#also his sister is a senior official in the church which is... something

[xythlia]

it's always really funny to me when ppl find out neil gaiman is a scientologist

[ghoulsstolemyheart]

Bite Back - Part 1

Vampire!Terzo, fake relationship, eventual smut, blood drinking, blood kink

Papa Emeritus the Third has a secret and, unfortunately, you are the latest person to find out the truth about him. You will find that this forbidden knowledge brings you closer to your Papa than you ever thought possible.

1.7k words

There were rumours about the abbey that the brothers Emeritus weren’t exactly human. It started as a joke among some of the younger siblings, with no one really sure exactly how old Primo was, never mind Papa Nihil. They would call him all sorts. Some even said he and the other men of the bloodline sold their souls to the Devil for eternal life. But, as is the way with rumours, there was a hint of truth to the whispers of the siblings. 

Terzo, the youngest Emeritus and the most popular among the siblings, was exceedingly charming. All he had to do was smile and every sibling in the room wouldn’t be able to tear their gaze from him. But for all his charisma, there was something dark lurking in him that was far from his devotion to the church and Satanus. He refused to let any of the siblings enter his chambers, instead having the ghouls work as his assistants and housekeepers when they weren’t out on tour. A fact that greatly disappointed many of the clergy that longed to spend some quality time with their Papa. It had also been noted that he seemed particularly sensitive to sunlight, a trait he shared with his brother Secondo, preferring to wear sunglasses most of the time he had to venture outside. 

You had been watching him for quite some time. Intrigued by this new Papa who seemed so much more secretive than his brothers. Sure, you found him attractive, but it was his strange behaviour that you found most alluring. As a senior Sister of Sin, you were kept up to date with a lot of the goings on in the abbey, be it official business or just gossip whispered to you behind a hand as you stood in the chapel waiting for a service to begin. You heard all the stories about him and his brothers. How they never seemed to eat during meals, that years ago siblings had reportedly seen ghouls carrying blood soaked sheets from the papal chambers in the early hours of the morning while the rest of the abbey slept. For the most part you didn’t believe them. Especially the stories from the novices. Joining the Satanic Church can have strange effects on the psyche if you aren’t truly ready for it. But still, you couldn’t help but grow more and more curious about him after every new story and piece of gossip was repeated to you.

One morning as you waited for breakfast to begin a strange nervousness seemed to have overcome the abbey. Siblings were whispering to each other as you entered the dining hall and you couldn’t help but notice Papa’s absence as Sister Imperator stood impatiently at the head of the table, arms crossed.

“What’s going on?” You asked one of the sisters you often worked with. She turned to you with a frown on her face, usually it was her asking you that question.

“You haven’t heard? One of the novices disappeared in the middle of the night. Door locked, none of her things gone, no sign of forced entry, just vanished.”

You frowned. The current class of noviciates was fairly small and you’d gotten to know them all by name. None of them seemed the type to run away in the dead of night.

“Which one? Do you know her name?”

“It was Sara,” one of the other sisters spoke up from across the table, “the one whose parents enrolled her. She never wanted to be here in the first place, I’m not surprised she left.”

“I heard Papa caught her sneaking out, tore her to shreds like it was nothing.” Another sister hissed behind her hand at you.

“You can’t believe those stories, sister.” You laughed, but her eyes conveyed a surprising fear that told you yes, she did believe them.

Suddenly, the whispers stopped and you turned your head to see Papa walking through the doors. He was in one of his black suits instead of his full robes and his paint looked smudged around the eyes as if he had been rubbing at them. To tell the truth, he looked awful. 

Sister Imperator stared daggers at him as he slowly took his place between her and Nihil at the head of the table, clearing her throat before she addressed the clergy.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, one of our noviciates has left us. Unfortunately, she took a bad turn in the night and has been sent back home to her parents where she will be well cared for. I can only ask that you keep her in your prayers to the Dark Lord.”

A murmur started up at Imperator’s announcement. Sure, being sent home because of some serious illness explained her disappearance, but it didn’t explain why all of her belongings were still in her room. You could only hope that she was alright.

The rumours continued throughout the day as you and the siblings went about your daily chores. You overheard the class of noviciates talking about Papa and all the stories they’d been hearing, it made you roll your eyes. At least the gossip made for an interesting backing track to your long day of cleaning. You were joined by a couple of other sisters as you dusted and mopped every inch of the abbey, the whispers about Papa and the ill fated novice following you all the while.

It was late when you and the other siblings finally finished cleaning, just barely catching the tail end of dinner. Peels of laughter came from the head of the table and you looked over to see Papa with a wide smile on his face. He was talking with one of the cardinals, reclining in his chair with a glass of wine. When you saw him like this it was hard to believe people said he was a killer, so relaxed and easygoing compared to how he’d been that morning. It took a moment for you to register that his gaze had fallen on you, one eyebrow slightly raised in amusement as he watched you slowly realise that you’d been staring. Mortified, you turned your attention to your plate and tried to act like you hadn’t just been caught looking at him like that. An almost wistful look in your eyes.

That night you fell asleep the moment your body flopped down on the bed, muscles aching from the long day of work, habit still on as you lay atop the covers. You regretted it when you woke in the middle of the night shivering a little against the cold air and you hauled yourself up to get changed. As you pulled one of your warmer nightgowns over your head and smoothed down the skirt, you heard distant footsteps echoing down the hall towards your door. A hushed conversation approached with them and you were intrigued as to who would be walking the halls at this time of night.

Stepping closer to the door, you tilted your head to better hear the whispers.

“It isn’t enough, Terzo, you know that.”

Sister Imperator’s voice insisted, perhaps the most concerned you’d ever heard her.

“And still, Sister, I tell you I will not continue to feed on my own flock.” Terzo was stern and you could hear him much clearer than Imperator as he made little effort to keep quiet.

“Keep your voice down!” She hissed. Their footsteps picked up as they began to walk quicker down the hall and away from your room, their conversation fading as they turned a corner.

You cursed yourself for what you did next. Curiosity getting the better of you, you waited until the footsteps were far enough and slowly unlatched your door, creeping out into the hallway on quiet feet and padded after them. They were going in the direction of Sister Imperator’s office, so that’s where you went. The door to her office closed just as you rounded the corner and you waited until you heard the lock click before tiptoeing over to listen in on their conversation.

“Why must you argue with me, Terzo? You know it’s for your own good. For the good of the church!”  

“What good will a church be with no clergy if you get your way? How easy will it be to cover up these disappearances when we have less and less siblings for you to choose from? How easy will it be, sister, when their families come in search of their children, supposedly kept safe under our roof? Tell me that!”

“I already told you to keep your damn voice down!”

There was a tense silence for a while, finally broken by the clinking of glass as someone poured a drink.

“What do you suggest we do then, Papa?” There was a mocking tone in Imperator’s voice as she spoke, the kind that would get you or any of the other siblings a harsh telling off if you ever spoke to Papa like that.

“We could stop killing them. Keep one around as a… donor if you will.”

She scoffed at Terzo’s suggestion and you could hear another drink being poured.

“Yes, Terzo, because there’s a plethora of siblings just waiting to be your living blood bag.” 

“It’s that or you keep slaughtering my flock, Sister. Do not think that you are above such a fate.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the gasp that escaped your lips. The voices inside ceased as they obviously heard your surprise and for a moment you stood there frozen. It took everything in you to urge your legs to start moving, running down the corridor not even thinking about the noise you made as your bare feet slapped against the marble. As you turned the corner you could hear the door to Imperator’s office creak open and you hoped that whoever had opened it hadn’t seen you.

You didn’t sleep the rest of that night. You couldn’t. The memory of that conversation paired with the fear that one of them would knock on your door kept your mind racing. Not even the soft, melodic chirping of the birds could calm you down. Images of that poor novice being ripped to shreds flashed in your mind and you thought back to dinner. How Papa drank his way through an entire bottle of wine without so much as getting tipsy. Now that you thought about it, the wine he drank seemed different to that which you and the rest of the clergy drank. It had looked a much deeper, richer shade of red, clinging to the sides of his glass and staining his lips unlike the wine you poured for the siblings beside you.

Read the fic as it’s updated on AO3 here!

[causeiwanttoandican]

Holy crap!

The Telegraph- Camilla Tominey

'She wanted drama': The inside story of the rift between Harry and Meghan and The Firm

As the Sussexes give their tell-all Oprah Winfrey interview, royal insiders reveal the 'other side of the story'

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor5 March 2021 • 9:00pm

There was something distinctly familiar about the Oprah Winfrey teaser in which Prince Harry declared: "My biggest concern was history repeating itself."

The words, due to be aired during the Duke and Duchess of Sussexes' tell-all interview on Sunday night, bore an uncanny resemblance to the statement released by Harry's communications secretary, Jason Knauf, in November 2016 after the Sunday Express had revealed that the Prince was dating the American actress.

Confirming that "his girlfriend Meghan Markle" had been "subject to a wave of abuse and harassment", the statement criticised the "racial undertones" of newspaper coverage, adding: "Prince Harry is worried about Ms Markle's safety and is deeply disappointed that he has not been able to protect her. This is not a game – it is her life and his."

The unprecedented salvo created two important narratives around the former Suits star – it formally confirmed her status as the woman in Harry's life but also positioned her, in the eyes of the palace and the public, as the victim at the heart of a media "storm". As the statement suggested, a line had been "crossed".

But the tirade "by the Communications Secretary to Prince Harry" also put Mr Knauf in a compromising position. How was the former director of corporate affairs for the Royal Bank of Scotland going to be able to handle media relations for a couple when the Prince had so publicly made plain their deep hostility towards the press?

Almost exactly two years later, the 39-year-old spin doctor would submit a a bullying claim accusing Meghan of driving two personal assistants out of the household and undermining the confidence of a third staff member.

The Sussexes have denied that Harry pleaded with Mr Knauf not to pursue it, claiming the couple are the victims of a calculated smear campaign based on harmful misinformation. They said the Duchess was "saddened by this latest attack on her character, particularly as someone who has been the target of bullying herself and is deeply committed to supporting those who have experienced pain and trauma".

Those highlighting the "outrageous bullying" say they want to "tell the other side of the story" to the picture expected to be painted by the Duchess on the Oprah special of her "almost unsurvivable" time in the Royal family. "Anyone who is a victim can't bear to watch it," said one.

The couple's lawyers insist Buckingham Palace is manipulating the press to peddle a "wholly false narrative" –notwithstanding the fact that the complainants no longer work in the royal household and the lack of palace action has now prompted an internal inquiry.

The Telegraph has spoken to a number of well-placed insiders who witnessed first-hand the turmoil within the royal household from Meghan's arrival as Prince Harry's girlfriend to the couple's decision to stand down as working royals last year.

All spoke on the condition of anonymity amid claims they had been operating in a "climate of fear", where employees were routinely "humiliated" in front of their peers and repeatedly subjected to "unreasonable demands" by both Meghan and Harry.

Unwilling to play a supporting role

It was not until October 2017, a year after Mr Knauf's unprecedented statement that Meghan gave an interview to Vanity Fair in which she declared of her relationship with Harry: "We're in love. I'm sure there will be a time when we will have to come forward and present ourselves and have stories to tell, but what I hope people will understand is that this is our time."

The public did not have to wait long. Just a month later, the couple announced their engagement with a photocall in the sunken garden at Kensington Palace and an interview with the BBC's Mishal Husain in which Harry described his fiancee as "another team player as part of the bigger team".

Yet behind palace gates, it was quickly becoming apparent that Meghan had no intention of she and Harry being seen as the "supporting act" to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, despite their seniority in the royal pecking order.

That Christmas, determined to walk side by side with William and Kate to Sandringham's St Mary Magdalene Church, rather than several steps behind, they were pictured together as the so-called "Fab Four".

The Cambridges invited the Sussexes to spend the festive period at their nearby bolthole, Anmer Hall, an experience Meghan spoke of fondly afterwards. "Meghan was very positive about it," said a former aide.

Two months later, the quartet appeared at their first official event together at the inaugural forum of their Royal Foundation – a highly choreographed event described by one royal insider as "designed to send a message that they would be working as a team. It was all very carefully rehearsed beforehand".

Disagreements with the Cambridges

After Meghan showcased her years of previous work with "larger NGOs and smaller grassroots organisations", both William and Harry acknowledged that working so closely with loved ones had led to "healthy disagreements" over how to best guide the foundation's work.

"Working as a family does have its challenges, of course it does," Harry said. "But we're stuck together for the rest of our lives."

By now, Kensington Palace staff had already become familiar with a mantra that would come to characterise the run-up to the Sussexes' wedding in May 2018.

"Want Meghan wants, Meghan gets" may have been shouted by Prince Harry to Angela Kelly, the Queen's personal assistant, following a row over a tiara – but royal aides were already well acquainted with the importance of meeting the Duchess's exacting standards.

"Everyone wanted her to be happy because they knew that would make him happy," said one. "Do whatever it takes to make it work for Meghan was the mantra. We all cared deeply about Harry. Contrary to this idea that they weren't supported, we were going to great lengths to accommodate their needs."

So much so that there was an extraordinary incident during the couple's first tour of Scotland when members of the palace PR team "body blocked" Meghan's former adviser Gina Nelthorpe-Cowne during a visit to an Edinburgh cafe in what one former aide described as "the most embarrassing moment of my professional career".

The Duchess had apparently expressed "a reluctance to make eye contact" with Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne, who was reduced to having to post an Instagram shot of her former close friend and client visiting the Social Bites cafe from a considerable distance. "Anyone from the past was a problem," observed the former aide.

Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne's name would later reappear in court documents accusing Meghan's close friend and stylist Jessica Mulroney of "putting pressure on her [Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne] to withdraw or change statements" she had made in an April 2018 interview with the Mail on Sunday.

The defence documents claimed the Sunday newspaper's features editor complained about the intervention to Mr Knauf, who allegedly responded by saying he would ensure "this does not happen again". In the piece, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne described Meghan as: "Picky, not only when it comes to her clothes but also her colleagues, instantly dismissing those who didn’t share her 'vision'."

Describing how the Duchess had "given me a bit of a difficult time" after meeting Harry, she added: "Meghan likes to move on".

When contacted by The Telegraph, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne declined to comment on the incident.

'Email bombardments'

As the world was gearing up for what the LA Times had billed as "a royal wedding for the 21st century", behind palace gates the atmosphere was becoming fraught.

Staff had grown used to "email bombardments" by Meghan and Harry, with one describing how "the last thing we'd do before going to sleep is reply to their messages and the first thing we'd do in the morning is reply to their messages. Weekends, holidays – there were no boundaries. They live on their phones all the time".

Despite publicly claiming they largely ignored the press coverage, in reality the couple were often consumed by it. "They're both very thin-skinned," said one former employee.

Meghan's supporters say staff members "who preferred a more genteel pace" could not keep up with the Duchess's "American work ethic" – with one close friend now suggesting the criticism was racially motivated. "Find me a woman of colour in a senior position who has not been accused of being too angry, too scary, too whatever in the workplace," the friend said.

Yet it was not just palace employees who found themselves on the receiving end of "inescapable screaming and shouting".

Much has been written about the bridesmaids' dress fitting, first revealed in The Telegraph in November 2018, that left the Duchess of Cambridge in tears.

Contrary to subsequent reports that the row concerned Princess Charlotte's tights, what actually happened was that the dress itself did not fit Kate's then nearly three-year-old daughter. According to a well-placed source, "demands were made about when subsequent fittings would be, and Kate left sobbing".

While Meghan's allies suggest that Kate did not make enough of an effort to welcome her future sister-in-law into the royal fold, allies of the Cambridges suggest she "tried to arrange social things" and invited her to watch tennis together but "there was a sense that Meghan never really wanted to be friends".

Those inside the palace concede, however, that the Cambridges can "appear standoffish" and are "often out of contact for extended periods".

Another former royal aide claimed the Duke, particularly, appreciated the "deflection" from his own occasionally demanding behaviour. "Bullying is endemic across all the households," the former aide added.

"The Meghan thing is a disgrace, but it's not in isolation. They cut you out, undermine you, talk down to you. One minute you're in – the next you're persona non grata. Some staff have special protection. I've never witnessed behaviour like it before. I wish I'd never seen behind the curtain."

A reprimand from the Queen

One member of staff afforded "special protection" is Angela Kelly, who has served as the Queen's closest aide since 2002. Rumours of Meghan being dubbed "Duchess Difficult" began to surface around the time it emerged that the Liverpudlian docker's daughter had been given a tongue-lashing by Harry.

Yet what was never accurately reported around the time of "Tiaragate" was that far from being denied the item from the Crown Jewels she wanted, Meghan was in fact given her first choice.

The argument erupted after the Duchess demanded that Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau Tiara be produced for an unscheduled hairdressing appointment.

"Angela told Harry it was priceless and couldn't suddenly be handed over at short notice. He was furious and shouted: 'What Meghan wants, Meghan gets.' Suffice to say it didn't go down too well." So badly, in fact, that the no-nonsense 53-year-old, who has her own fearsome reputation among colleagues, reported the incident to the Queen, prompting a grandmotherly telling off for Harry.

Little did the Prince know at the time that staff had also given him a nickname: "The hostage".

According to one person with first-hand knowledge of the events: "They insisted that they had the same inflation-adjusted budget for the wedding as William and Kate – she got the choir she wanted, the dress, the carriage procession, the tiara – she got everything she wanted but it still wasn't enough.

"She was constantly looking for reasons to say she had been deprived. Also, she wanted drama from the very beginning."

Although the couple wanted their spokespeople to deny it, a story about Meghan requesting air freshener to be sprayed around the "musty" St George's Chapel was true, according to multiple sources.

Even The Kingdom Choir did not get off lightly after the couple changed their song 12 times before they were happy with the arrangement of "Stand By Me". As choir member Karen Gibson revealed: "Gospel music is all about the cherries on top and it's not about stinting on anything. But we got word back that they wanted something a little less, so we did a second version which had an Etta James arrangement but again we had word back that it wasn't right."

The group was then asked to meet Harry and Meghan face to face, before the couple finally settled on an arrangement after 11 previous attempts.

"The wedding was hugely stressful for everyone involved in it," said one former aide. "Staff were spending most of their time having smooth things over with suppliers."

Tears before the big day

The "Markle Debacle", when Meghan's father Thomas pulled out of the wedding at the last minute, only added to the tension as royal aides scrambled to "rescue" the narrative around the "big day" by having the Prince of Wales step in to walk Meghan down the aisle.

Despite Meghan later claiming to ITV's Tom Bradby that "not many people have asked if I'm ok", royal insiders insist they "rallied around" the couple – who were both in tears at times.

The Most Rev Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who officiated the ceremony, is also understood to have given "psychological as well as spiritual" support. The principle leader of the Church of England caused hilarity among his staff by failing to recognise Ms Winfrey at the lunchtime reception at Windsor Castle, asking the US chat show host what she did for a living.

By the time the couple had returned from their honeymoon, relations between the Sussexes, the Cambridges and their staff became so bad that Harry and Meghan appeared reluctant to engage with anyone at the June 2018 leaving party for Miguel Head, William's former private secretary.

According to two separate sources, the couple "remained aloof" throughout the bash in the private garden at Kensington Palace. "It was a really convivial atmosphere with William giving a touching speech about Mig, but Harry and Meghan just remained on the outskirts and didn't mingle with anyone. They were the last to arrive and the first to leave."

Eyebrows were similarly raised when, having shared the news of her pregnancy at the Champagne reception following Princess Eugenie's wedding to Jack Brooksbank in October 2018, Meghan declined to attend the evening do. The bride was said to have been "upset" that Harry only "popped along for a drink without Meghan" – although they were due to fly to Australia for their first Commonwealth tour the day after.

During the 16-day tour, which also took in Fiji, Tonga and New Zealand, the couple appeared reluctant to engage with the press. Although Harry managed to be persuaded at one point to speak to reporters at the back of the plane, he told them: "Thanks for coming, even though you weren't invited."

Bullying claims emerge

On the same trip, it was claimed that Meghan had cut short a visit to a market in Fiji because she was concerned about the presence of a UN organisation promoting women, with which she had previously worked but now was no longer associated.

At the time, officials suggested that it was because it was humid and the crowd was oppressive in the market. After Meghan had been ushered away, a female member of her entourage was spotted sitting in an official car, looking extremely upset. Meghan's female personal protection officer left her post shortly afterwards.

Lawyers for the Duchess said she met other leaders from UN Women later on the tour and denied she left for the reason alleged.

Although Mr Knauf had not gone on the tour, he is thought to have been "deeply concerned" by reports of the couple's behaviour overseas.

"There was a sense that they were just refusing to take advice, and insisting on doing everything their way," said one royal source. "No one, from the most senior to the most junior employee, wasn't under constant attack," said another.

Matters came to a head in October 2018 following the departure of a second member of the Duchess's private office.

Mr Knauf emailed Simon Case, then William's private secretary and now the Cabinet Secretary, after conversations with Samantha Carruthers, the head of HR. Mr Case then forwarded it to Ms Carruthers, who is based at Clarence House.

The email read: "I am very concerned that the Duchess was able to bully two PAs out of the household in the past year. The treatment of X* was totally unacceptable. The Duchess seems intent on always having someone in her sights. She is bullying Y and seeking to undermine her confidence. We have had report after report from people who have witnessed unacceptable behaviour towards Y."

The email, which also expressed concern about the stress being experienced by Samantha Cohen, the couple's private secretary, concluded: "I questioned if the household's policy on harassment and bullying applies to principals."

While Mr Case was "very personally supportive" of the individual members of staff, Mr Knauf expressed his concern in the email that "nothing will be done". The palace is now holding an investigation, having been criticised for failing to act sooner.

It was not until a month later that it was reported that Melissa Toubati, the Duchess's former PA, had "quit suddenly", just six months into the job. The following month, it was announced that Ms Cohen would not stay in post after the Sussexes' baby was born.

The couple were apparently "furious" about reports of their high staff turnover, piling more pressure on their PR team to "try to turn negative headlines into positive ones".

According to one former employee: "What people fail to understand is Harry's hatred of the media is probably one of the most important things in his life. It is defining for him. So the narrative is always – it’s the press's fault, never theirs."

That Christmas, the Sussexes were once again photographed alongside the Cambridges on Dec 25 but opted to stay with the Queen at the "main house" rather than Anmer Hall.

It came after an awkward staff Christmas party in which "all mention of Melissa's name was banned", according to one royal insider. "It was as if she never existed." Some employees found it hard to reconcile the couple's erratic conduct with moments of genuine kindness, such as when Meghan would buy female staff members flowers or even jewellery.

Relations break down

By the New Year, relations within Kensington Palace had "irretrievably broken down," with Prince Harry no longer on speaking terms with Mr Knauf after he had failed to persuade him to drop the complaint against his wife. The Sussexes' lawyers deny any such conversation took place.

Sources close to the couple say Ms Toubati, who was asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement, was sacked for misconduct, pointing out neither staff member made complaints of their own to HR. Ms Toubati's friends deny she was sacked for misconduct.

With Harry and Meghan already operating in a silo – and increasingly consulting the Duchess's US team of advisers rather than palace officials – a split of the two households at Kensington Palace appeared an inevitability.

It was around the time that the couple moved to Frogmore Cottage in Windsor in March 2019 that Amy Pickerill became the third of the Duchess's staff to leave her role, having served as her assistant private secretary since November 2017.

Mr Knauf also stepped down to work as senior adviser to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. He is now chief executive of the Cambridges' Royal Foundation. Friends say he "bitterly regrets" not warning Sara Latham, who was appointed as the Sussexes' director of communications in April 2019, how difficult working for the couple could be.

The American PR supremo, who used to advise the Clintons, quickly worked this out for herself when the couple insisted on secrecy around son Archie's birth on May 6, while trying to maximise global coverage.

Around the same time it was falsely claimed that the Duchess had been prevented from doing an interview with CBS anchor Gayle King, Ms Winfrey's close friend. In fact, insiders say "the Duchess was calling shots throughout."

It came after Meghan had attended a high-profile baby shower in New York with Serena Williams and Amal Clooney, without being accompanied by any palace press officers. Concerns were raised behind palace gates when freebies started arriving at New York's Mark Hotel, causing consternation for staff back in the UK having to wrestle with the Royal family's strict rules on gifting.

Having courted controversy throughout the summer of 2019 for snubbing the Queen's invitation to Balmoral and taking four private jets in 11 days instead, relations with the media were at rock bottom at the start of the Sussexes' September tour to Africa.

Royal aides were then left dumbfounded when what had been a surprisingly successful 10-day trip with Archie was overshadowed by Meghan's interview with Mr Bradby, in which she revealed the "struggles" she had faced adapting to life in the Royal family.

Duke's fears for wife

It came as Harry released an attack on the tabloid press as the couple announced they would be suing the Mail on Sunday over the publication of a letter Meghan had written to her father.

In a highly personal and scathing statement, Harry said some newspapers had "vilified her almost daily for the past nine months" and claimed they had published "lie after lie" at Meghan's expense simply because she was out of public view on maternity leave.

Referencing his mother Diana, Princess of Wales, who died in a car crash in Paris while being pursued by the paparazzi, the Duke said: "Though this action may not be the safe one, it is the right one. Because my deepest fear is history repeating itself. I lost my mother and now I watch my wife falling victim to the same powerful forces."

The interview set the tone for their January 2020 announcement that they would be "stepping back as senior royals" to become "financially independent".

As the world gathers to watch the most highly anticipated royal television event since Diana's Panorama interview in 1995, it will be left to the viewers to decide which version of history represents the truth.

[drivingsideways]

WIP Wednesday

So @rain-hat​ said I should post a bit from the latest fic so she can read it (properly formatted and not in a chat window, I think??), so here’s a bit from an as yet untitled fic set post-canon verse TKEM, featuring our favourite cop-who-got-a-different-life and also orphan-who-got-a-different-life thanks to Lee Gon being a total ass. 

The White Lily Orphanage isn’t a state organization, instead it’s run by the nuns from the Sisters of the St.Paul of Chartres Convent, one of the earliest established Catholic orders in the Kingdom. It’s not a large home- they have the ability to take in around twenty children at a time, though at the moment they have only half the number. The youngest right now is a three year old ball of sunshine, Jia and the oldest is the lanky fourteen year old Jihun. Hyeon-Min has been attending Mass at the church attached to the convent with eomma since- well, since he was ten.

(God sent Prince Buyeong to us, eomma had said, having found God via the kindness of a stranger, we must be grateful.

Hyeon-min had accepted her explanation then, and now, twenty years later, he doesn’t feel the need to tarnish her faith with his cynicism. He maybe agnostic about God, but he knows that the sisters are kind, that they try to do their best by their young charges, and that’s enough.

He knows enough about the world that he believes that one of its rules should be to pass on the kindness of strangers.)

He parks his bike and grabs his gym bag with the change of clothes, noting a rather beaten up looking sedan in the parking lot. Perhaps there were some potential adopters visiting today, not a very frequent occurrence.

The rates of adoptions in Corea were low, compared to the number of children who needed families. Usually, children who lost their parents were taken in by grandparents, if they were still alive, or the parents’ siblings, if they were not. The ones who ended up in the system- they were truly society’s rejects, the ones who had no one left who cared about them; a patrilineal society obsessed with bloodlines didn’t see them as anything but an inconvenience, or a shameful secret. That their own king was an orphan was not a hypocrisy; Lee Gon was king first, orphan second.

The slack with respect to the less nobly orphaned was picked up by religious or charitable trusts, and only a little by the government. The rules governing adoption were prohibitive- Seo Ryeong had told him about the circles that eomeonim and she had to run to officially take Gyeong-ah into the family. At some point, it had come down to bribery. She’d been tight-lipped and her eyes had glinted in fury, when she’d told him,  though it had already been far enough in the past that Gyeong-ah no longer woke up crying from nightmares, and didn’t stuff her food down at each meal as though she didn’t know when she’d next get one, or try to take as little room as possible in their already tiny apartment.

Gyeong-ah usually accompanies him on these visits too, though she couldn’t make it today.

“LET ME SLEEP” she’d texted in all caps, “I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE FOR AT LEAST 24 HRS HYUNGNIM” .

He figured that meant she’d drop by when he wasn’t around.

 Jia-ya is the first one to spot him when he enters the common room, which is where the kids are normally, at this hour. She runs toward him, almost tripping on her toes, with her hands already raised high above her head. He drops the bag on the floor and swings her up, twirling her around, while she squeals delightedly. When he lowers her, she throws her arms around his neck, placing a candy-sticky kiss on his cheek.

“Hyungnim, where were you??” she demands. “You’ve gone so long that Chia forgot you”.

Chia is her favourite toy- a rather ratty looking cloth panda.

“Sorry Jia-ya” he says, “I had a lot of work”

She pouts. “Have you got chocolate?”

“Mmmhmm” he replies, nodding, “But let’s share with everyone later, ok?”

He puts her down on the floor, and turns to the others who’ve come up, all grinning, except Jihun, who’s trying to look unconcerned, remaining where he’s seated at one of the two computers, headphones in, fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard.

“Hey everyone” he says, reaching out to ruffle a head, tweak a chin. “Ready for a game?”

They’ve got a small basketball court at the back, not professional, by any means, but enough for the kids to work out some of their energy. For soccer, and other games, Gyeong-ah and he take them to a nearby sports club. Ryeong-ah had been the one who worked out a deal with the local residents association that owned the club when she’d made Assemblywoman; it was her constituency after all, and she had cultivated her relationships at local level, as much as she had in the higher echelons. Thanks to (former) Assemblywoman Koo, the kids now had access on alternate Sundays to the club. Luckily, the Sisters of St.Paul of Chartres weren’t too strict about preserving the holiness of the  Sabbath rest; as long as the kids attended Mass in the morning, the rest of the day could be spent as they wished. Today is a Sunday when they don’t have access to the sports club, so Hyeon-Min’s plans are adjusted accordingly- a game, then lunch with everyone, and then piling them all into the small van the orphanage has and taking them for ice cream, before he has to drop back at the station, just to check in on Woo Ji-hyun and Bo-Young who have the day shift today.

“Where’s Sister Lee?” he asks, and twelve-year old Su-bin pipes up “She has a visitor today” and her twin, Yun-seo adds, “He’s a handsome oppa”.

“Is he now?’ Hyeon-min grins down at her.

“Not as cool as you, hyungnim” she assures him earnestly.

“Drop the flattery” he tells her seriously, “You’re not getting an extra scoop later. Everyone go on and get changed.”

The twins and the others- Ming-yu, Jun-ho, Min-su, Seong-min, Min-ji and Eun-ji- dart off.

He picks up his bag again, heading off to the guest room to get changed, calling “Jihun-a, c’mon, let’s go” only to get a shoulder lifted in a shrug, Jihun not even bothering to look at him.

Well, he thought, that was new.

He didn’t press him, confident that Jihun would find his way out later. The problem, perhaps, was that Jihun was a few years older than the others, almost fifteen, ready for high school. The next oldest were the twins, at twelve, and the others fell between nine and eleven, except Jia, who was everybody’s darling at three.

Jihun was preparing to write the same scholarship exam that Hyeon-Min had taken all those years ago, to get into CNA. His grades at the local public school were pretty good, and he excelled especially at art- but it was a tough school to get into, given the sheer number of candidates applying, even more than when Hyeon-Min and Ryeong-ah had given the test.

Hyeon-min thought he could recognize in Jihun the same kind of hunger that he’d seen in Ryeong-ah, all those years ago. And just like all those years ago, one part of him was amazed, and proud; another was just scared for Jihun, for what the world might do to him, outside of the safety of this place. He tried to shrug the fear off- what use could it be to Jihun- and had begun helping him prepare for the test, instead.

Perhaps Jihun was upset because he hadn’t been able to come by for three weeks, although he’d spoken to him a few times on the phone and had checked in with Sister Lee as well.

When he changes into his shorts and t-shirt and comes back to check in, Jihun’s disappeared. Perhaps he’d changed his mind and decided to join the game, after all.

He’s about to duck out of the room, when Sister Lee comes in accompanied by a young man- the “handsome oppa” of Yun-seo’s description, clearly.

“Ah, Inspector Kang” she says, giving him her usual warm smile. “Good morning. You finally have a day off, I see.”

“Good morning, Sister Lee” he greets her, bowing.

She turns to the man with her.

“This is Senior Inspector Kang Hyeon-min from Busan PD” she says, and the man gives him a strangely assessing look, and bows. He’s fair, slightly shorter than Hyeon-Min, a dark eyes and a sharp nose in a square-jawed face. The glasses and the clothes- a light blue button down shirt that’s unbuttoned at the collar over khaki slacks,  give him the look of a librarian on vacation. He’s probably a few years younger than Hyeon-Min.

“I’m Kim Jun-Yeong” he says, bowing toward Hyeon-Min.

“Mr.Kim teaches art at the school” she says, meaning the local public school all the kids here attend. “He came by to talk about Jihun.”

“Is something the matter?” Hyeon-min asks, immediately. “Is Jihun in trouble?”

“Nothing like that” Mr.Kim says, with a smile. “In fact, I came by to chat with Sister Lee about Jihun’s future plans. He told me that he was preparing for admission at CNA.”

Hyeon-Min nods. “I’m trying to help out” he says. “When I can.”

“Inspector Kang has been a huge support to the children here for years” Sister Lee says, giving him another warm smile. “And since he’s a CNA alumnus himself, he’s probably the best suited to help Jihun ace the exam.”

“Yes, of course”, Mr.Kim says, adding, “Jihun-a has told me a lot about you already, Senior Inspector Kang.”

“Oh” says Hyeon-Min, politely, “He’s never mentioned you to me.”

Something wry passes over Mr. Kim’s face at that, and it makes Hyeon-min feel a little silly.

“Mr. Kim is of the opinion that Jihun should perhaps try for an art school later” Sister Lee says, “And finish high school at some school less demanding than CNA, Kang-ssi”.

“Did Jihun-a say that’s what he wants to do?” Hyeon-min asks, stunned. Jihun had never mentioned it to him.

There’s an awkward silence.

“He did seem open to the idea” Mr.Kim says, sounding a little apologetic. “He started asking me about art schools and scholarships a while ago. I didn’t know then that you were already preparing him for the CNA entrance.”

‘But” says Hyeon-min, feeling like the rug had been pulled from under his feet.

Sister Lee says, thoughtfully, “Perhaps he was uncomfortable bringing it up with me or you, Kang-ssi.”

“We never forced him”, Hyeon-min feels compelled to protest.

“Jihun-a admires you a lot, Kang-ssi” Mr.Kim murmurs, “It is but natural he would want to follow in your footsteps.”

Hyeon-min looks at him and meets that calmly assessing look again.

“Did he ask you to meet Sister Lee and talk about this?”

“No” says Mr.Kim, “He didn’t. In fact, I think he was a little upset when he saw me today.”

Well, that explained earlier, Hyeon-Min realizes.

“Will you—” starts Sister Lee, nodding toward back, from where they can already here the shouts of the children.

“Yes” Hyeon-Min answers. “I’ll have a chat with him.”

“Good” she says, smiling again at him. “I’ll talk to him later as well.”

She turns to the teacher.

“Mr.Kim, I really appreciate your dropping by. It’s not often we get teachers who are so concerned with the well-being of our students.”

Mr.Kim says, quietly, “I was brought up in a home too- not as good as this one” he adds. “I know what it’s like.”

Oh.

Well, now, Hyeon-Min feels like a total piece of shit.

“Thank you, Kim-ssi” he says, and tries to infuse it with something more than stiff formality.

Mr.Kim gives him a short nod.

“I’d better head over before the fighting starts” Hyeon-min says, giving Sister Lee a smile. “I’ll see you at lunch, Sister Lee.”

They part ways, and when Hyeon-min reaches the court just in time to stop Min-ji from punching Eun-ji in the face, he sees that Jihun is there as well, but sitting on the side-lines, playing with Jia, although he’s changed into game clothes as well.

He darts a glance at Hyeon-min and then quickly looks away, flushing.

Hyeon-min jogs up to him.

“Get in” he says, clapping him on the back, “So I don’t have to keep the peace all by myself”

Jihun looks up at him, uncertain, as though he’d expected Hyeon-min to be- angry- with him.

“Jihun-a” he says, holding out a hand toward him, “ C’mon.”

Jihun takes his hand and lets himself be hauled up, and Hyeon-min even manages to get a one-armed hug in before he scampers off, suddenly cheerful.

 It’s a good game, and after, as they’re all chattering at the lunch table, Gyeong-ah comes in and plonks herself down opposite the twins, and they stuff themselves to the gills before piling into the van.

Gyeong-ah’s driving, and as they pull out of the gate, Hyeon-min notices a black Hummer parked in the alley, five cars away,  the glasses shaded so dark, he can’t see inside.

He has an idle moment of wondering what a car like that was doing in the neighbourhood but is distracted by Jia-ya climbing into his lap to tell him all about Chia’s adventures in the place she calls “Funderland” (like Wonderland, but fun, she insists).

 On the way back, Gyeong-ah drives again, and this time the kids are mostly in a food coma, some of them burping softly, sprawling on the seats, so he gets a chance to talk to Jihun, settling beside him, right at the back.

“So” he says, “art school, huh?”

Jihun glances at him quickly and then away, head bent.

“Do you know which ones you’re interested in?”

Jihun looks up then.

“You’re not angry?” he asks, uncertainty writ large on his young face.

“Just surprised” Hyeon-min admits. “Why didn’t you ever tell me or Sister Lee? You know we wouldn’t have stopped you.”

He shrugs, looking away.

“Everyone’s expecting me to become the first CNA graduate from the home” he says, softly. “All these years”.

“Nobody wants you to be anything other than happy, Jihun-a” Hyeon-min contradicts him, gently. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you any other idea.”

Jihun turns to him.

“I did think I wanted that too” he says, candidly. “But then—I don’t know, hyungnim, frankly, it sounds like an awful place in other ways.”

“Who’ve you been talking to?” Hyeon-min asks, surprised, because he’d never said anything to Jihun about it other than good things about the academics, and the opportunities it would open up for him.

Jihun gives him a pitying look.

“Hyungnim” he says, “You know the internet is a thing right? Or was it not a thing when you were young?”

“Hey” he says, “I’m thirty-one, not a dinosaur.”

Jihun looks unconvinced.

“Student forums” he says, helpfully. “And even Mr.Kim—”

“Mr.Kim went to CNA?” Hyeon-min asks, surprised again.

“No” says Jihun, “But I think he knows people. He’s a teacher, right, he knows this stuff.”

“Hmm” says Hyeon-min, miffed.

Jihun eyes him again. “Are you angry I didn’t tell you, but I told Mr.Kim?”

Wow, Hyeon-min thinks, dissected by a fourteen-year old, wonderful.

“Don’t give me your backchat, Jihun-a” he says, and Jihun grins at him.

Hyeon-min diverts the talk into the art schools he’s interested in, and they spend the rest of the ride like that.

 Later, before Gyeong-ah and he head off, they have a talk with Sister Lee.

Sister Lee Jeong-hui- or “Dragon Lady” as Gyeong-ah liked to call her- was a petite woman with delicate wrists, and long fingered hands that poked out of the sleeves of her habit. Unlike most of her contemporaries, she’d joined the Order, not as a young girl, but in her mid-thirties, after making a name for herself as a labour rights lawyer, working up north, in the mining communities. She’d moved to Busan when her health took a downturn- her asthma was something terrible- and she’d been shunted around the diocese until ending up at the orphanage ten years ago. She’d taken one look at the lackadaisical administration of the Orphanage- then run by Sister Pa, who was already in her seventies, taken a deep breath, and got to work. She’d transformed the place, scrounging funding wherever she could- sometimes by just persistently annoying the powers that be- and was currently in a long drawn out battle with the Bishop of the Diocese over her demand that they expand their current home to start a support home for single mothers- the people most likely to abandon their children, for lack of resources and societal stigma.

They talk about her latest efforts in that direction, after Hyeon-min tells her about his conversation with Jihun.

“Thank you Inspector Kang” she says, softly, “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Of course not” he says, staunchly, though perhaps he was, a little. “Jihun’s going to be great at whatever he does.”

“Yes” she agrees, a fond smile transforming her rather grave face into loveliness. “He’s a blessed child”.

“Anyway” she says, sighing, “Perhaps it’s just as well. Even with a scholarship, funding for other expenses would have always been a tension. This way, we have some time to prepare before he goes to art school.”

Gyeong-ah says, “What did the Welfare Association say?”

When the Diocese had hummed-and-hawed about the home for women, Sister Lee had turned elsewhere.

Sister Lee makes a rather un-saintly face. “That government policy doesn’t include- and you won’t believe this, or perhaps you will- doesn’t include subsidizing and rewarding irresponsible behaviour”.

“I thought Ryeong-ah said they had a specific budget for women’s welfare” Gyeong-ah says, hotly. “They can’t deny it only to some women, can they? Plus it’s a discretionary budget.”

Sister Lee sighs. “Child, I don’t know if I have the energy to fight that battle right now. If we had someone on the Committee there- but it’s all bureaucrats who think of it as a sinecure position really…”

She shrugs, and pats Gyeong-ah’s shoulder, comforting.

“I’m not giving up, Seo-Gyeong” she says, “Not yet.”

They bid her goodbye.

 As she puts on her helmet and climbs onto the bike, Gyeong-ah says, abruptly, “Sometimes I’m so angry with unnie for what she did- because she fucked up her chance to help people like Sister Lee, who really need her”.

“ Song & Kim will get her out” he says, “Right?”

“But what about after?” she argues, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Her political career is probably over.”

“It’s never over with Ryeong-ah” he reminds her, belting his own helmet, and adjusting the strap of his gym bag over his jacket.

As they drive out of the gate, he sees that the Hummer isn’t there anymore.

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 4. Him

‘be gentle my little thunderstorm, the world is just not ready.’ a.j. lawless

The day we had tea with the Cambridges ended the same way many before: with Lourdes sending a video of her ice skating routine asking for my opinion; that time I didn’t even pretend to see it. I ignored the text and tried to sleep. 

Louis barged into the room soon after.

“Will you stop ignoring our sister?”, he asked, rudely. “She notices, Maggie. And it’s really unfair.”

“Okay.” I said. “Goodnight.”

I heard him sigh, and nothing else. No steps out of the room, no creaky Clarence House door closing, no light down. Finally, I pushed away the cover and sat up.

“I can’t do this now, Louis. I have a headache.”

I’d come up with the headache excuse in order to skip dinner with the Prince of Wales and his wife, but my brother knew that excuse better than anyone. 

After leaving the Cambridges, we had gone back to Clarence House, where we were hosted for the trip, and changed into black attire for a military ceremony in town where I managed to avoid my brother to try and focus on being less upset. He wasn’t about to make it easy for me, though.

At one point, Harry came to stay in line with us as my father and Prince Charles received the compliments from the officials. He gave me that look of his I was now coming to identify as a signature look, one with more intentions than verbalized; one with more feeling than was allowed. 

“Nice dress.” He said. Leaning in close enough that only I could hear him, close enough that his lips brushed my hair and couldn’t be read by prying reporters, he added, “The person wearing it is prettier.”

It took all in me to contain an eyeroll, but the amused smile in my lips was impossible to hold back. Just as I felt my cheeks redden, Louis joined in.

“It’s probably our mother’s. The shoes definitely are.”

It wasn’t a dig for the untrained ears. My mother, in all ways, was more stylish and beautiful than a woman her age should be allowed to be. But knowing my brother for all the twenty-two years he’d been on this earth, I knew very well how to distinguish his honest compliments to his sarcastic ones.

Still, the moment passed, and I maintained the posture expected of me. Coming home, however, I had to tell my father I had a headache so I could come right upstairs before dinner, or else I might lose it in public. 

I had a nice, warm shower, put on my softest fleece pajamas, and brushed my hair while talking to my friend Constance on the phone about our other friend Stella and her terrible taste in men, allowing it to distract me from my brother and wild, unruly thoughts of Harry. 

After that, I got under the blankets and prepared to stare at funny pictures on pinterest - an app I had a fake, incognito account on - until sleep took over. I promptly ignored my sister’s text, as I was known to do, and not ten minutes later Louis barged into the room.

I finally heard the door close, and was overtaken by a familiar struggle against tears, but before I could decide if I should succumb to it, the mattress dipped as my brother climbed onto bed with me. A few seconds went by in silence before he finally broke it.

“Look. Maggie. I… I was talking to Will earlier.”

“Prince William?”

“Oui. I guess I just… I didn’t realize- of course I knew you were helping a lot back home. I just didn’t think it bothered you so much.”

I took it in; he was… almost apologizing.

“Well, now you know.”

“Yes, I do. And, I don’t know, I just…”

I pushed the blankets down and sat up, still not looking over at him, but allowing myself to be in the moment as well.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

I sighed, and finally looked over at him. 

My brother didn’t look too young or old, he had that odd quality of looking precisely his age. He had a light stubble growing around his thin, pointy jaw; it was the same color as his hair, blonde, which was now growing almost to his ears. It waved about, framing his eyes, a nice, dark blue shade just like mine - Lourdes had them too, all three of us had inherited them from our mother. The blonde hair we got from dad’s side of the family, as well as an unwavering determination.

“I’m not unhappy, Lou. I just… I could be happier, I suppose.”

He nodded. “And I want you to be.”

Letting out a long breath, I attempted to also let go of the anger, and focus on what I knew for sure about Louis.

He had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. No matter the signs, or how often he was told of the contrary, Louis was always decided to give people the benefit of the doubt. It was a trait we got from our mother, too, and I wasn’t sure what had made me slightly more cynical than him in this aspect, but I suspected it happened somewhere in Law School.

Louis wanted people to be happy, to excel. He wanted laughter and adventure and success for every person that crossed his path. I knew for a fact there was no way he would ever really wish the contrary, on anyone. I knew something else, too, something much more important.

I knew exactly why he was afraid to come home.

“I know you’re trying to figure things out.” I told him. “I don’t blame you. I know it’s tough.”

He nodded, slowly, and took in a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was wavering; barely a whisper.

“I’m not, though. Not anymore. I think you know that. I haven’t been figuring things out anymore. I’ve known, really known, for a while now.”

All thoughts of the fight forgotten, I felt my heart tighten on my chest. I looked at my little brother, shrunk down and resolute, sitting by my side in bed. He was staring off into the room, but I knew, somehow, he was perfectly aware of my every move.

“You’re sure?” My whisper matched his. I presumed my fear did too.

He sighed, gulped, and shut his eyes tight, before opening them again and smiling at me, scared.

“I’m in love with him.”

The words were new, but the sentiment wasn’t; Louis was fifteen the first time he told me he thought he might be gay. I remembered the day as if I had been replaying it in my mind at least once a month ever since, because it was accurate. 

It was summer; I was almost eighteen, fresh out of my secondary school graduation, but still a few weeks before my adult future. We had been spending summer with our grandparents at the place they lived after my grandfather abdicated as king, Haydell Castle, in the east coast of Savoy. The Castle sat on a hill overlooking the Atlantic, and Louis, myself and Lourdes would go to the beach most afternoons to play volleyball and tan. One late afternoon, Lourdes was applying finishing touches to a sandcastle she’d spent hours working on. Louis had been helping, but left her to get some water from the cooler near where I was laying, struggling to read a book on the darkening light of the fast approaching sunset. 

He sat down by my side with a thud, drank half a bottle of water as I complained about the sand he’d inadvertently thrown my way, and then, without looking at me, said, “I think I have a crush on a classmate.”

Louis went to an all-boys boarding school. The boy in question was a very handsome senior, with kind eyes and handsome dimples. My brother spent a while telling me about how he liked sports and theater and wanted to backpack through South America after school. Then we spent the rest of the summer brainstorming what this could mean.

Monarchies weren’t built on diversity. The core of the system our family was built on was genetics and catholicism, two elements that were famously not very lenient. The Royal Family of Savoy had branched out from the French Royal Family many generations ago. Though we prided ourselves, then and now, that we were different, we still inherited some very big elements from them. A few tiaras, a few titles, and Catholicism. Though Savoy had freedom of religion, the monarchy’s official creed was still Catholicism. It was involved in most of our protocols and traditions, a king couldn’t even be crowned if he hadn’t been baptised in the church. 

The idea of a gay, catholic King of Savoy was ludicrous even to us, no matter how much we wished it wasn’t.

And then, there was the issue of the line of succession. Say the church and country allowed my brother to reign as an out gay man, say they allowed him to marry a man in the Catholic church, say they allowed him to be crowned as king with a prince consort… It would be his duty to secure the line of succession; a king’s job is to produce a child to be the next king whose child will be next after him, and so on. Though it was the 21st century, there was no precedent to a king’s heir being anything other than his own, biologic child. And even as we tried to consider the idea of my brother having one with an egg donor, using a surrogate, we immediately knew what that would mean: whoever this woman was, her privacy would never be respected. People would want to know everything about her. 

As to adopting, what were his options? In what world would the press not hunt down every possible information about the child’s biological family? Interview every distant relative for money? Come up with every way to embarrass them for clicks on an article? How could that child possibly be raised to be king with that kind of scrutiny surrounding them? 

I thought of it as we sat in silence. He loved Peter. Peter loved him. And yes, they were young and that might change, but Louis being gay wouldn’t. Louis wanting to be a father was unlikely to change. But there was no precedent for a king to have an adopted child as an heir, and having a biological child through surrogate would be too hard on a surrogate and her family, being harassed and forever linked to us. If he sacrificed his own wishes and decided not to have children in order to spare them, then me or my children would have to inherit, which to me was simply unthinkable.

“They’re not going to cut you out.” I told him. “You know mom and dad, they love you. They love us. It might be hard dealing with everyone else, but they’ll always support you.”

He gulped. “The thing is… they might love me, but that’s not enough to change centuries of tradition just so I can-”

“Be who you are!”

He was silent, pulling on a lose thread on the blanket.

“I suppose I could just do what they did back in the day.” He considered. “Marry some poor, naive girl, sleep with her just enough to produce an heir and make Peter my secretary so we can carry out a scandalous and secret affair.”

I gave him a sarcastic look, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m kidding.” He started biting a nail. “I could just… not have children.”

“You want children.”

“...yeah.”

“We’ll think of something.” I told him, confidently. “It’ll be easier once mom and dad know. They’ll figure something out. They’re good at this. They’re not going to make you keep this a secret, they love you too much.”

He sighed. “It would be easier for me to abdicate.”

“That’s not happening!”

“Why?! Because you can’t fathom the idea of having to inherit?! You think it’s okay to put me or my children through hell so you can hold on to your comfort? Who’s being selfish now?!”

I stared at him, mouth agape.

“That’s not fair.” I wasn’t even sure the words had come out, so low was my volume and so loud my shock.

He reached out and held my hand in his, leaning over to lay his head on my shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I laid my cheek against his hair, holding his hand tightly. 

The worst part was knowing he was right. As unfair as it was, the easiest path was for him to come out and simply not have kids. But I didn’t want the headache of figuring out how to raise children to inherit after him, or worse yet, to have to be the heir if he was made to abdicate. It was such a colossal thought I couldn’t even think of it too much without feeling a panic attack creeping in.

He was 22. My little brother shouldn’t even be concerned about children at this age. And yet, because of the backwards traditions we were embroiled in from birth, he had no choice, and all our lives depended on how accepting the world would be of who he was.

“Hey.” I called, and he raised his head to look at me. “We will figure it out. I promise.” 

His smile was so small it broke my heart even more. He didn’t say anything, though. He just nodded, slowly, and stared at his hands.

“I love Peter.” I said, tentatively. I had said it before, but it carried a different weight now. Louis’ smile grew. 

“I want to introduce him to Lou. She didn’t come that time you met him, I think they’ll get along.”

I bumped my shoulder to his. “Just tell him to compliment her skating, she’ll love him.”

He chuckled, then looked at me very seriously. “Speaking of our sister, you could be more patient with her, you know?”

I sighed. “I am.”

“No, you’re not. Patient would be watching her videos and offering useful advice.”

“You’re asking too much.”

“I can do it, so can you! You think I care about ice skating?”

“Kinda.”

“Well… okay, I do. But they wear really sparkly dresses. Honestly, Maggie, she just wants to make you proud.”

“I don’t…!” I sighed, “I don’t really know how to talk to her, sometimes. I only had a couple of years with her before going to boarding school, you at least got to see her more often.”

He fished into his pockets, found his phone and opened the messaging app. I watched him create a group, add both me and Lourdes to it, name it ‘Louis’ Girl Gang’, and send the message, ‘this way it’s easier to chat!’.

“This way you can just watch how I interact with her and mimic.” He said. “Just react like me and soon you’ll be able to do it yourself.”

I opened my phone and replied, ‘this chat name is ridiculous’.

“Ouch.” He said, emotionless.

I gave him a dirty look, and we laughed. Both our phones buzzed at the same time with Lourdes’ reply, the first of many.

‘yay i love this! miss u guys!’

I smiled. She was too sweet for her own good. 

I had no idea what the future held for us, but I knew with one hundred percent certainty I loved every single atom of my siblings.

---- ---- ----

The drive to the polo club the following morning - our last one in Britain - wasn’t long, but we had to leave early enough that I had to do my makeup in the car. Did I need makeup to play polo? No. But would the press comment on how ‘tired’ I looked if I didn’t? Yes, so shaky hands on a tiny mirror it was.

Harry and William were already at the club when we got there; we were introduced to the horses we were using that morning, and the rest of the people who would be playing. There was a small breakfast laid out, with mimosas and champagne flutes, which we ate as we made some small talk and got to know everyone. 

“So,” Harry started, finding me alone by the water jugs.

“So.” I replied.

“I’ve been doing some googling.” 

“Yes?”

He sighed. “And I cannot, for the life of me, figure out when we may have met.”

“Oh.” I smiled.

I had started to think he’d forgotten it, or worse, simply didn’t care. But apparently he did. He cared enough to look it up.

The thought felt… oddly warm.

“I asked my people. And then I asked my people to ask your people, who weren’t able, or willing, to come up with an answer. So I do not know, for the life of me, when we may have met before two days ago.”

I nodded, smiling slightly. “Your efforts are noted.”

“Look, I feel like a jerk.” He sighed. “I’m sure I would remember you if we met before. You have a face a guy would remember.”

I swallowed the electric shock that line sent through me. “Apparently not.”

“Give me a hint. Was it here or in Savoy? Or another country? Day or night? Was it more than a year ago?”

I looked at him, brows raised. “It was in another country, during the day, more than a year ago.”

He nodded, attentive, scratching his beard. Then, he sighed dramatically. “God, I have no idea!”

“So you give up?”

He grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. It’s a question.”

He stared into my eyes for a beat, as his smile grew.

“No, I don’t give up. I’ll figure it out.”

I nodded, silently, holding his stare.

I suddenly realized I didn’t have a plan. I hadn’t planned on making this a big deal, but now when I eventually had to tell him, we would both be faced with a story that wasn’t as interesting or sexy as we had made it sound.

“So, what are we thinking?!” My brother interrupted, joining us with William. “Heirs against spares?”

“What, and lose the chance to massacrate Harry on the field?” I challenged, as the ginger looked at me, mouth agape.

“Nice! I love the sentiment, Margueritte!” William cheered. “She’s on my team, dibs on Margueritte!”

“Excuse me, I believe I already have dibs on Mary.” Harry interjected, making his brother laugh.

The line was so unapologetically flirty I felt my jaw drop as I looked around. We were at a tent in the back, where the players were getting ready before being sorted into teams. There was no press around, but there was a lot of people who hadn’t signed NDAs or anything.

Louis was squinting at Harry with a mischievous grin on his lips. “Excuse me, are you flirting with my sister?”

I felt my stomach twirl in anxiety, and tried to give him a warning look, but before I could, Harry answered.

“I’ve been trying to, for the past three days.”

He was smiling at me now, again so unapologetically it felt as if I had lost all ability to function. William was watching the whole thing with an amused look on his eyes.

Louis’ grin grew into a smile, as he slowly moved his eyes from Harry to me, “Huh.”

“Is that a problem?”, Harry asked my brother.

“For me? No!” He assured him, “For you? Well…”

“She hasn’t exactly made it easy for me.”

“Sounds like her.”

“Louis-Adolphe!” I admonized, earning from him a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t use both my names as if you’re mom.”

William laughed.

“Any tips?” Harry asked Louis, very seriously, but looking at me as if studying an animal on the wild.

“Hm,” my brother considered him, “Patience. Her only relationship was with a family friend we’ve known all our lives, and that took forever.”

“Lou!” I warned, again.

“What?! It’s not like he can’t google you.” He shrugged.

“Okay.” I said, before turning on my heels to exit the tent.

I made myself busy elsewhere, but couldn’t keep my mind straight. My heart was racing and I couldn’t tell if the reason was Louis’ teasing or Harry’s unabashed flirting, or both. Before I knew it, though, we were stretching as a group, and getting our uniforms on; I did stay on William’s team, while Harry and Louis played together. 

He found me as we made our way into the field, while I was busy trying to tie the upper half of my hair on a low ponytail.

“Have I told you you look fantastic today, Mary?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll remedy that as soon as possible.”

“You look fantastic, Mary. White pants suit you.”

Harry’s eyes hovered down my body over my form-fitting white jeans under the black riding boots.

“Thank you.” I said, curt, and paced faster to my horse, starting to fasten the girth to adjust the saddle.

“...I’m sorry.”

I stopped, and looked back at him, only half surprised he was still there. A little more than half surprised by the genuine fear and sadness in his eyes. 

“Oh. For?”

He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable before, when I was talking to your brother. I was just… trying to lighten the mood. Be, you know, funny I guess.”

I gulped; funny?

“Right. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I resumed my work on the horse’s saddle.

I even added a short smile to go with the lie, but it didn’t seem to convince him.

“Really, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?”

He took a quick step closer and wrapped my hand in his; I felt my breath caught in my throat as I noticed how big they were, his knuckles were protuberant, his veins popped against his pale skin. In a dark corner in my mind I wondered what hands like those might feel like on my body.

“Mary.” He whispered, softly; I gulped, not daring to meet his gaze. 

“Marie.” I whispered back.

He sighed. “Marie. If you want me to stop, and just… be your friend, or even just a polite acquaintance…” 

He allowed the end of his sentence to hang in the air, ominous; It felt horrifying, specially hearing him call me my actual name. It made me look back at him, meeting his eyes a lot closer than I thought they would be.

“...all you gotta do is say so.” He finished, finally. 

The offer sounded awfully simple for a feat that sounded amazingly difficult, though I couldn’t understand why. He was being so annoying, so infuriating for the past three days. It would be so easy to tell him to back off, if only it weren’t for that little part of my heart that was trying to tell me he wasn’t that annoying. And really, wasn’t the only frustrating thing about it that we had had so little time together? After all, his hand was still on mine, and it did feel like my whole body was warmer than the British sun on that morning warranted.

“What’s this?” I asked.

As I looked back to his hands, I noticed once more that he had something written in them. He turned his palm towards me, while the back of his hand still rested in mine.

“This says ‘call Gil’, it’s the manager of my foundation in Lesotho. I have to get back to him about something. And this other line says ‘figure out trip’. It’s my mate’s birthday next month and the lads asked me to figure out how we can organize a hunting trip for him.”

As he explained his little reminder list on his palm, I traced it with the tips of my fingers lightly. After I ran out of the ink to trace, I started tracing the lines in his palm, very slowly.

“Bad memory?” I teased.

He sighed, “The worst. Well, not about important things. I remember important things. But names of people I met only a couple times, but should definitely know? Nope. And the deadline to things I have to do? Even worse. Hence the writing in hand.”

“Have you tried setting alarms on your phone?”

“I barely know how to make calls.” He rolled his eyes.

“Drama queen!”

“I’m serious! We’re not allowed to use social media, so really what’s there to do? I just don’t use it much.”

“God, it’s like you’re 80.”

He chuckled, and his hand closed on reflex over mine. Now it was almost as if we were holding hands. The thought, the warmth of his skin on mine, sent a shock wave through my body.

“Come on, Harry, no flirting with the competition!” Louis called out as he rode by.

We chuckled, timidly.

“Things seem better, with Louis.” He commented. 

I smiled. “We talked.”

“Did he understand?”

I nodded. “Yes. He’s got a good heart. He’s young, but he’d never willingly do something to hurt anyone. It’s just…” I sighed, giving him a side glance. “He’s got… some stuff to figure out. And I wanna help as much as I can. I just… Can’t sacrifice myself for it. And I think he gets it.”

There was a pause, a more comfortable one this time, and next time he spoke, he had a whisper of a smile on his lips.

“You didn’t ask me to stop.” He whispered. I looked at him. 

“I guess I didn’t.”

We exchanged a smile, and just as I felt my cheeks redden at the long pause, his brother rode by already on his horse.

“Stop flirting with my player, Harry, get to your horse!”

We jumped, startled, but chuckled timidly as he rode away.

“So, how confident are you that you’re going to beat me?”, he asked.

“Oh, only about 89%.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Ninety-six, tops.”

He nodded, amused. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Loser buys dinner.”

I bit my inner lip to contain a smile. It almost sounded like he was asking me on a date. Was he asking me out on a date?

“I… I have to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Well, Savoy is, what? Four or five hours away by train?”

“Another one and a half to the city where I live.”

He nodded, then shrugged. “I can do that. What do you say?”

I placed a foot on the stirrup, and jumped up to take my seat on the saddle.

“Win first, Your Royal Highness. Then we’ll talk.”

“Game on, Mary.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!! please let me know if you like it? I’m open to notes, suggestions, all of it =) just liking this chapter would really help me know!

I don’t know how to say this without spoiling a big plot point in the story, but to be fair it is sort of the main premise, so if you’d like not to be spoiled on plot points, maybe come back later? Cool. Let’s get to it.

When I first started writing this story, I hadn’t intended on Margueritte’s brother, Louis, to be such a big character. I expected his time with us would be… well, shorter, after all the main idea for this story starts with his - again, spoiler alert - death. But as I wrote a little of him, I I liked him so much, and I ended up writing more and more and soon it was really heartbreaking killing him. As you’ll soon find, Louis fits into a trope I didn’t intentionally set out to write: the kill your gays trope. I don’t want to go into details because that’s enough spoilers, but suffice to say mea culpa, and also I hope you’ll give me a chance to show I do have a bigger intention with this: one, monarchies are famously heteronormative. They essentially can’t survive otherwise, or so we are told. I have always wandered about this. We’ve all read the historical examples of homosexuality being swiftly repressed for the good of the succession line. As a modern royal, Margueritte will have to look this issue in the eyes, too. She’ll have to realize the role she plays in a system where for her family and its history to survive, some families cannot exist in their purest form, and she will struggle with not being able to tell the world the truth about her brother - since it is not her place - knowing this makes her an accomplice in rewriting history to fit her best purpose. 

Which choices she makes and which path she decided to take in this issue are something I’m excited to explore, as I honestly believe monarchies will have to have a solution for this at one point or another.

TL/DR: though this story adds to the kill your gays trope, which I know it’s problematic, I want to write about the way monarchies perpetuate heteronormativity and how they will have to find a way for all their members, regardless of sexuality or gender identity, to feel at home in the institution, and I intend to add more non-straight characters so delve into this issue.]

[mieteve-minijoma]

Songfic Day 14: If

Day 14: A song you’d love played at your wedding: If - Bread

Jughead and Betty throughout their wedding day

*****

If a picture paints a thousand words,

Then why can't I paint you?

The words will never show the you I've come to know.

  6:32 am - Betty

  “Good Morning Besties! Time to rise and shine, we have to get the blushing bride to the chapel on time and we’re already behind schedule,” Veronica sang, pulling back the curtains of the grande suite she’d rented for her best friend Betty’s wedding.

 “Christ Lodge, the sun is barely up, can you not?” Toni grumbled from one of the large king size beds that she and Cheryl had passed out the night before. Jellybean lay sprawled out on the sofa, snoring despite all the noise around her. 

 “No can do, Topaz. As maid of honor it is my duty to keep you bridesmaids on schedule while also making sure B has everything she needs and stays sane today. Last thing we need is Alice complaining that things are running behind,” she said, placing two lattes beside Toni.

 “V, it’s entirely too early to mention my mother. I need my coffee first before we can even go there. What time is it anyway?” Betty yawned, stretching as she spoke.  

  7:35 am - Jughead

  “Archie!” Jughead yelled across the apartment he shared with his best friend, Archie. After today, he would be moving in with his fiance -well wife- and he really couldn't wait.

 He and Betty have been together for 6 years now and he couldn't be happier with his life. They were both officially done with school and had just opened their own Private Investigation Firm. That way they could work together while also allowing Jughead to have time to work on his novel. 

 Life had been good to them and now they finally get to be man and wife. Jughead was trying not to be sappy about it all, but this was his ultimate dream come true.

 "What is it Jug? What time is it?" Archie asked, hair askew and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

 "It's almost 8, coffee’s in the pot. Have you seen my cufflinks? You know the ones Dad had made, the little silver crowns? I can't find them anywhere," Jughead was a bit worried when they weren’t on his dresser that morning. FP’d had them made for the wedding with an identical pendant made for Betty to wear as well. And his Dad didn't give him a lot of gifts growing up so these were very important to him. 

 "Yeah man, there in the box with mine and the groomsmen's in my bag ready to go to the church," Archie said in a calming voice, "Don't freak out man, as your best man it's my job to keep you calm and threaten to murder you or break your legs if you try to run."

 "I think death threats and acts of violence are a bit extreme, don't you Arch?" Jughead laughed.

 Archie rolled his eyes, grabbing a cup to pour them some coffee, "Tell that to Veronica."

  If a face could launch a thousand ships,

Then where am I to go?

  9:23 am - Betty

"V, I’m so glad you talked me into doing a massage and facial before our mani-pedis. This is literally heaven," Betty sighed, taking a sip of her mimosa while the manicurist massaged lotion onto her calves.

 "Only the best for my B. I wanted to make you feel as special your wedding day as everyday of my life has felt since you came into it," Veronica smiled, eyes glistening. Betty teared up at her best friends heartfelt words.

 "Oh, V. I love you so much," Betty pulled her into a crushing hug, being sure not to shift her lower half. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and whispered, "Thanks for always being there for me, no matter what. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you."

 Veronica pulled back, laughing through a sob, "Ok, enough of that. I may have gotten the best waterproof makeup money can buy, but we aren't trying to test that claim today."

 "Betty?" They both froze when they heard the voice calling from the hall. Betty let out an exasperated sigh.

 "In here, Mom."

  9:47 am - Jughead

  "Coming!" Jughead yelled, walking towards the front door. When he opened it, he was met with the smiling faces of his father and his other three best friends.

 "Congratulations, boy," FP stepped in, hugging his son tight, "I can't believe you're actually getting married."

 "Thanks Dad, what you you doing here so early? I didn't expect you for another hour at least," Jughead said, hugging and high-fiving his groomsmen -Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Kevin- as they entered the apartment.

 "You know Alice, she was itching to leave Riverdale at 6 this morning. I held her off as long as possible but that’s like fighting a grizzly bear and well, Archie wasn’t around for back up. Is JB here?" FP asked, looking around Jug's apartment for his daughter.

 "She decided to stay over at the hotel with the girls so they could all be together to get ready or whatever they plan on doing," Jughead said, shrugging his shoulders.

 "Looks Sweets will be disappointed. He was hoping to see her before we all had to get ready," FP nodded his head towards Sweet Pea who'd spent the entire time with his nose shoved in his phone, dopey grin plastered on his face.

 It honestly used to bother him Sweet Pea and Jellybean had started dating when she turned 18 but he got over that fairly quickly. Just seeing how good they were for each other eased Jughead's mind. Besides that, Sweets looked at Jelly the same way he looked at Betty, so he knew what they had was real.

  There's no one home but you,

You're all that's left me too.

  11:56 am - Betty

  "Stand up straight, Elizabeth. We still have to finish getting you in this corset or we will never get your dress on properly," Alice huffed, pulling on the fabric. Veronica had gone downstairs to handle a situation with the caterers and all the girls had stepped out to get drinks and snacks for the rest of the wedding party, leaving Betty alone with her mother for the first time all morning.  And frankly, she was about to her breaking point. 

 She loved her mother, she really did, and ever since she and FP had gotten better but as soon as the wedding planning started she had started to nitpick every little thing Betty did or choice she made. 

 With hips like yours, would a mermaid cut dress be appropriate? Elizabeth, just because Jughead wants a chocolate cake doesn't mean he should get it, it’s your special day. Is that really the font you chose for the invitations? You’re seriously going to have your bridesmaids and groomsmen mixed up on both sides?

 It has gotten so bad that Jughead and FP had to step in to tell her that it was enough and that she needed to back off. Which she did, that is, until she arrived this morning and thought she’d try to pack months of criticism into one morning. Betty didn’t need to deal with this today, of all days, so she grabbed her phone and sent an SOS text.

 SOS... Send reinforcements to slay the dragon and save the princess...

 “Mom, I'm sure it will be fine,” Betty tried to stop the discussion but Alice was having none of it and cut her off. 

 “Elizabeth, I just don’t want those extra pounds you’ve added these last few weeks to show through because you didn’t properly shinch your corset. Now- “ Alice was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

 “Hey Alice, Dad said he needs your help. Something about his tie or something?” Jellybean smiled sheepishly but winked at Betty once Alice turned her back. Betty smiled, mouthing her thanks to her future sister-in-law.

 “I swear, I have no idea how that man survived all those years on his own without me,” Alice scoffed as she marched out of the women’s dressing area. Betty was grateful when Veronica walked back in the room, an apologetic look on her face and holding two lattes.

 “I am so sorry, B. I swear I didn’t mean to leave you alone with her this morning,” Veronica apologized.

 “It’s ok Ronnie. Jug took care of it,” Betty smiled, sipping her cinnamon dulce white chocolate mocha.

  12:02 pm - Jughead

  Betty: SOS... Send reinforcements to slay the dragon and save the princess...

 “Dad, get your woman before I have Sweet Pea hogtie her and toss her in your truck,” Jughead groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in his frustration.

 “Oh Lord, what’s she doing this time, boy?” FP asked. Jughead didn’t answer, just handed him his phone to show FP the text from Betty. “Alright, I’ll take care of this. JELLY!” he yelled.

 “Yeah Dad?” Jellybean said, walking in from the hallway where she and Sweet Pea were talking with the rest of the wedding party.

 “We have a code viper in Betty’s room, can you handle it for us please?” Jelly nodded, running out the door.

 “Code viper?” Jughead smirked. 

 FP simply shrugged and smiled at his son. “You’ve met that woman, right?”

  And when my love for life is running dry,

You come and pour yourself on me.

 2:00 pm - Betty

 “Betty, you look beautiful,” FP choked, grinning as he walked up to her at the front of the church. She beamed at FP, tears pricking her eyes.

 “Thanks FP, you clean up well yourself,” she chuckled. She was thankful to have FP in her life as her surrogate father. After everything that happened with her father and his death, she never thought she’d have a chance to be walked down the aisle properly. But after living with FP and Jellybean her senior year, he really became the father she no longer had and she was so grateful.

 “Are you nervous?” he asked. 

 Betty shook her head and smiled, “Not even a little bit.” 

 The music began and FP offered her his arm, “Let’s make you a Jones.” Betty placed her tiny hand in the crook of his arm and grinned. This was the moment she’d been waiting for all her life.

  2:00 pm - Jughead

  The doors opened slowly and Jughead lost his ability to breathe. At the end of the aisle, standing beside his father, was the most beautiful vision he had ever seen. Betty’s dress, form-fitting until just past her hips and flaring out at the bottom, made her look like a princess in a fairytale. Her veil had tiny diamonds that sparkled like the stars in the sky, catching the light with every step she took towards him. 

 When their eyes locked, Jughead could feel the tears dripping from his eyes despite the goofy grin that was plastered on his face. He could see that Betty was as much in the same boat as he was, her smile rivaling the sunshine and her hands gripping tighter to the bouquet of wildflowers in her hands.

 As his future stepped up to stand beside him, he knew that his life was finally complete. He had loved her for so many years that he couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t. His whole life had been leading to this moment and he was speechless. Betty placed her hand in his and squeezed, grinning at him.

 “Hi Juggie.”

  If a man could be two places at one time,

I'd be with you.

Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.

 3:33 pm - Betty

  “I met Betty in my sophomore year of highschool when my family moved to Riverdale from the city. She was my tour guide at Riverdale High and the moment we met, I knew she would be my best friend. And even though we have had our ups and downs in the past, I have never regretted a moment that I have spent with her. My life would be incomplete without her,” Veronica paused to wipe a tear from her eyes, “Oh, and Jughead is ok too, I guess.” Everyone burst into a fit of laughter.

 “In all seriousness, I have been around Jughead and Betty throughout their entire relationship and I can safely say I have never seen two people more in love. Well except for my Archikins and I,” everyone chuckled again at the nickname, “Jughead, Betty, I wish you all the happiness in the world and I know that, without a doubt, there is not two people more suited for each other then you two. I love you guys, salud!” Veronica held up her glass as everyone chapped and sipped their champagne.

  3:35 pm - Jughead

  “Thanks everyone, um, I have known Betty and Jughead for my entire. We have all been friends since we were still in diapers and our parents would bathe us together,” Betty and Jughead blushed as people giggled, “Um, yeah but we have been through a lot together. I was actually really shocked when I first found out that they were dating, just simply for the fact that I never saw it coming. No one did really. But I remember seeing them one day outside Southside High and, with the help of Ronnie, I realized that they were soulmates. And I also realized that I wanted what they have with each other. I got lucky and found my soulmate too,” he paused to smile at Veronica, “Jughead, you have always been more like my brother than anything and I am so happy for you. You deserve to be with someone who will treat you like you are their whole world, and you’ve got that person beside you. Betty, you have been my rock since we were two years old. You helped me pass the second grade, you saved my life more than once when we were younger and I will always be thankful to have you in my life. You will always be my best friend and I am so happy that you and Jughead have found the happiness you both deserve together. I love you guys, cheers!”  

 If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,

I'd spend the end with you. 

And when the world was through,

  6:26 pm - Betty

  Betty was thankful she had decided to change into a more comfortable dress as she moved with Veronica on the dance floor, dancing to cringy Britney Spears songs just like they’d done so many times before. Betty bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder to see her husband standing off to the side, laughing and having a cigarette with Fangs and Toni, tie long gone along with his coat. 

 He had rolled up his sleeves earlier in the evening, showing off all the ink that he’d accumulated over the years that Betty loved to look at. His suspenders were hanging down around his hips in their usual place, his hair falling into his eyes and Betty couldn’t help but think of how sexy he was. And better still, how he was all hers. 

 She told Veronica she was taking a break and walked over to the bar for some bottled water. As she sipped her drink, she glanced back over to where Jughead was and caught him staring at her while taking a drag from his smoke. She winked at him, biting her lip and slowly walking towards one of the coat closets near the front of the reception hall. Just before opening the door to step inside she ran the tip of her tongue around the rim of the water bottle and grinned, knowing he wouldn’t be far behind.

   7:44 pm - Jughead

  “Mmm, Betty?” Jughead pulled away panting, lips bee stung from ravaging his wife in the tiny coat closet. Her breasts heaved as she tried to find her voice, “Yeah?” she said, latching her lips to his neck, sucking a dark bruise for everyone to see.

 “Do- um, do you think they’ve noticed we are missing yet?” Jughead asked, moaning loudly at the feeling of his wife's tongue on his bare skin. A loud banging at the door startled them both causing them to jump apart like two teenagers.

 “Yes, we know you’re missing and yes, the entire banquet does know what you are doing in here,” Veronica shouted through the door. Jughead’s face turned bright red as Betty burst into laughter and threw her arms around his neck.

 “Take me to our room, husband. I have plans for you,” Betty grinned. 

 “Don’t threaten me with a good time, wife,” She squealed with laughter as Jughead threw her over his shoulder and pushed the door open to make a mad dash for the elevators. 

  Then one by one the stars would all go out,

Then you and I would simply fly away

[reallyginnyf]

My town. My hometown newspaper. Bill Miller Sr., the owner/publisher/editor-in-chief chose a highly-offensive Tom Stiglich cartoon for publication in the editorial section yesterday. I’m not going to post an image because it’s disgusting and hits on every false stereotypical trope you can imagine, the less said about the POS cartoonist, the better. The fact that Bill insists in his apology that we don’t need to defund the police, we need to work towards community-based policing shows that he has done exactly zero research on the issue. He’s an old, racist, hateful white dude who uses nothing but Fox News talking points in his editorials.  

Shortly after the newspaper hit the stands, a resident went to the business office. He asked a simple question. Could Bill explain why he made the choice to publish such a hateful cartoon? In the video of the confrontation, Bill is heard calling this person “ma’am” in a derogatory fashion, telling them he is not sorry and to leave the premises. The photo editor and the features editor are also heard begging Bill to apologize, to please, please apologize. Bill refused. The photo editor then followed the resident out the door, in tears, begging for forgiveness.  

We have had several well-attended and peaceful protests in our town. The Missourian staff not only offered unbiased coverage in the face of extremely vocal opposition (as they should have but hey, small-town newspaper in a white racist town, I’m going to give them begrudging props for that) but the photo editor and features editor were also active participants in the marches and gatherings. The paper recently called out a local farmer with business ties to St. Louis restaurants who posted a hateful and racist meme on Facebook. The farmer lost all of his restaurant contracts, as he should have. 

Are they perfect? No, but they are trying. We have a lot of work to do in this community, so much work, especially when our local anti-racism group (who likes to sit in the Lutheran church basement and eat crullers and discuss books on racism) actively distanced themselves from the protests and protestors, even going so far as to forbid any of their members from wearing their fancy NEIGHBORS UNITED merchandise to the protests, but I digress. Shortly after the confrontation in the office, the photo editor and features editor wrote a joint apology indicating that the fault lay entirely with Bill Miller Sr. and that they were DISGUSTED (all caps was their choice) with his editorial decisions. Which I question, surely someone else looked the paper over before it went to publication, but again, small-town newspaper with a staff of maybe 7 or 8 outside of the printing operation so who knows.

What makes this particularly interesting (other than a hateful white dude in a position of power having his feet held to the fire for once in his life)? The editors are sisters and Bill is their father. They submitted a joint resignation from The Missourian this afternoon, citing the fact that they did not have enough editorial power to assure something like this didn’t happen again. I’m sure the conversation went along the lines of, “for fuck’s sake, dad, apologize and then step down from your position or we’re leaving.” And the hateful old fart was so stubborn he called their bluff. But then several other senior staff members followed the sisters out the door.

It remains to be seen what the fallout will be, but scuttlebutt around town tonight, nothing official yet, is that Bill has indeed stepped down as owner/publisher of The Missourian and turned the newspaper over to another daughter, one who did not speak out against him publicly.  There are protestors at the offices tonight and a larger protest planned Saturday. This small-town version of King Lear should be interesting and I hope some lasting good comes from this whole mess.

[morbid-n-macabre]

Bart Corbin: The murders of the dentist:

Bart was a very successful dentist in Lawrenceville, Georgia, and he was married to Jennifer Corbin. Together the couple led a nice life, they owned a beautiful new home, nice new vehicles, and they had two perfect little boys, Dalton and Dillon. The family had the means to take extravagant vacations, like cruises to Italy; everything seemed to be so perfect, on the outside anyways.

Jennifer had not been happy for some time now. She was aware of the affair her husband was having with his secretary. Jen had been lonely, and Bart was not exactly kind; he could be abusive, not only towards Jen, but also their young children.

In January of 2004 Jennifer decided to work on herself, she was determined to get her confidence back. She began working out to lose her extra baby weight, and she picked up a day job working at a church's preschool while the boys were at school. Then Jen's mother surprised her with an online game called EverQuest, mom had been playing it and decided that her daughter might want to join.

Jen was soon obsessed with her gaming, and she and Bart were fighting more than ever; she'd even asked Bart for a divorce!

See, Jen had met someone on EverQuest; his name was Chris, a man from Missouri. They had been sending constant emails, and chatting on the phone at all hours. Jen felt special again, she fell hard and quick; this new couple began making plans for a new life, plans which did not involve Bart Corbin. The dentist, having had his own affairs, quickly picked up on the signs of infidelity.

On Friday, November 10th of 2004, Jennifer's new world game crashing down. Chris couldn't keep up his charade, and admitted that he was really a she. Her name was really Anita Hearn, she was a married mother with children of her own; Jen had been catfished. She was absolutely devastated; Jen told her sister about her affair, and admitted that she still loved her online lover, regardless of the person's gender. The couple were planning to meet on Thanksgiving weekend, and prove their love for one another.

The Corbins spent Thanksgiving at her sister's house; Jennifer seemed happy enough, but Bart was brooding; the dentist had spent most of the holiday locked in the basement. At 6 pm, Bart demanded that it was time they returned home; the dentist made a pit stop at a local grocery store and Jen ran inside real quick. She made the mistake of leaving her phone in the vehicle with Bart, and this is when he found proof of his wife's affair. There were love poems on the device, and Bart confronted Jen immediately. Bart punched Jen right in the face as the boys in the back seat cried. Jen called her father, she and the boys went to stay at his house for a few days.

On Monday, November 29th of 2004, Bart Corbin filed for divorce. The dentist asked for custody of the children and to be awarded all of the couples’ assets, including the home. The very next day, Bart discreetly drove to Troy, Alabama, where he met with his friend Richard Wilson to borrow a .38 Smith & Wesson. He told his friend that Jen had been having an affair and he was afraid for his life. Meanwhile, Bart and Jen's young son had a premonition: the 7 year old child was telling everyone at school that his father was about to kill his mother. Somehow he already knew what was coming.

By December 1st Jen had left her parent's and returned home temporarily, just until she could acquire her own place. When she woke up this morning, Jen found her purse on the floor; her new cell phone, a credit card, and some personal papers were missing. She knew Bart had been in the bedroom as she slept, and that he'd taken her belongings. The couple quarreled, and she called 911; the operator listened as Bart ran over Jennifer's foot with his car. Still Jen refused to press charges; the two decided to try and get along, for the boys sake. Jen wanted peace, but she would never have it.

At 1:45 a.m. on December 4th, Bart's parent's neighbor, Steve, noticed the dentist pull into the driveway of his family's home. Just a few hours later, little Dalton ran to a neighbor's house in his underwear; he was crying, saying that his daddy had killed his mommy. 911 was alerted.

While Jen and the boys slept, Bart had snuck into the house. Using a pillow to muffle the sound, he shot her in the back of the head at point blank range, instantly taking his wife's life. He then pulled Jennifer’s body into a semi-sitting position and placed the gun in her hand, attempting to make the murder look like a suicide. He then left his boys alone in the home to discover their mommy's corpse.

After Jen's murder, Bart didn't even take his boys with him, they were left in the care of Jen's sister. The dentist lawyered up immediately.

This wasn't Bart's first murder. He had gotten away with it years before, and he fully intended to get away with it again.

Nobody left Bart Corbin and survived.

Back in 1987 Dolly Hearn had been enrolled in the Medical College of Georgia School of Dentistry in Augusta. Her father had been a dentist, and she wanted to walk in his footsteps. Dolly was drop dead gorgeous, she reminds me of a young Delta Burke; she was vivacious, intelligent, and charming. Again, you'd be hard pressed to find someone who disliked this bright young woman. It was in dental college that Dolly met Bart Corbin; they had fallen in love and began spending every waking moment together. Within months Bart had proposed; this took Dolly aback, and she politely declined. The ambitious college student had no intentions of allowing anything to come between her and her dreams, and a man wasn't gonna hold her back. But Bart wouldn't take no for an answer, he pestered her to accept his proposal and he became controlling, domineering. Dolly told several friends of Bart’s obsession with her; friends watched helplessly as Dolly began withdrawing into herself. Finally, she gathered her courage and broke off the relationship.

Bart simply couldn't handle the rejection. At first he begged and pleaded for a second chance, he even threatened suicide. Taking pity on him, Dolly began seeing him again, but not in she serious manner. In November of 1989, Dolly was ready to move on, she broke it off for good. Within days of the break up, bad things began to happen. Dolly was finding different windows and doors in her apartment left open, openings which she was certain had been closed, plus her car was vandalized. She knew it was all Bart's doing, and she did report it to police. Still, Dolly's heart was too big; she was aware that pressing charges would ruin Bart's career before it even began, so she dropped the charges. But Bart didn't stop here, he began stealing her dental tools, messing with her contact lens solution, he even stole her beloved cat, Tabitha! Then he ruined Dolly's senior project, a set of dentures which she'd been painstakingly working on throughout the year to make perfect; suddenly this bright young woman was flunking out of dental school. Bart wouldn't stop, and Dolly became so afraid that she borrowed her father's gun for protection.

Wednesday, June 6th of 1989 started out like any other: Dolly went about her usual routine, and Bart called her; she hadn't been home long when a friend knocked on her apartment door. Said friend came into the apartment, and noticed a man standing alone in the dark bathroom; sadly this friend didn't say anything to Dolly about it. They thought that Dolly must know he was there, and maybe she hadn't wanted anyone to know she had a man over. If only this friend had said something, Dolly might still be alive.

Later that day, Dolly’s roommate came home to find her sitting slumped over on the couch, covered in blood; a .38 revolver was laying in her lap. Despite the harassment, despite the fact that everyone said she would never commit suicide, police deemed the death a suicide. For the next 15 years there would be no justice for Dolly. When his first victim's parents heard of Jen's demise, they promptly contacted Jen's family. They immediately knew that Bart had done it again, and these two families who had never met before suddenly had a very strong bond; together they were determined to get justice for the women in Bart's life. Dolly's case was finally reopened, and police realized that the college student had not shot herself.

At Christmas of 2004, Bart was finally indicted for the murder of Dolly Hearn, and the next month he was charged with killing his wife. Thankfully the man who had given Bart the gun just a week prior to the murder came forward; because of this Bart plead guilty to the murders of his wife and former girlfriend. There dentist was sentenced to two concurrent life sentences and will be eligible for parole in late 2020.

There's actually a third murder in which Bart was suspected, a colleague and an acquaintance.

Jennifer’s sister, Heather Tierney, has officially adopted Dalton and Dillon. She has raised them alongside her own children. They are reportedly doing well. 17 years after her murder, Dolly Hearn was posthumously granted her Doctor of Dental Medicine Degree.

[memorylang]

Easter Epilogue in America | #35 | April 2020

Friday, March 6, 2020, I disembarked in North Las Vegas, Nevada, to a home I hadn’t lived in since high school 2015. I’ve been here a couple months now, by time of writing. 

With today’s stories, I bring you from my first days and weeks back in the States through April’s end. I share reverse culture’s shock’s role in my readjustment to Vegas life, as COVID-19 grew across the States. But I’m a hopeful man, so you know my stories end well. 

As a good friend reminded me the night I learned all Peace Corps Volunteers had to go, "The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in His way" (Psalm 37:23). Consider this the epilogue to my very fruitful, memorable, and—dare I write—life-changing adventures. I've no regrets. 

Overture

Week 1 (March 6-12) was a blessing, having just returned to an America vaguely like the one I knew. Gosh, I love fruit. Thankfully, a few friends saw me. 

Then Week 2 (March 13-19) brought big changes and new deadlines. But, meanwhile, Week 3 (March 20-26) began my home improvement operations. The following weekend saw a drive to Reno to see my 19-year-old sister at uni. 

Weeks 4 and 5 (March 27-April 9) saw my 21-year-old sister visit Vegas from LA, starting with the 24th birthday of my older brother and ending after Easter Sunday. 

Week 6 (April 10-16) began with Holy Week, then driving Sister back to LA, followed by the restart to fitness routines. My routines expanded, Week 7 (April 17-23). Week 8 (April 24-30), Dad visited that weekend, so I braved minor puncture wounds from yard work with him plus an excruciating medical procedure. Fitness routines continued, and I shifted my diet from a fruit obsession to increasing my protein intake. 

Week 9 (May 1-7) began by closing loose ends with my Peace Corps stories. I’ve begun next steps while home, as we lead into Mothers’ Day. 

Landing—Returned to Vegas

From tens of thousands of feet in the air, I felt the end of an era. Nine Mongolian months ended. 

The midday we landed, I wanted to get up and leave elsewhere, not to the house in Vegas. 

I’m an English teacher. It’s a school day. I should be teaching. 

My 18-year-old high school senior brother picked me up from the airport. Haha, he said he skipped English class to get me. Dad seemed upset that my bro missed class, but Bro had stable senioritis, with college plans secured. I loved the irony of skipping class to get a teacher. 

Neighborhood in Reverse Culture Shock

A few hours after we came home, I went forth to community walk around the neighborhood, trying to make sense of things. 

“Hello, how are you?” said someone in passing. “Oh, doing great,” I replied in usual fashion. 

Well, I wasn't [doing great]. 

As I walked I weighed how when I used to live in Vegas, in 2015, I was more concerned with, what's the newest game? What's the latest episode? Yet now I feel more detached, less purposeful. I continued on to the park. 

I love the fragrances and fresh air beneath the trees. I lied in the grass. 

In another way, I felt, I only tolerated Vegas. There's more for me out there. There are so many cities and places with people I'd rather see and be with. 

But God is with me here, too. It's the second Friday of Lent. 

School buses drove by as I walked home a couple hours later. Middle schoolers walked and biked my neighborhood. (Was it my neighborhood? I'd hardly reintegrated...) 

Middle schoolers jeered to each other about whatever. Some kids probably had crushes on each other but felt too shy to speak up, uncomfortable with the status quo. I felt like a watcher no longer a participant. Yet I was them, here, 10 years ago. 

I had some dinner then slept shortly after, from 6:30 p.m. to 1 a.m. in our home’s guest bed. There I realized, I might be sleeping here a while. 

Strange Days Ahead

By Saturday morning, my first one waking at home, I still felt I’d feel lonely without my senior cohort if I came back to Mongolia. Thankfully at least a half dozen said they plan to return. And senior cohort members who continued keeping in touch with me were great comforts. I still felt encouraged to apply to be a Resource Volunteer, sometime after conquering my 16-hour jet lag. 

“Frozen II” tracks from the day before looped in my head most mornings. Film themes of change, grief and controlling the few things we can felt uncommonly personal. From Saturday on, I looped English and Chinese tracks from “Frozen II” while coping with being home. One jetlagged 3 a.m. morning, I even transcribed and translated the tracks between languages. 

Later Saturday morning, I walked back to the park. I spotted a tree. So I climbed it. Surprisingly my park had a sturdy one. Who knew? The tree’s been here all the dozen years my family has... 

Atop its branches, I felt I might wake up from a dream and be back in Mongolia the next day. 

I felt still reeling from my bewildering first Peace Corps Week. From seven days ago, I left my Mongolian city, came among nearly 100 fellow Volunteers, joined half on a journey across Europe, then found myself back in Vegas with my four siblings still in school. So mystic. 

American Culture Redux

I’d jot general musings about culture during these first days back in the States. 

We say, “Pardon me,” as though the mere act of engaging a stranger in conversation might offend against a stranger’s time. 

In the West, we highly value possessions, and we treat time itself as something to possess. 

In the States, we travel separately to functions. We might chit chat some before or after. Then we part ways to do whatever we’ve already scheduled. 

I wondered if I should ask to visit people or accompany them. Would that be weird? I felt my integration habits of Peace Corps lingered. But I considered, I still had plenty I could do by myself, like taking time to process my sudden evacuation.

In the States, we decide against reaching out to people. Perhaps we fear simple greetings to friends, with nothing more, might impose on their time. On the flip side, I receive multiple messages per week from Mongolians simply writing to say good morning or hello—so pleasant. I should cherish others’ care, never reject. 

Resettling In

I cut my hand dropping down the tree, so I applied pressure, elevated the wound and headed home to clean and bandage it. I felt weirdly at ease, remembering Peace Corps health trainings. I recalled “Dear Evan Hansen,” too. 

My family was busy with life, so the house felt rather quiet and still most hours. Already, though, I brainstormed ways to keep busy as a Peace Corps Volunteer on admin hold. 

I began by finishing my Peace Corps blog stories. The day after, I’d already have my newest online, “Trilingual Adventures, My First Mongolian Winter | #22 | January 2020.” Coincidentally, that story was my last from before Coronavirus quarantines in Mongolia began. 

Mongolian friends still messaged me every so often. They're so kind. I hoped they wouldn’t lose hope I'll return. [Nine weeks later, they’re still hopeful.] Meanwhile, I still wanted to search for a Vegas Mongolians Facebook group when my jet lag was up and I felt ready to start speaking Mongolian again.

I considered planning a trip to my alma mater in Reno, Nev. for a week later that month, once I settled more into the States’ routines. On the topic of routines, I decided maybe I'd visit church most weekdays to establish some semblance. I'd help my folks as best I could, so I’d still feel like I'm serving somebody. I even thought of getting my 23-year-old brother's bike repaired, to borrow it every so often! 

To end that reflective weekend, later that Saturday, my little brother drove me to the bank to deposit the funds I withdrew earlier that week in Mongolia. Then he treated me to my first American fast-food in a while. I attended Mass for the first time in weeks that evening. On Sunday, I marveled at seeing free to-go boxes, when Dad’s fiancée’s family invited my brother and I to celebrate the oldest daughter’s birthday. I enjoyed my first Thai tea in a long while. 

That week, I frequented daily morning prayer, rosary and Masses at church. Then walked around the community and continued blog tales either from the public library or from a local Starbucks (coincidentally the same one in which Black Friday 2018 I committed to Peace Corps service). On separate days, a couple friends also reconnected with me. I attended Mass seven of eight days this period, returning to Reconciliation that final Saturday and dreaming dreams most every night two weeks thereafter. 

Peace Corps Global Evacuation

Week 2 (March 13-19), my cohort learned we were being reclassified as being Returned Peace Corps Volunteers—as in, we’d officially completed our service. This followed with sudden paperwork, thankfully not due for a few weeks. This led to global headlines of all Peace Corps Volunteers coming home, too.

Between home projects to tidy the house or weed the yard, I joined up with the National Peace Corps Association group writing to our legislators to support Returned Peace Corps Volunteers worldwide. I spent the days preceding the Holy Triduum completing my final paperwork. 

I felt comforted nonetheless Peace Corps Mongolia insisted we could reinstate, assuming Mongolia’s situation resolves within the next year. I felt willing to take that bet. 

COVID-19 Escalates Across the States

My second week, church closed. I still frequented the park but felt amazed to see more people than usual. A couple more friends reconnected. 

A few weeks later, businesses shut down, schools closed, and I felt more adjusted. America was looking like the rest of the world. I trusted Americans generally had a good sense of sanitation practices, so I felt less concerned about establishments open. Mongolia lacked drive-throughs, so businesses there often closed outright. 

But my weekend between Weeks 3 and 4, March 26-28, felt the first time I heard how rapidly COVID-19 escalated in the States. My little brother played podcasts as we drove to deliver supplies to our uni sister sheltering in Reno. From the news, I heard the U.S. now led the world in Coronavirus cases. That sounded bad. I felt especially baffled hearing that Nevada, with a population slightly less than Mongolia’s, topped over 100 times as many cases. I felt more at risk in the States! 

During the trip, I also encountered American jargon, like, “Out of/due to an abundance of caution…,” “social distancing” and “Flatten the curve.” I felt critical of whether many Nevadans really knew what the jargon meant, considering how many cars remained on the road, how close people gathered in parks and how shoppers hardly kept distance. Though, I also recognized that Mongolian media might have used similar stock phrases that I just didn’t know... Nonetheless, Mongolians officials seemed more willing to pause operations to let health workers build capacity, and citizens tended to comply. 

If any last brave friends wanted to see me, the closest we got to physical touch was to raise our feet toward each other and bump our shoes, as bros might fist bump or clasp hands. I commented touching each other’s feet together in Mongolia would’ve been a serious taboo, hehe. Still, I left those as my last in-person meet-ups to #StayHome and limit concerning others.  

Perks of Being American

At home, my time zone matched most friends’ again, which made phone and video calls so feasible. I chatted with whoever reached out or replied to my outreach, which led to lovely chats with relatives, mentors, past classmates, fellow Peace Corps evacuees and more. 

Introverted friends inspired me much when I checked in with them. They joyously shared how much time they’ve had for uninterrupted time to themselves and work from home. Introverts often touch my soul. 

Being an ambivert feels weird for me sometimes, in how I straddle both sides. Extroverts often seem the ones I want, but introverts seem the ones I need. Nowadays, when being extroverted takes the effort, I find inspiration flowing from introverted bliss. 

Community members I met in Mongolia continued keeping in touch with me, which helped me remember and stay close to my prayerful Lenten commitment to consult God on my projects. 

Easter 2020 #WithMe with Family

My fourth week, my 21-year-old sister, the USC junior, flew in to celebrate our older bro’s 24th birthday. She brought her Nintendo Switch, so I soaked up the fun of “Super Smash Bros. Ultimate,” Nintendo’s “ARMS” demo and Jackbox Games with the family. After unis went online, our older bro transitioned to quarantine with his girlfriend and her sisters, but he still visited to celebrate his birthday with us. 

I also felt joyful during Holy Week when the World Youth Day 2019 Mass soundtrack appeared on Spotify. It was an incredible choral and rhythmic masterpiece I never thought I’d hear again. I recently learned, too, a childhood best friend would receive confirmation this year—magnificent!

As on Sundays, I saw the Lent and Holy Week services on YouTube, between channels like Shalom World with Pope Francis, Ascension Presents with Fr. Mike Schmitz, Word on Fire with Bishop Barron, and Our Lady of Wisdom Newman Center with Fr. Nathan Mamo. A Kansan relative joked how COVID-19’s let us “attend” Mass in our jeans, haha. Dad’s fiancée and I talked about the newfound freedom to just choose any online pastor per week. 

My Easter 2020 apex came Good Friday. I felt moved by the Vatican’s Way of the Cross, which read Italian reflections written by incarcerated and those whose lives they affected or whose lives affect them. They reminded me, for many of us, COVID-19 is nothing compared to the ‘normal’ sufferings of those behind bars, starving for hope. 

Renewed Motivation

After Easter Sunday, my lil’ bro and I returned Sister to L.A., Dad returned to work in northern Nevada, and Older Bro returned to sheltering away. So since the beginning of Easter, April 12, 2020, I’ve spent my days seeking to accelerate into a newer, more stable motivated state. 

I decided first to honor Dad’s suggestion to work-out and, with my lil’ bro’s help, added focused fitness to my days. I borrowed my siblings’ game system and games to finish one I started years ago while on the treadmill. I personally doubled-down on blog stories to get two through a week. And, setting up my new horizon after, I started looking back into language studies. Week 7 (April 17-23) added my return to polyphasic sleep to boost productivity. 

I’m a hopeful man. So some days, especially between 4 and 6 a.m., I draw or write stories about the ideal life I wish I could be living. This helps me delve into where my yearnings really are, mentally. After seeing “The Rise of Skywalker,” I even doodled an Avatar like Rey meditating in the air. Then I try giving my wants back up to God, accepting I can’t have all those things right now. Usually this process illuminates desires I hadn’t acknowledged before. 

I also recognize the steps I can take now to draw me closer to my future desires.

I spend idle thoughts when possible praying for others. I realize with so many people already praying for me, I needn’t worry about myself, since I’m taken care of. Instead, I should think to the ones who do not know the hope I feel. I wish some encounter might intrigue them and offer new peace. Such exercises remind me too of my privileges and help root me in my giving self. 

Ecclesiastical Latin’s been a fun quest toward greater knowledge. It bridges both Mongolian and Spanish grammar, while drawing vocabulary I’ve encountered across English, Spanish, Mandarin Chinese and Mongolian, too. Plus I understand church music better now. It’s a fun journey. I found regarding Church language that Mandarin and Mongolian more frequently transliterated straight from the Latin, where English and Spanish adapted. Fun reading. 

Five Months of Freedom

I read the soonest I might return to Peace Corps service in Mongolia would be October 2020. So, I’ll be here in the Pacific time zone for long, if you want to call someday. I’ve cherished my adventures and look forward to those ahead.

I’m ostensibly home for the summer, so I plan to write at least once monthly a new piece sharing unpublished bits from Mongolia, maybe a few new tales from American life, too. 

Hard to believe after packing my Mongolian apartment, evacuating in our caravan to the capital, saying so-long to many, flying around the world and finally landing in Vegas, I’d finish revising and editing these blog stories #22 through 38. I’d been drafting them for months, weeks and days! At last, we’ve caught up. 

So, as the days come, I’ll rise, read Scriptures, reflect, journal, chat with Asia, take to the treadmill, play some games, see some films or shows, try to eat well, try to work most muscles, try not to strain something, then return to writing, other reading, napping, showering, sorting, teeth-brushing, thinking and marveling. This leaves plenty of time to socialize. And I do miss you, wherever you shelter.

Keep in touch, Friend! 

Up next is a 2020 Mother’s Day reflection. 

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

[mikeylawrence]

( cis-male) haven’t seen GABRIEL SAMUELS around in a while. the WILLIAM MOSELEY lookalike has been known to be (+) SPIRITUAL & (+) YOUTHFUL, but HE can also be (-) DECEPTIVE & (-) RECLUSIVE. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in THEOLOGY. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS FAITHFUL but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

okayyyy reposting Gabe’s intro! had it up when i had him before as peter. also like...don’t kill me if i accidentally call him peter. changing his name is fucking harder than i thought ajhkdahjkdh. LIKE THIS IF YOU’D LIKE TO PLOT.

homophobia tw

Garbiel Samuels was born a mere three minutes after his twin, Tatiana. After sharing a womb together, it only made sense that these two were destined to be close.

The twins were always a ray of sunshine at their church, their innocence and optimism always contagious. Around town they brought smiles onto everyone’s faces that they encountered.

Was that kind of kid on the playground who would drop whatever he was doing anytime another kid was crying, tending to them and comforting them and giving them his toys so that they’ll smile. It’s something he still does to an extent to this day.

Tatiana was always the more bold of the two, always wild and wanting to try new things while Gabe was shy, reclusive, more logical. They were a good balance. Tati forced Gabe to take risks and to get out of his comfort zone while Peter made sure she never got into too much trouble.

Knew from a young age that he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps to become a pastor. He felt like God was calling him. Though he didn’t always see eye to eye with his father and his teachings, he respected him and shared his love for their faith.

As the twins got older, Tatiana was better at making friends which Gabriel was always a little envious of? Everything seemed to come so effortlessly for her while his social anxiety made it a bit harder for him. She always insisted that he tagged along though so they shared a lot of the same friends even though he didn’t feel like he ever fit in with them.

It was during middle school that Gabriel started to realize his…affections for those of the same sex. And to be quite specific, it was Tatiana’s first boyfriend that he developed his first male crush on. It definitely didn’t help that he had to be the third wheel everywhere they went because their parents wouldn’t allow Tatiana to go anywhere without Gabriel, knowing how she often times got into trouble.

It was purely innocent, nothing came of it but because his church preached that homosexuality was a sin, Gabe’s internalized homophobia and self hatred started to eat him alive. He kept doing everything he could to rid himself of these blasphemous thoughts but as he got older they only got stronger.

Was convinced that it was God telling him that he needed to change his crowd, that Tatiana’s friends were too strayed from the church and God and that it was just sin tempting him, deluding him from his path of being a messenger of Christ.

So High School was when the twins started to drift apart and do their own things. Gabriel lost himself in youth group, volunteering, ministry and worship team while Tatiana lost herself in sex, drugs and partying. Without Gabriel to be around as her anchor, she started to free fall. But his feelings for Tatiana’s boyfriend had manifested into something not so innocent anymore so he knew he had to keep his distance.

The two of them were still close but things felt a bit more forced between their relationship as the secrets between the two started to fester and push them onto separate islands. It remained like this for 4 years.

Senior year of High School was when the two of them had their big reconciliation. Tatiana called Gabriel o pick her up and save her from a sketchy situation (I don’t have this…figured out yet so ima keep it vague). The two of them ended up going to their favorite spot to have a heart to heart, staying up until the sun rise as Gabe told her about his continuous homosexual thoughts and how they were getting out of control. Even told her about his crush. She said she wasn’t always the best Christian, but from her experience, God always answered prayers as long as they didn’t contradict his creation. And that maybe God made Gabriel exactly the way he’s meant to be. With a big ol’ heart which just so happened to be geared toward boys. And that there was nothing wrong with it.

So the two went to Lockwood, attached at the hip for the most part while respectively doing their own things. Gabe was now a small group leader at their church to middle school boys and also dedicated his time officially to studying the bible.

The death of his sister…God. His twin, his best friend. He’s honestly still in denial and is a mess but hasn’t…had a break down yet. His father took it the worst so Gabriel has been filling in for his sermons on Sunday. It honestly just doesn’t feel real =/

Struggling with his faith, his sexuality and his relations with the church

CONNECTIONS: Best friends, Bad Influence friends, A BIG OL SECRET CRUSH, maybe an ex of Tatiana’s where…something happened between them like something almost happened but didn’t, someone be his first GAY encounter it’ll be a fucking spiritual awakening for him i fucking swear, childhood friends, roommates, IDK everything…

[simjazzie]

Introduction to the Pierce Family

“Hello, all! I just wanted to introduce you all to a family that I have been playing for a while now. I am currently in generation three, and we are just now progressing to generation four.”

Kimberly Pierce (formerly Fournier) - She was born in Baton Rouge, Lousiana (Newcrest) to Bridgette Fournier and Theodore Fournier. She grew up, and a semi-strict and religious but loving household where manners, respect, and generosity were instilled from an early age.  She decided to take a leap and faith and move from her home, New England (Brindleton Bay). As time went on, she struggled to keep herself afloat. Everything seemed to improve when she met Drake Ness, the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. However, after she discovered she was pregnant outside of marriage, she felt her stomach drop to her knees. She knew her parents would be disappointed with her unexpected pregnancy. But she could have never imagined the reaction she would get from the person she thought had unconditional love for her. When she told Drake Ness about her pregnancy, he lashed out at Kimberly and told her to terminate the pregnancy and even gave her the money to do so. Pressured by her boyfriend and the looming disappointment from her parents, she went ahead with the termination of her pregnancy, which would forever leave her wrecked with grief and regret. The stress and trauma from doing something she did not want to do wreaked havoc on to her relationship with Drake and 6 months later the parted ways. A year and a half later, she meets Jonah Pierce who she develops a stable and strong friendship with. He was the only one she told about her termination, and he was understanding. He comforted her through hard times and was a listening ear. Slowly, their friendship began to develop into something more. One thing leads up to another, and they decided to make it official. After two years of dating, Jonah decides that it is time to take the next step and meet each other’s parents because he felt that Kimberly is and was the one for him. One night while having a romantic dinner at an Italian restaurant, he decided to propose. Three months later, they were married. They now have five children (in order for oldest to youngest): Emersyn May Pierce, Jaece James Pierce/Joelle Marie Pierce (twins), Malachai Jonah Pierce, and Kaydence Jay Pierce. 

Kimberly is also a professional singer and has released one album! Her singing interests include gospel and ballads. 

Fun Fact: She used to be a foster care mom! She fostered several children including one that she adopted into her family! 

CHECK OUT THE PIERCE FAMILY TREE!

Jonah Pierce: Jonah was born in Colorado (Oasis Springs) to Virginia Pierce and  Pierce. He grew up similar to Kimberly, where his parents instilled in him values such as respect, generosity, and manners. However, he grew up more free-spirited do to his mother being a painter. His father was a full-time pastor at the local church in their town. Jonah also grew up with two siblings, a brother, Kyle Pierce, and a sister Chole Pierce. He decided to move to New England (Brindleton Bay) to pursue a career in the culinary arts as a food critic. There he met Kimberly Fpurneir who was his next-door neighbor. When he first met her, he was in awe of her beauty, and as he got to know her, he loved her personality and her giving nature. Jonah knew when he met Kimberly that one day she would become his life partner. he decided after meeting Kimberly’s parents that he would propose to Kimberly right away so on a beautiful evening he took her out to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant where he proposes next to the candlelight. After the wedding, they decided to move to New York City, NY (San Myshuno) so that they both could advance their careers as a food critic and singer. As of present day, they both live happily together in Los Angeles, CA (Del Sol Valley), where Jonah has a successful career as a food critic and a YouTube Pastor ministering to millions of people across the sim globe! He has won several awards for his youtube videos. 

Emersyn May Thurman (formerly Pierce) - The firstborn of Jonah and Kimberly Pierce, Emersyn was musically talented from a young age. Joining the chorus club as a child really allowed for her to hone her natural, God-given skill set! Emersyn is a social butterfly and as a consequence has always had a group of friends around her which includes Tasha Flex, Katie Landgraab, Samantha Suzuki, Cameron Thurman, Hannah Lopez, and Kailey Delgato. However, one friend caught her attention, especially, and that was Cameron Thurman. As a teenager, she was a part of the acting and Chorus clubs and still hanged around the same friend group. Cameron who she had had a crush on ever since they were children became more than friends and officially started dating. They are now married with a newborn. But could paradise be in trouble? Stay tuned for more! 😬😬😬

Jaece James Pierce - Jaece and his twin are polar opposites. Jaece as a child and teenager was super athletic and participated in the basketball team and scouts. He ended up dating his childhood crush much like Emersyn. However, the feeling was mutual between the two. Jaece was also a little more rebellious than his twin. He was caught by his father (Jonah) smoking MJ and doing the deed with his childhood crush and girlfriend, Emmalyn Braun (daughter of Penny Pizzaz). Currently, Jaece is in University pursuing athletics and expecting twins, a boy and a girl with Emmalyn who is a senior in high school. Stay tuned for more!

Joelle Marie Pierce - An aspiring actress and introvert, Joelle is destined for success. As a child, she was a part of the debate club, but interesting enough did not have many friends as her introvertness never made it easy for her to make friends. As a teenager partook in the acting club and won an award for her phenomenal performance as a participant in the club. Although Joelle did not find it easy to make friends, she did manage to find someone who understands her. They are now engaged! Joelle is now a young adult an is actively pursuing a career in acting.  Stay tuned for more!

Malachi Jonah Pierce - The fourth-born and who Jonah and Kimberly thought would be their last child, initially. Malachi, who is currently a teenager, is interested in becoming a well-known gamer. Therefore it is not surprising that he doesn’t have many friends. However, he has two love interests. Who will he choose?

Kaydence Jay Pierce -  Kaydence is the last of the Pierce children. What will her story be? 

CHECK OUT THE PIERCE FAMILY TREE!

[danikavisser]

( cis-male) haven’t seen PETER SAMUELS around in a while. the CODY FERN lookalike has been known to be (+) SPIRITUAL & (+) YOUTHFUL, but HE can also be (-) DECEPTIVE & (-) RECLUSIVE. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in THEOLOGY. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS FAITHFUL but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

AYO it’s me, madison again. i might bring tate back eventually but for rn i have so much muse for my lil pastor angel! im working on a new screenplay where our boy peter here is the lead. i aged him down and changed him a lot to fit in this group but im hoping it’ll help me get into his head a lil more! rping them always helps. ANYWHOO like this if you’d like to plot and i’ll message you!

Peter Samuels was born a mere three minutes after his twin, Tatiana. After sharing a womb together, it only made sense that these two were destined to be close.

The twins were always a ray of sunshine at their church, their innocence and optimism always contagious. Around town they brought smiles onto everyone’s faces that they encountered. 

Was that kind of kid on the playground who would drop whatever he was doing anytime another kid was crying, tending to them and comforting them and giving them his toys so that they’ll smile. It’s something he still does to an extent to this day.

Tatiana was always the more bold of the two, always wild and wanting to try new things while Peter was shy, reclusive, more logical. They were a good balance. Tati forced Peter to take risks and to get out of his comfort zone while Peter made sure she never got into too much trouble.

Knew from a young age that he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps to become a pastor. He felt like God was calling him. Though he didn’t always see eye to eye with his father and his teachings, he respected him and shared his love for their faith.

As the twins got older, Tatiana was better at making friends which Peter was always a little envious of? Everything seemed to come so effortlessly for her while his social anxiety made it a bit harder for him. She always insisted that he tagged along though so they shared a lot of the same friends even though he didn’t feel like he ever fit in with them.

It was during middle school that Peter started to realize his...affections for those of the same sex. And to be quite specific, it was Tatiana’s first boyfriend that he developed his first male crush on. It definitely didn’t help that he had to be the third wheel everywhere they went because their parents wouldn’t allow Tatiana to go anywhere without Peter, knowing how she often times got into trouble.

It was purely innocent, nothing came of it but because his church preached that homosexuality was a sin, Peter’s internalized homophobia and self hatred started to eat him alive. He kept doing everything he could to rid himself of these blasphemous thoughts but as he got older they only got stronger.

Was convinced that it was God telling him that he needed to change his crowd, that Tatiana’s friends were too strayed from the church and God and that it was just sin tempting him, deluding him from his path of being a messenger of Christ.

So High School was when the twins started to drift apart and do their own things. Peter lost himself in youth group, volunteering, ministry and worship team while Tatiana lost herself in sex, drugs and partying. Without Peter to be around as her anchor, she started to free fall. But his feelings for Tatiana’s boyfriend had manifested into something not so innocent anymore so he knew he had to keep his distance.

The two of them were still close but things felt a bit more forced between their relationship as the secrets between the two started to fester and push them onto separate islands. It remained like this for 4 years.

Senior year of High School was when the two of them had their big reconciliation. Tatiana called Peter to pick her up and save her from a sketchy situation (I don’t have this...figured out yet so ima keep it vague). The two of them ended up going to their favorite spot to have a heart to heart, staying up until the sun rise as Peter told her about his continuous homosexual thoughts and how they were getting out of control. Even told her about his crush. She said she wasn’t always the best Christian, but from her experience, God always answered prayers as long as they didn’t contradict his creation. And that maybe God made Peter exactly the way he's meant to be. With a big ol’ heart which just so happened to be geared toward boys. And that there was nothing wrong with it.

So the two went to Lockwood, attached at the hip for the most part while respectively doing their own things. Peter was now a small group leader at their church to middle school boys and also dedicated his time officially to studying the bible. 

The death of his sister...God. His twin, his best friend. He’s honestly still in denial and is a mess but hasn’t...had a break down yet. His father took it the worst so Peter has been filling in for his sermons on Sunday. It honestly just doesn’t feel real =/ 

Struggling with his faith, his sexuality and his relations with the church

CONNECTIONS: Best friends, Bad Influence friends, A BIG OL SECRET CRUSH, maybe an ex of Tatiana’s where...something happened between them like something almost happened but didn’t, someone be his first GAY encounter it’ll be a fucking spiritual awakening for him i fucking swear, childhood friends, roommates, IDK everything...

[anxiousace44]

This story took place around 4 years ago when I had just finished my first semester of college. I’m the oldest of seven children, and in many regards, I was seen as something of the golden child at the time (four-year varsity athlete in high school, cheerleader, perfect grades, valedictorian, National Merit Scholar, very involved in church, etc.) One area in which I did seem to be lacking was dating. I have never been a particularly flirty person (I’ll give you one guess as to why), and this was a topic of teasing from my family.

Generally, the teasing was fairly innocent, just a bit irritating. My brother, however, took things too far. He was constantly on my case about dating and the fact that I was doing none of it. I was getting ready to take some time off from school and go on a mission for church, and I was really invested in this goal of mine. When I came home for Christmas after my first semester at school 500 miles away, my brother, who had once been my closest friend, snidely made it clear he thought I would be happier if I gave up on my mission aspirations and just found a man to marry. Mind you, I was all of eighteen years old with extremely limited dating experience. My brother has always been a bit misogynistic (for reasons undetermined—he has a strong mother, five sisters, and a dad who chugs Respect Women Juice), and I knew his opinion came directly from the fact that he believed female missionaries are inferior and that a young woman should focus primarily on becoming a wife and mother. A perfectly noble goal for people that ideal fits, but his rigid views are incredibly sexist, and this picture-perfect idea he had for my life simply is never going to be in the cards for me.

I was home for an entire month over the winter break, and his harassment was getting to be too much for me. I asked my mom what I could possibly do to get him off my back, and she didn’t have a whole lot of on how to manage him, but she did recount the time her college roommate pranked her parents with a fake engagement to get back at them for being too pushy. I decided then and there to replicate the prank, but to pull it off in the digital age, I would need to take it to the next level.

Upon arriving back at school that January, I headed straight to Walmart and purchased a fake engagement ring. I went big and blingy, something anyone could notice from rather far away. I knew I wouldn’t need this prop for a few months still, but I was excited to get started. A few friends at college, my parents, sister, and some family friends were in on the joke, and the scheming ensued. The first Sunday I was back at school, I texted my brother that there were some new cute guys at church that semester and left it at that. About two weeks later, I sent word home (can’t remember if it were through text directly to my brother or through suggestion to my mom) that a guy had asked me on a date. He bombarded me with questions about the guy’s name, occupation, physical description, what the date would entail etc. I spun a tale about the guy’s backstory, claiming he was James Thompson of Arizona, a 23-year-old petroleum engineer at his first job out of college. I even made up a few details I can’t remember now about which school he went to, where he had served a church mission, and siblings he had. I kept the physical description vague, though, because I had yet to select a stand-in guy to pose for the photographic evidence I intended to provide. I simply said he was probably in the neighborhood of six feet tall with light brownish hair. That encompassed about 15 people I knew, which gave me plenty of material to work with. I also said James and I were going to have a Harry Potter marathon over a weekend, which was so on-brand for me and jealousy-inducing for my brother that none of any of this raised the slightest suspicion.

My brother was ecstatic. He is a famed loudmouth and was fairly popular in school, so before you could say “gossip,” half the local high school knew I had agreed to go on a date with a true stud. As I continued to feed him lies from afar, he kept everyone back home updated on the progress of my “relationship.” My sister, a true Slytherin and lover of subterfuge, encouraged his enthusiasm by speculating about hand-holding and kissing and the like. I told my brother we were going to dinner here, to a dance there, and more for months. I claimed he had gotten rid of his Facebook for his mission and hadn’t gotten around to creating a new profile yet, but a Google search revealed that there was a real James Thompson living in the area where I was attending school. On a group outing with friends, I snapped a picture of me next to a guy fitting the description I gave and sent it home as further proof. I soon learned that my family’s spring break would take place over April 1st, so I decided to bring the prank to its finale on that day. My family traveled 500 miles to visit me at school while they were on vacation, but before they did so, I informed them that James and I had agreed to be officially boyfriend and girlfriend. My brother literally ran outside and ran victory laps around the house upon hearing the news.

On March 31st, my family rolled into the city I live in sometime in the evening, and my mom called to ask if I wanted to see them right away. I politely declined, telling her to tell everyone I was going to dinner with James. In reality, I was in my dorm watching Netflix, but my brother didn’t need to know that. In the morning after a few classes, I met up with my family. I was wearing my fake ring, making a show of letting it catch light and sparkle. My family was still all inside the massive SUV we need just to cart everyone around, but upon seeing me and my bling approach, my brother leapt out of the car, ran toward me, picked me up, and yeeted me into the only empty spot while whooping and cheering, “SHE HAS A RING!” The other little siblings that were not in on the joke were equal parts excited and confused, and my mom, dad, and sister were doing their best not to break character. It was too funny for me to maintain for long, so as my dad started to drive us all off to lunch, I shushed all the rowdy kids and simply said, “Before we get too carried away, I have to say something.”

“What is it?!” my brother inquired with glee.

“April Fools.” I smirked.

My brother’s face fell. He took a breath and said, “All right…that makes sense…it’s really soon and that ring is really big…but…when do I get to meet James?”

“No, April Fools. James isn’t real.”

The outrage was comical and soooo satisfying. After a minute or so of rantings of pure, unadulterated betrayal, he simmered down and simply refused to talk to me for the rest of the day. The family was in tears from laughter, and we had a good time telling any random person who would listen about the incredible prank I had pulled for the rest of the vacation.

When my brother returned to school the next week, he had to sheepishly tell everyone he had been duped. Many of the kids and adults were shocked, some were awed, some were disappointed (wth people…I was 18), but all regarded the prank as incredible. I had only attended that school for one year after my family had moved when I was a senior, so not many people knew me well, but despite not even having spent much time there, I became a legend among the student body. When I came to visit after the end of the spring semester, my mom, who was substituting at the school that day, introduced me and reminded them of the prank. I was met with awed reactions, and my brother, brooding in a corner, was teased by his friends for falling for my joke. These sorts of interactions with his classmates continued until he graduated two years later.

tldr: I expertly faked an engagement to prank my misogynistic brother, and he told everyone he knew about it, so when I revealed the joke, he had to tell all his friends that he’d been played

[babydoll1947]

Let’s Talk: Mental/Emotional Abuse, from a Survivor

If you read my recent post, you have seen that I am a true crime lover, and have been watching the ID channel as if it may disappear when I’m not looking (kind of like this post did the first time I wrote it, but we’ll get to that). However, I have found that my obsession sometimes comes at a cost to my mental health. You see, when I watch these shows and hear about these horrible people with horrible traits... well, sometimes it triggers recall of some of the equally horrible traits of the man who once abused me. Now, do I think one day he will escalate all the way to murdering someone? No, I think there is a fairly slim chance of that, just given the lack of physical violence I have seen him exhibit. But, I could be wrong, and I sincerely hope everyone he encounters stays on their guard with him. Do I, however, believe this man is a sadistic psychopath who derives pure please from controlling and harming other people (especially women)? Yes, yes I do, with every fiber of my being. No matter the type, abuse is a topic people cringe at the thought of having to talk about. Trust me, the first time I wrote this before tumblr threw it off into the cosmos somewhere, it turned out to be one of the most difficult and painful things I’ve ever had to write. And, I do not relish the thought of having to write this all over again. But, even though we don’t want to talk about this, I believe that we NEED to talk about this. And yes, I said “we”, because it takes small actions from a whole lot of people to make a change in the world around us, not to mention the fact that I think everyone can gain something from the takeaways of abuse survivors. So, here I am, about to write about one of the worst years of my life, hoping to help others gain more understanding. WARNING: I am about to share graphic, detailed accounts of abuse. If you do not feel you can emotionally cope, that’s okay, please just skip to the end of the post for the recap. If at any time you feel you need support, please send me a message and I will be happy to direct you to some amazing resources! I met Chris... and I am choosing to use his real first name, as I do not feel he deserves any anonymity at all... when I was 17 and a senior in high school. When I said earlier that this man is a psychopath, I do not use that term lightly. Like, “Oh, that girl is psycho, like, totally cray cray!” I mean it in the full sense and scope of the disorder. I met him through a close friend who was seeing him, and our first real encounter should have sent off warning bells in my head. To protect the privacy and dignity of myself and my friend, I am not going into details of that particular encounter here, but I will say that it was sexual in nature. False promises were made to my friend to convince her to do this, and it was not an overall a good experience. Even with that, though, there was something so charming and alluring about him that you just felt pulled in. Right away I started seeing him on my own. At first, it was almost like a secretly agreed “sister wives” situation... each of us knew about the other, and knew we were both seeing him, but also both adored him so much that we didn’t seem to care. Over time, as we both started to want more with him, he would lie or manipulate the situation to keep us placated. Often, he would tell me he was not dating her, but tell her that he was. He loved to lie. Like, genuinely loved it. He once told me that half the time he would lie even when he didn’t need to, just to see what he could get away with and how many people he could fool. Another red flag I missed, since that is one of the hallmark traits of a psychopath. He could also fake any emotion necessary to obtain his end goal, even though I doubt he really felt much of anything. Before long, I was practically living with Chris and his roommate in their apartment. Despite this closeness, and his supposed care for me, we never “officially” dated. This is where things started to go haywire. He frequently would list off things he desired in a potential girlfriend, and I would jump through hoops to make them happen. I grew my hair out because he preferred long hair (even though I hated maintaining long hair), got French manicures because he didn’t like bright colored nails (even though I did), changed my mannerisms and reactions to be the “cool girl”, literally anything I had to do to please him. Sadly, I never realized that nothing I did would ever please him or be good enough for him... he just wanted to see how far he could push me. Over that year I morphed into a person I didn’t even recognize in the mirror. Then came the “reminders”, as I like to call them. He would not only talk about girls he liked from work or school, but bring them home with him when he knew I was there, parading them in front of me to remind me that I still wasn’t good enough. Next were the subtle put downs. Then the more serious put downs. Then came the tough love. So tough, in fact, the he held me by my arm while I was sobbing and trying to go home, holding me there until he was done telling me everything that was wrong with me. That was the closest he ever came to physical abuse, his hand wrapped around my forearm, but hell... sometimes I wished he would just hit me, thinking it would hurt less than his words piercing my heart and self-esteem. Still, I fell in love with him. Still, I stayed. Things continued to spiral, and with that spiral came the sexual abuse. That was undoubtedly the worst. His idea of sexual fun was to make me give him oral sex until he was almost ready to orgasm, then push me onto my stomach so he could fuck me for a few seconds until he came on my body. It was no longer about my pleasure or desires, only his. He convinced me that I would like being submissive, that I enjoyed it. He made me call him master, and bend to his will. On more than one occasion he would put me on my knees to give him oral sex, then hold me by my hair and half-drag/half-make-me-crawl over to him like a disobedient dog. Like an animal. I didn’t like it, but I just figured as long as it pleased him it was okay. I had only one hard boundary which I had communicated to him several times: I would not do anal sex. So, to get around this boundary, he decided to just rape me instead... One night as he was fucking me from behind, he pulled out of my vagina and ruthlessly thrust himself into my anus. I buried my face in the mattress and screamed, the pain being indescribable. He did not stop when I screamed. He kept thrusting until he finished inside me, and gave the final demeaning blow as I followed him into the bathroom: “This is why I don’t do anal, it makes your dick smell bad.” I sat on the toilet for several minutes in disbelief, dripping blood and cum into the bowl. I had never felt more humiliated in my entire life, and I don’t know if I ever will. But, he apologized (though he did not mean it), I forgave him (as I always did) and life moved on. Any time I tried to pull away from him, he made sure that didn’t happen. He would talk bad of people I liked, talk bad of me to the people I liked, and sabotage any attempt to let him go. The final few months of hell came with his drug abuse. He became addicted to Xanax and Percocet, and I became his caregiver and guardian, ensuring that he ate, finished tasks, etc., and watching over him on many sleepless nights, making sure he didn’t start to overdose in his sleep. He never once thanked me for helping him, or saving his life until he finally went into rehab. The only good thing that ever came of our relationship happened during one of his attempts to be sober: he began going to church, so I went with him and ultimately rekindled/strengthened my relationship with God. That relationship is what lead me to eventually leave Chris behind. As more time passed we slowly parted ways, him going into rehab and then halfway homes, and me leaving home permanently. Still, it took a very long time to remove him from my life completely. He was like a cancer that I had to extract from my soul one piece at a time, and it took me a lot of time, distance, and perspective to come to the realizations I have about who he really is. Here are the reasons why I am telling you all of this (if you didn’t want to read the details, come back now). First of all, something that still haunts me to this day is how nobody did anything to help me. I mentioned that he lived with a roommate, and they regularly had another friend at the apartment with them, but neither of them tried to intervene on my behalf. I know how hard it can be to confront a friend for doing shitty things, believe me I do, but we MUST do this. Please. If you are friends with someone who shows signs of being a perpetrator, please talk to them, or help the person they are with. The next thing is, please be understanding and patient with people who have survived or are currently experiencing abuse. I already know that a lot of you were thinking while reading my story “Why didn’t she just leave?” The answer is a simple one: I really believed that I loved him. I couldn’t process what was happening to me while I was still wearing the rose-colored glasses, and it can be extremely difficult to discern how bad a situation is in while you are still in it. Give your loved ones time to process what is happening, but still support and protect them as much as you can. Nothing is as black-and-white as it seems. Also understand that just because the abuse isn’t physical, it doesn’t make it any less damaging. I still struggle with the trauma to this day, seven years later. The last few days I found myself dealing with flashbacks and bouts of intense anger. It happens sometimes, and will likely continue to happen here and there for the rest of my life. And lastly, I leave you with this: If you have experienced abuse of any kind, or if you still are, I promise you that you will be okay. You are strong, a fighter, and a survivor. You are a WARRIOR. Time may not heal all wounds (I still have plenty of scars) but it truly does make it easier and less painful. There will come a day when the pain is not a constant ache, and when you can breathe freely again. Never, ever, EVER give up! I love you all, and I am always here for you! Thanks for going on this journey with me. 

[majellanmedia]

Family: Given As a Blessing Not a Curse

"What does your family mean to you?," one of the children was once asked.

"Nothing," she replied. "Mine was so extremely dysfunctional. My father is always drunk, my mother always beat kids. My brothers and sisters already got out of the house and I do not know what they are already doing and where they are. It(Family) is just something that I wish for that I know I will never have."

A HAPPY FAMILY. Are you also among those who are on an effort to find this?

Filipino family ties in the first years are excellent examples of high spirits and well-groomed families. Others would be jealous of how we get things done together -dine at church, go to a movie or go shopping and out, how the entire family will travel together to the airport whenever an individual from the family arrives as well as how parents are open to their children's worries and many more. However, for many, that was before. Prior to when families were receiving a lot of attention, time and attention.

Many Filipino families today still carry the image of a healthy family we had before. However, in the present there is a reality that the nation admirers admired because of its close family ties has was a place with a large quantity of broken houses, and unloved families.

Have you had an eye on some older photos of your parents in their senior years? They may not graduate with flying colors, but can you see in the photos the presence of siblings, parents and a few family members during the day? Most likely, you will. In our modern-day world it's possible to see an elated student crying as she receives her ribbons, medals, and certificates with only his great-grandmother who is unable to walk.

Today, young people are enthralled with dropping out of schools, joining fraternity organizations and engaging in premarital sexual sex, and some are now officially known as "batang ina" or "batang ama". Actually there is a report that states in the Philippines 1 in three 15-24 year young people have been involved in premarital sexual sex, as well as 14 per cent of females 15-19 have already become mothers. WHAT A WORRISOME NUMBER!

Researchers, using their efforts, provided the causes and reasons these activities are being enjoyed by children, in order for solutions or solutions to be found. Peer pressure, low self-esteem, fear of being rejected and more were all mentioned and almost all of them pointed the blame at each child's family.

Many define family as the circle in which they first began to feel Fears and for some it's a home in which Anger can reign; it is also a place where people have were abused; it is the circle that makes others are insecure about being with For some, it's the only thing they want to see again due to the experiences they have had, while for some, it's as if they are in hell and hear shouts and shouts.

[secretsocietyofstuff]

The

Egsa (old english | scary)

Spell (old english | news)

Ok.

The Biblical Patriarch Abraham (called the father of nations) had one wife and one sister- the same person- and several concubines and mistresses- each of whom begot him many children. Now, when these children grew up- he gifted them each with magical secrets and one by one sent them east as magi to gather initiates for the creation of Mystery Schools.

We know that, with the exception of Issac, the sons and grandsons of Abraham made their way through India, and even further into the Middle East where Abraham is credited as being the progenitor of Islam as is described in the Quran, though the religion did not officially begin until Mohammeds involvement many centuries after Abraham sent his sons away.

So, when during the birth of the Nazari

in Bethlehem he was visited by '3 foreign Magi from the East,' it takes a special significance in my mind that itches and begs to be tussed out.

That is why I am writing this.

It should be noted that there was never any mention in the original texts of exactly how many Magi attended his birth. It is thought that the authors were drunk. No. It is thought that the authors simply assumed that since there were three gifts..there must have been 3 magi to deliver them. Probably wrong. A supposed eye witness account of the magis journey popped up 300 years after the fact claiming that there were 12 or more traveling in the party.

This lends credence to the idea that this was an entire magical order (or at least its senior brethren;) that this order was almost certainly seeded by one of Abrahams sons or grandsons; and that they traveled not only to attend the Nazaris birth but also to examine the god-child and make sure it was of satisfactory health and temperament. The mother would have been looked at by a normal physician.

There are so many thing in just these two stories alone that I want to share with everybody. Things that would make a Southern Baptist stone my ass to death. Things that would make a Methodist very seriously consider leaving the church to worship Satan.

People just don't realize how fragmented the testaments have become. It was intended as a living document that existed in space but outside of time. There was a reason that the original Hebrew texts contained no punctuation and no vowels..at least until the Masoretes got ahold of it. Despite the scores of Southern parishioners taking absolutely everything they read in the Bible at face value- much of what is taken as 'Gospel Truth' has been either misunderstood, mistaken or even simply mistranslated. It isn't conjecture at this point.

Take the following example:

Go to Google translate and type in

"I am a peaceful man."

Now translate from English to Latin to Greek to Hebrew to Greek to Latin and then back to English again. (Almost exactly how we arrived at our most modern Biblical translation minue English at the begining..by the way)

Surprise, surprise. It now reads

"I have an airplane ticket."

The Nazari himself anticipated this ridiculous game of telephone, which is why he communicated his most important messages with parables. Because parables require deeper thought from the listener, deeper thought from the reader and thus deeper thought from the translator as well.

Moving on..

As mentioned in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas:

II. 1 This little child Jesus when he was five years old was playing at the ford of a brook / and he gathered together the waters that flowed there into pools and made them straightway clean [unintelligible] commanded them by his word alone.

2 And having made soft clay, he fashioned thereof twelve sparrows and nd it was the Sabbath when he did these things [or made them,] / and there were also many other little children playing with him.

3 And a certain Jew when he saw what Jesus did, making things upon the Sabbath day, departed straightway and told his father:

"Lo, thy child is at the brook, and he hath taken clay and fashioned twelve little birds. He hath polluted the Sabbath day."

4 And Joseph came to the place and saw: and cried out to him, saying "Wherefore doest thou these things on the Sabbath, which it is not lawful to do?"

So Jesus clapped his hands together and cried out to the sparrows and said to them: Go! and the sparrows took their flight and went away chirping.

5 And when the Jews saw it they were amazed, and departed and told their chief men that which they had seen Jesus do.

And Jesus smirked. [I added that last part in]

!! Astonishingly, at only 5 years of age the Nazari was demonstrating not only a latent understanding of magical systems but also an ability to apply that system to a PHYSICAL ALTERATION OF THE NATURAL WORLD. He was also showing signs of disdain towards the human beings for whom he had been created to protect. And that coupled with observations of the boys power had everyone in town, not least of all "his parents" deeply, deeply terrified and concerned.

Here again from the Infancy Gospel:

1 After that again he went through the village, and a child ran and accidentily dashed against his shoulder. And Jesus was provoked. He said "Thou shalt not finish thy course." And immediatelhetbe boy who provoked him fell dead at the Nazari's feet. and when some of the onlookers saw what he had done they wrenched at their garmets and said

"From whence was this creature born that every word of his is a great work or a miracle or an act of nature."

And then the parents of the boy he had slain marched unto Joseph, and blamed him, saying: "Thou who has such a child cannot dwell with us in this village unless he is taught to heal and not kill and to bless and not curse. For if he remains as is, he he will slayeth all our children / and then what of us?"

1 Immediately Joseph called the young child apart and admonished him, saying:

"Why are you doing these things? Why do you inflict such unforgivable suffering upon these people? So that they hate us and persecute us? Is this what you wish? But Jesus said,

"I know that these words are not your own (!!??) nevertheless for your sake and for the sake of suffering I will hold my peace.

"But them" Jesus pointed to the parents of the young boy he had slain."Them that accused me.. Them shall bear the weight of their punishment, too."

And straightway they that accused him became blind / and they began to moan and to scream in confused horror until little else could be heard in the town.

2 And they that saw it became even more afraid and even more perplexed / and said that every word which he spake whether it were good or bad, was a deed, or a marvel. So they began to very carefully walk away / pretending not to hear the anguish of their neighbors.

And when he saw what the Nazari had done / he arose and took hold upon his ear and wrung it purple. 3 And the young child was wroth and said unto him:

11l

O. "It sufficeth them to seek but not to find, and verily thou hast done unwisely: Don't you know that I am not my own? Vex me not."

I know what you're all thinking. I spent a year of my life going over this document and asking every difficult question that I could think of. So let me save you some time..

1. The document is authentic. The narrative account matches those of others which which say the same thing in their own texts. Even with evidence, perhaps out of fear, I might have dismissed this manuscript if it weren't for similarly described behaviors by another, far older 'Son of God(s); Gilgamesh, King of Uruk- The (weirdly) 3/4 God King of Mesopotamian Sumeria. If you'll recall, Gilgamesh would routinely rape women in the streets in from of their Fathers and Brothers. He once enslaved a quarter of HIS OWN people....HIS OWN PEOPLE...to build ziggurauts in honor of the Gods- a pantheon to which he technically belonged.

Both Gilgamesh and the Nazari began their brief human existences as supremacists. Their distaste for humanity was oozing off of every word they spoke and off of every action they took. And both of them had to be 'corrected;' Gilgamesh by the Gods (through the creation of Enki-Du, a bizarre man-animal hybrid who challenged Gilgamesh to fight after fight until his rage and hatred subsided.) And the Nazari by his human keepers...though not NEARLY as successfully as Gilgamesh. Here is a link to something I wrote about Gilgamesh a few months ago. It may help to clarify whats happening here in case I miss something.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=246927900243739&id=100047795931957

The Gospl continues:

VI. 1 Now a certain teacher, Zacchaeus by name, stood there and he heard in part when Jesus said these things to his father and he marvelled greatly that being a young child he spake such matters. 2 And after a few days he came near unto Joseph and said unto him: Thou hast a wise child, and he hath understanding. Come, deliver him to me that he may learn letters. And I will teach him with the letters all knowledge and that he salute all the elders and honour them as grandfathers and fathers, and love them of his own years.

"And Joseph chuckled." Is what I would have written, because..

3 And he told him all the letters from Alpha even to Omega clearly, with much questioning. But Jesus looked upon Zacchaeus the teacher and saith unto him: Thou that knowest not the Alpha according to its nature, how canst thou teach others the Beta? thou hypocrite, first, if thou knowest it, teach the Alpha, and then will we believe thee concerning the Beta. Then began he to confound the mouth of the teacher concerning the first letter, and he could not prevail to answer him. 4 And in the hearing of many the young child saith to Zacchaeus: Hear, O teacher, the ordinance of the first letter and pay heed to this, how that it hath [what follows is really unintelligible, but it disturbingly picks up..]

VII. 1 Now when Zacchaeus the teacher heard such and then so many allegories of the first letter spoken by the young child, he was perplexed at his answer and his instruction being so great, and said to them that were gathered there:

Woe is me, wretch that I am, I am confounded! I have brought shame to myself by drawing to me this young child.

2 THIS CHILD IS NOT EARTHLY BORN: this is one that can tame even fire: this is one begotten before the making of the world!

WHAT BELLY BORE THIS? what womb nurtured it? Woe is me, He putteth me from my sense, I cannot follow his understanding. I have deceived myself!

Goddamn. GODDAMN. I mean what the fuck, man? I remember reading this for the first time and simultaneously remembering what the older version of this creature said to his people in Mathew 10:34;

'Do not assume that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.'

~shudder~

I'll explain how truly terrifying that statement really is in part 2.

-Chad