it continued through the mobilization of large numbers of Puritans to campaign for election to the Long Parliament.

There, not only did the Puritans vote to revenge themselves on their old enemy William Laud, but they also took part in a gradual process of Parliamentary radicalization, starting with the impeachment of Strafford as the architect of arbitrary rule, the passage of the Triennal Acts, the re-statement that non-Parliamentary taxation was illegal, the Grand Remonstrance, and the Militia Ordinance.

Then over the course of the war, Puritans served with distinction in the Parliamentary army, especially and disproportionately in the New Model Army where they beat the living hell out of the aristocratic armies of Charles I, while defying both the expectations and active interference of the House of Lords.

At this point, I should mention that during this period the Puritans divided into two main factions - Presbyterians, who developed a close political and religious alliance with the Scottish Covenanters who had secured the Presbyterian Church in Scotland during the Bishops' Wars and who were quite interested in extending an established Presbyterian Church; and Independents, who advocated local congregationalism (sound familiar) and opposed the concept of established churches.

Finally, we have the coming together of the Independents of the New Model Army and the Leveller movement - during the war, John Liliburne had served with bravery and distinction at Edgehill and Marston Moore, and personally capturing Tickhill Castle without firing a shot. His fellow Leveller Thomas Rainsborough proved a decisive cavalry commander at Naseby, Leicester, the Western Campaign, and Langport, a gifted siege commander at Bridgwater, Bristol, Berkeley Castle, Oxford, and Worcester. Thus, when it came time to hold the Putney Debates, the Independent/Leveller bloc had both credibility within the New Model Army and the only political program out there. Their proposal:

redistricting of Parliament on the basis of equal population; i.e one man, one vote.

the election of a Parliament every two years.

freedom of conscience.

equality under the law.

In the context of the 17th century, this was dangerously radical stuff and it prompted Cromwell and Fairfax into paroxyms of fear that the propertied were in danger of being swamped by democratic enthusiasm - leading to the imprisonment of Lilburne and the other Leveller leaders and ultimately the violent suppression of the Leveller rank-and-file.

As for Cromwell, well - even the Quakers produced Richard Nixon.

#history #puritans #calvinism #english civil war #oliver cromwell #the stupid meme about christmas #new england #protestantism

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walkswithmyfather · 3 months

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‭‭1 Timothy‬ ‭1:12‭-‬17‬ (‭GNT‬‬). “I give thanks to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength for my work. I thank him for considering me worthy and appointing me to serve him, even though in the past I spoke evil of him and persecuted and insulted him. But God was merciful to me because I did not yet have faith and so did not know what I was doing. And our Lord poured out his abundant grace on me and gave me the faith and love which are ours in union with Christ Jesus. This is a true saying, to be completely accepted and believed: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. I am the worst of them, but God was merciful to me in order that Christ Jesus might show his full patience in dealing with me, the worst of sinners, as an example for all those who would later believe in him and receive eternal life. To the eternal King, immortal and invisible, the only God—to him be honor and glory forever and ever! Amen.”

“Grace on Display” By In Touch Ministries:

“Even the worst of sinners is welcome to receive God's extravagant mercy and love.”

“Paul described himself as the worst of sinners and as someone to whom the Lord had expressed His favor and love (1 Tim. 1:16 NIV). How could he be both? That’s the power of God’s grace: Though sinners, we become spiritually alive and receive a new purpose for living.

After Paul met the Savior, he cared deeply about those who did not yet know God, and he also desired to help Christians grow in their faith. For the rest of his life, he shared the gospel, encouraged fellow believers, and met the needs of others. He acted as God’s ambassador to the Gentiles, and his letters became biblical wisdom for future generations.

Through the transforming work of the Holy Spirit, Paul began to display more and more Christlike qualities. In his writings, we see compassion, great humility, and appreciation for God’s blessings. Only the grace of God could enable a well-educated and influential man to count all his credentials a “loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8).

Paul’s life is an example of God working through sinners and transforming them. The Holy Spirit seeks to do the same for you and me. Are you allowing God’s favor and love to work within you?”

[Photo by Jametlene Reskp at Unsplash]

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bethanythebogwitch · 7 months

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Digimon and Mythology: the Seven Great Demon Lords

Of all the many Digimon groups, none are more notorious than the Seven Great Demon Lords. Among the most powerful of all Digimon, they are the epitome of evil in the Digital World, each one representing one of the seven deadly sins. As long as that sin exists in Digimon, the corresponding Demon Lord will exist. It's even stated that they are transdimensional, each one existing in many parallel worlds throughout the multiverse. The power of the associated sin is divided between each version of the Demon Lord in every universe where they exist. Kill one in one universe, and its power will be divided amongst its counterparts in other universes. This means even killing a Demon Lord is a crime, for though you've helped your universe, every other one will now be worse off for it. The Demon Lords are composed of fallen angel Digimon that rebelled against the Digital World's god in ancient times. Their rebellion failed and they were consigned to the Dark Area, the graveyard of deleted data that serves as the Digital World's hell. Now, each works to fulfill its own agenda while staying out of each other's plans. It is possible that, were they to unite in common cause, their attempted destruction of the Digital World would succeed this time.

Each Demon Lord has a crest associated with them and their sin. These crests contain quite a bit of information about their real-life inspirations. Each crest is a concentric circle. Between the two circles is a series of text reading LEVEL:666 SYSTEM:___ CODE:___. CODE (which is listed twice) lists the Demon lord's sin and SYSTEM lists the demon associated with that sin in Christian demonology. In the inner circle at the top is the symbol used in pre-scientific astrology for one of the seven classical planets (which included the sun and moon as planets). In the middle, taking up most of the crest is the sigil of one of the seven olympian spirits, which I will discuss below. At the bottom is text PURGATORY LEVEL:___, which goes from 1 to 7 and correspond to the level of purgatory associated with that sin in the Purgatorio chapter of Dante's Divine Comedy. Each crest is the color of one of the seven colors of the visual light spectrum. Each Demon Lord also has a sword with a unique design that includes their crest, but these swords don't appear is as much media as the crests.

The olympian spirits mentioned above were featured in several renaissance-era occult traditions that mixed together Christian theology with a variety of new ideas. The spirits were said to rule the 196 provinces of heaven, ruled the natural world in secession, and each was associated with one of the classical planets and the teaching of some kind of knowledge. They are often associated with (though are not) archangels. Each also had a seal. The crests of the Demon Lords each bear the seal of one of the olympian spirits and the symbol of their associated planet.

So the Demon Lords are fallen angels, but what is a fallen angel? The common modern idea of a fallen angel is an angel that sided with the devil when he rebelled against god and was cast into hell, where they now seek to spread evil and may be synonymous with demons. This is the idea that Digimon runs with. This idea has not always been the consensus. The origin of the idea of a fallen angel appears to occur in ancient Jewish texts which are now considered apocryphal by most modern Jews and Christians. These books describe angels called watchers who go to earth and fall for human women, whom they mate with and are then rejected by god. Throughout the history of Judaism, the idea of fallen angels being evil beings (and whether or not they even exist) has come in and out of fashion. It appears to have been in fashion when Christianity branched off, since the devil is described as a fallen angel in canonical texts. The text never actually equated fallen angels and demons, but that has become the general consensus since them. There are a surprising amount of very Christian beliefs that are actually not stated in the Bible (cough trinity cough).

The leader of the Seven Great Demon Lords (in that he's the only one who can get them all to work together) and most powerful member is Lucemon Falldown Mode, Demon Lord of pride. As the name suggests, he is based on Lucifer, the original name of the most common version of the devil myth in Christianity. He started out as Lucemon, the first angel Digimon who lived in the early Digital World, a chaotic place, and brought order and harmony. Lucemon was a good and loving being that, despite bing of the low Child/Rookie level, was so powerful that the Ultimate/Mega level Three Great Angels possess its power divided amongst themselves. For reasons never fully stated, Lucemon rebelled against the Digital World's god and became Lucemon Falldown Mode. Normally, a mode change is the Digimon changing itself without actually evolving, but Lucemon treats mode changes as evolutions instead. It skipped a level to become a Perfect/Ultimate level as FM. This is a level below the other Demon Lords, but it is still the most powerful of the group. Lucemon FM is a contradictory being, possessing both angelic and demonic qualities, as evidenced by it having angel wings on one side of its body and bat wings on the other. It is trapped between its original loving self and a demonic desire to destroy that causes it to have the ultimate goal of destroying the world to create a new one.

Lucemon

Lucemon Falldown Mode

Lucemon can further evolve to Lucemon Satan Mode. In this form, he loses all human features to instead become a gigantic, demonic dragon. It is based on the dragon of the book of revelation. While that dragon had seven horns, Lucemon SM does not. Instead, it has the crests of all the Demon Lords on its wings, a reference to said dragon wearing seven crowns. It carries a globe of shadows called Gehenna that absorbs all attacks, making it impossible to actually harm Lucemon SM. Genenna is the name of a valley in Jerusalem whose name as become associated with a place of divine punishment in Judaism. Despite its power, Lucemon Satan Mode is actually just the shadow of the true form of Lucemon, who resides within the Gehenna globe. This true form, the epitome of Lucemon's evil is Lucemon Larva, which takes the from of an utterly pathetic little worm that can barely do anything. The ultimate evil of the Digital World being a pathetic little bug is definitely some sort of statement on behalf of the Digimon creative team. All the Demon Lords have an x-antibody variant. Lucemon X loses the symbolism of being half angel and half demon and explicitly said to have become omnipotent. Yeah, in the x-antibody setting, evil wins. And people say x-antibody Digimon aren't edgelordy as hell. All the Demon Lord x-antibody forms incorporate their crest into their designs, which is a nice touch.

Lucemon Satan Mode

Lucemon Larva

Ok, so Lucemon is the devil, but who exactly is the devil? Well in the oldest Jewish texts, Satan is not a person, but a title meaning "opposer" or "adversary". The satan was a title given to someone acting an an adversary on God's behalf and certainly was no an enemy of God. The idea of the satan being an individual being was God's enemy is one of many features the ancient Hebrews adopted from Zoroastrianism after the Persians conquered Israel out from under the Babylonians. Zoroastrianism features the idea of the world being caught in a struggle between the good god Ahura Mazda and the evil god Ahriman, a struggle where good will eventually win. The Hebrews folded these ideas into their own religion by making their version of Ahriman a fallen angel and attaching the already existing satan title to him. The name Lucifer being attached to the devil comes from Isaiah 14 (which if you read in context is actually condemning the king of Babylon, not talking about the devil) which refers to astrology, referencing the morning star, another name for Venus. Lucifer is the Latin name for Venus as it appears in the morning and was used when the Bible got translated into other languages. Venus being connected to fallen figures also predates Judaism. Both the Sumerians and the Canaanites had gods associated with Venus (Inanna and Attar, respectively) who descended to the underworld. Lucemon's crest is red and references the olympian spirit Och, who was associated with the sun and was a healer.

Leviamon is the Demon Lord of envy, based on leviathan. It is a colossal red crocodile that slumbers in the depth of the ocean and is so large that it could swallow the Digital World in one bite. When it does wake up, its envy of anything it perceives as greater then it lead it to hatred and violence. Even angelic and other demonic Digimon flee before its power. Lucemon provides the foundation for evil to exist in the Digital World and it is said to have no limits. Leviamon X gains the ability to fly and some of the ugliest art in the franchise. Its crest is light blue (which stands in for indigo in the rainbow) and references the olympian spirit Ophiel, a teacher of art that is associated with Mercury.

Leviamon

Leviamon X

The leviathan is a sea monster appearing the the Hebrew bible. While it is described as a fire-breathing monster, multiple scholars believe that the description given in the book of Job is a highly exaggeration and fantastical description of a Nile crocodile, which would have been one of the most terrifying creatures known to people in the middle east and makes Leviamon's depiction very fitting. Leviathan is often used as a symbolic representation of an obstacle to overcome. According to some literature, at the end of the world it and its counterpart behemoth will be killed and the righteous will eat them. Scholars of comparative religion note the similarity of leviathan to monsters in other nearby cultures, such as the Canaanite Lotan and Sumerian Tiamat. Many of these cultures have creation myths that portray the pre-creation chaos as a sea monster that must be killed for the creation of the world to begin. Said scholars suggest that leviathan comes from a pre-Jewish version of this motif.

Demon is the Demon Lord of wrath. He is the only Demon Lord that got a substantial name change in English, or rather he got two. While the dub of Digimon Adventure 02 uses Daemon, most English media uses the name Creepymon. In a fandom that argues over every name change, you will not find any fans sticking up for Creepymon. Tt's probably the most despised name change in the franchise because of how silly it sounds for such an intimidating and evil Digimon. Because Demon is the lord of wrath, you might think he's a mindless rage monster. This would be a mistake, Demon is actually a brilliant schemer who is plotting to find a way to evolve beyond the Ultimate/Mega level and take over the Digital World. All the Demon Lords are fallen angel Digimon and Daemon is a fallen Seraphimon, the most powerful of the angels. It hates the Digital World's god and seeks revenge for its banishment to the Dark Area. In the mange V-Tamer 01, Demon succeeds at evolving beyond the Ultimate/Mega level, becoming Demon Super Ultimate. Demon X can go beyond even that through the power of being really, REALLY angry. Demon's crest is orange and references the olympian spirit Bethor, who had many treasures and was associated with Jupiter.

Demon

Demon Super Ultimate

Demon X

Demon has been confirmed to be based on a cacodaemon. In Greek, the word "daemon" or "daimon" was a generic term for any spirit with no moral implication. Cacodaemons were daemons who were evil. It was after the translation of the old testament to Greek that the word "daemon" came to be associated with evil. Demon also takes design influences from more monstrous depictions of the devil. It was designed before the Demon Lords as a group were introduced and retroactively included in the group, which is why it doesn't have the same depth of references as the rest and its name is so much more generic.

The Demon Lord of sloth is Belphemon Rage mode. While only its Rage Mode is considered a Demon Lord, Belphemon spends most of its time in Sleep Mode. Belphemon was so powerful and destructive that the Digital World's system forcibly placed it in a sleep mode. While in Sleep Mode, Belphemon can't attack, but its snores are so powerful that other Digimon can be killed just by being near it. Belphemon awaked once every thousand yers (though it can also be awaked early), transforming into Rage Mode. Rage mode is the mindless rage monster that you'd Demon would be, rampaging and killing everything around itself until it is forced back to sleep. Belphemon X is even more destructive, but smarter and capable of leading armies of demonic Digimon. Belphemon's crest is dark blue and references the olympian spirit Phaleg, who was a mighty warrior and associated with Mars.

Belphemon Sleep Mode

Belphemon Rage Mode

Belphemon X

Belphemon's namesake is Belphegor, the demon associated with sloth in Christian demonology. He is said to tempt people into being lazy. Visually, Belphemon is based on Baphomet, a goat-headed demon that has become a popular symbol in multiple occult belief systems. While sometimes believed to be part of Christian demonology, Baphomet was most likely completely made up to slander the Knights Templar by telling people it was a god they worshipped.

The Demon Lord of greed is Barbamon. It is the most cunning of the seven and the foremost schemer. It is able to manipulate the extremely powerful Deathmon (who usually tries to remain neutral) into doing its bidding. While Barbamon preferes to manupulate others into doing its dirty work, it is fully capable of fighting by unleshing the flames of the Dark Area. Barbamon is driven by greed and would happily kill another Digimon just to get a new bauble. Not that he needs it or anything, he just wants it. Barbamon X merges his staff with his had to become an even more powerful sorcerer. Barbamon's crest is violet and references the olympic spirit Aratron, an alchemist associated with Saturn. To address the Elephantmon in the room, Yes, Barbamon is a greedy old man with a long nose. Yes, he looks like a Jewish stereotype. I don't know if those stereotypes are well known in Japan of if they have the same kind of negative connotations they do in the west. Japanese media occasionally uses negative stereotypes like this (for example, many anime and manga series have been criticized for using stereotypical depictions of black people) because they just don't have the same negative connotations there. Either way, it does make me uncomfortable.

Barbamon

Barbamon's namesake is Barbatos, a demon listed in the Lesser Key of Solomon who can understand the language of animals and reveal hidden treasures. The demon in Christian demonology normally associated with greed is Mammon. Digimon had to change it because there was already a Mammon (Mammothmon in english). Barbatos does still have the association with treasure that fits greed. visually, he is based on a wicked wizard.

If you ask Digimon fans what their favorite Demon Lord is, most will reply Beelzebumon, largely due to his role in Digimon Tamers, though him being a badass biker sertainly helps. The english dub shortened his name to Beelzemon, which I prefer. It rolls off the tongue easier. Beelzemon is the Demon Lord of gluttony, which is depicted here as an obsessive desire for more power, usually obtained by killing other Digimon and devouring their data. While cruel and merciless, Beelzemon does have a sense of pride and won't attack those who can't defend themselves. It also dislikes other Digimon who do bully the weak. It rides a motorcycle named Behemoth and dual-wields shotguns names Berenjena. Yes, that is the Spanish word for "eggplant", Digimon gives really random names sometimes. It was later established that the Berenjena were bult by the ultimate smith Vulcanusmon, who gives all his creations Spanish food names for whatever reason. Beelzemon can change into a more powerful form: Beelzemon Blast Mode, where he grows wings and swaps out one Berenjena for an arm-mounted ray gun named "Blaster". Leave the names to Volcanusmon, buddy. You're not very good at this. Despite becoming even more powerful, Beelzemon BM is calmer and less violent, possibly even on the path to redemption. Beelzemon Blast Mode is no longer a member of the Demon Lords. Beelzemon X gains the ability to summon El Evangelio, the sentient flames of the Dark Area that attack and punish sinners. While the flames try to attack Beelzemon X, he is so powerful he can forcibly subdue them and use them as his bullets. Beelzemon's crest is yellow and references the olympian spirit Hagith, who was extremely beautiful and associated with Venus.

Beelzemon

Beelzemon Blast Mode

Beelzemon X

Beelzemon's name comes from Beelzebub, a demon in Jewish and Christian demonology. The name comes from ba'al zebub, which means "lord of the flies". Beelzebub is associated with gluttony in Christian demonology, possibly due to flies feeding on feces. If it eats poop it must be gluttonous. One hypothesis about the origin of the character is that he started as a Philistine god names ba'al zebul, which means "lord of the heavenly dwelling". The Hebrews literally demonized the character and corrupted his name into ba'al zebul.

Last but not least is Lilithmon, Demon Lord of lust. She was given the name Laylamon in the English dub of Xros Wars, but otherwise retains her original name in English. She is a master manipulator that bewitches Digimon into falling toward evil and following her every whim. She is known as the dark goddess as she is kind and generous to evil Digimon, but cruel to and outraged by virtuous one. She perfers to fight by using summoning circles to conjure forth monsters, but it capable of fighting on her own. Her breath is corrosive and the claw on her right arm, the Nazar Nail, will corrode anything it scratches into nothing. Her most notable anime appearance was in Xros Wars where this incrdibly powerful mailator and Demon Lord was demoted into the sexy , incompetent, comic relief minion. One of many reasons I don't like Xros Wars. Fortunately, she got an appearance as a monster of the week in Ghost Game, where she was portrayed as much truer to what she should be. Lillithmon X can now turn ofter Digimon into her puppets and will drain them of their life as they work tirelessly following her will. It's worth noting that there's an unwritten rule of Digimon design that if a Digimon looks like a person in a costume, they will have a helmet or mask or something else that keeps you from seeing their full face. Lucemon and Lilithmon are the only exceptions to this rule. Her crest is green and references the olympian spirit Phul, a healer associated with the moon.

Lillithmon

Lilithmon X

Lilithmon's namesake is Lilith, a figure in Hebrew and Mesopotamian mythology. In Jewish folklore (not official sources, she is considered non-canonical by most Jewish authorities), she is the first wife of Adam, who was banished from the garden of eden for wanting to be treated as an equal to Adam instead of being subservient. After being banished from the garden, she became the first succubus and birthed many demons. A woman wanting to be treated as an equal probably would have been weird to a society as misogynistic as most of those in the ancient world. Lilith may have been an attempt to explain one of the contradictions between the genesis 1 and genesis 2 versions of the creation myth. In genesis 1, men and women (unnamed) are created together while in genesis 2, Adam is created before Eve. Lilith was likely used to explain this discrepancy. She was the unnamed woman created alongside Adam and Eve came later. Lilith likely also comes from older Mesopotamian mythology, which contains a race of feminine nocturnal bird demons called the lilitu. A figure that may be a proto-Lilith appears in the stories of Gilgamesh, where she lives in a magic tree. The demon associated with lust in Christian demonology is Asmodeus. Kind of gives the D&D Asmodeus's ruby rod a new meaning doesn't it? The name of the Nazar Nail comes form the nazar, an eye shaped amulet believed to ward off the evil eye. That doesn't have anything to do with a claw that dissolves thing, but, again, Digimon just gives weird names sometimes.

While the Demon Lords are fearsome on their own, when they come together, they create something immeasurably worse. This is Ogudumon, the super demon lord and fusion of all seven. It is the embodiment of all the sins of the Digital World, which makes it the ultimate evil, but also gives it to ability to atone for all sin. Because all sin exists within it, it can counteract any form of malice or evil from others. Because of this, only a being with no malice in their heart can harm Ogudumon. Ogudumon is a very weird creature, looking like some demonic starfish with seven legs. Each leg has an eye and it also has a head with its own eye. Each leg is impaled with a sword associated with one of the Demon Lords and bears that Demon Lord's crest. Ogudumon X tunrs the legs into tentacles with the powers of all the Demon Lords and its mere presence is destroying the world. Again, x-antibody is the edgelord's Digimon. Like Lucemon Satan mode, Ogudumon is based on the dragon of the book of revelation, but instead of having seven heads, it has (or rather, is) seven legs. Yeah, it's a weird one. Its name comes from the ogdoad, the Greek name for a group of 8 Egyptian gods who were considered to be in balance with each other.

Ogudumon

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mariacallous · 1 month

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On Tuesday, the Supreme Court of the United States will hear oral arguments in a challenge to abortion pill access across the country, including in states where abortion is legal. The stakes for abortion rights are sky-high, and the case is the most consequential battle over reproductive health care access since Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022.

At the center of this fight is mifepristone, a pill that blocks a hormone needed for pregnancy. The drug has been approved by the US Food and Drug Administration for more than two decades, and it’s used to treat some patients with Cushing’s syndrome, as well as endometriosis and uterine fibroids. But its primary use is the one contested now—mifepristone is the first of two pills taken in the first 10 weeks of pregnancy for a standard medication abortion, along with the drug misoprostol.

If the justices side with the antiabortion activists seeking to limit access to mifepristone, it could upend nationwide access to the most common form of abortion care. A ruling that invalidates mifepristone’s approval would open the door for any judge to reverse the FDA approval of any drug, especially ones sometimes seen as controversial, such as HIV drugs and hormonal birth control. It could also have a chilling effect on the development of new drugs, making companies wary of investing research into medicines that could later be pulled from the market.

Pills are now the leading abortion method in the US, and their popularity has spiked in recent years. More than six in 10 abortions in 2023 were carried out via medication, according to new data from the Guttmacher Institute. Since rules around telehealth were relaxed during the Covid-19 pandemic, many patients seeking medication abortions have relied on virtual clinics, which send abortion pills by mail. And it keeps getting more popular: Hey Jane, a prominent telemedicine provider, saw demand increase 73 percent from 2022 to 2023. It recorded another 28 percent spike comparing data from January 2023 to January 2024.

“Telemedicine abortion is too effective to not be in the targets of antiabortion folks,” says Julie F. Kay, a longtime reproductive rights lawyer and director of the advocacy group Abortion Coalition for Telemedicine.

Tomorrow’s argument comes after a long, tangled series of legal disputes in lower courts. The Supreme Court will be hearing two cases consolidated together, including FDA v. Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine, in which a coalition of antiabortion activists filed a suit challenging the FDA’s approval of mifepristone, asking for it to be removed from the market. The Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine is represented by the Alliance Defending Freedom, a right-wing Christian law firm that often takes politically charged cases.

Despite decades of scientific consensus on the drug’s safety record, the Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine has alleged that mifepristone is dangerous to women and leads to emergency room visits. A 2021 study cited by the plaintiffs to back up their claims was retracted in February after an independent review found that its authors came to inaccurate conclusions.

In April 2023, the Trump-appointed judge Matthew Kacsmaryk of the Northern District of Texas issued a preliminary ruling on the FDA case invalidating the agency’s approval of mifepristone. The ruling sent shock waves far beyond the reproductive-rights world, as it had major implications for the entire pharmaceutical industry, as well as the FDA itself; the ruling suggested that the courts could revoke a drug’s approval even after decades on the market.

The US 5th Circuit Court of Appeals narrowed Kacsmaryk’s decision a week later, allowing the drug to remain on the market, but undid FDA decisions in recent years that made mifepristone easier to prescribe and obtain. That decision limited the time frame in which it can be taken to the first seven weeks of pregnancy and put telemedicine access, as well as access to the generic version of the drug in jeopardy.

Following the 5th Circuit ruling, the FDA and Danco Laboratories sought emergency relief from the Supreme Court, asking the justices to preserve access until it could hear the case. In its legal filing, Danco aptly described the situation as “regulatory chaos.”

SCOTUS issued a temporary stay, maintaining the status quo; the court ultimately decided to take up the case in December 2023.

As all this was unfolding, pro-abortion-rights states across the country were passing what are known as shield laws, which protect medical practitioners who offer abortion care to pregnant patients in states where abortion is banned. This has allowed some providers, including the longtime medication-abortion-advocacy group Aid Access, to mail abortion pills to people who requested them in states like Louisiana and Arkansas.

Though the oral arguments before the Supreme Court begin on Tuesday, it will likely be months before a ruling. Court watchers suspect a decision may be handed down in June. With the US presidential election in the fall, the ruling may become a major campaign issue, especially as abortion access helped galvanize voters in the 2022 midterms.

If the Supreme Court agrees with the plaintiffs that mifepristone should be taken off the market, some in the pharmaceutical industry worry that it will undermine the authority of the FDA, the agency tasked with reviewing and approving drugs based on their safety and efficacy.

“This case isn't about mifepristone,” says Elizabeth Jeffords, CEO of Iolyx Therapeutics, a company developing drugs for immune and eye diseases. Jeffords is a signatory on an amicus brief filed in April 2023 that brought together 350 pharmaceutical companies, executives, and investors to challenge the Texas district court’s ruling.

“This case could have easily been about minoxidil for hair loss. It could have been about Mylotarg for cancer. It could have been about measles vaccines,” Jeffords says. “This is about whether or not the FDA is allowed to be the scientific arbiter of what is good and safe for patients.”

Greer Donley, an associate professor of law at the University of Pittsburgh and an expert on abortion on the law, doesn’t think it’s likely that the court will revoke mifepristone’s approval entirely. Instead, she sees two possible outcomes. The Supreme Court could dismiss the case or could undo the FDA’s decision in 2023 to permanently remove the in-person dispensing requirement and allow abortion by telehealth. “This would be an even more narrow decision than what the 5th Circuit did, but it would still be pretty devastating to abortion access,” she says.

The Supreme Court could also decide that the plaintiffs lack a right to bring the case to court, says David Cohen, a professor of law at Drexel University whose expertise is in constitutional law and gender issues. “This case could get kicked out on standing, meaning that the plaintiffs aren't the right people to bring this case,” he says. “If most of the questions are about standing, that will give you a sense that that's what the justices are concerned about.”

As the current Supreme Court is considered virulently antiabortion, reproductive-health-care workers are already preparing for the worst. Some telehealth providers have already floated a backup plan: offering misoprostol-only medication abortions. This is less than ideal, as the combination of pills is the current standard of care and offers the best results; misoprostol on its own can cause additional cramping and nausea. For some providers who may have to choose between misoprostol-only or nothing, it’s better than nothing.

Abortion-rights activists have no plans to give up on telehealth abortions, regardless of the outcome of this particular case. “Let us be clear, Hey Jane will not stop delivering telemedicine abortion care, regardless of the outcome of this case,” says Hey Jane’s CEO and cofounder, Kiki Freedman.

“They’re not going to stuff the genie back in the bottle,” Kay says.

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sepublic · 1 year

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The Owl House is about many, many things. It’s about neurodivergence, weirdness, not fitting in and being left out. It’s about finding a community of others like you. It’s about being your own person, but also wanting to be a part of something, and balancing these seemingly paradoxical things. It’s about how everyone is alike and similar to each other, but also each person is wholly unique and irreplaceable.

Everyone has their own story, we all think we’re special or more better in some way than the rest. There is no destiny, but people have the power to choose and decide for themselves. We can all mess up and do something wrong, but what truly prevents us from getting better isn’t circumstance, it’s the refusal to improve; Just deciding to do so and taking that first step forward is all you need to begin.

It’s about disability, about not fitting up to a certain standard and that’s okay, even if you’d also like to do that. It’s knowing what you’re good at and discovering that, and it not having to fit other people’s definitions of what’s meaningful. It’s about learning and loving and doing things for their own sake, not as a means to an end, it’s about the value of art and how it makes us humans.

We have powerful relationships with stories. They can heal us, inspire us, motivate us. But they can cloud and delude people, set them down paths of arrogance and solipsism. Stories mean a lot, especially to the neurodivergent, to those who fit in, and it can be seen as cringey or too much, too overwhelming, but no those feelings are valid, even if people must be responsible about how they express them. Stories can do so much for us, but they aren’t everything either; Reality is just as important and necessary to engage with.

It’s about different ways of thinking and learning, of doing things, and how they’re all valid. Different existences, diversity, a wide variety of experiences, and how could you want to make the world smaller by making it more monotonous? But you must approach differences with respect and understanding, it’s exciting to engage in something new, but you must be the difference between a colonizer and an immigrant. It’s a defiance to conformity but a reminder to mind others around you. Be kind, for even if others take it for granted, compassion does well in the long run.

Sometimes kindness won’t work for some people, but ultimately we must counter Christian ideas of retributive justice, guilt, and punishment in order to prioritize healing and rehabilitation. Restorative justice is what will build the world back up, let it heal. There is no fate, no greater God or will, it’s just people interacting together, sometimes trapping themselves in a cycle of their own making, but still people.

People aren’t above nature, nor are they separate; Do not seek to control or tame others, be it that you don’t understand and assume foreign, or those you do notice commonality. You can’t make people do things, only yourself, but you can give them the freedom and support to decide better. Forgiveness is not mandatory either, if you truly want to do better. You are not the hero and that’s why you can forgive yourself for not fixing everything on your own.

Co-exist with nature, with different things and their own ways of existing, instead of trying to justify them as a natural resource to exploit. It’s about environmentalism, sowing seeds for more to come, instead of just taking. It’s about a cycle of kindness where you put things in and hope what comes out, the next generation, does even better for you; Rather than a cycle of pain where you spread and project that, and refuse to acknowledge people for who they are.

It’s about people overlooked in real life; People of color, the queer, the neurodivergent. It’s about non-conventional family structures, found family; The bonds we make and choose, because things don’t have to be given to us at the start of life. We can earn and build it for ourselves just as much, if necessary.

There’s perception, learning to trust in your own abilities and those of others. Learning to be positive about your body and its appearance and alleged shortcomings. It’s about seeing people for they are as a whole, not something you whittle and simplify them down into. Parents want the best for their children, but they were children once and are just as flawed and messy as the rest of us.

Accept change, accept things even if they’re bad, like death or disabilities, because sometimes you just have to learn to live with it. You can’t hide in an insincere fantasy, hollow and bereft of substance; Make real connections and experiences. But you can also strive for things to be better, and you can recover. Wounds heal, even if scars might linger.

Chance can cause anything, you can never be too certain about what comes your way, how people will impact you, and you’ll impact them. It’s how people live beyond death through the influence of their actions, and that is more alive than any failed resurrection or clone. Give freely, just because others suffer less than you, doesn’t mean they should suffer at all. Be the change you want to be, take initiative.

People wander around, searching for homes. People are cast out or lost, but find new places to belong. Nobody deserves to be in a cage, nor lost. We’re all seeking for those connections, pre-existing or to be made. Some places you won’t fit in, some people won’t accept or be interested, and that’s okay because there’s always someone out there.

It’s about wanting to be special but also understood, for people to see and learn about you in good faith, to give you the time of day. It’s reciprocal love, about healthy boundaries in relationships. You are more than what you do for others, and locking them out to deny your pain will only hurt them in the long run, too; To love yourself is to love others. It’s okay to be selfish and even angry, it doesn’t have to come at the expense of others, and sometimes you have to prioritize yourself over those who do you harm. Wanting things isn’t inherently harmful to others and can co-exist with wanting things for others too.

Think critically, question what you’re told, come to your own conclusions. Defy binaries, things aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive nor paradoxical. Don’t settle for singular choices, it’s the fine yet real line between indecisiveness and openness. Let people try new things while giving them the space and support to back out or change their mind. Friendships exist between generations, among them, kids deserve to have other kids as their friends, and mentors.

It’s about how the loss of a parent leaves you alone and grieving. Wondering about them. How they can impart a final gift onto you, something to revolve your whole life around because it’s your world and it’s them. Grief can manifest into betrayal over feeling abandoned; Or a desire to honor and live in their name. It’s hard to say goodbye and find the right words, language can affirm so much.

It’s about the ordeals of growing up and coming of age, realizing how terrible or difficult things can be, but confronting that instead of retreating to emerge stronger. History changes but also repeats itself, the cycle renews.

Fiction and reality have a divide, but they can intersect, or invade one another. It’s about making things real, while recognizing when they aren’t. But fantasy is an example of what could be, and that’s the hope that inspires a kid to keep moving forward. People deserve a chance and that’s why judgment should be reserved, as we’re all still making mistakes and learning.

It’s about connecting with the world around you, both the people and the place itself, and loving and understanding them both for who and what they are. It’s about finding a home, which can be many things, as long as it makes you feel like you belong. That’s why it’s called The Owl House.

#the owl house #themes

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krysanthii · 4 months

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I find Olrox to be a interesting character because he always speaks in double meaning which everything can be put into interpretation. For example: first episode; “Don’t listen to her Richter there is always a choice.”

Kinda found it strange why Olrox spoke to Richter first and even at all! Why communicate with the kid if he was solely there to kill Julia? Than it’s followed up years later where Richter pulls the same question on Olrox too. Perhaps he gave Julia a choice between sparing his lover’s life or he’ll hunt her down and kill her. Or if he hurt her son which is unlikely because I don’t see Olrox hurting kids.

Another example with Olrox seeking Mizrak out in the courtyard when he straddles Mizrak and playfully says: “let’s do this again, somewhere more comfortable”

That did itch my brain a little and I assume it was just queer baiting or a funny innuendo for the fan service or that Olrox wishes to discuss some where comfortable that is environmentally friendly because he is a vampire and they were out in the sun. Next scene they were in bed and oh— OH! congratulations on the show writers for not pulling back any punches! In the inn scene it’s far more insightful when Olrox drops in that “there are demons that were gods and some that still are” which Mizrak throws a hissy fit that there is ONE God. He doesn’t humor Olrox on that any further and stalks off. Olrox walks into the window watching him leaving while standing around direct sunlight and scoffs at Mizrak’s “one god” as if there is only ONE and that his only one god can protect him. Which brings to mind that Olrox being the avatar of Quetzalcoatl is far stronger and completely on the nose. As if saying Mizrak’s only one god will not protect him and it’s Olrox that protected Mizrak in the big fight in the end.

In the alley Drolta finds Olrox eating his Happy Meal and asks if he likes “striking terror in the hearts of children.” Which Olrox assumes the scrappy boy that ran off and he prefers to eat zesty blue bloods from the nobles. Drolta clarifies she meant Richter which he responds to “oh, him.” Richter was not in his mind at all. Richter didn’t have make much of an impact compared to how Olrox had on Richter. He calls Richter “SON of an old foe.” He doesn’t see Richter as a foe or enemy. He sort of smiles and is blasé about it. Julia was his enemy who killed his lover and his revenge died with her. Richter was simply collateral damage and not his enemy. So he doesn’t have any ill will towards Richter.

Another with Drolta and Olrox having a mid night stroll in the cemetary when she talks about creating a new world. Those can be two different things. One of them can be and OBVIOUSLY the fall of the Aztec empire where conquistadors wanted to convert the Aztec empire to Christianity and Catholic. Reading back in history the Aztec Empire became New Spain and the rest of South America like Colombia, Ecuador, and Venezuela were combined into a really powerful empire from New Spain or Viceroyalty of New Spain to The New Grenada and later The Grand Colombia. But that’s like years later.

His interactions with her are my favorite when he looks up at the sky and knows when the sun is coming up. Nor does he clarify when Drolta says vampires feel it because it’s dread. Olrox looks unbothered and asks her if she should be inside and concerned for her safety. Olrox si like Alucard and can be in the sun because of being the avatar of Quetzalcoatl. She asks flirtatiously where Olrox is staying while Olrox answers reciprocates the flirtation and says he likes “to keep his ear on the ground.” As if answering he likes to be a fly on the wall and to go unnoticed while watching everyone else tear down each other’s throats.

The most obvious part we see Olrox a little distress and and looking a bit vulnerable when he’s in the presence of Erzsebet. Olrox tends to butter people up with his interactions with playful banter but he doesn’t even hide his disgust on Erzsebet and doesn’t even let Drolta finish her introduction. His eye twitches whenever Erzsebet he refers to “dragon.”

Olrox is not a dragon but a serpent and dragons are a European creatures so referring Olrox a dragon is not only offensive but erasing his heritage and culture and who he is. Olrox is the avatar of Quetzalcoatl AKA the Feathered Serpent and it’s literally on the nose. Olrox gave a teeny tiny half ass bow when Drolta told him to and gave a full bow when Erzsebet showed off her glowy ball. The sheer disgust on his face not only tells me he had done this before. A lot of times from many conquerers he had to swallow his pride and bow. Anger, humiliation and that scathing look tells it all. He was forced to help these conquistadors to colonize his empire and slaughter his people and he’s reliving it again.

Another can of worms where Olrox pulls a Zuko officially joining on their side to take down Erzsebet. He has an ulterior motive and doesn’t want the world to be in eternal darkness. Olrox isn’t here to fight Richter at all and has nothing against him so their animosity is one sided. Olrox keeps a safe distance but not for himself but also Richter so he won’t get spooked. There is no audience to show off his influence like he had in cellar he was basically flirting or fucking with him. Calling Richter “Little Boy Belmont,” to unnerve him establish dominance and control of the situation so this fight won’t continue any further and mostly to protect Mizrak because Richter and Mizrak were about to brawl. Olrox was putting on a big show to showcase his powers and influence for the Abbot and Drolta to witness. Olrox has a reputation all the way across the ocean so he wanted to make a good impression and all he had to do was stand there and he made Richter Scooby Doo Run out of the cellar. The fight was neutralized and went on his merry way.

Olrox isn’t here to hurt Richter both physically or psychologically like that stunt in the cellar. It’s just them now in the woods. When Olrox says “I could’ve killed you three times by now, ironic I think for the both of us I need a Belmont.” I think there is more history between them that we did not see. Maybe it was with his mother and Olrox and Julia were friends or allies way back when. Olrox treated her with respect and calling her by her full name before the fight and was only here to kill Julia. He says he needs a Belmont but WHICH Belmont? It could be any Belmont! Julia was his go-to person before he killed her and Juste was in France and Richter was a child. Now he’s grown up and a fully realized hunter he’s capable of helping Olrox. I really don’t know what Olrox meant killing Richter “three times.” Maybe as a child, or in the cellar or now during the fight in the woods. There is an unspoken debt between Olrox and the Belmonts and during his long life he knew the Belmonts really well and had contact with them in some way.

Olrox is so mysterious of what he says or does and it isn’t subtle because there is always double meaning behind his words.

#castlevania olrox #castlevania #Olrox analysis #castlevania nocturne

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queerprayers · 5 months

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do you have any tips for protestant christians who want to practice advent in a more ritualistic way?

Happy Advent, beloved! I love this question!

Hopefully this isn't too obvious but just in case: Advent wreaths were originally a Lutheran tradition and they're my favorite holiday ritual! I'm in the minority in that my church's Advent color is blue, but many people's are purple and pink. The Wikipedia page lists some different traditions—some people give a meaning to each candle. Generally people will have five and light one for each week of Advent and then one for Christmas. Advent is cut short this year (Advent 4 and Christmas Eve are the same day) but it's still never too late to start participating in a season! One day of mindful Advent is more precious than weeks of half-hearted Advent.

I have blue and gold candle holders, but many places sell Advent-specific candles and holders, or you can just get four or five candles (real or fake) from around the house and arrange them! I haven't gotten around to it yet this year but I like gathering evergreen branches from outside and arranging them in more of a proper wreath, but a fake wreath would work too, or just candles on a cloth or table.

I also saw this 20-minute Advent candle set, where you can light a candle each day and let it burn down while praying/meditating/writing. You could set a timer and do something similar with any type of candle. Candles are a staple of winter holidays for a reason—light and warmth, obviously, and there's something about having a natural source of those things existing in your house when so much of the rest of your life may be artificial. I thank God my house has heating, but I also seek out the ways this earth provides what we need, if we only know where to look.

Some form of counting down to Christmas is a main theme of Advent traditions, and I don't think this is a bad thing at all, although I do see my Advent wreath as more of a fulfillment than a countdown. I always encourage people to take at least a moment for just Advent. We could look at Lent as a countdown to Easter, but we might miss the journey. And after all, Holy Week and Easter is the culmination of our calendar, not Christmas. We are still in the beginning.

My family doesn't usually put up a Christmas tree until around the 23rd, and I don't listen to Christmas carols until Christmas Eve. I don't refuse to participate in secular/cultural Christmas events/traditions before then, but Christmas as religious practice is twelve days for us, starting the 25th. I have time to make room, to prepare. I'm listening to Advent music now, to ground myself in time. I don't say this because I think everyone should necessarily do this (by all means, find room for joy wherever you can), but because an Advent value that I find meaning in is patience. Christmas exists, joy exists, salvation exists—but what happens in the time before those things? What happens if we're not there yet, if we perhaps have to wait our whole lives? We do not know the future, but there are things we can see, and even more things we can trust in. How can we practice hoping for it all?

This year I'm reading Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (the last gift my grandfather gave me), and it's marking my days in a similar way candles do—connecting me with the world, setting aside time, bringing me back to why I exist the way that I do. There are countless devotional/topical books out there—as well as Watch for the Light, I would recommend Preparing for Christmas by Richard Rohr and Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation by Luci Shaw (which can double as a Lenten/Easter book as well). I'm also looking forward to reading in future years Celtic Advent by David Cole and WinterSong by Madeleine L'Engle & Luci Shaw.

If you don't usually attend worship services, Advent is a lovely time to start—it's the new year, after all! My city has a caroling night downtown, and you could look for similar events in your community. You could also start new worship traditions—my uncle hosts a Christmas carol singing circle every year, and his apartment is squished full of happy people, some Christian and some not, singing until the neighbors complain.

Speaking of the new year, that's what this is for many of us, and one way we can acknowledge that is by thinking about the past year and/or the year to come. What was last Advent like for you? Where are you now? Why are you seeking out more ritual this year? Are there future seasons in the church year that you want to further observe? What joy and grief and community do you see on the road ahead of you? What can you not even begin to imagine? Advent can be a beginning for all of it, if you let it. And Advent is the ultimate time to contemplate the past and the future—as we remember Jesus coming two thousand years ago, as we experience him every day, and as we look to a second coming that none of us understand but can occasionally stand to ponder.

There are the little things, too—writing Christmas cards is very ritualistic for me, as well as making gifts, and preparing for Christmas in a material way, especially if it's for others, can be a lovely ritual! Volunteering, preparing a home, creating, writing, taking a walk--anything, really, can be a ritual if we do it purposely. We don't always have to add something to our life—we can live something we already live in a new way.

And then there's the other kind of practice: emptying. We talk about this most when we encounter Lent, but I think there's a place for it here, too (and always). I don't mean abandon our responsibilities/hobbies/relationships, but most of us have too much. It is a blessing to have, but it can also be a blessing to let go. Many of us overwork ourselves during December, at work, at school, financially, socially, around the house. I've learned to look at busy-ness as a gift, but I also work to not fill up my life until there's no room for the season. There are people who fast during Advent, but there are other ways to make space in our lives to fill up with God, and Advent encourages us to spend time in that space. God is coming, a thief in the night, a late guest, an overlooked baby. Do you have room? Do you still have the attention span and energy? Will you even notice?

Christmas is many things to many people, and preparing for it is similarly diverse. I'm carrying a lot of grief with me this year, from both family and world tragedy. I know a lot of people who feel pressured to be happy during the holidays, and that breaks my heart—and it also makes me wonder how much having a ritualistic Advent since I was a kid has helped me avoid that. Happiness was never a value my family held—it was beautiful, but not inherently holy. Emotions come and go. Love exists infinitely, and patience and hope can be practiced and lived out regardless.

There are so many traditions, especially in the US, that leave people hungering for ritual and material practice—I've found a lot of physicality in Lutheranism, similar to my Catholic family, but I know there are those who have never really had that. When we seek ritual, it's often because there's something (or many things) in our practice either growing up or currently that we don't have and seek—whether that's the sensory experiences of incense and stained glass, the daily habits of rosary or novena, the liturgical practice of seasons and services, choral and hymn-singing, contemporary music, contemplation, academia, casualness, relatability, mystery, social justice, huge gatherings, tiny meetings, or any of the other Christian experiences that usually traditions don't or can't have all at once. When we seek ritual, we seek what we don't have, but often find what we already have as well. So many things are rituals that we take for granted because we've always had them or gotten used them. Seek new rituals, and seek what is already in your life that you can decide to do. Take your traditions, and find the traditions you didn't receive but hunger for, and make a life. You have time—Advent happens every year, and as far as we know and can hope, we will have many more Advents.

Ultimately, ritual is doing it all on purpose. It's finding rhythm. So much of our lives are accidental, and this can be beautiful and holy, but you have come seeking the things we invite. And yet even things that happen to us can become purposeful, as Mary teaches us: "Let it be with me according to your word." Whether she had a choice is sometimes discussed, but to me often the more relevant question is how she dealt with what came her way. Ritual is taking what we are given and doing it on purpose, and Advent gives us a long tradition, passed down through generations, of active waiting. We have no choice but to wait for the future, but today we will do it with our eyes open. Act as if the world is going to turn upside down—and you will notice it is, all the time.

In Watch for the Light, Henri Nouwen writes, "A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will manifest itself to us. Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The moment is empty. But patient people dare to stay where they are. Patient living means to live actively in the present and wait there. Waiting, then, is not passive. It involves nurturing the moment, as a mother nurtures the child that is growing in her."

Whatever rituals you invite in or find that you already have, however you nurture the moments that make up this season, I pray they make room in your heart for what God can bring. As Rilke tells us (in teaching how to approach art, but what else are the mysteries of this season?), "Everything is gestation and then bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of a feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity."

<3 Johanna

#asks #if you can give lutherans nothing else. you gotta hand it to us for advent wreaths. we kinda went off with those

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