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miss-kittyy · 3 years

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Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

#I imagine grasspelt as a chill stoner dude #next I’m gonna revamp my Ivypool PTSD headcanons cause I also have that lmao #warrior cats #warrior cats ableism #ableism #disability #warriors #briarlight #Grasspelt #briargrass #was #Longtail #warriors au #autism #warrior cats au #wa riot cats rewrite

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harrylee94 · 3 years

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Log Entry XXXXXX - Chapter 4

Summary: A new space station, complete with the most high spec and up to date technology there is to offer, has been set up at the edge of the known universe, a new way point for explorers to keep in contact with the rest of the human race. It has been carefully designed by the best scientists and engineers Earth could offer, and now 7 brave souls are being sent out to ensure everything works perfectly.

However, when Logan wakes from cryosleep from the journey, he is informed that several things are now in need of repair, though everything had been in perfect working condition when the station had been reconstructed before he and his crew had arrived. They will have to solve the problems they’ve been left with before the station is up and running, and yet Logan can’t help but feel he’s done this before…

Relationships: Intrulogical (Remus/Logan)

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Parasites, Remus having an overactive imagination, It’s an Among Us crossover so there will be bad stuff afoot.

A/N: This was so difficult to write, partly because I got a job, but mostly because it was emotionally draining.

For those of you who don’t know, this story is based off of a comic by @fangirltothefullest which I HIGHLY recommend you check them out on the link above! Their art is AMAZING.

Note to everyone before we begin; there will be graphic descriptions of gore, dismemberment, possibly torture, and any other awful things that come with the territory of writing a story in an Among Us universe.

Link to; Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

To read it on AO3 please click here.

Chapter 4: Log Entry #14

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:20 AM

Logan watched Remus as he prepared their breakfast of pesto spaghetti, holding his coffee in hand. He had re-lived this day a dozen times over now, each time a little bit different from the last, but always ending the same; with his death. He had tried to keep people away from the Medbay a few times, but no matter what he did the creatures always found a new host. As far as he knew Roman, Virgil, Patton and Orange had all been in that destructive path, and he had seen what those Things had done to his friends a small handful of times, but never what they looked like before.

He had put off going there himself to see if there was any other ways he could discover more about these beings other than what they could do once they had latched onto their host -- or so he’d been telling himself, as fear wasn’t logical, especially considering all other logic had decided that it didn’t want anything to do with Sanders Station -- but now he knew he would have to do it. He had to see what it was, what they did, and perhaps then he would be able to make a more competent and effective plan to combat them.

He noted Remus giving him a worried look and tried to give him a reassuring smile in return. He had told him, as he had almost every time since the first, and every time Remus would try to comfort him with his presence, though those looks were something that could never be avoided. He was starting to hate them, even though he knew there was nothing more than concern and love behind them.

The familiar bowl slid into place in front of him, fork sticking out of the steaming nest of noodles in the middle, and Remus slid into the seat beside him, digging into his own breakfast. Food was always a distraction, a way for Remus to gather his thoughts, and while this wasn’t his usual comfort food, the way he was eating it implied as much.

“So what are we going to do?” the man asked, mouth full of yellow-green mush.

Logan sighed. “We’re going to do something that will likely end in one, or both, of us becoming the host to some parasitic alien lifeform and use our bodies to murder all of our friends.”

Remus hummed as he continued to eat. “Sounds like fun.”

“No it doesn’t.”

Remus hummed again, swallowed, and took another bite, getting bits of pesto on his cheeks as he slurped up the pasta. “I’ll go in first.”

“Remus-”

“That way you’ll be able to see what it is and what it does.” Remus met his gaze. “If we do both go, then you should at least get as much out of this as possible. Before the restart I mean.”

“I don’t even know if there will even be a ‘restart’ if I do this.”

“But you’re doing it anyway,” he said as he played with his pasta, picking some of it up with his fingers. “You were going to go in there on your own.”

“What?” How did he-? “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you, Logan. You would go in there on your own if you didn’t know I’d follow you.”

“You didn’t the first time.”

“I didn’t know the first time,” Remus said and shoved his handful of pasta in his mouth. “Eat up, Logie-Bogie. And don’t even think about not telling me in the future! I know when you’re hiding something from me, and then I’ll hound you like a goblin shark attacking the corpse of a sperm whale that’s rotting and bloated after it’s sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

While the imagery was slightly obscene, Logan knew he was telling the truth and he sighed. “I hate you.”

“Love you too my adorkable nerd.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 7:10 AM

Acting like everything was normal was perhaps one of the most difficult and stressful things Logan had ever done, especially since he knew Janus had noticed that something was wrong almost immediately. Luckily, all the man had done was raise his eyebrow at him in question but had ultimately let the matter drop and everyone had gone off to begin their tasks in peace.

This time, however, Virgil was helping Janus in the Communications room. Within hearing distance of Roman.

Remus had picked up one of the empty fuel containers from storage once everyone had gone their separate ways and was holding it as a make-shift weapon. It would more likely cause a small distraction than do any real damage, but it made the both of them feel safer, if only by a little.

The Medbay was a bright room, the lighting reflecting off of the white walls and bed sheets that slowly came into view as they approached the doorway. Every door had been left open in the Station for a reason that Logan could not fathom. He had wondered previously why this might be but now he was simply grateful for the chance to see into the room before the doors opened.

As they had both expected there was no sign of the aliens; it was simply a well kept medical area with beds on either side of the room, scanners and a supply cupboard. Remus stepped in first, having to push Logan back though as the scientist still didn’t want Remus to be his guinea pig, willing or no.

“Doesn’t look so bad in here,” the moustached man said, crouching down to look under the beds before moving on towards the end. “Bit disappointing they don’t have a proper lab though. Would have been cool to have all the autopsy equipment available. Even some of the old stuff would have been good. Less refined but it gets the job done.”

“That was due to be added later,” Logan noted absentmindedly as he followed slowly behind, eyes darting over every surface. Where were they? What kind of space could they occupy? Were they like an octopus, able to fit through any hole with little limitation, or were they a larger mass? “When the rest of the crew arrives.”

“Weird scanner,” Remus said as he looked at the pad in the corner of the room. Logan had seen designs of it of course, and would probably have been more excited in a more ordinary situation, but as it was it had just become another new piece of information. “I wonder how they would scan people who can’t stand up. That’s ableist, that is.”

“They probably have a handheld one somewhere,” Logan said, eyes landing on the vent covering to his right. “Remus.”

“Hm?” Remus said, turning to him and letting his eyes fall to where he was pointing. “Yeah, I recon that would do it.”

“There’s a few of them around the Station,” Logan said, noting how large it was. While he personally wouldn’t be able to fit through it, and neither would any other human aboard the ship, the evidence he had of what these creatures could do implied at least some mutation ability. “I’ll have to look up the schematics to see where each of them lead and which ones connect.”

“Can you do that on your tablet?” Remus asked, pulling Logan away from the vent by the back of his suit.

“I expect so.” Logan allowed his partner to step in front of him and pulled the device out, knowing Remus would keep an eye on things.

He never looked away from the room for more than a few seconds, but he opened the files on his tablet, huffing in annoyance when he found that what he’d wanted wasn’t there. He was able to connect to the main systems of the Station wirelessly though, and he decided to download all the files that were available for public use. As soon as the schematics were downloaded he opened it, letting the other files download in the background as he looked at the designs.

“This vent is connected to Electronic and Security,” he said, following the lines that had been left. “There are also vents connecting the Upper Engine room and the Reactor, the Lower Engine room and the Reactor, Weapons and Navigation, Shields and Navigation, and the cafeteria, Admin and the hallway between Shields and Navigation.”

“Huh, it’s like this place has been infected with woodworm,” Remus noted. “Do you think if we leave it a bit longer there’ll be even more? Can you imagine that? THe Station falling to pieces because of an infestation of space-worms?”

Logan gave Remus and unimpressed look.

“What?”

He shook his head and looked back at the tablet when it beeped. The download had completed, and it seemed that everything had been… Wait. “Log Entry One?”

Remus glanced at him, curious. “Did the other guys leave a message?”

“No it…” He opened the file and could only stare at it. “I wrote this.”

“... Read it to me?”

“Um, alright,” Logan said and opened the file. “‘ I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing this, but I've had this strange feeling all day. I do not usually allow emotions to cloud my judgement in such a way, and I expect it is perhaps a result of my time in stasis, but everything feels, for the lack of a better word, rehearsed. I know that what I am feeling is simply the imbalance of chemicals in my brain, not in small part due to the dream I had, but I still can't seem to part with this feeling. I hope it will pass, but for now I will have to endure it.’” He blinked at the screen a few more times before putting it away. “The station saved it.”

“When did you write that?”

“The second time we arrived.”

“How the fuck does that even work?”

“I don’t know. How does the whole Time Loop work? It’s not something I’ve really looked into!” He’d been a little more focused on trying to keep everyone alive. The science behind this impossible situation came second to survival and getting back to normal in his opinion.

Remus snorted, looking back at the vent again. “At least now you know you can make notes or whatever so you don’t have to remember everything.”

“That would be useful,” Logan had to conceded, “but I can’t do that now. We have to be prepared.”

“Right,” Remus agreed. “Could be a long wait.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 9:47 AM

Logan had ended up writing up some notes on the last few days after all, unable to hold his concentration on waiting for an attack he didn’t know when to expect for a prolonged period of time. Remus had been handling it a little easier, but he his attention had started to wane after the first half an hour, and so they took turns on watch after that, Remus getting through the tasks that needed completing while it was his turn to rest.

They had fallen into a content silence after a while, only broken up by short bursts of conversation, but now it had been over two hours since they had first entered the room and both of them were getting antsy.

“You said the first one was around ten thirty,” Remus said as he kicked his legs over the side of the bed he was waiting on, the fuel container in his lap and his chin resting on his hand. He was still watching the vent, but the boredom was obvious.

“Approximately that time, yes,” Logan replied as he finished the last of his notes; there had been many observations he had to get down after all. “I can’t be certain though as I have not had the chance to record that time.”

“Well, it probably means that it’s going to turn up soon,” Remus said, pulling himself up to his feet. “Though it does depend how quick the process is. And if they’re even going to come for us.”

Logan paused in his typing. “What makes you say that?”

“We have been watching the vent almost constantly. That doesn’t give them much of a chance to strike, and I bet they’d want to surprise their victims. Though if there’s two of them and they’re pretty agile then they might just do it anyway. Or maybe they’ve been figuring out a way to trap us in here.”

As horrifying as that last statement was, it was possible. These creatures had to be intelligent otherwise they would not have been able to get away with some of the murders Logan had witnessed. He looked towards the door, trying not to make monsters out of shadows, but when he saw something move he jumped to his feet.

“Remus!” he started, but that was all he got out before the door slammed shut.

"Shit," Remus said, hopping from his seat as well and holding the container ready, but in the moment of distraction the vent had opened.

At first Logan thought it was grey in colour, very similar to the metal of the ground, but then it almost shimmered and he realised that it was more of a camouflage like that of a chameleon. It reminded him of an octopus, limbs like tentacles and they stretched out from the vent, only to congeal into a mass before growing all over again. It was more of a mass of something that shifted and changed as it wanted, but never into any true form.

And then it jumped.

Remus whacked it out of the air with the container, the hollow sound of the plastic echoing through the room as it hit the wall with a wet splat, but it wasn’t phased. If anything it seemed to get angry, if the way it formed sharp pincers seemed to indicate was correct. Remus braced himself again as it bunched up, ready to pounce, and swung once again. This time, however, it caught the container with those pincers, and reached for Remus’s hand.

He dropped it and kicked it away, backing up into Logan who was trying to get the doors open with little success.

“How soon can you get the door open?” he asked, voice barely hiding the panic as the creature started curling around the beds.

“I-I need thirty seconds,” Logan said, frantically typing at his pad.

“I don’t think we have thirty seconds,” Remus breathed, and Logan looked up to see the parasite prepare for its third attack. Logan could see what Remus was about to do, could picture it in his mind’s eye, and when his partner turned his head Logan could see the pain and regret in his gaze. “I love you.”

“Remus, Remus no !” Logan cry, but it was too late.

The creature made contact with Remus’s chest as he rushed forwards, taking it with him as he crashed into the far wall. Logan watched, clutching at his tablet as Remus gasped, his hand holding the spot the parasite had been, but in its place was a hole, torn through the thick fabric of the suit, red staining the edges of the tear.

Logan was frozen, the horror paralysing him as Remus wheezed and coughed, his eyes wide as he stared blankly at the ground. He doubled over with a garbled scream, falling to his knees a moment later as blood seeped into other spots of the suit, the green turning a dark brown. He fell forwards, the screen of his helmet hitting the floor and he rolled to his side, body twitching and tensing as though he were having an attack, the noises from his throat were strangled, choked.

And then he fell still.

Tears had fallen silently down Logan’s cheeks as he’d watched his partner’s, his love’s, his heart’s agony, and still more fell as he watched his stillness. He knew he should have been trying to open the door, knew that the man before him was no longer Remus, but he was stuck.

An agonising minute passed, but as it did threads of matter, dark and sharp, spun themselves around Remus’s body, not unlike that of a silk worm, creating a thin layer that corroded matter, the human shape sagging before filling out again. The blackness of the tread faded into the green of Remus’s suit, his figure clean and whole, as though the last five minutes hadn’t happened, and Logan heard it breathe.

A finger twitched, then a leg, and for a few moments the thing in Remus’s form stretched before pushing itself up onto his feet. It looked down at its stolen hands, curling them experimentally. Then it looked up.

Logan knew that it would look like him, but seeing Remus’s face staring blankly at him was enough to tear him from his stupor, and he tried frantically to turn back to the door.

“Lo-gan,” it said using Remus’s voice, the tone lilting and sing-song. “Oh love of my life. My sweet, bleeding heart.” Hands grasped at his wrists and squeezed, forcing him to release the tablet, which smashed against the ground. “What’s wrong?”

“You… you…” Logan tried, but found the words were almost stuck in his throat.

“Me what?” Not-Remus asked, giving him a sharp smile, mocking and threatening. “You can tell me. You can tell me anything, remember? You trust me.” It pouted. “Don’t you trust me anymore?”

“You’re not Remus.”

The creature stared blankly at him for a few moments before Logan felt something wrap around his arms, his legs, his middle, and he looked down to see that the creature that Remus had become was using its tentacles to hold him in place. He tried to struggle but it was no use.

It grinned.

“You know too much.” It leaned in closer, Logan gasping as his helmet was removed and Not-Remus’s melted away, his lips brushing against Logan’s ear. “You’ll be the perfect host.”

“No,” Logan said, tugging harder at the limbs, but still they wouldn’t budge. “No. No! Let me go !”

Not-Remus tilted his head to the side, giving Logan room to see the vent opening and a second parasite crawled out. Logan squirmed as it came closer, vanishing from his sight for several moments before it crawled into sight on Not-Remus’s shoulder. He tried to turn away, but the Thing used Remus’s hand to hold his jaw open, a tentacle wrapping around his head to hold it steady, and the parasite lunged.

It might have looked slimy, but there was nothing smooth about it as it entered; sharp claws ripped at his tongue, stretching and tearing down his esophagus, piercing every organ along the way. His breath gurgled in his lungs as they began to fill with his own blood, his heart stuttered as it was clawed at and torn, his kidneys were ruptured, he burned as his stomach was sliced open.

And all the while his lover’s face watched on with glee as the agony engulfed him completely.

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 10:03 AM

Logan exhaled, opening his eyes to find Remus stood before him, a smirk on his lips and his hands grasping Logans upper arms to keep him steady as he ensured that his body would function properly. Once he was sure he could hold his own weight he gave Remus a look and he was allowed to stand on his own.

“There are five others on this ship, and they do not belong,” he said, which only made Remus bounce excitedly on the spot.

“I know! We should pull their intestines out through their assholes. Oo! Or maybe we could pull them apart piece by piece! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Logan sighed. He should have expected as much from him. “As long as they end up dead I don’t care.”

Remus giggled and headed towards the vent. “I’ve got Orange!”

“Then I shall find Janus,” Logan said, picking up his tablet with a wrinkled nose. It was cracked beyond repair unfortunately, so he left it on the bed nearby and followed Remus to the vent; he wouldn’t be able to open the door without it after all.

Remus held the hatch open with a flourished bow, allowing Logan to detangle his human form and slip into the airway with ease, creeping through until he reached a new opening.

He stepped back into his human form in the Electrical room and moved past the various beeping and flashing lights on the walls, demanding that someone pay attention to them, heading out into the corridor. The walk to Communications didn’t take too long and Logan soon found himself stood behind Janus as he fiddled with something on the screens, his suit undoubtedly hooked up to the network so he could hear the radio.

The man in yellow only had a few moments to stiffen before Logan sharpened his right arm and shoved it through Janus’s back, pinning him to the desk as he sent furter tendrils out like a web through the rest of the body. He listened impassively to the choked noises of his death, waiting patiently for his heart to stop and his breathing to end before withdrawing his arm and returning his shape to its previous form with no evidence of blood.

Humans were so fragile, and could be so messy when they died. Janus was no different and his body was crumpled at his feet. With barely another glance he turned and left the room, going in search of his next victim.

Roman was in the room next to Communications, working on something under the main walkway. It would have been the perfect opportunity to attack, but he still needed time to recover from his exerting experience; creating a form like he'd just done to dispose of the yellow one was tiring and unusual, and this body wasn't used to it.

He waited, listening to the sounds of tools being used and dropped into tool boxes as his strength returned, pleased that this one knew how to clean up after itself. The sound of tunes from the cartoon show Steven Universe being hummed was less pleasing though, even if it did show that Roman was an adequate singer. It didn’t take too long before he felt he was ready to act though, and he knocked on the wall.

“Roman?”

There was the jangle of something being dropped and the man in red looked out from beneath the walkway.

“Microsoft Nerd!” Roman exclaimed in surprise as he pulled himself out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

"Yes, well, I have found that I am in need of your assistance," Logan replied, giving him a smile. "However, you seem to be busy. I can come back-"

"No! No, it's fine," Roman replied hastily, just as he knew he would, and he started to climb up onto the main path."It's mostly just me wanting to make sure everything's fit for a king." He puffed his chest out a little, probably in order to show pride, but Logan wasn't really paying attention.

"I'm sure it will be the best it can be under your care," he said with a nod. "Are you sure I can pull you away?"

"Positive," Roman said with a grin. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, to be perfectly blunt; it's you."

Roman blinked, his grin slipping. "... Excuse me?"

“Oh not you specifically,” Logan clarified with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “I mean you in general. Humans.”

“I… don’t understand,” Roman said, the corner of his mouth curling. “Is this some sort of a joke?”

Logan hummed, growing tired of the conversation, and struck. He unfurled again, tentacles stretching out and his body splitting into a gaping maw. Roman’s fight or flight reflexes were a little slow, but that only gave Logan more time to hold him. He’d bitten Roman’s head off just as he’d started to scream.

“Roman?”

Logan pulled back into his human form, looking towards where the voice had come from. It must have been Patton or Virgil, who must have been in Navigation together. It wasn’t too far from here, and the sound must have travelled. He should have been quicker.

Dropping Roman’s headless body Logan turned and ran, fleeing from the scene. A few moments later he heard the scream of horror he’d been expecting and the alarm for a meeting blared throughout the halls. It seemed his incompetence might actually help them after all.

Less than five minutes later and he was stood with Remus opposite Virgil and Patton, who were both looking around at the doors in fear.

“Wh-where are the others?” Virgil asked, cheeks gaunt and his body shaking in fear. “They should be here. Where are they?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Patton said, sniffing a little as he wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, only for the man in purple to pull away and hunch his shoulders as he curled his arms around himself. “Kiddo?”

“He… His head was…” Virgil gulped, his breathing becoming erratic as he looked between each of them. “It was one of you!”

“Virgil, please-”

“You killed him! You killed everyone !”

Remus chuckled as Virgil started to back away. “You were the one who set off the alarm,” he said, and his chuckles turned into giggles. “You set off the alarm to call everyone here, even though you thought one of us killed everyone?” He was all out laughing now, and even Logan had started looking at him with a frown. “How stupid can you get, Emo?”

“Remus!” Patton said, aghast and looking sickly. “How can you laugh in a situation like this? Your brother is dead!”

Remus continued to laugh to himself for a few moments before he dropped the facade entirely and grinned at them, his teeth sharp and gaze predatory. “Because you’ll be joining them!”

The two remaining humans did not get far before Remus caught them, and Logan helped him paint the walls red with their blood.

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:00 AM

The light of the cryodeck grew steadily brighter, and the hum of the ship was soothing, but Logan couldn’t see it through his tears, couldn’t hear it through his sobs and screams, and he tried desperately to rub the feeling of blood from his skin, scratching at his arms and cheek until something grabbed his wrists.

“Logan! Logan ! It’s okay! It was just a dream!”

Logan froze, choking on a sob as he looked up at Remus -- at his human, beautiful, loving partner with nothing but concern and love in his eyes -- and shot up into his arms.

“That’s it,” Remus soothed rubbing at his back and kissing his temple. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Logan could only cry into Remus’s shirt as the screams of his friends haunted his thoughts.

#fanfiction #sanders sides #among us #sanders side fic #sanders sides among us au #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #orange sanders #tw blood #tw gore #tw character death #time loop #writing

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allthislove · 3 years

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I wanna come back to the affirmative action thing, because I’ve been thinking about it for a while and the shit bothers me, okay?

Racial intelligence is a myth. Positive or negative, this is not a real thing. I’m going to talk about the Model Minority Myth and bit here, and also how Black people, especially Black Americans, are seen as inherently stupider than other people.

On one end of the spectrum, you have Asian people, who do well academically. People talk about them like they’re inherently better at school, or smarter than other people.

On the other end, you have Black people, who are thought of as bad students, stupid, incapable of succeeding in school without the assistance of affirmative action.

Neither point makes much sense, because they ask the person listening to imagine that neither Black nor Asian students have individuality. They can’t succeed or fail because of their own merits, but that their success or failure is because of some thing encoded into their DNA.

In reality, this is socialization. Before I get into this, I wanted to remind the world that Black women are the most educated demographic in America, today, and so what I’m about to talk about is (thankfully) changing, but let’s take a look at what factors help create both of these myths.

Asian families, especially immigrant families, tend to push education. It’s almost a virtue. Getting good grades became important for some Asian immigrants because they wanted their children to have their best chance. Immigration is hard. Many immigrants (not just Asian immigrants) come here and have to completely start over. Degrees they earned in their home countries sometimes become useless, here, especially if they’re not fluent in English. They often came to this country and had to initially work very menial, hard labor or dirty task jobs that Americans didn’t want. So, they pushed for their children to do well academically, so that they could become something better when they grew up.

So, right from the start, Asian parents are pushing for their kids to do extremely well in school.

What happened to Black kids, then? People never seem to tell the full story, here, but when I thought about it, it was obvious. I’m working on a play, right now, about Black people in the American South around the time of the first World War. The main character is a young Black woman who “finished” school at the 8th grade level because there wasn’t a school that taught Black people after that in her area. This wasn’t just some random thing I made up for my play. This is the situation that Black people lived in for a very long time, after Emancipation. While some HBCUs were being founded (thought many of them were initially just seminaries or agricultural schools) many parts of the country just didn’t have places where Black people could learn after a certain point. Couple that with a country that really doesn’t give a crap if Black people get good educations and education just never really became the most important thing, for us.

Black people valued a lot. We valued our stories. We valued our culture, which we built ourselves because most of our original cultures were stolen from us. We valued music. But, we never got a chance to be socialized to value education, because education was not available to us. And then when it was, it was often subpar.

So, right away, you have two completely different situations. One group, largely immigrants who have everything to lose and access to education; education being one of the main reasons to even come here. One group, brought here on slave ships, enslaved, freed, and then kept from good education for decades, if not an actual century.

The other factor in Asian academic excellence is that, especially at the college level, you have the top students coming to the US specifically to study at American universities. So, already, you’re skewing the numbers.

Anyway. So, Black people weren’t socialized to treat education with the reverence that many immigrant families do. So, once we started to get better access to education by the mid 1960s, most Black people just didn’t find it to be a virtuous thing to have good grades. Good or bad grades are just a thing. Don’t get me wrong. Black parents still get happy when their kids get an A, and upset when their kids get an F. But it was never treated as this all-encompassing thing. It just is what it is.

Couple that with, you know... a lot of socioeconomic factors that a lot of Black people still live in, and grades and scores just aren’t that important.

The thing is, that is shifting. A lot. Like, almost the sharpest course correction Black Americans could have. As I mentioned before, Black women are the most educated demographic in America, now. Why did this happen? I’m not exactly sure. A lot of people credit the emergence of images of Black success on TV in the 80s with shows like The Cosby Show and A Different World with sparking this shift. More Black kids saw that it was possible and therefore more Black kids went to college. The thing, though, is that that’s still mostly Millennials and Gen-Z. Meaning barely 1 generation of Black people have started to become more educated. Which also means, like... we haven’t had the time to see what the impact of this is going to be.

The Model Minority Myth for Asians is decades old. Black people even being able to go to PWIs is shorter than the Model Minority Myth.

I guess what I’m trying to say is... Black people aren’t more educated because education went easier on us than other people. We’re more educated because we’re capable, and we never were not capable.

Again, affirmative action makes sure you’re not overlooked because of your race. It doesn’t magically create a spot for you just because you’re Black, and especially not because you’re Black in spite of you being undeserving. And the other thing Affirmative Action doesn’t do is change your grades. If a Black student earned a 4.0, they earned the same 4.0 as and Asian student with a 4.0. Black students succeed or fail on their own merit, not because they’re Black.

And as for poverty... poverty is incredibly difficult to escape, no matter your race. I’m not the best person to speak on Black poverty, because I’m not poor and I grew up comfortably middle class with two college educated and professional parents, so yeah, but I can say that because I grew up like that, it was far easier for me to go to any 4 year college and earn any degree I wanted than it will be for some poor kid living in the projects with a single parent with a GED. I’m not sure why people act like Black poor people are an example of why Black people are inherently bad or stupid. First of all, you can be incredibly good and incredibly smart and still live in the projects and be poor. Second of all, the existence of bad people in the Black race doesn’t mean that all or even most Black people are bad. Third of all, nobody is stupid, and if they seem “stupid” to you, something else is going on. A lack of education. A cognitive disability. Something. “Stupid”, like “crazy”, is a dismissive, and often ableist, word, and basically means nothing.

And since I brought up the Model Minority Myth, I think I should mention that it’s also very harmful to Asian people, especially students. One, it’s dehumanizing, and makes people hold Asian people to impossible standards that obviously every Asian person can’t meet. And two, it misses the experiences of Asian people who didn’t come here for academic reasons, many of whom don’t have the same “education as a virtue” thing that many specifically East Asian or Indian immigrants have. Like, people who came here as refugees instead of exchange students. Many of those people find that they get left behind by the myth, teachers offer them less help because they’re Asian and are supposed to be “smarter than everyone else”, and they end up falling into a sort of gap. Many of them drop out, and the cycle of poverty continues. And I guess a third, big problem is that it makes colleges and universities judge Asian applicants more harshly and hold them to a higher standard than everyone else, which means that unless you’re a high flying Asian overachiever, you might have a harder time getting into college than your white or Black friends.

So, anyway, what I’m saying is that assigning a certain intelligence level to someone based on their race is bad and like... America really has a big problem with race and we need to fix it.

Also, we need to do better, as a whole, about understanding why we have the misconceptions that we have. It’s really frustrating, for me, to constantly feel like I have to prove I’m not stupid to strangers because they all assume I am because I’m Black. Or at least less intelligent than they are. And to have to defend my two degrees constantly because old Duck Dynasty looking white guys think I didn’t earn them because of affirmative action. To have to constantly explain that a Black person’s A is the same A as anyone else in the class, because, while teachers do sometimes grade on a curve, it’s not given racially. And that if you answer a question correctly, it’s correct. And if you solve an equation correctly, you solved it correctly. And that the answer doesn’t change for Black people, and that the work isn’t easier.

And I think people know that it doesn’t make sense, because when you think about it logically, it doesn’t make sense that one group of people is inherently stupid or that another is inherently smart. We understand individuals. We know lots of people, each of us. We know someone who isn’t bright at all, we know someone who is incredibly smart, we know some people like this who are the same race as each other, and even the same race as us. We know they’re different because they’re individual people, and that they don’t represent our entire race. So, why, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, can we not... as a society... yet understand that race effects our conditions, but does not dictate the type of person we are in the slightest?? Good, bad, smart, pretty, not smart, ugly, short, tall, funny, boring, brave, scared, energetic, whatever the hell... THESE ARE TRAITS THAT MAKE UP INDIVIDUALS, NOT RACES. Race is a lie we tell ourselves to explain why certain people share certain physically features and/or geography. Nothing more. We have built entire societies around this lie, and like... I’m not naive enough to think that race will no longer be a factor any time soon. Some people are far too hung up on their racism for us to truly move on as a society. But I also know that, for us to begin the process of moving on from it, we have to be honest about how it has shaped our society and stop this thing of blaming people for the conditions the society forced on them and how it affected them through the generations.

This was a lot, and I’m not sure if it’s clear, but yeah. All of this shit is more complicated than you want it to be, and people don’t fit neatly into little stereotype boxes. You have to get that shit out of your head and learn to both see individuals AND understand how history shapes our present reality.

#racism #the dreaded affirmative action conversation #the model minority myth #BLM #BIPOC #BIPOC thoughts

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Darkstars #2

Darkstars had adult coloring book covers before it was cool to be an adult who colors.

Funny how we're lots of years of continuity into the DC Universe by 1992 and nobody ever mentioned the Darkstars before now. You'd think Hal Jordan would have, at least once, mumbled, "Fucking Darkstar sons of bitches." But no! Never! At least as far as I know. Maybe Hal talked about the Darkstars all the time! It's not like I ever read more than a few dozen Green Lantern comic books prior to 1992! One of them was the one where Guy Gardner gets fucked up by using Hal's lantern, sent to the Phantom Zone, and later winds up with brain damage. Speaking of Guy's brain damage, every fucking character in the DC Universe who ever called Guy an arrogant prick was an ableist asshole. The guy was dealing with a traumatic brain injury! And eventually Batman punches him directly in the brain injury causing him to develop a completely different personality and everybody is all, "This is okay because Guy is nice now." What a bunch of fucking assholes! At the end of the last issue, Detective Chicago-head was thrown out of a window by a huge alien. This issue begins exactly where that one left off which might be surprising to people used to reading comic books by Scott Lobdell. They're probably thinking, "What is linearity?! How do time go?! Is Superboy really a living weapon developed by N.O.W.H.E.R.E? I've only been told that 27 times so who can know for sure?"

I guess in Colos's language, "Whoooa!" means "You catch meaty men like a drunk St. Bernard!"

Detective Ketchup-on-a-hot-dog-is-a-crime-head tells the Darkstar that there's an alien distributing drugs in the warehouse. That leads to another scene with somebody going through a window and Colos mistranslating another exclamation.

The Schoolhouse Rock song, "Interjections," must be like an ancient Middle-English epic to this guy.

Colos sees the Chicago-headed cop begin beating the shit out of one of the warehouse workers and just stares at him. At first I thought, "Oh, Colos is pretty brutal but he's incandescent with rage at the brutality of this cop!" And then the logic gears in my brain suddenly caught some traction and stopped spinning uselessly (they've become stripped from years of trying to rationalize the thoughts of Ayn Rand and C.S. Lewis lovers) which caused me to blink and gasp out loud, "Oh no! He's admiring the brutality!" After that, I was so incensed by the idea that people are still supporting cops after all the brutalities they've committed against protesters protesting police brutality that I went on Facebook and defriended four friends who just seemed like the types of asshole that would find any excuse to defend a cop for murdering a suspect during an arrest. You gotta just despise these jack-offs who demand we wait for all the evidence and maybe a trial before judging the cops because everybody is innocent until proven guilty but they don't fucking give a damn that the cops just killed a person who was innocent until proven guilty and never got a trial. Now I'm super mad at this comic book! I think all shows about cops should have to draw a new genre out of a hat for their next season. Keep all the same character but now instead of Brooklyn 99 taking place in a police station, have it take place in a library. Or now every NCIS takes place at the mall at a Hot Dog On A Stick. Fuck all cop shows forever.

The number one thought of every cop: "Just let me get my hands on this gun!" Also notice they're friends now that Colos saw how well he brutalizes perps? And also, they're "palm-masers." Whew. That's a lot to take in over just a few panels! Especially the "palm-masers."

That fat guy from the cover of Issue #1? I don't think I really talked about him in the last review. He's a big gangster who was cleared of all charges of gangstering by a hot shot lawyer named White. She's one of those ruthless lawyers who gets the job done no matter how unethical the job is because she's awesome. I mean, that's what people who think they're good at arguing think of themselves. They're awesome! But really they're just selfish assholes that don't care what burns as long as they get big bucks and a ton of prestige. Here's a simple way to know if you're one of these asshole types: if you've ever said, "It's not personal; it's just business." Boom. Asshole.

So far Paul is my favorite character in this comic. If you don't speak up and tell your asshole friends that they're being an asshole, you are also an asshole.

Although some of us aren't great at confrontation so to keep from being an asshole yourself, I'll also accept simply ghosting your asshole friend and passively aggressively shining them off whenever they want to get together. That's what I've been doing with my dad because I don't have the emotional wherewithal to confront him about his terrible politics and shitty jokes without also coming completely unhinged about his near total absence throughout my youth and the problems that caused in mine and my sister's relationship with our mother. Fuck that coward. Even as an adult when he thought he could be friends, he proved to be deficient in his ethics and his compassion. White pulls all the "Everybody needs a defender!" crap that might be true but she still knows what she's doing is making the world a worse place. And if she doesn't do it, somebody else will, so why shouldn't she get her piece of that pie? Besides, maybe a different defense attorney would be even more evil than she is! They might not do any good at all! Paul winds up apologizing to her because he's not as awesome as I thought he was. But he's still better than everybody else so far, aside from Mo. Mo might be all right. It's too early to tell. You might be thinking, "If it's too early to tell if you like Mo, how can you hate all of those other characters?" Easy! I start off every comic book hating every fucking character. You can't properly review a comic book if you give every aspect of it the benefit of the doubt like those terrible reviewers at the Weird Science blog! I hesitate to even call them reviewers! They're more like synopsisers who don't understand punctuation. Meanwhile in space, some guy in a ship is being chased by some other mysterious guys and he's having a full blown paranoia attack. I think he's probably Evil Star. Back on Earth, Darkstar Colos and his new friends stop the Loco drug ring and save the day. Being a comic book, that one sentence lasts for about ten pages of lasers and stupid one-liners. After the battle, Colos takes his buddies to his ship so they can be there when he tells his boss that he solved the case with their help. The boss is all, "Welp, I guess you're Earth's Darkstar then!" And Colos slaps his hand to his face and everybody laughs as the credits roll. Darkstars #2 Rating: B. The best thing I can say about this comic book so far is that the protagonists actually stop some crime. That's actually high praise from me because too many superhero comic books simply have the hero defending themselves from bad guys set on hurting the hero. You'd think it wouldn't be that hard to write stories about heroes actually doing good and making the world a better place but I've got over one hundred issues of The New Titans that prove it's actually really difficult!

#Darkstars #DC Comics #DC #Michael Jan Friedman #Scott Hanna #Larry Stroman

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elizabethleslie7654 · 6 years

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The Anti-White, Post-Christian Church

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by Gaius Marcius

John Piper is the preeminent evangelical proponent of White guilt. To overcome his own guilt about growing up as a privileged White in the segregated South, Piper inculcates self-loathing in White Christians who may not know how much they have to be sorry for. To atone for the sin of being White in America, Piper has, among other things, adopted a Black child of his very own, organized his Bethlehem Church to actively promote non-Whites into leadership positions, and praised the so-called music of Christian rapper Lecrae. Piper also regularly condemns Donald Trump and White identity politics while making excuses for Black identity politics, even after his favorite non-Whites abandon him for explicitly racial reasons.

Unlike many anti-White activists who are liberal or secular, and therefore immediately suspect within the evangelical community, Piper is relatively conservative on many social issues, and he preaches an anti-racist Christianity that makes religious conservatives reluctant to defend their own culture and race, even though many evangelicals share with the Alt Right an emphasis on tradition, personal virtue, community, and spiritual, as opposed to materialistic, values that should make the two groups natural allies.

Piper structures his articles around some basic anti-racist talking points, generally ones that could be refuted even by a novice race realist, and then squeezes in some non sequiturs and a few cherry picked Bible passages. Piper’s articles conform to the inoffensive, socially acceptable opinions most Christians have been taught since childhood; they are plausibly religious without being intolerant. Unfortunately, Piper’s method is entirely lacking intellectual content and so can be used to make a Christian virtue out of literally any ridiculous, self-destructive behavior. In the following essay I will use Piper’s logic to show that chopping off your hands and feet is a Christian virtue. This essay was inspired by a piece that Piper wrote to commemorate the Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court case, and will be more interesting after you slog through Piper’s tendentious article. There really is no substitute for experiencing the original.

Celebrating the Beauty of Weakness

Forty years ago, on June 12, 2020, the United States Suprema Corte de Justicia de la Nacion declared unconstitutional all state laws that prohibited Voluntary Amputation (VA). The case was called Smythe v. Iowa. Mark and Katherine Smythe were determined to have their hands and feet surgically removed, but every doctor in their home state of Iowa refused to perform the procedure, citing Muslim religious objections to “self-maiming” other than female genital mutilation.

After losing an initial lawsuit against the AIMA (American Islamic Medical Association), the Smythes wrote to Attorney General Latifa Washington to start a legal action for violation of their religious liberty. Latifa referred the case to the American Civil Liberties Union. The original judge, Athanasius Martel, who had handed down the verdict, refused to reconsider his earlier decision. He argued,

Almighty God created the humanity with a body with discrete parts and powers and placed them in a natural world suited to their bodily condition. But for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such amputations. The fact that he joined the body together by nature in the mother’s womb and by providence in his divine plan shows that he did not intend the body to be unnaturally divided.

The Suprema Corte was unanimous in favor of the Smythe family, observing that laws against Voluntary Amputation were “designed to maintain ableist supremacy”.

At the time of the Suprema Corte decision, sixteen states of primarily European demography still enforced laws prohibiting VA. New Hampshire did not amend its state constitution on the issue for thirty years (2050), and Idaho took until 2052.

Important as Ever

This is a court decision worth celebrating. But far more important than the legalization of Voluntary Amputation in one nation is the fact that God’s revealed will for the world is not undermined but advanced when men and women of different abilities choose to become weak for Christ. That is a startling and controversial claim in the face of diverse opposition to Voluntary Amputation in our own day.

From the White community, a spokesman says, “How can a White man fulfill his obligation to provide for his family when he has intentionally handicapped himself? Call it what it is: Selfish, self-imposed genocide and extinction of the White work ethic.”

From the White evangelical community, another says, “I would never Voluntarily Amputate. Why? Because I believe God made each person fearfully and wonderfully, knitting them together in their mother’s womb. (Psalm 139). He made them uniquely different and intended that these distinctions remain.”

From the Black community, one spokesman says, “Voluntary Amputation undermines [African-Americans’] ability to win athletic scholarships and introduce our children to Black role models who accept their physical identity with pride.”

Against all of these objections, I believe it is as important as it ever has been that Christians settle it in their minds that Voluntary Amputation in Christ is not only a beautiful picture of Christ’s sacrifice for His Church, but also a flesh-and-blood imitation of the strength in weakness Christ exhibited by submitting to Incarnation (Philippians 2:7-8).

Moreover, the common cultural ban on Voluntary Amputation lies at the heart of the physical division in the church. I would go further and say that opposition to Voluntary Amputation is one of the deepest roots of distance, disrespect, and hostility in the world. Show me one place in the world where Voluntary Amputation is frowned upon, and yet the able and disabled groups still have equal respect and honor and opportunity. I don’t think it exists.

Add to this that, since the recent presidential election, the ugly forces of hateful and angry ableist supremacy have felt empowered to show their colors in America more openly than for the last forty years. Just two weeks ago, I spoke with a friend whose double amputee (by choice) parents have lived as American citizens in the same neighborhood in California for decades, only to find their house, soon after the election, for the first time ever, spray-painted with slurs telling them to “give themselves a hand.”

Search Your Heart

I remember from the time I was a teenager growing up in South Carolina how the arguments from “nature” were used, and carried the day for most of us in our blindness to the fullness of biblical truth. “Birds have wings, cats have tails, and humans have hands and feet. This is the way God meant it to be. So, it’s against nature for people to cut off their own healthy limbs.”

Flowing from all these arguments against Voluntary Amputation is an inevitable pressure on all social structures to institutionalize ableist supremacy, especially among young people who might choose the noble path of VA if they hang out with the disabled. So, that includes neighborhoods and schools especially. No matter how much love or goodwill you may have, if my son or daughter with a self-imposed “handicap” is unacceptable as a spouse for your son or daughter, then you will keep your family at a distance from mine. And the social order will reflect that distance. And the desire for that distance will inevitably breed disrespect, suspicion, and antagonism. For all these reasons, Christians of every physical ability should search their hearts and search the Scriptures, and bring their hearts, by the power of God’s Spirit into line with God’s word.

Biblical Beauty of Voluntary Amputation

Let me simply give five summary pointers to the kind of arguments that show the biblical beauty of VA in Christ.

1. The biblical description of how so-called physical differences emerged from one pair of human beings, Adam and Eve, shows that VA does not contradict God’s purpose for diversity in this world and the next.

I agree that physical diversity is God’s good plan for humanity, and that it serves to glorify God more than sameness would have. This physical diversity will mark the people of God in the age to come. Our salvation in Christ does not obliterate all differences. He redeems, refines, and enriches them in the togetherness of his kingdom. The final image of heaven is “every tribe and language and people and nation” (Revelation 5:9; 7:9).

Some have argued that God’s will for diversity, therefore, rules out Voluntary Amputation, which “rebels” against the differences. They speak of the disabled as “deficient” and lacking the “benefits” of intact bodies. They speak of the “dissection room” where all God’s intentions for physical differences are destroyed.

The first thing to say in response to this view is that we must not overlook the fact that all ability levels and disabilities came from one human pair. God “made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth” (Acts 17:26). This is important because in the sad history of ableist “science,” which justified prejudice on the basis of VA’s having a different ability than non-amputees, the message of the Christian Scriptures constrained the development of merit based ideals of human achievement. For all the misuses of the Bible to justify normative physicality and subjugation, the teaching of a single common ancestor for all humans has been a massive deterrent to such abuses. In other words, “ability” is a fluid concept with no clear boundaries.

God seems to delight not just in three or five, but in thousands of variations of human beings. In fact, many today would argue that the concept of ability is unhelpful altogether because there are no clear lines that can be drawn, and the ones that are drawn are not genetically or morally significant. It is significant that when God foresees the physical diversity of the coming kingdom in Luke 5:31 and Matthew 11:28, he speaks not of the strong and powerful, but of “the sick,” and “the weary” and those “bearing heavy burdens.”

After the flood, God set in motion a process of increasing diversification of humanity. “From these the coastland peoples spread in their lands, each with his own language, by their clans, in their nations” (Genesis 10:5). He is not concerned with limiting diversity to a few groups. According to the text, he planned the multiplication of increasing numbers of peoples.

This leads me to conclude that the Voluntary Amputees add to the diversity of the human race, rather than diluting it. The scope of the world’s peoples is so huge that there is no serious possibility that VA will reduce the diversity of peoples. There is no melting pot. There is only a stew pot. And there always will be.

2. The Bible forbids the independent pride in one’s own abilities that is increased by physical prowess.

The instinctive, “natural” concern for our own physical well-being is part of the sin nature Christians are commanded to strive against. The goal is not to maximize ability or perfect physical appearance. The issue is this: Will there be one common allegiance to the true God in this life, or will there be divided affections? The prohibition in God’s word is not against VA, but against selfishly viewing your body as your own possession to do with what you will.

We see this most clearly in Christ’s teaching in Matthew 5:29-30, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.” This is the New Testament application of the Old Testament ritual of circumcision practiced by Israel as a sign of the self-denial that God requires.

3. In Christ, our oneness is profound and transforms ability and “disability” from barriers to blessings.

In Christ, physical differences cease to be obstacles to deep, personal, intimate fellowship, including marriage.

You have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. (Colossians 3:9–11)

When Christ is our all, and when Christ is in all, differences of ability change from being barriers to become blessings. Even “handicaps” — and the most severe of them — are present in the new “race,” the church. The head of this race is no longer Adam, but “the last Adam,” Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:45). God aims that in this new “race” of humans, all types in the world will be included: “Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.”(Luke 14:21). Voluntary Amputation in this new humanity is one manifestation, and one means, of Christ being all in all.

4. God severely disciplined the able and blessed the “disabled” in Scripture.

God’s servant Elisha possessed a trait that would mark him as “deficient” in his day.

“Then he went up from there to Bethel; and as he was going up by the way, young lads came out from the city and mocked him and said to him, “Go up, you baldhead; go up, you baldhead!” When he looked behind him and saw them, he cursed them in the name of the LORD. Then two female bears came out of the woods and tore up forty-two lads of their number.” (2 Kings 2:23-24)

What is most significant about this context is that God does not get angry at Elisha; he gets angry at the boys for criticizing Elisha for his perceived “weakness”. God was not pleased with this criticism, and his punishment was swift and startling.

Likewise, the blessings of God come to those who are “disabled” like the blind man healed by Jesus.

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. (John 9:1-3)

Arrogant use of modern medicine has deprived Jesus of opportunities to display God’s glory. We should change our perspective; so-called disabilities are not problems to be solved but chances to share in God’s work.

5. In Christ, the good effects of Voluntary Amputation are worth the challenges it can bring.

Will it be harder live a comfortable daily life as an amputee? Will it be harder for the children? Maybe. Maybe not. But since when is that the way a Christian thinks? Life is hard. And the more you love, the more painful it gets.

The risks are huge. It’s hard to take a child and move into a diverse neighborhood where he may be teased or ridiculed. It’s hard to help a child be a Christian in a secular world where his beliefs are mocked. Whoever said that living with no feet and no hands was supposed to be trouble free? It’s one of the hardest things in the world. It just happens to be right and rewarding.

Here is where Christ makes the difference. Christ does not call us to a prudent life, but to a God-centered, Christ-exalting, justice-advancing, countercultural, risk-taking life of love and courage. Christians are people who move toward need and truth and justice, not toward comfort and security. Life is hard. But God is good. And Christ is strong to help.

Who knows what blessings through pain God may have in store? Voluntary Amputation has an amazing potential for great joy and peace. Yes, there are exceptions: a self-reliant father may never speak to his bedridden son-in-law. But another wonderful possibility exists. Indeed, it comes to pass over and over through VA.

A once-bigoted group of relatives is forced to see as a person the “burden” who just joined their family. The newcomer into the family is not just a burden any more. Over time the suspicions and prejudices and hostilities die away, and something beautiful is born: reconciliation and respect and harmony, spreading out in ways no one thought possible. The once-angry father now views all his disabled colleagues at work differently.

Shine with the Glory of Christ

It is good that laws against Voluntary Amputation have disappeared in America. But civil laws are not the main concern of the church of Jesus Christ. Our primary citizenship is in heaven, not America (Philippians 3:20). Our main aim is not to constrain the behavior of unbelievers by laws. Our aim is to bring the new, redeemed humanity — the church of Christ — into conformity with his will.

Our aim is to magnify Christ in this world. The freedom and the beauty and peace of Voluntary Amputation is one ray of the glory of Christ that should be shining from this new humanity — this “chosen race” (1 Peter 2:9) — which Jesus Christ died and rose again to create.

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