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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Polyphonic

Chapter 3 ao3 (alt: tumblr pt 1, pt 2)

Lan Qiren wanted to speak to Wei Wuxian about everything they needed to do, but it would have to wait: the moment they arrived, they were immediately swept up into the political mess that Jin Zixun’s ill-fated ambush had caused.

Jin Guangshan was there in the blink of an eye, despite normally taking his time in seeing anyone, and Lan Qiren didn’t like the way he started making excuses for his nephew’s behavior from the very start. It was to a certain degree understandable, as everyone would first incline towards defending their family, but the haste with which Jin Guangshan sought to sweep it all under the rug was disconcerting, and Lan Qiren thought it was almost suggestive of some level of premeditation. Even more distasteful, however, was how he sought to twist the entire event into being yet another reason Wei Wuxian ought to surrender the Stygian Tiger Seal to the Jin sect: for his own good, of course, in order to avoid being made into a target on account of the disdain of the cultivation world –

“Sect Leader Jin, your words are in poor taste,” Lan Qiren said sharply.

He could hear Jiang Cheng, who ought to be defending Wei Wuxian and was trying his stuttering best to do so, starting to waver; the boy had a pleasant rippling melody by nature, forced into a fierce allegro by his parents’ endless disputes and his later tragedies, and the weak foundation meant that he was too easily buffeted by uncertainty and doubt, as Jin Guangshan undoubtedly knew.

“Let us not speak in abstraction,” he continued. “It was your sect, your nephew, who launched this particular ambush. You ought to be making a formal apology to Wei Wuxian and thinking of reparations to repair the injury to your sect’s reputation, not acting like a thief complaining to the magistrate that his victim failed to hand over his property quickly enough to prevent violence!”

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrowed in irritation, though he fought to keep the expression off his face as if it could disguise the swell of bitter rotten music that accompanied him wherever he went. “Teacher Lan,” he said, striving for composed and charming but mostly coming off as stiff and wooden. “Come now, I must be misunderstanding you. Surely you are not accusing me of being a thief.”

Historically, as Jin Guangshan well knew, this was when Lan Qiren backed down, mindful of his position as interim sect leader – his sect granted him much of the responsibility but not the full measure of power that typically accorded with the title, and he was conscious, always, that his role was to ensure there was something preserved for his nephews to inherit.

Perhaps Jin Guangshan had forgotten that Lan Qiren was no longer interim sect leader.

“I am describing the facts as I see them,” he said icily, straightening his back and levelling his best teacher’s glare, refined by years of troublesome students. “And they are this: by the agreement of the cultivation world and through his own powers, Wei Wuxian was inviolate and unbothered as long as he remained in the Burial Mounds. Despite this, he willingly chose to emerge in response to an invitation issued by your sect, only to be attacked by your sect – and when he comes to you for justice, rather than grant it to him, you suggest that he hand over his most prized possession to prevent any similar attacks in the future. Unfamiliarity may require me to consult my sect’s texts to be sure, Sect Leader Jin, but only to determine if I should be calling it extortion, blackmail, or outright thievery!”

“Teacher Lan!” one of the smaller sect leaders gasped, even as Jin Guangshan went utterly florid with rage. “You’re not suggesting that Jin-gongzi was involved in the ambush!”

Lan Qiren had been Jin Zixuan’s teacher and knew him well – he had been a shy, introverted boy whose awkwardness came off as aloofness, and would never have done anything like this. Even less so would Lan Qiren suspect such a thing of the man who had been steadied by war and responsibility into an adult with a firm moral foundation.

“No,” he said, and met Jin Guangshan’s eyes directly. “I believe Jin-gongzi’s invitation to have been wholly sincere.”

For a moment, Lan Qiren thought Jin Guangshan was actually going to strike him, his aura lashing out violently like a clash of cymbals, discordant and biting, and he braced himself, but in the last moment etiquette prevailed and Jin Guangshan refrained, although his fists were clenched so tightly that his veins stood out from the backs of his hands.

That was when Wei Wuxian opened his mouth.

Lan Qiren silenced him with the muting spell before he could get out a single syllable.

Jiang Cheng sent him a thankful glance and cleared his throat. “This is a serious matter,” he said. “It requires a full investigation; we won’t be able to solve it all talking now. Both Wei Wuxian and Teacher Lan have traveled a long way – I have no doubt that they need some time to rest and refresh themselves.”

A convenient way to stop anyone from starting a fight, and implicitly excusing Lan Qiren’s rudeness as a mere symptom of exhaustion, resolving the whole thing without losing any more face for anyone. The Jiang sect’s boy was picking up this whole politics business quite well, the poor child.

“I concur,” Jin Guangshan said, recovering a little of his poise. “There are rooms ready for you both.”

Lan Qiren inclined his head as well. “An excellent idea,” he said, and then, because he could now, added, “We can discuss reparations for the ambush later.”

“And what about the curse?” Jin Zixun hissed, clearly done with holding his tongue the way everyone had been so obviously instructing him with their eyes. “Am I to simply suffer while that criminal walks free and unharmed?”

“When I said there would be an investigation, I meant it!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “I doubt your curse is so advanced that it can’t wait another day, and if it is, then you should have brought it up earlier!”

“Why you –“

“Sect Leader Jiang has spoken,” Jin Zixuan interrupted, his voice hard. “Zixun, don’t forget that you must also answer to me as to what you did to my guest in my name without my permission. I think it might benefit you to ‘rest and refresh’ as well. One of the servants can take you to see a doctor.”

Jin Guangshan seemed on the verge of objecting, but Jin Zixuan seemed not to get the hint, already turning his face away.

“In the meantime,” he said, saluting politely, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei-gongzi, would you come with me? A-Li is waiting to see you both.”

Lan Qiren allowed himself to be whisked off in a different direction to settle down, which in all honesty he did need to do. He hadn’t flown such a distance in years, had been in better health when he’d done so, and he had been tired even before all this excitement; some rest would do wonders for him, even if it did make him feel a bit like he’d become a doddering old man or an invalid. Before he could settle down, though, he heard a sound approaching – a little uneven, sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow – and despite the fact that Jin Guangyao had never been anything but polite to him, he felt his back tense up at the reminder of why he was here in the first place.

“Honored teacher,” Jin Guangyao said, smiling and saluting deeply – more than he should, really, given that Lan Qiren was neither a sect leader nor had ever been his teacher. “Welcome to Jinlin Tower. I regret that your arrival was marred by such unpleasantness, and hope that the remainder of your visit is calmer.”

It’s not Jin Guangyao’s fault that Lan Xichen likes him, Lan Qiren reminded himself. Your suspicions, and your family’s terrible luck at love, are your own burdens to bear. They should not be put onto others.

He nodded to Jin Guangyao.

“It would be good to see a peaceable resolution to today’s events,” he said neutrally. “I appreciate that you have come to check on me personally. It is truly going above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Your nephew is my sworn brother, Teacher Lan. How could I fail to honor you as my elder?” Jin Guangyao said smoothly. “Let me know if there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable.”

“A bath before dinner would be nice. Has my nephew arrived yet?” Lan Qiren privately hoped that he hadn’t, and was relieved when Jin Guangyao shook his head, confirming it. “Let me know when he does.”

“Of course,” Jin Guangyao said, and saluted again. “I’ll inform the servants; a bath will be made ready for you by afternoon.”

The moment Jin Guangyao left the room, Lan Qiren traced the pattern along the hem of his robes that shook off the dust of the road, returning them to being as clean and pristine as always – not a long-term solution to laundry, but very effective in the short-run, and one that he’d only refrained from doing earlier in order to drive home the point regarding how he had also been victimized by Jin Zixun’s ambush.

It was a profound relief to be clean again.

Once he could no longer hear Jin Guangyao’s familiar chords, he relaxed, which unfortunately these days meant coughing. He rubbed his chest when he was done, sighing, and settled down with his guqin to start playing a little, hoping to ease his nerves. Lan Xichen would be on his way already, he knew, and would probably move even faster once he got word regarding Lan Qiren’s presence. He’d made rather a lot of trouble for his nephew…

The door slammed open, and only years of experience with troublesome children, along with the warning echo of a song free and clear, full of shining righteousness, allowed Lan Qiren to remain unmoved by the cacophonous crash.

“So I have questions,” Wei Wuxian said. “Many, many questions, and I’m going to want answers to…uh, are you all right?”

Lan Qiren ignored Wei Wuxian’s rush, finishing the stanza he was playing and letting his hands still over the guqin. “Sit, and I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

Wei Wuxian closed the door behind him and put up a talisman for privacy, like the ones they used to use during the war, before coming to sit across the table from Lan Qiren. He was frowning. “Honored Teacher Lan, your lips are red,” he said cautiously. “Were you coughing up blood just now?”

“An old injury from the war,” Lan Qiren said, unable to resist recalling the memory of Wen Xu’s wild smirk as he’d deliberately smashed his ribs into pieces, grinding his palm against Lan Qiren’s chest to force the broken pieces to pierce his lungs. Nie Mingjue had executed Wen Xu only a few months later, a matter that had greatly eased his nightmares…truly Lan Qiren had to get to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible; once Lan Xichen’s name was cleared, he could focus on trying to devise a solution to cleanse Nie Mingjue of the spiritual poison. “It can be aggravated by excess choler. Do not concern yourself about it.”

Wei Wuxian looked like he was concerning himself about it. “But you nearly –” Lan Qiren glared until he dropped the volume of his voice significantly. “You nearly got into a fight with dozens of cultivators back at the Qiongqi Path on my behalf! Wouldn’t that have aggravated it even worse than just getting angry?”

“Much worse,” Lan Qiren agreed peaceably. “My talents in battle are not especially notable, although better with the guqin than the sword. Regardless, the effort expended would almost certainly result in a severe backlash later.”

Wei Wuxian gaped at him. “Then why did you do it?”

“Was there an alternative?”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth opened and closed a few more times.

“How are your shijie and shizi?” Lan Qiren asked when it appeared that Wei Wuxian was not going to force any words out of his mouth any time soon. He folded his hands together in an appropriate manner – he, at least, knew his etiquette, and would continue to model it in the hope that Wei Wuxian might one day catch a hint. “Well, I trust?”

“Uh, yeah, they’re great. Jin Ling is perfect, shijie is wonderful, the peacock doesn’t deserve either of them, though he’s gotten better, I guess,” Wei Wuxian said, then shook his head as if to clear it. “And I wouldn’t have been able to see either of them if not for you.”

Personally, Lan Qiren didn’t think one Jin Zixun and any number of his friends would actually be able to stop Wei Wuxian, preplanned ambush or no, so he just hummed noncommittally. “You said you had questions?”

“Yeah, and now I have even more,” Wei Wuxian grumbled, but he seemed to settle down a little. “Let’s start with the fact that you said you needed help on a musical issue, but that it is also somehow an attempted murder. What’s that about?”

Lan Qiren grimaced. “Serve tea,” he instructed Wei Wuxian, and waited until he was midway through the process – and thus not staring straight at Lan Qiren – to start talking. “I have reason to believe that Nie Mingjue has been poisoned with spiritual poison.”

Wei Wuxian nearly spilled the tea, but managed to stop himself in time. “Chifeng-zun? Impossible!” Then he frowned. “I’d heard his temper was getting far worse, of late. Just mentions of it in passing…you think it’s because of that?”

“It may be. The Nie sect is prone to encountering qi deviations; a spiritual poison, especially one that specifically targets choleric feelings such as irritation and rage, would be particularly insidious when aimed against them. Should he die, everyone might be inclined to assume that the cause was hereditary rather than external.”

“A perfect murder. What type of poison?” Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows went up. “Wait – you think – musical poison?”

“My sect is renowned for using musical cultivation as healing techniques,” Lan Qiren pointed out, not sure why it seemed to come as such a shock to Wei Wuxian. “Antidotes grow alongside poisons, and all that can heal can also hurt – anyway, isn’t what you do a type of musical cultivation as well?”

“Good point,” Wei Wuxian said ruefully. “All right, that makes sense. That definitely seems like a real problem…but why do you need my help?”

“My health is poor, and I do not know what such an investigation will require,” Lan Qiren said. “And I cannot ask anyone in my sect to assist me.”

“Why not?”

“Because the primary suspect,” Lan Qiren said heavily, “is Xichen.”

Wei Wuxian stared.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a few long moments of blank gawping. “Please forgive me, honored teacher, but I think I misheard you. Are you saying that you think Zewu-jun is poisoning Chifeng-zun?”

“I hope dearly that he is not, of course,” Lan Qiren said. “In fact, part of the reason for my desire to investigate privately is to assist in clearing him of suspicion –”

“No, no, hold on, don’t move on just yet,” Wei Wuxian said, holding up his hands. “You think Zewu-jun – Lan Xichen! – might be capable of poisoning his sworn brother and, as far as I know, best friend? Your nephew?”

“Yes.”

“You really think he’s capable of something like that?”

“I have done my best to raise him to be the sort of man who would not be,” Lan Qiren said, and thought suddenly of his own brother – their father had treasured him, cared for him, valued him above all else. Would he have ever imagined that he would do what he had done and end up living out his life in seclusion, only to die pointlessly at the hands of the Wen sect? “And yet, who’s to say?”

“Uh, me? All the cultivation world? It’s Zewu-jun! He’s one of the most upright people I’ve ever met! You might as well suspect Lan Zhan – you don’t, do you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. He appreciated the righteous crescendo in Wei Wuxian’s voice, particularly when Lan Wangji was mentioned – unfortunate as it might be to find that Lan Wangji’s seemingly hopeless affection might actually be requited, since it remained a terrible idea – but it was a little inconvenient at the moment. “But equally I cannot burden him with the duty to suspect his brother. It would only hurt him.”

Wei Wuxian quieted down at that. “I can see that,” he said, grimacing. “But…why would you suspect Zewu-jun?”

“The evidence is – suggestive.” Lan Qiren shook his head. “To be clear, while I will of course value the truth above all else, I am not looking for evidence of Lan Xichen’s guilt. I am hoping to exculpate him.”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward, now frowning in earnest. “All right,” he said. “I still don’t really believe it, but other people might, and that’s bad enough. Even unfounded rumors can make for real trouble. Tell me what you know about it.”

“My nephew has been helping Nie Mingjue to ease the symptoms of his familial tendency towards qi deviations by playing him one of the strongest and most secret Lan sect healing songs,” Lan Qiren explained. “The spiritual poison I have observed in Nie Mingjue’s body is precisely a variation on that healing song – only instead of the pure version, which is designed to calm and heal disrupted qi, it is intermixed with another song that deliberately encourages spiritual turmoil.”

“All right. I suppose playing for Chifeng-zun gives Zewu-jun opportunity, but that doesn��t mean he’s the only one who could’ve applied the poison song.”

“The Song of Turmoil is a rare import, hidden away in one of sect’s forbidden books. Only very few people have access to that part of our collection.”

Wei Wuxian arched his eyebrows. “And yet you can immediately recognize it?”

“I enjoy studying obscure musical texts as an aid in composition,” Lan Qiren said, mild censure in his voice. “Would you dare claim you do not do the same?”

“…fine, fine, good point.” Wei Wuxian waved his hand. “Okay, fine…still, I’m not convinced. Even if the only source of the song is the Lan sect’s library, there was a lot of chaos these past few years. Someone else could have picked it up, couldn’t they?”

“It’s possible,” Lan Qiren admitted. “Unfortunately, the tune had the same starts and stops that are characteristic of Xichen’s playing.”

As a musical cultivator, even Wei Wuxian had to concede that the unique quirks of playing style were difficult, although not impossible, to replicate, and moreover that one would have to wonder why anyone else would bother doing so, especially in a spiritual poison they presumably hoped would go entirely undetected. He rubbed his forehead, clearly thinking it over. “So, wait, are you saying you heard this musical poison getting played? Were you affected by it? Why didn’t you interrupt in order to stop it or to find out who was responsible?”

Lan Qiren shook his head. “I did not hear the playing, only the effects.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “I don’t understand. If you didn’t hear it get played, how do you know that the playing had Zewu-jun’s idiosyncratic characteristics?”

“I’m very familiar with how Xichen plays. How would I not notice it? Even if I only heard it intermixed with Nie Mingjue’s own base tone, the sound is distinctive enough to recognize.”

Wei Wuxian was staring at him, looking blank again. A moment later his brow furrowed as if he’d just had a thought that seemed strange to him. He said, “Honored teacher, a question. When I said I wasn’t the one who cast the curse on Jin Zixun, you said that the person who cast it played the guqin, not the flute. I’d been wondering…how did you know that?”

“The curse has the sound of a breaking guqin string, which does not accord with Jin Zixun’s own music,” Lan Qiren explained. “The person who cast it was moderately powerful and very well-trained, although this represents an overreach on their part. I think it is likely that they incurred a backlash due to the casting –”

“You just heard it?” Wei Wuxian interrupted. It was rather rude, but Lan Qiren supposed he’d signed up for that. “You just looked at him and heard the curse that had been placed on him?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“You can hear what people’s spiritual energy sounds like?” Wei Wuxian was growing pale.

“Not spiritual energy directly,” Lan Qiren said, a little puzzled by what seemed like an outsized reaction. Not only was Wei Wuxian’s face pale, his fists clenched, but his song, normally so free and clear, had become suppressed, tense, tightly strung. “More in the nature of the sound of a person’s spirit itself. Your Ghost General, for instance; he has a very gentle melody, very soft, but the underlying base is harsh, jagged, thick with resentment, less playing than dying – he needs to learn to marry those two parts of his spirit together, or else he’ll have trouble finding peace. That’s why I offered to take him as a student.”

“What about me?” Wei Wuxian asked. He was almost vibrating with the need to know. “What about my music? Has it – changed?”

“It’s gotten a little more sober, which is not uncommon with tragedy,” Lan Qiren said, and felt as though he were on the edge of some terrible revelation. “But no, fundamentally you remain the same person you always were.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled, hard. A trill of relief.

“Something happened that made you think it would change,” Lan Qiren deduced, reaching up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. He watched as Wei Wuxian’s eyes flickered one way, then another. “Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him.

“Are you unwilling to return to orthodox cultivation – or unable?”

There was a world of difference between the two: one was arrogance, relentless and unrestrained, looking down at the truths the cultivators of the world and their ancestors had worked so hard to unearth, the other merely a depressing practicality – who wouldn’t choose to cultivate something if the alternative was nothing at all?

And yet…how could it be?

And why would Wei Wuxian be so terrified of letting others discover it?

“That’s none of your business,” Wei Wuxian said, teeth set in a bitter smile that was more of a grimace than anything else. “I agreed to help you, Honored Teacher, but my business is my own.”

“But –”

“Another question,” Wei Wuxian said. “Different subject: I know you don’t lie, and earlier you said…what you said. So tell me, what Lan sect girl has her heart so set on me that you decided to come tell me in person that I wasn’t allowed marry her?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “I only meant to advise you that it was a poor match for you both; it was not meant as an insult to you,” he objected, a little offended. “If you and Wangji insist, I will not stand in your way.”

He shook his head and sighed a little, regretful; he would not pursue the matter Wei Wuxian was hiding any further. He wanted to help, curiosity itching at him, but Wei Wuxian was right – it was none of his business.

“As long as your reliance on demonic cultivation does not impede your assistance in my investigation, I will not bring it up again,” he concluded. “How do you propose we begin?”

“…Lan Zhan?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I already explained to you why I do not wish to involve Wangji, and that I do not suspect him. Why would we start with him?”

“Not for the investigation,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, his face bright red. “About the – marriage!”

#mdzs #lan qiren #wei wuxian #jin guangshan #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #polyphonic

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tanadrin · 4 years

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How /did/ things change after 2001? I was born in that year and everyone says it was different before, but I've never really gotten a sense of how.

It is difficult for me to emphasize just how different the world you see on the evening news is now, from what it was like before 2001, at least as I remember it. There’s a scene in Farscape, where after years of trying to get home, the astronaut protagonist John Crichton finally makes it back to Earth with his alien friends in tow, and when he’s reunited with his father, he’s shocked to discover his dad has gone from this optimistic, forward-looking, hopeful dreamer to a nervous, jingoistic conservative. His attitude is basically, “yes, there’s dangerous aliens out there who may or may not be trying to kill us--but the galaxy is a place full of wonders you’ve never dreamed of.” His father, in the meantime, has retreated from his hopes for a science-fiction future, and views his new alien friends with suspicion.

It’s not a subtle metaphor, but it’s true. The 90s--at least in the US, at least as I remember them--were a relentlessly optimistic period. Even if things were not yet at their ideal state, there was very much a sense they were heading there; politics was mostly down to what exact flavor of the neoliberal consensus you preferred, Clinton or Bush, and the international triumph of liberal democracy was either a fait accompli (cf. the erstwhile USSR), or just around the corner (cf. hopes for China’s liberalization in the wake of market reforms). Yes, in retrospect, this was kind of a dumb world view. If you actually lived in Russia in the 90s--to say nothing of the Balkans--it was a rough decade, and a lot of the relentless optimism of the period in the United States was down to the privileged position we viewed the world from.

The blunting of that optimism--the reminder that we were still embedded in history, and the final triumph of everything good and just was not foreordained--would not in itself have been a catastrophe. Terrorism was not a strange concept in the 90s, and even Al-Qaeda-style terrorism had its predecessors in attacks on American ships and embassies. 9/11 itself was confusing and chaotic and sad, but 9/11 wasn’t the catastrophe. The catastrophe came after, in how we responded.

I think something broke in America between 1945 and 1991. Something shifted, in a nasty way we didn't realize while we were occupied with communism and stagflation and the civil rights movement. I don't mean to say that America before 1945 was the Good Guys. But the American state and the American political class viewed the world with... humility? Like, sure, the can-do Yankee spirit before 1945 had its own special kind of arrogance (and greed, and hideous bigotry), but it still thought of the world in terms of obligations we owed other countries. By the time the Cold War ended, and the US was the sole remaining superpower, that wasn't how we viewed the world. It was still sort of how we told each other, and our children, what the world was like. We certainly talked a big game about democracy and human rights. But as soon as that principled stance was tested, we folded like a cheap suit. What we should have done after 9/11 was what we had done after every terrorist incident in or against the United States before then: treated it like the major crime it was, sent a civilian agency like the FBI in to investigate, and pursue the perpetrators diplomatically. What we did instead was treat it like the opening salvo of a war--in fact, invented a war to embed it within, to give ourselves narrative justification for that stance--and crank every element of paranoid jingoism instantly up to 11. It has never abated since.

Some of this is the little things. The TSA and the Department of Homeland Security--a name I thought was creepy Orwellian shit right from the get-go. The terror alert levels. (God! remember those?) The fact that airport security--despite being just as ineffective today as it was on September 12--is still routinely humiliating and invasive and just a total waste of everybody’s time. Some of it is the big things. The way security, and the need for security, trumps all other demands including the state’s obligation to protect civil rights. And the fact that this just isn’t even up for debate anymore. 9/11, as Chomsky presciently observed, was a boon for authoritarians everywhere. Suddenly, “counterterrorism” was the magic word that let you get away with anything, like “anti-communism” twenty years prior. At the most extreme end, this led to things like anti-atheism laws being promulgated in Saudi Arabia in the name of “counterterrorism,” but you don’t have to go that absurd to find ways in which the security state has fostered authoritarianism. In every aspect of our lives, this new, fearful outlook on the world justified a gradual ratcheting down of freedom, the gradual empowerment of petty tyrants everywhere, and the weak protests, fading into silence, of people who still believed in liberty as an important organizing principle for modern society. It wasn’t even that you’d get called a terrorist-sympathizer or anything that blatant. It just ceased to be regarded as important. It wasn’t that you were wrong, or misguided, or evil. You were just a non-serious person, someone whose opinion was clearly irrelevant, whose head was permanently in the clouds, if you thought that stuff still mattered. And that never went away.

And I think a big part of what changed between 1945 and 1991 was that the US started to believe its own jingoism. When did this start? Vietnam? Earlier? Korea? I don’t know. It’s hard to pinpoint, given that my understanding of the cultural zeitgeist of the decades before I was born mostly came from my dad’s old Doonesbury collections. I don’t know how to describe what we became--what we, hideously, revealed ourselves to be--except as a kind of machismo. A kind of ruthless, General Ripper-esque us-versus-them psychosis that gripped us where the Soviets were concerned, and never let up. And we still believe it. It still infects every atom of our political discourse. We don’t question the necessity of drone strikes, only who to drone strike and how much. We don’t really question the massive powers we’ve afforded the executive branch to wage war and conduct espionage--including kidnappings and torture--and we’ve kind of forgotten that we still have a prison camp in Cuba full of people who have never been convincted of any crime. In a way, we lost faith in law entirely: by God, we couldn’t try terrorists in American courts! (Why not? What’s wrong with American courts? Don’t we have faith in our own laws, at least?) No, justice wasn’t a matter for the law to decide anymore. Justice was a matter for the military only: justice came in the form of strength of arms. Ergo, shooting Bin Laden in the head and calling that justice; ergo, Jack Bauer; ergo, blowing up Yemeni weddings. Keep America Safe. I can’t begin to tell you how alienating and horrifying so much of the last 20 years has been, if the most consequential news stories of your childhood were the OJ Simpson murders and a discussion of the President’s cum stain.

In my opinion, the seminal text of the post-9/11 world was released in the year 2000. In the original Deus Ex video game, the year is 2150, and the world is a dark, depressing place. You, the game’s hero, work (initally) for a UN counterterrorism agency while a plague ravages the world. You hunt terrorists whose existence has provided the justification for an authoritarian crackdown on dissidents everywhere. You visit a Hong Kong firmly under the control of the CCP, you fight genetically engineered mutants created by huge businesses run amok, FEMA (no DHS then) controls the federal government, and, it turns out later in the game, the bombing of the Statue of Liberty that precipitated the creation of your organization was a false-flag attack used to justify its existence in the first place. Drones patrol the streets of NYC, and the whole thing is steeped in late-90s militia movement-style conspiracy theories about the Illuminati and the New World Order, that look weirdly out of place now that these things are more clearly aligned in the popular consciousness with right wing extremism, when back then they were just seen as kooky weirdos in Montana--but every year since then, we’ve been inching closer and closer to that world, and you know what? It wigs me out a little.

In 2000, Deus Ex was an absurdity, a fever dream of cyberpunk and early-internet conspiracism. It’s a shame that tonally speaking it’s been dead on for the two decades after. But honestly, I think the biggest thing that’s changed about the world since 2001 is our cultural capacity for optimism. I don’t mean in a sentimental way--although if you compare other texts heavily influenced by the post-2001 political milieu, you definitely see a sharp contrast with the optimism of cultural artifacts from earlier eras; science fiction was hit especially hard in this area (cf. RDM’s version of Battlestar Galactica). But I also mean this in a political/ideological sense. We cease to imagine that the world can be made better. We cease to imagine the possibilities that are afforded to us if we are willing to strive for our ideal society, even if we, personally, may never reach it. We make deals with the devil, we let the CIA violate the constitution and federal law six ways from Sunday, we don’t question the prevailing political-economic consensus even if it’s setting the planet on fire and pitching us headlong toward social disaster, because we forgot what it was to feel like those sunlit uplands we’ve been hoping for were just around the corner.

In the same way that my Catholic faith was eventually done in because the ethical principles I was taught were at odds with the manifest monstrosity of the organization that taught them to me and the metaphysics it espoused, my patriotism and my faith in America was done in because when I was a schoolkid, I really did believe that democracy and human rights and equality under the law were important. Some people probably had their illusions--if they ever had any--about the US government stripped away long ago, but I was a white kid from a reasonably prosperous part of town, so it took until the 2000s and my growing political awareness to realize just how flimsy these principles were when they were put to any kind of test. It made me angry; it still makes me angry. I was raised to believe there are some principles that are important enough that you don’t compromise them ever, no matter how scared or worried you are. Just as I was old enough to understand what was going on on the evening news, the United States betrayed everything I had been taught the United States stood for. And as a nation, we never turned back; we never apologized; we never repented. America, as an abstract entity, never was what I thought it was as a kid. But I think it could still become that, if it tried. Alas, very few people seem to believe such a thing is possible anymore. Most days, I’m not sure I do, either.

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Year 3 Part 10- Defending

Hello, everyone.

Welcome back to another chapter. As we last left off, Barnaby officially joined David's side and we get to see some of the ramifications of that today. Wonder what poor Merula thinks of that XD

Elora Dunn I made a Hufflepuff in this version as opposed to Gryffindor. Seemed redundant with a character like Ben already in that house.

Also in this chapter I will feature a small cameo from Chester Davies. My character is a Gryffindor so of course we don't see him that much but I head cannoned him to show up at some point so I hope I did him justice. It is a small bit of filler in here today but as with everything in my story, it's all about the small details and development. Two more to go for Year 3! Enjoy!

If it were any other Slytherin, the new addition to the cursebreaking squad might have been quite awkward. With Barnaby the fit was so seamless, it was though he’d already known everyone for years. Despite his reputation as being one of the toughest kids in school with a penchant for dueling, winning him over revealed a key aspect of his character: that in reality he was just a big softie.

Barnaby loved to duel and learn new spells, his physical strength was immense (as evidenced by being able to lift Rowan off the ground using one hand with ease) and he was already quite tall for his age. But he also carried many other previously unknown attributes, the first of which was that he had a way with animals. He took particular interests in bowtruckles and nifflers, being the only person who knew how to tame them. Professor Kettleburn was so impressed, he made him a full time protege in handling more dangerous creatures such as hippogriffs and even the invisible thestrals.

He also loved to eat and would consume so much food in one sitting that one of the prefects at the Hufflepuff table actually had to ask him to save some for the first years. But above all else, Barnaby Lee at his core was a kind person and despite not being academically inclined, had a simple way of expressing things that put a problem into perspective. Perhaps most telling was that he never truly desired to hurt anyone and would defend those he cared about with vigor.

He explained all of this to Penny in Herbology, who giggled at some of the stories.

“Honestly, I’m actually really glad you introduced him to us the other night, even if he consumed half the food on the table,” she laughed. “I know most people think he’s slow, but he’s so sweet. Chiara went redder than a strawberry when he complimented her necklace.”

The aforementioned girl proceeded to flush the same color.

“I did not!” she protested.

David rolled his eyes as he tended to his dried nettles.

“That’s just because you girls think he’s handsome.”

Penny gave him a playful swat on the head.

“It is not...okay maybe a little.”

David clutched his hands together in a girly, romantic gesture and began speaking in a mock feminine tone.

“Oh Barnaby Lee, he’s ever so dreamy with his green eyes and enormous jaw!”

That earned him a triple swat, this time from Penny, Tonks, and Chiara.

“Focus on your dried nettles, dears!” Professor Sprout called out spotting the mischief from her place at the center of the table.

“Sorry, Professor!” David called out and he added some water to his pot.

“He’s handsome don’t get me wrong, but he’s not my type,” Tonks commented.

“What is your type?”

The pink haired witch shrugged.

“Don’t know really. Haven’t thought about it much.”

“I know Penny and Chiara have been thinking about Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop,” David joked as he falsely gagged, while ducking another swipe from a giggling Penny. “Anyway, the point is, Barnaby is a good bloke. And he’s dead useful to have around.”

“I’m surprised you of all people have accepted someone from Slytherin so readily,” Rowan teased him, coming up behind him to borrow some soil.

“Hey I’m a pretty easy going bloke, I can admit when I’m wrong.”

“Except when it comes to Slytherin apparently,” Tonks teased, which earned her a splat of dung on her robes.

Despite the jokes, the more David was able to get to know Barnaby the more he could feel his animosity slip away. In fact, he almost didn’t mind when the Slytherins became the favorites to win the Quidditch Cup after trouncing Hufflepuff 400-70, the key word being ‘almost’. But there was a practical side to it as well. Upon learning her former minion switched sides, Merula was beside herself with rage and began embarking on a campaign to make both of their lives as difficult as possible. Her taunting became subdued but she constantly attempted to blow up his cauldron in potions, put a flobberworm down the back of his pants, and tried hexing him on more than one occasion in the corridors. It was a mark of frustration; she was no closer to finding the vault but the constant attempts at sabotage began to wear thin.

“You need to learn how to properly defend yourself,” Barnaby told him one day after potions class, a session in which Merula caused the fire underneath his cauldron to flare, which singed off his eyebrows.

“I already know how to defend myself, I’ve beaten Merula in every proper duel we’ve had,” he argued keeping his head down, trying not to let passerbys witness his eyebrow less state.

“Most duels aren’t ‘proper’, Dave. Especially not if Merula is the one starting them. It’s better to be prepared for all kinds of ways people will try to attack you.”

“How come she leaves you alone?” he bemoaned.

“Oh, she doesn’t,” Barnaby admitted. “First she yelled at me and told me I was a traitor so I don’t sit with her anymore. Then she somehow snuck into my dorm and put bulbadox powder into my sheets. I was itching for days after that...”

“-that’s good to know-”

“But you still have a lot to learn. Especially defense.”

“Bill Weasley taught me a few things,” David offered.

“Did he?” Barnaby asked with wonder. “I’ve always heard the Weasley family loved the color orange. Don’t know much about their dueling, though.”

“Er right...well Bill’s definitely talented there’s no doubt about that. Perhaps we could work together on improving.”

Barnaby puffed up his chest with pride.

“If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to fight and teach others how to do it. Also I’ve always wanted to duel a fifth year!”

“We’ll get a spar going soon, mate,” David promised. “In the meantime, I need Madam Pomfrey to regrow my bloody eyebrows.”

It turned out to be solid advice. Though his offensive prowess was high, especially for his age, it turned out the third year Gryffindor did not know much about spells that would protect him from harm as well as cause it. This became apparent when both Bill and Barnaby bested him by simply using shield charms to block whatever he cast. In an effort to improve and become more versatile, he began learning defensive strategies and the application of the shield charm itself. The burly Slytherin also warned him that Merula and Ismelda were constantly studying in the library and by the fireside in an effort to gain an edge when the inevitable rematch occurred.

With Merula Snyde, it’s more like a never ending rematch

However, what he didn’t know was all of this was about to come in handy in a most unexpected way.

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

It all happened quite suddenly and quite by accident.

On an average Saturday morning in early April, David was walking back from his brother’s room after another planning session with Tulip when he noticed Argus Filch prowling along the usual route past the Transfiguration classroom. Though he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong, he still didn't want the caretaker to cast a suspicious eye towards him anywhere near the secret location. So he took a detour through the gardens instead.

Inside the viaduct architecture, he was idly wondering to himself how close Rowan was to breaking the final bit of code inside his brother’s notebook (as well as how pretty Penny looked in her new jumper dress and spring boots) when he noticed something peculiar and also a bit disturbing. Over by the large tree where some the older students liked to hang out, he noticed five of them were standing over a smaller, terrified looking girl who was practically trembling with fear.

Part of himself told him that it wasn’t his business and it was best not to get involved. But the sense of justice, always strong in his persona, prevailed and he made an abrupt perpendicular cut across the grass and towards the commotion. As he drew closer he could hear the dialogue, which only served to feed his temper.

“...didn’t mean to. Please, I don’t want to fight.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you nosed into an area that you don’t belong in,” one of the lead bullies said harshly.

“B-but it’s not your area,” the little girl argued. “It’s for everyone who goes to Hogwarts!”

By now, David had a better look. The girl in question was a first year Hufflepuff who definitely fit the part of someone traditionally ‘uncool’. Thick glasses, short, copper colored brown hair, an oversized sweater to couple with several books clutched in her small hands. There were five who were currently bullying the poor first year, three boys and two girls, at least half of which were from Slytherin and the other two appeared to be Ravenclaw. The leader was a sixth year he recognized as Hadrian Flint, a member of a prominent family of the same name, a brown haired, freckle faced boy with poor teeth and an upward nose that reeked of arrogance. Also present was Ismelda Murk for some reason, who looked as though she happened upon the scene and was along for whatever kicks she could find.

“Just beat it, kid,” one of the Ravenclaws said. “This is our spot. Don’t make us do this the hard way.”

“And besides, Hogwarts doesn’t belong to people like you,” Flint told her nastily while his Slytherin companion nodded in agreement.

“And who would that be exactly?”

His unannounced presence caused Hadrian to spin around and face his challenger. His face immediately became a pronounced sneer.

“Get lost, Gryffindor. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Don’t be shy, Flint. Let the whole world know what you were about to say. I’m sure it will be most enlightening.”

Flint took a step forward but was soon informed by his companion who exactly this Gryffindor was with a whisper to the ear.

“Ahh...the cursebreaker. Well how bout I cut you a deal since I’m feeling right generous today. You go back to your curses and I’ll go back to this curse. Sound fair?”

“She didn’t have any idea this spot is where the older students hang out. Let her go.”

Though Hadrian was taller, David was not about to back down. He knew the reason he was picking on this poor girl and despite being outnumbered was not about to let her become the victim of a borderline torture session like Diana Blishwick the previous year.

“Mudbloods like her don’t deserve anything except learning their place,” Ismelda spoke now, a vicious gleam forming in her cold, gray eyes.

“Shut your hole, Izzy. I’m not even sure what you’re doing here but I do know that Merula’s boots need polishing. Give them some extra shine, will ya?”

Ismelda pulled out her wand in retaliation for the remark but Flint told her off in equally harsh fashion.

“Stow it you greasy giraffe neck. Honestly you could be Snape’s daughter with that hair.”

David might have laughed had the older Slytherin not been as equally reprehensible. The Ravenclaw girl and boy (which were evidently a couple) didn’t seem as perturbed anymore, but the rest of the group was hellbent on doing something awful to the muggle born Hufflepuff.

“Last chance. Leave or you suffer just as she does,” Flint told him menacingly. Again, David did not back down, instead he crossed over and put the much smaller girl behind him.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” he told her. “And stay behind me. What’s your name?”

“Elora...Elora Dunn,” came the frightened reply.

“Well, Elora...brace yourself.”

He turned his attention back to Flint, Ismelda, and the other three students that were there. The Ravenclaws did nothing but the other two Slytherins withdrew their wands and Ismelda’s evil smirk grew wider.

“Have it your way then,” the tall Slytherin shrugged. “Immobilus! ”

“Protego! ”

It was his first attempt at using the spell in an actual battle and the results were quite effective. An invisible, reflective shield formed in front of himself and Elora Dunn, causing the spell to ricochet and deflect right back at its owner, freezing his body in place. Within seconds, Hadrian Flint toppled over in a heap on the grass.

It was a victory but a short lived one as the other two Slytherins readied their wands while David still guarded the first year girl. Given his narrow position and the fact that he was protecting someone else he doubted he could fend off two more opponents at the same time. Thankfully, it was not required as suddenly a prefect arrived at the scene, recognizing him to be Chester Davies, who was also head boy.

“Enough! You will stop this now!”

The Ravenclaw couple hadn’t drawn their wands in the first place, but Ismelda did not comply, sending a common cold hex towards David which missed, though the other Slytherin did heed the order.

“I said that’s enough! Five points from Slytherin!” Chester shouted, pointing directly at the third year Slytherin, who reluctantly relented, her pale expression now extremely sour.

“What in Merlin’s name is happening here?” he continued to inquire. “Dueling is forbidden.”

His gaze settled on David and he knew the time to explain was now. He had never interacted with Chester before though there was a chance he knew of his cursebreaking exploits. Either way it was best to act quickly.

“I didn’t start whatever you witnessed,” he told him. “Flint and his goons were attempting to harm Elora here.”

The first year Hufflepuff peeked out from behind his back at long last.

“It’s true. He defended me when I thought I was about to be hexed. They called me a uh…”

The poor thing, David thought sadly. She clearly had not heard that word used against her yet. Anger flared within him knowing it wouldn’t be the last.

He mouthed the word ‘mudblood’ to the Head Boy, who’s face reeled in horror. Chester Davies, known for his mellow, taciturn demeanor then unleashed quiet fury, first on the Ravenclaw couple.

“But we didn’t do anything!” the fifth year boy protested.

“You still threatened her,” Chester said coldly. “And by standing by and allowing the other three to do harm you have disgraced yourself.”

“The little brat wouldn’t leave!” the girl shouted back.

But that only served to further their scolding

“You claim to be part of our house and yet have the wit and foresight of a damp rag. I will be reporting this to Professor Flitwick and I will recommend detention for a week. Five points from Ravenclaw.”

Chester then took the time to reluctantly unfreeze Hadrian Flint, who immediately leapt to his feet and tried to spin a tale.

“You all saw it! He attacked me!”

“Stuff it, Flint,” the Ravenclaw immediately shut down. “I saw you cast the first spell and I know the word this one used to describe Miss Dunn,” she said, indicating Ismelda, who looked as though she wanted nothing more than to kill everyone present. “Rest assured, McGonagall will be informed as will Professor Snape.”

Furious and belligerent, Flint spat on the ground, uttering, “Blood traitor.”

David thought Chester might blow a gasket (he knew he would have) but instead he coolly regarded him as though he were simply another stone inside the Hogwarts walls.

“Better a blood traitor than what you are, Flint. Now get out of here.”

The tall, lanky Slytherin heeded her this time and shuffled away with his companion. Ismelda had seemingly skulked off as well.

“I’ll handle these two,” Chester told him, as he too ordered his housemates away. “You see to it that the first year gets back to the Hufflepuff common room. You did a good thing today.”

Admiration increased for the Head Boy as David nodded and looked over to Elora, giving a kind look.

“Come on, let’s go.”

As they walked back towards kitchens, he noticed Elora fidgeting as though she wanted to say something. Eventually, she mustered up the courage.

“Um...what’s your name?”

“David,” he replied simply.

“Thank you, David for saving me back there. I wish I was brave like you.”

He stopped just before they reached the barrels leading to the Hufflepuff common room and knelt down to make proper eye level contact with her.

“Elora, you’re already brave. At no point in time did you move when those gits asked you too. There wasn’t a braver person today in all of Hogwarts.”

She beamed so much David thought she might shed tears over the books she was carrying. Then, her face became puzzled.

“What was that name that girl called me?” came the innocent but horrifying question.

David sighed, he’d hoped it wouldn’t come to him having to explain something like that. But he wasn’t going to pull punches either. Someone like Elora needed to know the intentions of people such as Flint, Ismelda, and others.

“You come from a family with no magical background. Therefore some that do think you aren’t as good as they are,” he said sadly.

“But why?”

Therein lay the crux of the issue: why . Truth was, he could give many reasons why but none of them could adequately explain prejudice. It was something you lived through, but nothing about it was logical.

“It’s complicated,” came his reply. “Just know this: you are just as worthy to study magic as anyone else here. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise….also learning a few jinxes wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Can you teach me?”

Though he was a bit surprised, the innocent eyed look of this first year softened the dubiousness of his answer.

“Sure thing. We can find the time.”

Elora nodded and suddenly gave him a big hug, unexpectedly throwing off his balance.

“Ack! He...thanks kid.”

The first year tapped second barrel from the bottom in a distinct rhythm and skipped her way inside, but David didn’t immediately leave leave the area. He paused, willing himself not to drive himself into a fury over what just occurred.

Not all Slytherins are bad

David thought of Barnaby and how he was able to persuade him to change sides and the difference it made in his character. Or the eccentric Liz Tuttle helping him with potions ingredients. Then he thought of people like Ammon Lucian, Hadrian Flint, Ayla Yaxley, and Ismelda Murk and the pit of black vengeance returned, bubbling like tar ready to consume all who became entrapped in it.

As if to punctuate the conflict, Merula Snyde popped into his mind as did Liz Tuttle’s words regarding her

“Merula’s not all bad…well she’s mostly bad. But I know for a fact she’s had a hard life and she’s not always what she seems.”

He shook his head. What did she mean by that? He knew Merula’s parents were locked up in Azkaban but by all accounts she lived like a queen in Hertfordshire in the Snyde Manor. At no point in time had she ever apologized or bothered to show there was anything lurking beneath except vicious arrogance and deceit.

So why was there pain in her lavender eyes every time he beat her in a duel? Why was she so obsessed? What was it about him and his brother that Merula couldn’t let go?

David pushed those thoughts aside for now, having little time or patience to figure out the psychological ramifications of the house of snakes. There was homework to finish and another vault to find and break its curse.

If it took a few Slytherins, whether enemies or friends, to get there he would do so.

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

David never expected much to come of his deeds the previous Saturday. As far as he was concerned, the act of aiding Elora suited him just fine. They’d even scheduled a time to meet where he could show her a few spells. Come Monday, however, that changed.

While at breakfast with Ben, Charlie, and Jae (the latter of whom was chugging multiple goblets of milk on a bet) he was called to the head table by Professor McGonagall.

“David Grant!” she called out. “Please step forward.”

By this time, he temporarily forgot about what had happened and assumed whatever his head of house wanted was nothing good. Usually when they talked outside of class it was due to some trouble he’d been up to or the cursed vaults...oftentimes both.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked as he reached her place at the faculty chair.

“It has come to my attention that you were involved in an altercation last weekend involving a first year student and five others.”

David felt his heart quicken. Was she really about to punish him for doing the right thing?

“Yes...I was.”

But he need not have worried, for in the next moment she gave him a rare smile.

“Do not worry yourself, Mr. Grant. I know you were attempting to protect Miss Dunn from those who sought to make her feel unwelcome and unwanted.”

Her nostrils flared showing a subtle moment of anger before it vanished and she continued.

“Your actions are to be commended. Twenty points to Gryffindor for your courage and defense of those younger than yourself.”

Fear instantly turned to immense happiness as he reciprocated the smile.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“You are welcome. And do tell Mr. Kim that he will likely vomit if he continues in his high consumption of milk. I do not want a mess in the Great Hall nor in my classroom when it occurs today.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I expect nothing less from one of my best Transfiguration students.”

He was sent on his way feeling considerably proud of himself for getting the normally strict and reserved Professor McGonagall to show not only a positive emotion but pride in him. And there was more yet to come. Before he could retake his seat, another familiar face confronted him, this time in the person of Angelica Cole.

“I heard what happened as well, David.”

“In case you were wondering, I earned twenty house points out of it so by your standards I should be showered with roses, am I right?”

Angelica rolled her eyes but her mouth twisted upwards in a smile all the same.

“Incorrigible as ever. But I want to echo McGonagall’s sentiments. Chester told me everything and what you did is precisely what our house is supposed to entail: courage, protecting those who cannot protect themselves.”

She paused before continuing.

“When we first met I thought you were going to be another troublemaker. But I was wrong. And I want to apologize.”

David was surprised, not necessarily by the apology (he and Angelica had gotten on fine this year) but the sentiment she was showing. There was a heavy amount of emotion in her eyes and an acute sense of something bigger at stake.

“Angelica, are you alright?”

“Do you know why I’m saying these things?” she asked him point blank.

“Because I’m just so naturally charming?”

“Because I’m leaving,” Angelica corrected, ignoring his joke. “I have less than two months left at Hogwarts before I graduate. And whether you realize it or not, you’re rising in seniority. David, I want you to take my place after I’m gone.”

He blinked a couple of times, hardly daring to believe his ears.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I know it isn’t coming for at least two more years. But before I leave Hogwarts I’m going to recommend to Professor McGonagall that you be made prefect when your time comes. Through everything there is a quality you have that stands out: leadership.”

David couldn’t help but remain shocked at the ringing endorsement but there it was. He had gone from pain in the arse to leadership material in the span of two years. Nevertheless, he thanked his prefect sincerely.

“Angelica...this means a great deal. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank yourself,” she said smiling. “I told you at the beginning of the year that you were worth more than wisecracks and being Jacob Grant’s younger brother. You’ve earned that distinction and much more.”

The conversation ended as the seventh year was forced to quell a potential food fight at the end of the Gryffindor table and David rejoined his group but with positive thoughts to enjoy for once.

“What happened with McGonagall and Angelica?” Charlie asked. “You certainly seem pleased.”

“I dunno mate, they’ve appeared to take a liking to me all of a sudden.”

“Everyone likes you, Dave,” Ben reminded him.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Ben. But even my popularity has limitations. In particular with a brown haired, deriding, boot wearing, Slytherin girl.”

“Wouldn’t worry about her so much,” Jae replied, by now having stopped chugging milk though he still sported a white mustache as a result. “She ain’t exactly popular among her own house anymore. Most people find her insulting and cruel.”

“She can sit on a pin for all I care,” David shrugged. “Maybe I’m just becoming a little more mature.”

“That’s hilarious,” Charlie laughed.

“So is your bloody snoring even though it keeps me up at night.”

They continued to banter like this for the rest of breakfast when Rowan happened on the scene and right away everyone could tell he had stumbled upon something quite important just by the look in his eye.

“Rowan, you’re just in time to see whether or not Jae can light a fire from his wand with a fart."

But the joke either didn’t register or it paled in comparison to the news

“I need to speak to you,” he said directly to David. “Alone.”

Shrugging but also silently recognizing that something big was going on he played it off as though it were nothing to avoid arousing suspicion.

“Alright then. Lead the way.”

As careful and inconspicuously as they could, Rowan and David exited the Great Hall and into a private column within the corridor. Upon making sure no one was watching, the former of the two boys pulled out a familiar, leatherback, brown notebook.

“I did it,” he whispered. “I finally managed to match the half page to another message in the book and decipher it.”

This was indeed wonderful news and David could hardly wait to hear it. Excitement pulsed through his veins, barely being able to contain it.

“Rowan that’s amazing! Go on! What does it day?”

Proudly and pompously flipping to the correct page, Rowan read the information aloud but also in a hushed tone so no one would hear them.

“‘The entrance is the Restricted Section of the library. That is the source of the fear and the vault itself.’ ”

David ran a hand through his hair, ecstatic but also mentally kicking himself. Of all the places they looked, the one place they forgot was the restricted section?

“I know that look,” Rowan told him seriously. “Don’t beat yourself up. None of us here had any idea where the entrance was, even with your brother’s notes. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Drive and passion drove David to new levels of happiness and determination. They had managed to navigate through all manner of blockages, dead ends, and run arounds only to finally come through in the end. They knew where the vault was and now it was time.

“Time to break into this latest cursed vault,” he spoke aloud.

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giftofshewbread · 3 years

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CRITICAL MESSAGE *READ*

Does God Ever Let You Down? :: By Steve Schmutzer

Published on: February 26, 2021

Does God ever let you down?

Wait. Before you answer, I’m not interested in cliché replies. You know, “In all things, God works for the good of those who love Him,” or, “God’s plans are to give me a hope and a future.” I don’t want to hear that old standby, “He knows what’s best for me.”

Those responses ARE Biblically-based, and so they’re true when they’re properly applied with the right heart to the right situation. But in my experience, too many people say this kind of stuff when their faith has reached its limits. They are barely able to endure their pain, describe their confusion, or contain their rage.

Just because we can force certain words out of our mouth does not mean we are saying what we are truly feeling. Just because we can’t admit what’s really going on does not mean it isn’t.

Let’s be totally honest here – have you ever been mad at God? Did you ever bargain with Him in your heart and now you’re upset He didn’t keep up His end of the arrangement? Are you still “fighting the good fight,” but you’re exhausted and despaired? Did you take the high road – but you got the raw end of the deal?

Now – let’s get down to the brass tacks: Did you pour yourself into the task of raising your children the right way only to have them disappoint you with their choices?

Are you laboring long and quietly in a ministry while others with less gifting, less commitment, and less maturity are getting the reward and recognition?

Have you prayed and tried for years for a baby and one still hasn’t come? Meantime, irresponsible parents are popping out feral kids like rabbits?

Did you carefully plan for a simple and responsible retirement – only to see it all evaporate in the wake of unexpected health problems and medical bills?

Have you prayed around the clock for justice and truth to prevail, but all you see is the flourishing of evil and deceit?

Have you lost your job and now you are struggling to find work that pays the bills?

Did you find the man or woman of your dreams, but things have changed and now you wish you hadn’t?

So let me ask the question one more time: does God ever let you down? If you are feeling that way, or are tempted to – you are not alone. Even people that knew Jesus personally might have felt that way… or at least they may have felt they had reason to.

You see, we can talk all day long about our “relationship with God,” but three Biblical characters come to my mind that actually knew Him personally. I mean, they interacted with Jesus, they watched Him, listened to Him, and learned from Him. They knew who Jesus really was! Their lives are recorded in the New Testament as being part of His life, so the personal connection went both ways.

Despite that, I think it can be argued that all three of these people might have felt some disappointment with Jesus. Put another way, they might have admitted they felt let down by God.

But all three characters faced their natural reactions and chose to respond to Jesus in different ways. I think we can learn something from their examples because these are ways we still respond to Jesus Christ today.

The first of these three characters is John the Baptist. He had a key role before Jesus’ ministry. Since he and Jesus were cousins, he probably knew Jesus as they were growing up together. Maybe they even played together as children – this is not an unreasonable assumption.

John the Baptist turned out to be a rough and rugged character – unconventional, certainly. He was a strong man with equally strong convictions. He didn’t think twice about confronting the hypocritical religious leaders and calling them a “brood of vipers” (Matt. 3:7). His straight talk and no-nonsense approach attracted truth-seekers, and he had many followers and disciples.

A time came, however, when John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry as a “voice in the wilderness” (John 1:23). He did this because he had a right view of Jesus. John said of Him, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30), so John the Baptist grasped the proper priorities and how things needed to be.

None of this was an act. John the Baptist was a man of God who had a passion for proclaiming the truth and for living it out. His extraordinary ministry and exemplary character were affirmed when Jesus said of him that there was “…none greater” (Luke 7:28). To be sure, John the Baptist was the real deal.

It is difficult to know how much time John the Baptist actually had with Jesus Christ. There was that special occasion where John had baptized Jesus (Matt. 3:13-17), and John had felt that Jesus should have baptized him instead. But in their adult years, it seems they had little face-to-face contact.

We know John the Baptist publicly confronted Herod Antipas for the king’s sins (Matt. 14:1-13), and this had resulted in John’s arrest and imprisonment – and ultimately his beheading. This happened early in the ministry of Jesus Christ, so there was no opportunity for further contact between the two cousins after that point.

It is after John’s arrest that we learn of his doubts about Jesus Christ. In a desperate situation with his life on the line, John the Baptist faced gnawing questions. Reports of Jesus had found their way into John’s cell, and news of Jesus’ ministry had worked its way into the fabric of John’s deepest frustrations. Time had passed since that glorious baptism, and Jesus’ ministry was now thriving while John’s had abated.

John’s disciples fed him bits and pieces of information as they were able to, and it’s fair to say these reports reinforced the misgivings John had of Jesus. You see, the ministries and activities of Jesus and John were very different, and it’s not beyond reason to suggest these differences aroused John’s concerns.

John’s choices had set him apart from the crowd while Jesus’ choices had blended in. John the Baptist and his disciples fasted often, but Jesus and his disciples ate and drank with sinners (Matt. 11:18-19). John performed no signs in his earthly ministry (John 10:41), but Jesus – and his disciples – performed miracles of every kind (Matt. 9:35, 10:1). John lived reclusively, but Jesus was a very public person who was often surrounded by enormous crowds of people.

Now John was sitting in prison, captive most of all to his own disappointments. It’s not hard to imagine the questions that may have gone through his mind, such as, If Jesus was really the Messiah as he himself – John – had announced, then why wasn’t Jesus doing more? Why was Jesus not getting down to the business of establishing His kingdom and burning up the wicked with unquenchable fire? (Matt. 3:12). Was he here in prison because Jesus was powerless to do anything about the situation?

When John the Baptist could resist his own insecurities no longer, he sent some of his disciples to confront Jesus and to ask Him directly, “Are you the promised Messiah or should we be looking for someone else?” (Matt. 11:2-3). The question is a revealing one because it shows John had expectations of Jesus that were unfulfilled. It also shows that John the Baptist was unsure, doubtful, and delicate – the same way you and I have felt from time to time.

John wanted to know if he’d been misled. Was Jesus their only hope or was somebody else going to come along that was a better fit for the job? Was Jesus Christ really the Messiah, or not?

Jesus sent John’s disciples back to John with an answer, but it was hardly the one John the Baptist was seeking. Jesus challenged John to consider the evidence of His miracles, and he added, “…blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” In other words, Jesus exhorted John to cling to the truth of Old Testament Scripture. He did not give John a simple “yes” or “no” answer, but he left him hanging a bit. Jesus responded to John’s heart instead of his mind because John’s heart was the seat of his faith.

We can say John the Baptist was wrong for the ideas he had about how Jesus needed to operate, but – honestly – we’re not much different. We expect God to work in certain ways too, and if God does not fulfill our expectations, we also get disappointed.

We may not like to admit it, but it’s easy for us to think that if our God is really the God He says He is, then we have a right to expect something different from Him. I feel it’s likely that John died with some of his questions unanswered. That doesn’t mean his faith wasn’t real. It means he was human, and because he was human, his reactions to Jesus Christ were imperfect – the same way yours and mine can be too.

A second character that probably felt let down by Jesus Christ was Judas Iscariot. What do we know of him?

As one of the original 12 disciples, Judas Iscariot basically lived with Jesus for three years. He was given assignments and divine powers by Jesus (Matt. 10:1-4), and he was the official treasurer for the group (John 12:6) – albeit a deceptive and self-serving one.

The bottom line is Judas saw Jesus perform many miracles and he heard Jesus teach many times. He learned directly from the King of kings and Lord of lords, and he had the opportunity to grow as few others did. He saw the mistakes and the actions of the other disciples, and he learned from all of this. In other words, as a disciple of Jesus Christ, Judas Iscariot had the optimal schooling in the Gospel of the kingdom.

But it’s likely that Judas Iscariot was also a Jewish zealot. Many scholars believe his surname, “Iscariot” was a form of the title Sicarii, meaning “dagger-men.” This was a group of zealots who despised the Roman oppression. They were known to carry a knife with them, so they were prepared to assassinate traitors and capitulators. The Jewish zealots were principally motivated by socio-economic and political considerations. They believed that if they turned their nation back to God and incited a war against the Romans, the Messiah would rise to lead them and establish His Kingdom.

It’s easy to see how all this may have played out in Judas’ mind. Jesus was a righteous Jew and a descendant of King David. He spoke of establishing His kingdom, and he cast out demons, produced abundant food, and controlled the weather. Surely Jesus could lead the Jews to victory over the Romans and usher in God’s Kingdom! In Judas’ activist mind, his own ideas made perfect sense.

But somewhere along the line, the situation changed. Judas became disappointed as Jesus let him down. Jesus began to talk about dying, and His descriptions of His coming Kingdom didn’t fit with Judas’ ideals. Judas began to doubt Jesus, and he began to openly chide Jesus for His choices and priorities (John 12:3-6).

We know how this turned out. Judas chose to betray Jesus for 30 pieces of silver (Luke 22:3-6; Matt. 27:3-5). Perhaps Judas had come to a point where he felt Jesus was a fake – a false Messiah, someone who was not fulfilling the expectations that Judas had of a ruler that would lead Israel into her kingdom. We don’t know for sure – but it all seems to fit the larger story.

The bigger issue is the questions that are raised by how things ultimately transpired: How could Judas live, eat, walk, and talk with Jesus Christ day in and day out for three years and still turn out as he did? How could Judas miss the Messiah when he knew him so well? How could Judas hear the Gospel so clearly and miss having the right relationship with Jesus Christ?

We are left with some element of speculation, but it’s reasonable to assume that Judas resented Jesus and felt justified in his own views (Mark 14:6-16). Ultimately, that triggered his decision to turn Jesus over to the authorities. The greater account of Judas Iscariot suggests he had some underlying anger issues with the whole situation – which may explain why “Satan entered him” (John 13:27). The Bible teaches that our anger always gives Satan an opportunity (Eph. 4:27).

In the end, Judas’ response to Jesus Christ was likely dominated by a selfish desire for political change. Judas wanted conditions that were not there. Jesus didn’t overthrow the Romans as Judas wanted Him to, and so Judas’ selfish intentions led to profound personal compromise. It fostered resentment, clouded better judgment, and it ultimately destroyed him. Judas Iscariot wanted things to work out his way – not Jesus’ way. When Jesus didn’t do what Judas most wanted Him to do, Judas was through with Him.

Today, Judas Iscariot’s name is synonymous with betrayal, treachery, and disloyalty. He’s one of the most hated figures in Scripture – so it’s not without some hesitation that I suggest his patterns are often our own.

To lessen the blow, I’ll speak for myself. It is easy for me to get focused on one or two goals in my life to the exclusion of all else God is trying to do. In this situation, I can end up ignoring the things God is doing in my life, the lessons He is teaching me, or the way He is working in the life of my church, my friends, my family, and even my country.

Because it’s natural for me to become selfish in my expectations of God, it’s not hard to start compromising here and there and doing things I once never thought I would. I believe there is a huge principle at stake here. You see, we can be surrounded by believers and ministry and still fall. We can hear the regular teaching of God’s Word and still fail. We can witness God at work and still miss the most important need to be in a right relationship with God.

If we persist in thinking about ourselves first – what we can get out of the situation, what we think the outcomes should be, or how we feel “who” should be doing “what,” then we completely miss what God most needs to accomplish in our own lives the very same way Judas missed it. At that point, resentments creep in and we say and do things we ought not to.

And here’s the third and final character: the thief on the cross. By this, I mean the “good” thief (Luke 23:39-43). We don’t even know his name. There were two thieves who died with Jesus, and while both received the penalty for their crimes, the “good” thief gave Jesus the proper respect.

I feel that – for various reasons – the “good” thief is the most remarkable man of the three individuals we have assessed. What do we know of him? Not much, I’m afraid.

We do know that when Jesus was crucified, there was a cross on either side of Him. On His left and right were two criminals. In the Greek language, they are called “kakourgos,” which has the straightforward meaning of “criminal,” “evil-doer,” or “one who commits serious crimes.”

The “good” thief was a bad man. Other gospels call him a “robber.” He could have been a bandit – someone that ambushed others, took advantage of them, and left them for dead. It’s very likely that this “good” thief had been the sort of person that Jesus had in mind when He told His parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). This “good” thief had been a burden, a blight on society – and so he was sentenced to death for his crimes.

But despite his faulty resume, this “good” thief had a right view of God! He asked the other bellicose thief, “Don’t you fear God?” He put the “bad” thief in his place by correcting the latter’s improper assumptions of Jesus Christ.

To put this remarkable situation another way, the “good” thief’s mouth revealed the condition of his heart (Luke 6:45). The Bible teaches that you are what you say, and the “good” thief said to Jesus Christ, “…remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Whoa! By ANY measure, this is an astounding statement!

Consider that by this point, all of Jesus’ disciples had fled the scene, and only John is recorded as being at the cross (John 19:26). These disciples were the men Jesus had personally trained. These were the guys who had seen supernatural evidence of Jesus’ power and authority. These were the guys who had learned from the Messiah Himself – and they were nowhere to be found!

The “good” thief, on the other hand, had had none of that training and experience. He had not spent the same time with Jesus Christ, and he had not seen all the miracles Jesus had done. He knew far less about Jesus than others did. By conventional standards, the “good” thief had missed the boat.

On top of all that, Jesus Christ was now dying. Beaten and bloodied so badly, He was now unrecognizable (Isaiah 52:14). Jesus was breathing His last right there beside the “good” thief, and by all measures of the term, Jesus Christ appeared mortal. Few people at that crucifixion scene were confident in Jesus Christ’s future kingdom.

But faith sees through the way things seem to the way they really are (Heb. 11:1), and so here the “good” thief showed more faith than many upright personalities in the Scriptures. The “good” thief saw Jesus Christ correctly. He didn’t see a dying man – he saw a living King of kings. He didn’t see someone who had failed and was unable to deliver – he saw someone who was assured of having the final victory. He didn’t see someone who was abused and humiliated by others – he saw someone who had infinite power.

In short, the “good” thief recognized Jesus Christ as the Messiah! He knew Jesus was not an imposter or someone who couldn’t deliver on His promises. The “good” thief looked beyond the limitations of that horrible situation, beyond the natural questions that saturated that awful scene, and he fully understood that Jesus Christ would still receive and set up His everlasting kingdom.

The “good” thief faced personal adversities that exceeded those challenges John the Baptist and Judas Iscariot had faced, and yet – against all human understanding! – he still believed that Jesus was exactly who He said He was. For his astounding demonstration of genuine faith, the “good” thief received way more benefit than he had bargained for.

It’s a weighty question, but I have to ask it. Which one of these three individuals are you most like right now? Are you like John the Baptist: insecure, unsure, disappointed, and needing reassurance that God is still able to be the God you most need? Are you asking God to reaffirm Himself to you so that you can be convinced of His promises and plans?

Perhaps you are like Judas Iscariot: angry, resentful, focused on what you most want and what you feel the situation needs to be. Are you taking in the regular teaching of God’s Word and participating in a ministry – but it’s having little effect on changing who you are and how you’re seeing things?

Or, are you like the “good” thief? You are in a place where the odds are stacked against you – and by all standard assessments, there is no clear evidence that God is demonstrating Himself to you the way your desperate situation most needs Him to. Do you find yourself in a tenuous spot where you cannot see the power of God in the circumstances you are facing – – – and yet your heart is still bursting with faith?

I cannot answer the tough questions of these last few paragraphs for anyone but myself. However, my prayer for all of us is that our faith rises up and shows itself in the tough and uncertain times just as the faith of the “good” thief did.

The “good” thief didn’t see Jesus Christ as someone who had let him down – he properly saw the only one who gave him hope.

#Examine #Thy #Self #if #this #message #doesn't #pierce #your #heart #then #there #is #something #wrong

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ladyanatui · 4 years

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Daiken Ultimate Playlist, Pt. 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

This is the abridged version of my Spotify playlist for all things Daiken, organized from the start of 02 to…eventually.

Part 3 specifically covers from not long after XV-mon and Stingmon first Jogress-evolve through Christmas.

TRIGGER WARNING: This post discusses depression, suicide, emotional abuse, and PTSD quite a lot. Take care of yourself, folks!

Spotify Playlist

Click the song titles for YouTube links (apparently you can’t have more than five videos in a post), and otherwise, enjoy me rambling about Daiken.

One final note: Within the lyrics, I’ve emphasized meaningful words, such as night/nightmare, dark/darkness, miracle(s), kind/kindness, courage/bravery, friend/friendship, sun/star/light, fire/burn/ignite, angel(s), and words related to water/drowning.

“Carry On” by fun.

Though I've never been through hell like that I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back

If you're lost and alone Or you're sinking like a stone Carry on May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground Carry on

And in the meantime, he knows that for Ken to feel better and move on, Ken needs to come to terms with his past while also not dwelling on it. Even by the end of the season, though, Ken still has a long way to go.

“Skin” Sixx:A.M.

When they start to judge you Show them your true colors And do unto others As you'd have done to you

Just rise above this Kill them with your kindness Ignorance is blindness They're the ones that stand to lose

One of Ken’s worst hangups about joining the team, though, is the fact that most of them still hesitate. Worst of all, Iori blatantly doesn’t want him there, though he does feel obligated to help Ken after Ken and Stingmon save his life. But Daisuke knows that as the others spend time with him and get to know him, they’ll love him just as much as he does.

“On My Own” by Ashes Remain

Every little thing that I've known Is everything I need to let go You're so much bigger than the world I have made So I surrender my soul I'm reaching out for your hope I lay my weapons down I'm ready for you now

And then, of course, there comes a time when Ken finally starts to come to terms with the fact that he can’t do this alone, that he needs their help and, more importantly, their friendship. This moment is difficult to pinpoint because it’s a slow process, but it’s probably right around episode 30 when Arachnemon creates BlackWarGreymon. Daisuke and Miyako trick him and Iori into working together in an attempt to get them to become friends, but the plan backfires when neither Ken nor Iori are fooled. But a few episodes later, by the time they’re defending the Holy Stones from BlackWarGreymon, Ken is working with the team.

And we can’t forget episode 35, where Daisuke invites Ken over for dinner to brainstorm about defeating BlackWarGreymon, and then suddenly it’s the next morning and Ken spent the night, which was definitely not part of the initial plan (they altered this in the English dub so that Daisuke asks him to spend the night after asking him over for dinner). The look on Ken’s face the following morning, when he wakes up to having spent the night at Daisuke’s home and watching their Digimon laugh and play together...it’s utterly heartwarming. He finally knows what it means to have a friend, and you couldn’t possibly find anyone more grateful.

“Doubt” by Twenty One Pilots

Temperature is dropping, temperature is dropping I'm not sure if I can see this ever stopping Shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts, no You are all that I've got, no

But that’s not to say that Ken doesn’t continue to have doubts. There’s still a darkness in him he cannot shake, and he still struggles to believe he deserves to have friends, especially friends so wholly devoted and affectionate like Daisuke.

“Slip the Noose” by The Maine

Break down, hysteric and young Uncomfortably numb Then you sent my pain into oblivion I was on the verge of breaking down Then you came around And not a second too late

It’s pretty safe to say that, by this point, he understands how important Daisuke has become to him, even as he tried to prevent it. This song especially points to Daisuke helping him fight off his suicidal ideations (it’s all in the title).

“Anchor” by Skillet

When I get tired of finding All of the fears I've been hiding You gave me a breath and tell me to rest You never left

This is another song that focuses on the supportive nature of their friendship. Daisuke spends the entire second half of 02 being exactly who Ken needs him to be. He’s the supportive friend who isn’t afraid to tell him the awful truth if the moment calls for it.

And although it’s rarely talked about, Ken is also exactly who Daisuke needs in his life. Ken probably doesn’t realize how important he is to Daisuke, but the goggle boy seriously needed someone who actually listens to him, who respects him, and who loves him--and that’s exactly who Ken becomes as their friendship develops.

“All You Did Was Save My Life” by Our Lade Peace

I'm not dying All you did was save my life Pulled me out of that flat line Put the heartbeat back inside I'm not dying

And overall, it’s not an exaggeration to say that Daisuke legitimately saved Ken’s life. He was the one to activate the Digimental of Miracles, he (and Magnamon) was the one to defeat the Digimon Kaiser, he was the one to prevent Ken from potentially killing himself to stop his base from exploding, and he is constantly the one there to remind Ken of who he needs to be and what he needs to do to overcome his past.

“Picking Up Pieces” by Blue October

How long will I be picking up pieces? How long will I be picking up my heart?

Listen, I'll be as honest as I feel I feel like I'm getting more paranoid and I'm hearing things And they never turn out real It feels like my heart is made of pure steel It's just so heavy all the time

These things take time. Lots of time. To the point where it feels like it will go on forever. Despite the phenomenal progress he makes in 02, even by the end of the season, he still has a long way to go.

“Midnight Thoughts” by Set It Off

Here I am, 12 a.m. Sunken deep into my bed Kept alive by the light of the moon Close my eyes, but my mind's got its own plan tonight And it keeps rubbing salt in the wound

I know it's too late As night turns to day Now there's no escaping the ghost

Throughout this period, Ken is also suffering from nightmares--reminders of his past, including the moment the Dark Seed bored into the back of his neck and changed everything. I’m sure, to him, it feels like no matter how much he tries, he will never be able to move past the pain he’s caused the Digimon and Digital World.

“A Bad Dream” by Keane

I wake up, it's a bad dream No one on my side I was fighting But I just feel too tired to be fighting Guess I'm not the fighting kind Wouldn't mind it If you were by my side

First off, a big thank you to @molkschatz for introducing me to this song--it’s perfect for Ken.

Obviously, this song too references his nightmares, but it has far more to do with his loneliness and fear of losing himself than the actual bad dreams. Ken isn’t your typical fighter--he’s not courageous and spirited the way Daisuke and Taichi are, but he has a strong sense of justice and of right and wrong, which is really why it’s so important for him to help the Digimon and fight against evil. And although he may not be a tradition example of passion, he’s passionate in his own subtle way, and having Daisuke and the other Chosen by his side allows him to explore that side of himself.

“I Don’t Belong Here” by I Prevail

Looking back on the past, all the time I wasted Running from everyone that tells me that I'm fading out Must be mistaken 'cause I, I, I don't feel anything You know I got this brain, it drives me insane Some days I feel I can't take the pain, I'm gone I can't explain it 'cause I, I, I don't need anything (no)

Even as he learns to get along with all the Chosen, Ken struggles most with feeling like he doesn’t belong with the group. This is emphasized, of course, by the fact that he is the only one who doesn’t live in Odaiba, aside from Jyou.

This is most apparent in the Christmas episode where Ken has a holiday party and invites the group. He’s absolutely terrified to invite Iori because he assumes he won’t want to attend, but to his surprise, Iori has accepted him and is pleased he received an invitation because he didn’t expect one. Later, after they send the Digimon who ruined Yamato’s concert back to the Digital World, Ken has to go back to Tamachi and this adorable little exchange happens:

Sora: Ichijouji-kun sure has changed, hasn’t he? Hikari: He sure has. Daisuke: Really? I haven’t noticed anything...

While everyone else is still getting to know Ken as Ken and figuring out how he fits in the group, Daisuke has always seen him this way and has always felt like he belongs.

“Without You” by Breaking Benjamin

Say something new I have nothing left I can't face the dark without you There's nothing left to lose The fighting never ends I can't face the dark without you

There are so many moments throughout the show where Ken forces himself into situations where he is trying to deal with his problems on his own, facing the darkness on his own. But he quickly learns that he needs Daisuke and, to a lesser extent, the others there to help him, and more importantly, that having them fighting by his side doesn’t make him weak.

“Secret Smile” by Semisonic

Nobody knows it but you've got a secret smile And you use it only for me

I associate this song a lot with the Christmas episode because of how big of a deal everyone makes about his laughter but also the episode where Daisuke invites Ken over to his house and Ken just has the most beautiful peaceful smile on his face (mentioned earlier). The truth is that Ken is decidedly different around Daisuke than the rest of them. He’s more relaxed and happy, and once he starts calling Daisuke by his first name, he only does so privately. If other people are around, he still refers to him by his family name even as Daisuke calls him Ken all the time. Their relationship is precious and special, and calling him Daisuke publicly ruins the intimacy of it.

“An Act of Kindness” by Bastille

An act of kindness Is what you show to me It caught me by surprise in this town of glass and eyes Kindness, so many people pass me by But you warm me to my core and you left me wanting more

As the bearer of Crest of Kindness, it’s kind of a big deal for Ken to look at Daisuke and see all the wonderful and utterly kind things that he does. Extending his friendship when he had absolutely no reason to (don’t tell Dai that), defending him and helping him without any expectations in return--Daisuke shows Ken true friendship, and to Ken, that is the biggest act of kindness he ever could have performed.

And again, there’s a reference to Daisuke as a source of heat, much like the sun (plus, you know, the Crest/Digimental of Courage is associated with fire).

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#daiken #daisuke motomiya #ken ichijouji #digimon #digimon 02 #playlist #trigger warning #suicide #emotional abuse #ptsd #depression #mental health #anatui

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iolaajoey · 4 years

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2020 Quarantine Updates

It’s been 3 months long since I’ve gone out to enjoy the earth’s wildly pleasure of connecting and socialising with strangers and new human. There hasn’t been much life happening due to viruses outbreak, and with government regulations laid out to protect the livelihood in the community as to lower the possible higher healthcare expenditure, by lowering exposure to viruses and social distancing, there isn't much physical communication and interaction going on outside the households.

In the meantime, life revolves around house to house; With restaurants gradually closing, stock market crashing, and stores going out of business, making us wondering, is there truly upside to this circumstance? Where is the hopeful light at the end of the tunnel amidst the dark gloomy period? and what is the best thing to do instead of plainly wishing for a quick recovery and turnaround?

Life who used to be full of opportunities, now is headed by cloud of uncertainties. A lot of people becomes more active online, and classes are conducted behind the screen. Groceries shopping turns to delivery and human, who are now more sedentary than what life used to prevail, has become highly reliant on technology, and less movement are required to fulfil the requirement just to survive.

I am living in one of the most stringent lockdown imposed on earth, Singapore. With life pretty much be assumed to go as per normal, school and activities, I have to adjust and change my behaviour of spending more time outdoor to indoor. Browsing for available indoor house activities I can pursue, I found myself cooking, and sometimes, reading and watching movies more. Maybe it’s time for me to learn a new language, as what I have been doing but stopped halfway due to my preference towards Americanism.

Speaking of that, racial injustice happened too. With the death of Mr. George Floyd aggravating the citizens of the US to stand up to racial inequality, United States of America, one of the most influential and powerful country ever existed in my life, sent the message around the globe to stand up; Protesting and demanding justice for the weak and powerless.

Coupled with fear of massive Arctic oil spill, and unemployment, my disbelief of witnessing one of the great world crisis, trapping the life it sustains for millenniums in a mess, is devastating.

As for now, human lives are real-life data analytics subject to government measures and biochemical industry. In a world of the highly standardised and regulated, 20th century has raised the ultimate existential question to the humanity, what should a better world that is as promised to come?

#quarantine #2020quarantine #singapore

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faithfulbutnotfunny · 4 years

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Responding to COVID-19

I’ve personally seen three different responses to the coronavirus out here in Italy (I’m sure there are others too). I wonder which one of these best describes yours… And which one you’d like to be your response…?

Here they are: 1) Fear; 2) Flippancy; 3) Faith.

1) Fear. This virus is spreading quickly. I could get it any time. A loved one could die. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m not in control… All of those observations are plainly true. Maybe you’re gripped by fear. Many are. I’ve seen it take the form of outward panic. But it can also take a subtler form. A suppressed fear. A gradual realisation that this could get really rather serious. A realisation that my plans for my life aren’t ultimately under my control. Perhaps even a realisation that you’re not prepared for death. Neither that of a loved one, nor your own. Fear. That’s the first response I’ve seen. (Is it yours…?) But, as I say, many try to suppress it.

2) Flippancy. The Cambridge Dictionary defines being “flippant” as being “not serious about a serious subject, in an attempt to be funny or to appear clever”. This isn’t necessarily an alternative to the previous reaction; flippancy can be a mere cover up for fear – a way to suppress it. But I’ve seen it become a person’s dominant response – at least outwardly. Maybe it’s the repeated assertions that coronavirus is just like a cold. Or maybe it’s jokes to make light of the situation, showing people you’re not scared. (Who are you trying to convince…?) In Italy, I’ve seen a mixture of these first two responses – with a general movement from flippancy to fear. But I’m not sure which is the more desirable response to have (although I wouldn’t mind appearing funny or clever for once). Which leads us onto the third response I’ve seen.

3) Faith. God hasn’t promised that you, or a loved one, won’t die from the coronavirus; nor has he promised that everything will get much better right away. I’m not talking about blind faith (although I’ve seen a lot of that in response to the virus too – “everything will be fine” – without any empirical basis for such ‘faith’). No, I’m talking about trust in what God has promised and proved.

When confronted with a woman who had recently lost a loved one, Jesus said this, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live…” Jesus is promising that everyone who believes in him will have eternal, perfect life beyond death. Which you probably think is too big a claim to be true. (Like when I [falsely] claimed I could eat 100 mince pies in 100 minutes…) But Jesus is actually saying more than that.

“The resurrection” is an event the Bible looks forward to when all people who’ve ever lived will stand before God for judgment. (Wonderfully, the Bible tells us that God cares about right and wrong, the way we treat him and the way we treat each other. We live in a world where justice will prevail. Don’t you want that…?) And Jesus says he is the resurrection, that is, he’s the judge who will decide your eternal destiny. And he’s promised that the eternal destiny of everyone who believes in him – who trusts what he says and relies on him – will be life perfected with him (no matter what the coronavirus might do to you in the meantime). You see how faith in Jesus can free us from fear of the coronavirus…

Eternal life through faith in Jesus. That’s what God’s promised. And he’s proved it (unlike me with my mince pie claim). After saying this, Jesus innocently and willingly died. Then God publicly raised him from the dead – to give this eternal life to all who trust his promise and rely on him.

Faith in Jesus doesn’t mean not taking COVID-19 seriously – it actually teaches us to value people’s lives more highly. But it does mean having security beyond the uncertainties of this life; and being able to offer real, reliable hope to anyone who will trust Jesus’ promise.

So those are the three different responses I’ve seen to the coronavirus: fear, flippancy, and faith. I wonder which one best describes yours… And which one you want to be your response…?

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edyacouky · 5 years

Text

Can I Protect You? (3/4)

Like promise after the poll, here the next chapter of this fic

Hope you will like it (＾▽＾)

Can be read on AO3 Chapter 01, Chapter 02, Chapter 03

Can be read on Tumblr Partie 01, Partie 02

~*~

Roy has to leave Jason. Both of the omega were distress but they listen to their logical brain.

They know Roy have to retrieve Lian. She can stay at Star City indefinitely with Dinah and Ollie. Especially because Jason want to see her. Since Jason will stay at this hospital, they also have to move at Gotham. Fortunately, Jason still has a few safe houses so Roy have just to bring some of their things so Roy and Lian can live comfortably here.

“I will bring you yours books. Roy said before leave

-You realize that there will not have any place in this room. Jason smile

-Only your favorites ones then.”

They kiss then Roy leaves.

At first, Jason doesn’t believe he can fall asleep. Every time his eyes start closed, he was afraid that when they will open up again his baby will be definitely gone. He keeps rub his belly humming a lullaby. Then finally he was too tired.

When he wakes up, he jumps surprised and disoriented. He didn’t understand why he was feeling so unsafe.

Then he saw Bruce appears in one of the corner of the room.

“What the fuck? B, what are you doing here?

-I told you I will come back. Bruce said seating on the bed

-He is fucking one a.m. Jason groans after looking at his phone. Why are you here now?

-You’re in hospital

.-No shit Sherlock.

-You are pregnant.

-Yeah, so what? You will give The talk after or before you tell me how stupid I was?

-Jason…

-What? Like you don’t want say: “How can you be so stupid in using Catherine’s maiden name, Jason? How can you think you can be a mother, Jason? Why do you think we needed it you, Jason? You only cause trouble, Jason.”

-Jason, please …

-No. Shut up. I don’t want listen to you. Just go.

-Ok, I will leave. Bruce concedes after a long silence. But first I have to warn you.

-Warn me about what? Jason asks afraid he puts his arms on his belly

-I … I didn’t react the way I should have when Dick and Kate bring you to the hospital.

-What did you do?

-I tell the hospital you were my son, as Bruce Wayne. Bruce admit

-Are you serious? Jason start to yell-

Look I just wanted tell you that the journalist may come here.

-May? They will come! I can’t believe you … Fuck. And I was thinking that I was stupid.

-Of course we will do everything so you can rest and focus on your and your child’s health.

-What will you do? Jason asks suspicious

-Well, we will be kept an eye on the hospital to be sure none journalists come bother you. Bruce said like he explains a plan to the Justice League or a project to the board of the Wayne Company. We will make sure the story of your coming back to the family will be legal, you will be …

-No.

-What?

-I will not coming back to the family. It is out of question. Forget about it.

-Why? It will be simpler.

-No it wouldn’t be. Roy and I are both omega. In the United State, an alpha from our packs can easily found a judge who you agree to entrust our children with him, withdrawing their guard. So no, there is no way I accept you as legally my alpha.

-Oliver Queen is Roy’s alpha. I know you let him babysitting Lian. Bruce said trying to understand Jason’s refusal

-We made him sign paper abandonment of kinship on our children. Roy and him discuss about a compromise if he wanted part of Roy’s life, part of our children’s life. He didn’t appear in our life like he own the place clamming to anyone that Roy is his omega!

-But … Jason … Bruce said dazed, you don’t believe I want take you your child, do you?

-I think you can do anything if you're sure you're right.”

Bruce can’t believe he really hear that. But Jason’s scent smell distrust and he keeps his arms protecting his belly and he fold up his leg against him.

Bruce knows how to control his smell but this time he can’t hide on distress he feels.

“I knew … Of course I knew even before you … before you go to Ethiopia that our relationship wasn’t … perfect. Why would you have run away otherwise if you were happy at the Manor? But I … I always that you knew … Since I found you in Crime Alley the only think I wish for you was to be happy and wealthy. That the only thing I want for you. Do you trust me?”

Jason looks deeply at Bruce trying to read his mind. He believes that Bruce was honest here with him. When he died, he didn’t doubt that Bruce loved him. Even after his bloody coming back, even after all their argument, he still believes it.

But he also believes that Bruce is a control freak, that he didn’t trust Jason’s choice. And he’s ready to anything if he though he has right.

“No. Jason realizes. I don’t trust you. Whether you find a story explain why Brucie Wayne though that Jason Johnson is his son, which he isn’t, and you can still be part of my life, whether you leave.

-Jason, let me think about that.

-What do you have to though?”

Bruce stays silent while Jason observes him with a frown. After a while, Jason said astonished:

“You will not even propose to sign the paper?

-Of course not. Bruce answers honestly. I can’t sign this.

-I can’t believe you.”

Suddenly, Bruce realizes that Jason has tested him, and for now, he fails the test. But if Jason could listen to him, he will understand why Bruce is right.

“Jason, you have to think about what will happen to your children if Roy and you died.

-What?

-If Oliver and I sign this paper, when after your death your children will be put on the system. You have no more parents beside us.

-Because you think that this time, you will survive us?

-Jason …

-And you have the pretension to believe Roy and I want you to have custody of our children?

-They will be my family. Bruce argues. I am wealthy…

-You’re a control freak and you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon! You’re really thought we want our children alone in your gloomy manor with only Alfred as company?

-It was not so awful when I took care of you, was it?

-Look at all your children. Have you really no idea how you make us feel?

-Jason, do you really prefer your children put on the system rather than with me? Bruce asks judgmental

-Of course they will not put on the system. We will choose a guardian. You know what? I don’t have talk to you about that. Just … just leave. Jason whispers tired

-Ok … Ok.”

Bruce raises his hand to stroke Jason’s hair but he moves his head so Bruce can’t touch him.

“Don’t come back.”

Bruce didn’t insist and disappears.

~*~

After that, Jason was unable to sleep again. He was tetanized that abruptly someone will come force him to abandon his child after their birth. Roy seems like he has forgiven him for putting them in a dangerous situation, like he agree that Jason stay in their life. He doesn’t want judgmental Bruce to interfere.

When the nurse comes take his blood pressure, they almost suffocate in his frightened and vulnerable scent.

“What’s going on? Are you in pain somewhere?” They asks gently

Jason shakes his head.

“I just … Shit … Sorry …

-First pregnancy?”

Jason nods miserably.

“Don’t worry. It is pretty normal you feel like shit during all your pregnancy. Sometimes for nothing.

-I wish I knew that.

-That’s ok. Do you need more blanket? A phone to call someone?

-My mate will come today with some of my stuff. I will be good until now.

-Ok. In the meantime don’t hesitate watch the TV.

-Thanks.”

Jason watches a random TV channel trying to calm him vainly.

When finally Roy and Lian visit him, he starts to relax. Lian jumps on his bed crying.

“Jayjay! She screams hug him

-Hey Sweetheart. Shh. Everything will be alright.”

Roy put Jason’s things before kiss him and murmur him:

“I have your books, your phone and PC.

-Thank you.

-Why are you in a hospital? Lian asks

-Just a too little problem with the baby. Nothing’s too bad.

-So you come back to home with us?

-Not today. The doctor wants to be sure the baby will be ok.

-Jayjay may stay here for all the pregnancy. Roy adds

-What? That’s not good!”

Roy and Jason smile at her tenderly while hugging her.

“Everything will be alright. Roy said as much for Lian than for Jason. While you and I will have fun in Gotham. Jayjay could studies peacefully for his test.

-F… Fudge! Jason realizes. My test! I have to go to the college to pass them.

-No, I call them and they say with a sicknote you could have a permission to pass them by correspondence.

-You already call them? Jason asks amazed

-Of course. Well the jet lag helps. It was afternoon for them.

-Thanks Roy. I love you.

-I love you too.”

They kiss tenderly while Lian still hug Jason, rubbing her head on Jason’s scent gland. Jason and Roy discuss about Bruce’s visit via their phone for not disturb more Lian.

If Lian finally calm down with one of her coloring book, Roy was visibly angry with each sentence Jason send him.

“I can’t believe him. Roy sends

-I can.

-We will find a way not let him prevail on our life. Ok?

-Ok.”

They smile to each other before Lian shows them her drawing.

“That’s beautiful, Pumpkins.

-Very lovely.

-Thank you. She said proudly

-Before I forget, Roy said, Dinah and Oliver want know if they can come visit you. Do you want see them?

-They want see me?

-Of course. I explain the situation to Dinah when I was recovering Lian, so they are worried now.

-That’s nice of them. Yes. They can come if they really want.

-Didi and Ollie come? When?” Lian asks with bright eyes

Oliver was still pretty uncomfortable with them and make up by brings gifts for Lian every time he comes visit them. And Lian noticed the pattern.

“Don’t know yet. Maybe this week.

-Cool.” She smiles

~*~

The doctor comes to Jason’s room to know how he feels and to inform him that she wants him have some test like ultrasound to monitor evolution of the hematoma.

“What’s a hematoma? Lian asks curiously

-It is a thick mass of blood anywhere in the body resulting from an injury or blood disorder. Doctor Armstrong answers without thinking

-Is that a bad thing? She starts to panic

-No. Roy said immediately. Do you remember when you hurt your knee when you fall there is two days? You had a hematoma and it wasn’t too bad, was it?

-The doctor is just being mindful because the baby need more attention.” That’s all. Jason adds

Lian look at her parents suspiciously before looking at the doctor. Doctor Armstrong looks unsettled to have this little girl focuses on her.

“That’s true.” She just said

Lian finally nods happily by that answer and let the nurses bring Jason to do the first test without a groan.

It was the first time Lian assist to an ultrasound and she was more impressed by the sticky substance on Jason’s belly than the blurring picture of the baby.

“Do you know their gender? One of the nurses asks. Do you want to know?

-No thanks. We want that to be a surprise.”

Good news is the hematoma doesn’t seem to grow up but the bad news is it doesn’t to seem to heal either. The next weeks could bring more information.

When they come back to the room, they were surprise that they were expected.

“Littlewing! Dick exclaims. Are you and your baby alright?

-I am sorry, sirs. Doctor Armstrong said to Dick and Tim. But I don’t remember that you allowed for visits.

-That’s alright, Doctor. Jason said surprising everyone. They can stay.

-Ok. I will let you for now. Don’t hesitate call me or a nurse if you need anything.” The doctor said before leave them.

Without letting time to the adults said a world, Lian asks:

“Who are you?

-That’s true you were so little last time I saw you. Dick answer sadly

-I know you? Lian insist

-Well, Roy said, Dick and I were best friend when you were a baby. He was babysitting you sometimes.

-Why did I saw you no more now?

-Life happens. Dick simply answer embarrassed

-I am just Dick’s brother.” Tim said when Lian look at him

After all was clear, Lian was relaxed, even if the adults weren’t, and say nothing when Dick and Tim sat on Jason’s bed.

“So, Dick said, how are you feeling Littlewing?

-I am fine. He answers looking insistently at Lian then at Dick, hoping he will understand they can’t talk about everything with her here

-Good. Did you have anything you need? Can you bring you something?

-No, we’re good. Jason said showing his books

-Oh! Did you pursuit your studies? Dick asks when showing the titles

-Lian, sweetheart, Jason tells her, can you get me a juice, please?”

Lian pouts but when Jason insists she obeys.

“Are you sure? Roy asks

-Yeah.

-Ok.” Roy kiss Jason before exist the room with Lian, letting the three ex-Robin alone

Suddenly, Dick loses his smile and Jason doesn’t hide anymore his anger at them. Only Tim stays calm.

“What the fuck were you think, Jason? Dick attacks immediately. You are pregnant! Why the fuck were you in this storage? You … you almost lost your child! God… We almost lost you … again … Why?

-Alfred calls me … What was I suppose do?

-Not come! We try contact you I don’t know many time the last past month, and you never answer…

-It is Lian who pick up my phone.”

Jason does not know why, but he cannot help but put himself on the defensive. Maybe he should not have let Roy go.

Dick looks at him astonished before he laughs.

“Oh man, this is so absurd.

-Shut up Dickhead! Jason groans. Replacement, maybe you have something else to say?

-Stephanie want you to know that she is deeply sorry and, she hope you will agree she comes visit you when she will feel better.”

Jason feels stupid now, he didn’t expect that.

“She has nothing to apologize for. Nothing was her fault.

-And thank you. Tim adds. Without you, we couldn’t have found her.

-Tim! Dick yells visibly angry

-It is true.

-What the fuck are you doing? Playing Bad cops, Good cops? You suck.

-We’re not play. Dick grumbles. Tim should say that.

-That’s true. Tim argues

-Please! Just stop. Why are you here? For real.

-Pass Stephanie’s message and make sure you’re alright.

-So, are you and your baby alright?

-Well, I may lose my baby, Jason answer bitterly hopping to offend them; the doctor can’t guarantee that my pregnancy will end well. And even if it did, Bruce will take my baby. So no, I am not alright. Are you happy now?”

Jason breathes loudly. He doesn’t want cry in front of Tim and Dick, especially with Lian who can enter in his room at any moment.

“What? Of course no!

-What do you mean Bruce will take your kid?

-What do you think that will happen now that the press knows he tells to the hospital I am his son? And he didn’t want deny or sign the papers.

-Which papers?”

When they hear Roy talk more loudly than necessary in front of the door, they stop the conversation immediately.

“Tadam! Lian exclaims showing all the different juices in her arms

-All of that just for me? Jason said exaggeratedly excited

-Everything is alright? Roy asks while Lian nods vigorously

-Yeah. They were leaving. Jason answers without looking at them, only smiling to Lian

-Yeah, we will leave you. Dick confirms. See you soon. And don’t worry Littlewing, everything will be alright, ok?

-Yeah sure. See you soon.

-For Steph, can she come see you? Tim asks

-If she doesn’t have much more interesting things to do.

-Ok. See ya.

-See ya.”

When they were alone, Lian seat on Jason’s bed and babble about all the juice she brings to him.

“You’re the perfect daughter. Jason praises her. There is everything I love. Thank you so much, Pumpkins.”

Roy kisses lovingly Jason while Lian place the juice box on the Jason’s shelf.

“Is everything alright? Roy asks him

-Yeah. It was just some tiring hours.

-Hey. I love you.

-I love you too.”

~*~

The rest of the day was happier. All the tests making by the doctor shows that for now the baby was healthy. Lian was loving against Jason during all the during of the visit, groans to everyone who could perturb their tranquility.

They can’t be sure until she will be a teenager, but she acts more and more like an alpha kid.

Roy keeps talking about how the moving was going on. Since Jason has letting some furniture and that he was paying someone to clean up once in two weeks, Roy and Lian don’t have much to do.

They have still some things they have to tidy and some decoration to change so that can really feel like home.

“I took one of your safe house where there are three bedrooms. In case, we have to stay in Gotham after the birth.

-Fu … Fudge I hope not.

-So, I was thinking about decorate the room for the future baby. Which color would you like?

-Purple! Lian exclaims

-Purple will be your room, Pumpkins. Roy smiles

-Purple is the best color. All the rooms should be purple. She retorts

-Maybe not all the rooms. I like my kitchen the way it is. Jason laughs

-So, for the baby’s room…

-Roy, we might not bring them at home. Jason interrupts him. You shouldn’t waste your time with that.

-It wouldn’t be a waste of time. Look, you’re fine. The baby is fine.

-Roy, I don’t want talk about that now.

-Ok. Roy finally said despite wanting insist

-Thank you.”

Roy kisses him instead of answering him. He understands that Jason doesn’t want hopping too much but Roy can’t believe that they will lose their child.

He feels them move each time he puts his hands on Jason’s belly. That’s can be only the proof that they are alive and want to birth. They have to be ready to welcome them in their family. The child cannot believe that they weren’t wanted.

~*~

Later this week, one hour later after Roy and Lian go out to eat, Oliver and Dinah arrive to visit him. Oliver pushes two caddies full of presents.

“What the fuck is all of that? Jason yells shocked

-I promise I tried to stop him. Dinah tries to defend herself. But there were so many cute things in the stores!”

She kisses his cheek with a big smile.

“When I though people think you’re here to stop me. Olivier said before puts awkwardly his hand on Jason’s shoulder. This one is for Lian and the other for the baby.

-Oh … Roy didn’t tell you … we may …

-He told us everything. Dinah ensure him

-So why did you …? You may waste your money.

-That’s not a waste.

-Roy talks to you about the baby’s room too. Jason said narrowed his eyes. Are you here for that?

-First, we’re here for you. To know how you are feeling.

-You’re totally here for that. Why will you arrive when Roy and Lian aren’t here otherwise?

-Well, Oliver said, because of another discussion I had.

-With who?

-With Bruce. Oliver finally admit when Dinah gets away from Jason’s bed so he doesn’t feel surround

-What?

-He comes to our house. Oliver explains. He learns about the fact that I sign this paper to guarantee for you and Roy I will never do anything to take away your children. And the fact that you want him signs it too.

-I told him. Jason admits. So what? Do you agree with him? Is for that you don’t want Roy here?

-God no, I don’t agree with him.

-Why are you here talking about that then?

-Because Bruce come on alpha bullshit mode and he makes me promise to try change your mind. You know how he can get.”

Jason loves when an alpha recognizes that “alpha bullshit mode” exist and use it to describe an alpha comportment. Especially Bruce’s comportment.

“So, are you sure you don’t want Bruce raise your children if an unfortunate event happen to you and Roy?

-I am positively sure.

-Cool. Good talk.

-Now that is over. Dinah exclaims. Let’s eat the cake.

-You bring a cake?

-Big enough to be sure Roy and Lian will have a piece when they will come back. So eat.

-That’s too is alpha bullshit. Jason said jokingly taking the spoon Dinah gives him. Try to force a pregnant omega to eat. But it is my favorite cake so I will let it pass.

-Too kind of you.” Dinah laughs

Lian was ecstatic when she saw the presents and the cake. She hugs Dinah and Oliver telling them they were the best grandparent ever.

After that Oliver ensures them that they have his support, that he will help him as much as he can with Bruce and the press.

“Talking about support, Oliver said with Lian on his knees playing with the little car that was brought to her, this room is too small and the hospital lacks of means…

-Please Oliver, no. Roy groans

-What I can say is Jason and our baby will be more comfortable if you let me pay you a better room. One with a bigger bed, a better bathroom maybe with a bathtub.

-Oh, I love that idea. Jason said. But we don’t need your money neither take more place that you could be more useful for someone else.

-If I give them enough money so they can reopen an aisle, you will not take too much place.

-Ok this is too much. Jason laughs

-But not a bad idea.

-Roy!

-What? Don’t you want this hospital have a new aisle?

-Why did I become the bad guy now?

-You should just accept Jaybird.”

~*~

During this month, members of the hospital were nicer with Jason. Not only because of Oliver’s donation, but also because a second anonymous donation was made. Certainly Bruce. Jason doesn’t know if he does that because it is the only he found to show that he cares or because he was annoyed that Oliver make a donation in his city.

The doctor Armstrong admits that she wasn’t worry anymore about his baby’s health and if Jason want he could go back home. But the administrator doesn’t want him go because they fear lose the donation.

Jason hesitates many days but finally decide he was safer if he stay at the hospital. The cost wasn’t a problem and in case something wrong happen, the doctors and nurses could help him quickly.

The Batfamily and the Arrowfamily keep visit him. Even Bruce, at the night when he thinks Jason sleep.

Maybe Jason should admit that he was wake up, but it was easy ignore him the night and thinking about which decoration putting in the baby’s room in the day.

But when a photograph takes a nth photo of him in his hospital bed, he have to put an end to all of this.

So when Bruce enters to his room at midnight, Jason seat and said:

“That need to stop.

-I know you tell me not come back …

-But you still do it. And you dare ask me if I trust you for not taking my children.

-Jason …

-No. You will shut up and listen to me. You will deny your stupid declaration about me being your son …

-You’re my son.

-No. And don’t interrupt me again. You will deny your stupid declaration. And maybe, maybe I will let you saw them. But, if you stay stubborn about that, well ok I will be “your son”. Then you can be sure I will sue you.

-What are you …?

-I will accuse you to try illegally incorporating me in your pack. Look at me; I am a poor pregnant distress omega, while you’re a rich, powerful, arrogant alpha. I will make sure the trial will never end. That the investigation has to put in the light all your secret. The medical file of all your children. The anomaly about how you use some of your company’s benefice. If I have to I will recall that I wasn’t found in the same clothes I died. I will make sure everybody remember you were the only witness of my death. You, a playboy alpha you keep adopt young boy.

-You wouldn’t dare … Do you imagine in which situation it will put us?

-You know what you have to do.

-I will sign the paper. You win I will sign it. Please, Jason, I want …

-I don’t give a fuck about what you want! I am tired of giving a fuck about what you want!”

Jason feels pitiful when he can control his tears. He doesn’t want cry in front of Bruce. But he is so tired. He is always wanted his father to love him. He is always wanted to be a good son to him. But he can’t be happy if he worried every time about what Bruce may think of him. He can’t go forward with all the love, the bitterness he feels for Bruce. He had to let him go. He had to abandon who he was before his death. He has to focus on the family he creates with Roy.

“Let me go.”

He cries and keeps crying. He doesn’t even have enough strength when Bruce hugs him to push him. He hears Bruce crying too but he keeps begs him to let him go.

“Ok. Bruce finally said after a long moment. Ok. I will do what I have to do.”

For weeks he doesn’t have news from Bruce. Jason informs Roy about what happen. Roy wasn’t happy that Jason confronts him without him and was worried about Bruce’s reaction.

“Do you know what he will do? Roy asks him

-No. I have no idea.

-I will see him.

-Roy …

-I am a big boy Jason. If you can support Ollie, I can deal with Bruce. Just focus on your studies and the baby.”

Jason laughs.

“That’s so an alpha thing to say.”

That’s make Roy laughs too before they kiss.

“Everything will be alright.”

Jason doesn’t know exactly what Roy and Bruce said to each other. Roy just said him that Bruce seems exhausted and that he will make a press release this Friday. Bruce just to Roy that they all get what they want.

Jason hates waiting to know what Bruce decides. Can’t he tell him like any other normal human being?

Bruce Wayne was invited for the first day of the new art exposition at Gotham Museum. And if at first the question was only about the exposition, rapidly the journalists ask him about his declaration at the hospital.

Bruce inhale deeply before exhale.

“Despite the fact the topic of today is the new exposition, I will answer only once at your question. I will not repeat myself. Like you must know, I lost my second son, Jason Todd, when he was only fifteen years old. I never forget him. When a month ago, my older son, Richard Grayson, learning that the mate of his friend, Roy Harper, has difficulty during his pregnancy, I was there. When I heard an omega named Jason, who is the same age my son would be if he was alive, was distress on a hospital, I just … snap. I was convinced that this omega was my second son; I wished that this omega was my second son, because … I wanted to see my son grows up, happy, start a family. Roy Harper and Jason Johnson were kind enough to deal with my momentary snap despite the difficult moment they have to deal with it. By respect for them, I ask you to let them alone. That’s all. Thank you for your attention.”

Roy and Jason almost cry from relief. Finally, Bruce listens to what they want and take that in consideration. The press should let them alone after that. Maybe they will come back to divulge their baby’s gender but it won’t happen till three month.

The next time the doctor prints a photo from the ultrasound, Jason ask if he can have a second.

He put it on an envelope that he gives to Alfred for Bruce.

Moved by the gesture, Bruce isolates himself on his office to look at what Jason sends him. He was immediately smitten by this unborn child. By his first grandchild, he realizes even if Jason wouldn’t agree that Bruce doesn’t count Lian.

In the back of the photo, Jason writes his phone number with the following message:

“B,

Thank you. I know it must have been difficult for you. You’re welcome to visit them during the day if you would like that.

J”

After hesitate a few hours, Bruce finally screw up one’s courage and calls Jason.

“Hey. Yeah. Alfred gives it to me. Sound like they will have your eyes.”

They both laugh awkwardly before Bruce pursuit:

“If… if you still agree, I would like to … Yeah, tomorrow will be good. Just … Promise me that Ollie won’t be there.”

~*~

Jason was almost eight month pregnant; when Scarecrow decides terrorize Gotham with a new toxin. Obviously Jason didn’t help the Batfamily, but Roy did so Oliver and Dinah babysit Lian in Star City.

Jason was worried about Roy, but also about the baby. The members of the hospital were too much occupied that they could keep doing as much test to ensure his baby’s health that they used to.

Every time they bring him to the test and bring him back to his room, his bed was collide with others patients bed. It doesn’t help him to reassure him.

But the panic provokes by Scarecrow pass and nothing bad happen to Roy or the baby, so Jason relax.

He was reading one of his school book while Lian coloring in her book. He will have to pass his test next week and was getting nervous. For this reason, he doesn’t realize something is wrong.

He feels a sting pain in his stomach but it was almost midday, reason for tha Roy went to fetch them food.

He feels humidity in his legs but, and it was embarrassing, it’s happen that he was wetting for nothing.

He sights and raises his sheet. He freezes immediately.

There is blood. Too much blood.

#dc comics #jayroy #fanfic #jason todd #roy harper #lian harper #bruce wayne #oliver queen #dinah lance #dick grayson #tim drake

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deputysaint · 5 years

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gooooood evenin champs, today we’re going to be discussing something very, very important. well, a few things. so sit down, grab a snack, and let’s discuss a few things.

covered in this post: deacon saint’s problematic view of the world, a brief touching on the famed rodeo days and how they ruined him as a person, and then we’ll end this with a very brief tap into the relationships he has, most importantly the ships, and why deacon saint is a very complicated, self destructive man.

first off: it can’t rain all the time ( lul, crow references in 2019 ) deacon saint is an optimist, though i suppose that much is obvious by his actions. he believes in the good of people, that there are such things as redemption for all people. he believes in these things so strongly, that it is a problem. deacon saint doesn’t believe in monsters. what he believes in is that people can be broken, can be utterly destroyed and messed up, but that they can be fixed. he doesn’t believe that they can be fixed with love or anything worthy of a teenage-romance trope, but that with enough time and therapy they can be normal, or close enough to normal, to be functioning parts of society. deacon believes in the justice system, which is laughable considering how corrupt he knows it to be. he believes that justice will come at the hands of a jury, and that no one man can hold the weight of another in his palm and decide his fate. all of these are reasons why deacon will not kill, nor will he even consider it. he is a person who believes that good will always prevail in the world, no matter how dark and dreary it becomes in the meantime. it's dumb and gullible and probably his biggest weakness, but he believes it so wholeheartedly that it's hard to try to shut him down regarding it.

second: the real shit �� i joke about it a lot, but the time period between deacon leaving home, and returning at twenty-two, was probably the hardest time of his life. his mother had passed from cancer, and he felt so angry, so full of wrath, that he took it out on god by trying to burn his mother’s bible, and then his father when he tried to intervene. by the time he got picked up by a traveling rodeo circuit, he is a fucking hot mess. he’s angry, hurt and numb, all at the same time. that time span is probably the darkest years of his life, even compared to his time spent during the events of far cry 5. with no one really to guide him, deacon falls headfirst into every bad habit imaginable. he drinks, he smokes, he dabbles in pill abuse, and the worst of all of it is that it’s encouraged by everyone he’s around. he’s not the star of the circuit, but he’s enough of one where any and all warning signs are ignored in favor of him being an attraction for people to spend money to see and bet on. for a long five years, there are no consequences to anything he does, and while he is still a gentle spirit at heart, there are days where he is nothing like the deacon everyone now knows, where he is too-aggressive and uncaring and generally an asshole. this, of course, all changes when his big sister swoops in and drags him out ( literally ) by his ear. their father died heartbroken and alone, and she would be damned if she had to bury him alone too. it’s alma who whips deacon into shape after the passing of their father, though she probably didn’t need to. once he’s taken out of the environment he’d been in, one dominated by toxic masculinity and some strange hero worship, and thrown into his familiar, now empty home, it 180s his personality and behavior. he cleans himself up somewhere between the funeral and cleaning out the home they grew up in, and for the first time in a long time, deacon sees the world as it is. he goes straight. gets his ged. works all sorts of odd jobs for many years until he can’t anymore. when he’s 29, he decides to follow in the footsteps of his father, and a few months later, he get’s a job at the hope county sheriff’s office as a deputy.

third: the relationship section ( aka, the reason i imagine a lot of you are here ) deacon is... not entirely right in the head, that much should be obvious from a writer-to-writer standpoint. on the outside, he’s got everything together, he’s stable, he’s kind, he’s probably the nicest guy in hope county even before the events of the games. but he’s not right in his own head. he’s borderline self destructive, not in a way that’s obvious, not in a way that’s noticeable, but he is. deacon’s weakness are people who are also self destructive, but in a way that’s obvious and harmful. most of his relationships in the past, and my current ships, are with people who are messy and awful and need help desperately. now, he doesn’t believe in can fix them, that’s way beyond his imagination and he’s not a fucking idiot. he sees the wrong in them, the broken, sharp pieces of them that no one else is willing to touch, and he wants. and there’s no rhyme or reason for it anyway. he likes it. they’re messy and not-perfect and a part of him likes that, the unhealthiness of it all. and even with ships with deacon that are healthy upon first glance, there’s an undertone of not right to it all. he’s dependent, he’s a touch needy, and always there’s a strange touch of worship that he has for his partner that’s sometimes off putting.

he tries, he really does, but he’s a fucking mess.

#file notes. ( headcanons )#hello who wants a novel about my oc #nobody?#well you're getting it anyway

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eternityunicorn · 5 years

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Elijah’s Eternity Part Ten

Author: eternityunicorn

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Violence, Language, Smut (Smut marked +18)

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson didn’t know what to expect when he encountered the strange archer in the night, but he certainly didn’t think his whole world would be turned upside down by it. Yet, he quickly learns that she is more than what she seems, having come looking for an Original after a large spike in supernatural being populations started cropping up on Earth a thousand years ago. Now, he must help her decide if the supernatural community should stay on their home planet or leave it for good? A task that is made more complicated along the way, as his life is changed forever.

NOTE: OC is from my up and coming novel series. Other elements from said novel series also included.

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The walk to the Art Institute of Chicago was frankly quick. It was just located a couple of blocks away from the penthouse, not a long walk at all. Elijah walked with Eternity by his side, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm with her other hand resting on his bicep. It reminded him of their time in Maine, just a couple nights before.

They moved steadily toward their destination, while Elijah spoke of his few past adventure in the city. She smiled at his retelling, at the excitement he displayed whenever he would paint the imagery of the old landscape for her. She didn’t say much in reply, contented to simply listen to him speak.

His telling made the already short journey feel even shorter. It wasn’t long at all until they were climbing the steps of the Art Institute, recognizable by the green lions that stood guard on either side of the large stairway. Once inside, he took the lead in showing her around the place, having wanted to show her his favorite pieces and periods of art.

For a while, they simply wandered about, viewing this painting or that sculpture. He would tell her of his knowledge in each piece. Again, Eternity was content to let him tell her what he knew, seeming to absorb everything he said with high interest. She would comment here or there on what she had experienced in regards to the time periods each piece was from, but for the most part, she was just content to look and listen.

One of the exhibits of the institute was that of old Viking swords and shields. Here, he stared at each piece with a certain fondness. A lot of the items locked behind the glass had been apart of his life long ago. They generally reminded him of a time long since past - of home. He began talking about the construction of the swords and shields in a step by step fashion, becoming more animated as he went. He remembered these things like they had happened yesterday and not a thousand years ago.

Then Elijah started speaking on the symbols etched into the metal. On one of the hilts was a worn etching of Loki, the Trickster God of Asgard. All he had to do was mention the figure’s name for a dark look to cross Eternity’s face. It was similar to the ones he had seen before upon her lovely features.

She wasn’t looking at him, but at the sword he had mentioned. Her body was tense and it seemed like she was trying to light the old blade on fire with her stare. It didn’t light up, as he partially expected, which was good. It would be impossible to compel that many people into forgetting such a strange incident. Yet, he was concerned as to the cause of such a disturbed look. It didn’t settle well to see her upset.

“Eternity,” Elijah called to her, reaching to gently grab her arm.

The moment he touched her, she snapped out of it. She smiled shyly and laughed nervously at him. “Forgive me,” she whispered.

“Are you alright?”

“Aye. Just remembering...the past.”

With those words, Elijah was immediately more interested in her than the artifacts. “Explain.”

Eternity looked back at the sword with Loki on it, though this time her expression was light and animated, if not also a little sad. “Loki, along with all the figures of the old Norsemen’s religion, are real people,” she told him softly. “It is the same for some of the other mythologies too. Zeus, Hera, Hades. Anubis, Osiris, Isis. Odin, Thor...Loki. All of them are real.”

Elijah was taken aback by her words. So, there were gods amongst the immortals she spoke of. While he admitted he was surprised, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected to find out something of that nature from her. In fact, it made sense that some of the figures of human mythology would be real. But what puzzled him was why did the mention of Loki affect her so much?

“Loki and I have history,” Eternity answered his thoughts. “He killed my grandmother, who was the Universal Queen before the duty fell to me. They hated each other and so, Loki acted as he always does: with malicious intent, slaying her before should even defend herself.”

“So, you seek revenge for this crime,” surmised Elijah.

“No, not revenge,” she responded quickly. “I am a guardian. Revenge is not in my nature as a result. Though justice certainly needs to be fulfilled for his actions, but not with his death.”

Elijah didn’t understand. A man committed regicide and yet death wasn’t to be the automatic punishment for such a heinous crime? Maybe the laws were different for the immortals, he reasoned. Perhaps, they understood death was too swift a punishment and so, chose other methods to execute justice.

“You know, all those old Norsemen stories that you and your family grew up on were mostly complete fabrications,” smiled Eternity, changing the direction of their conversation.

He allowed it, figuring it was best for now. So, he smirked playfully, “Is that right?”

“Aye, it is,” she nodded. “Odin, Loki, and Thor used to come here to Earth, to tell tales of their godhoods to the poor naive humans. Odin was especially full of himself when he spoke of how he created the universe and life itself to the humans. Of course, it never happened. Odin is not a creator god or any sort of god for that matter. He, like all immortals of light, are fallible creatures with only a higher calling of guardianship. Yet, he and many others, still like to think themselves gods toward those they deem lesser than; humanity being number one in that.”

“They sound delightful.”

“They are quite ridiculous. A little pathetic as well.”

Seeing how indignant she was becoming, Elijah observed, “You’re very impassioned by this distasteful attitude of your fellow immortals.”

With deadly seriousness, Eternity replied, “When they think themselves above others, you’re damned right I’m impassioned by their distasteful attitudes. Nobody is better than anyone else. No matter their station in the greater scheme of the universes.”

Elijah was impressed by the fierceness in her, in that moment. Her sapphire eyes were unyielding and intense with a noble sense of compassion for others, particularly in regard to those weaker. It was beautiful to see light in someone nonhuman like him. He had lived in darkness for so long, hoping to see light shine in on his world. Now, here she was doing just that with her value of others, of the innocent. His heart swelled for her and before he knew it, he was cupping her cheek and pulling her close. He kissed her passionately.

Though a little surprised at first, she reciprocated eagerly, curling her hands up into his hair tenderly as she did.

Elijah didn’t know how long they stood there wrapped up in each other, but by the time they parted, both of them were absolutely breathless. He took the opportunity to whisk them away to another area of the institute, holding her hand in his the whole way.

“You know, I’ve spent the past thousand years doing as I pleased,” he found himself telling her as they went. “Justice for the Mikaelson Family has always been based on self-preservation or selfish pursuits, including killing those that dare oppose us, humans included. Niklaus is the most ruthless of us, but we’ve all killed, maimed, tortured whenever it suited us. Even I’m not excluded from such...darkness.”

“I know,” Eternity said. “The darkness is powerful. It is easy to give into it, to let your darker nature prevail, especially when you have a brother who is a master of it; of fear, or control, of revenge. Live like that long enough and it’s difficult to live any other way, even if you wish it. But there is always light, even in you, Elijah - in Niklaus. If you can find it, then you can be different, better.”

“Maybe I just don’t believe that,” he smiled humorlessly.

“Perhaps it is simply something you have to discover on your own,” she countered, “but in the meantime, may I suggest you consider this: would I be here with you, if you were such a monster? If you are not capable of more?”

Elijah gazed at her profoundly, considering her words, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned back to the tour of the Art Institute, trying to turn their outing back to a happier tone.

Soon, they reached the Far East exhibit and Eternity was enthralled by the art there, as she gazed at some old Japanese artworks from the Feudal Era. Their previous talk had been abandoned for the time being.

“My family is from Japan,” Eternity informed him casually with a fond smile. “They lived in the region before the Great War. We’ve adapted many of the customs and whatnot from our ancestral home on Earth.”

Elijah looked surprised, “Really?”

“I also have a different cousin from the one I mentioned before,” she said, “whom still lives there. She runs a small shrine and tends to the wounded and sick mortals who wander into her forest. Though it’s technically illegal, she does also revive people from the dead, but usually only children. However, that should always be an exception to the rule.”

“I’ve been to Japan, years ago, and now that you mention it, I do recall hearing about a mystical shrine that performed miracles,” admitted Elijah, after some thought. “I thought it was utter nonsense, as many tales like those are. I suppose I shouldn’t have been so hasty in dismissing the stories.”

“Perhaps, it’s for the best that you did dismiss them,” Eternity replied. “Kaname wouldn’t take kindly to a vampire entering her woods. Not even one that meant no harm. Dark creatures are simply not allowed there.”

Elijah couldn’t take offense to that. It was true, he was a dark creature; a being created with dark magic. No doubt, her cousin had the same purpose in life as Eternity did; to protect others from the darkness.

With that thought, he began to wonder why Eternity was with him? He was a being of darkness, and she was one of light. They shouldn’t be together. She shouldn’t want to be with him. Yes, they had an arrangement, a temporary partnership. But it was more than that. She had allowed more and in a short amount of time. Eternity was right by his side, as his lover - a companion. He didn’t understand it. Yet, he wanted nothing else than her by his side. He believed she felt the same way.

“I’m with you because I like what I see in you,” Eternity told him, reading his thoughts again. “You are a complex man, to be sure. You are fiercely devoted to your family. You care about their well-beings over all others, a noble cause. Of course, you’ll commit whatever terrible sin you must to protect your family and that can lead to terrible deeds. But I can see that you are capable of love and compassion and forgiveness, qualities that are of light, qualities that I can appreciate, despite your flaws.”

Elijah gave a small smile, reaching out to touch her cheek tenderly in appreciation, before moving on.

From there, they explored other parts of the institute, their conversations resuming their lightness. Eventually, they reached the food court and decided to take a break from their wanderings. There were others around, families and couples alike, getting food or sitting about conversing. The voices echoed in the vaulted room, making each conversation blend in with the others.

Elijah bought lunch for them and they sat together, at the outside seating with big green umbrellas at every table, where it was much quieter. He had ordered a couple cold sandwiches and juices for them to enjoy; though in truth, Eternity enjoyed the food more than he. He wasn’t exactly fond of the low quality rubbish that the institute provided.

“Human food is amazing,” Eternity hummed appreciatively. “Their cuisines are so much better than most of the immortal worlds.”

“Is that right?” He replied, amused by the way she vigorously scarfed down the subpar ham sandwich as any ordinary person might. “I would think that theirs would be the superior cuisine.”

She scrunched her nose at him, “No, it’s not. It’s because most immortal food is produced through magic. The magic makes any food created from it taste artificial, stale even. It’s not appetizing in the least, believe me.”

“Is that why you come here to this world? To have decent food?”

“One of the reasons, yes.”

He chuckled humorously.

Before anything else could be said, the loud sound of gunshots rang out into to the air. The sound had alerted Eternity, especially when many screams accompanied the continuous sound of firing guns. Elijah was mildly curious about it, but he didn’t get involved with the affairs of humans. Human matters were of no concern to him, an Original. Though from what he knew, he could surmise that it was either a robbery going wrong or a crazed madman going on a rampage.

“It’s coming from outside the institute,” Eternity informed him needlessly, getting up swiftly.

“So it is,” replied Elijah with slight disinterest.

She didn’t seem bothered by his reaction. In fact, she looked understanding of it. “Normally, I don’t get involved in human affairs either,” she said hurriedly, ‘but that’s mostly because I’m not around to be involved. I’d like to see what I can do to help. I simply cannot abide by any innocent getting hurt.”

Of course, she couldn’t.

Elijah sighed, “Well, perhaps if we go to the roof, we can see what we can do without letting the entire city know about us. I do like to maintain a low profile.”

“Just what I was thinking. Shall we?”

“As my lady wishes.”

With vampire speed, Elijah got them up to the roof of the institute. They moved to a spot where they could observe whatever was going on down below without notice. From their vantage point, Elijah could see a dozen police surrounding their suspect who had a hostage in his grasp - a gun pointed to the young woman’s head. From the looks of things, it also looked like a couple of people were wonder, bleeding on the ground. The smell of human blood was strong. It was good that Eternity’s blood was still sustaining him or else he wouldn’t have been able to remain so composed.

The scene was full of onlookers and rescue teams. There wasn’t any way from him to do anything with so many witnesses. It was lucky for the humans that they happened to had a goddess watching over them in Eternity.

She swiftly assessed the situation. “The gunman is being controlled,” she observed. “I sense weak human magic - a dark variety of it.”

“A witch.”

“Aye.”

“Well, what do you suppose we do?” He asked, finally becoming interested in the situation, but only because one from the supernatural community was involved.

Eternity smiled, “I got this.”

Instantly, her outfit shifted into the corset and leather legging ensemble she always wore when going into battle. In her hands, her yumi bow and a single arrow already notched there appeared. The arrow head glowed bright blue like her horn did when she was a unicorn. She took aim at the possessed madman and let the arrow fly.

To Elijah’s surprise, the arrow wasn’t meant to wound the man, but instead landed at his feet. Immediately, the blue light waffled up into blue vapors that swirled around the human. The gunman ceased holding the gun at the woman in his grasp and he slowly released her in a hypnotized sort of way. Within moments, he swayed and then collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“The spell has been broken,” Eternity informed Elijah.

It seemed to be true. The gunman recovered from his fall and began looking around him in confused horror, wondering what was going on. Then the realization hit and the man panicked, screaming that he wasn’t responsible for the crime, just as the police were moving in to subdue him. He begged and pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

“He’s a pawn,” observed Eternity, as the gunman was being carried off into the awaiting police car. “The lover of a vampire is he, but he doesn’t know that his lover is of supernatural origin.”

“This vampire probably angered a witch and the witch sought revenge through the human,” supplied Elijah. “I wonder if he or she is a member of the local vampire clan.”

“You refer to the one we’re to meet.”

“Yes. That very one.”

Eternity’s outfit shifted back into the lovely lavender dress from before. Her bow vanished as she changed as well. “Now I’m even more intrigued to meet this clan.”

Elijah held out his hand to her then, “Yes, so am I.”

She took his hand without hesitation. The two of them headed down off the roof. Their exploration of the institute was over. Though the tour of the city was still on the agenda. There were other places that Elijah knew she would find interesting.

They spent the rest of the day, going around the city, with Elijah telling her of the history, of his own personal experiences there. He also took her to the shops around town, letting her explore the human world at close range. The people they passed all stopped to stare in awe of Eternity. Some were curious and others were wary. Children were the most amusing in their admiration. They would stop and look with wide eyes and excitement. It was as if they could see what she really was, despite her human visage. Maybe they could. Either way, it was fascinating to see.

Eventually, the evening set in and Elijah took Eternity to a high end Italian restaurant, where they were served the best wine and far better food than that of the Art Institute’s food court. They sat and talked about a variety of things, nothing of great importance. It was just light talk, the same as it had been since earlier in the day. There was nothing but enjoyment in each other’s company.

Then just as they were leaving the restaurant, Elijah felt the hunger stir inside him for the first time since he had tasted Eternity’s blood. Outside, he told Eternity, “I must feed.”

Eternity nodded understandingly, taking Elijah by his hand and leading him away toward the back of the building. Once they were concealed in shadows, she turned to him and said, “Feed on me.”

He didn’t hesitate this time. He pulled Eternity to him, embracing her tightly in one arm, while the hand of the other reached up to trace the column of her neck tantalizingly. He could feel the blood coursing through her beneath his fingertips, it caused the excitement of the feed to course at a greater pace through his own body.

Without waiting another moment, Elijah descended up Eternity. His mouth traced open mouth kisses to her skin, his tongue reaching out to taste the soft flesh. He felt her sigh and relax against him, just before he let his vampire teeth sink into her neck.

She gasped and tensed, but only for a moment, relaxing against him again almost immediately. She clutched him to her, a hand cupping the back of his head tenderly, while he pulled the blood from her. She moaned deliciously, the sound driving him. As before, the taste of her was exquisite and it warmed him to that same higher degree, making him feel far stronger and completely sated than any human could.

When Elijah eventually pulled away and looked down at the woman in his arms, Eternity had that glazed, flushed look about her again, giving the impression of drunkenness. “That was amazing,” she sighed contently.

He grinned down at her, “You seem to enjoy my feeding on you.”

“I do,” she replied without hesitation. She smiled widely, while still clinging to him.

Elijah chuckled, keeping his arm securely around her to keep her from falling. She simply didn’t seem to be able to support herself. “Come on, Sweetheart, let’s get you home. We can rest there until it’s time to meet with my acquaintance.”

Eternity nodded. She let him guide her out of the shadows and back out into the open. Together, they headed home to wait for the midnight hour to strike and their meeting with the vampire clan to commence. Little did Elijah know, what adventure awaited them when they arrived there.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #ocs #my ocs #romance #adventure #love story

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soundsof71 · 7 years

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DAVID CASSIDY & THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY MEET RICHARD PRYOR, LOUIS GOSSETT JR, and “THE BLACK PANTHERS” in “SOUL CLUB” (aired January 29, 1971)

Sure, The Partridge Family was a single-camera comedy with a laugh track, mostly aimed at kids, a barely plausible framework on which to hang some flimsy pop songs -- but it never shied away from a variety of social issues, including women's rights and racial justice. My favorite episode was "Soul Club", which first aired in January 1971. It featured one of the show's better songs, "Bandala", and a few other things that merit some additional context.

"Soul Club” also featured RICHARD PRYOR and LOU GOSSETT (as he was credited)!! It was in fact a back-door pilot intended to kick off a series with the two of them that sadly never came to pass.

Gaze upon Richard and Lou, and think about ABC trying to launch a sitcom for them out of The Partridge Family. Yikes! I’m sorry we never got to see that, but I’m glad we got to see this.

The pair played brothers who had intended to book The Temptations into their inner city Detroit social club (the titular “Soul Club”), only to have the white, white, oh so white, Partridge Family roll up instead. The Temptations concert had been the brothers’ last hope to save their club. They’d gotten in deep to a loan shark, and were counting on The Temptations to deliver a big payday.

It was immediately apparent that the Partridges weren’t going to be able to help them – ah, until they actually DID help. Heartwarming hilarity ensued as the Partridges played a street fair benefit show.

Along the way to saving the day (which they did), Danny Partridge is made an honorary member of "The Afro-American Cultural Society,” a thinly-veiled and highly favorable representation of the Black Panthers.

In fact, when you look this episode up yourself – and you should – many accounts report that the episode DID feature the Black Panthers. (For a start, try Googling “Partridge Family Black Panthers.”)

(Danny Partridge welcomed into “The Afro-American Cultural Society” as Richard Pryor and Louis Gossett Jr look on.)

Even without the actual Black Panthers, a number of scholarly sources have nevertheless cited the “Soul Club” episode as a pivotal moment in American cultural history. That part is absolutely true. This was among the first wholly positive depictions of militant black pride in mainstream media, maybe even the first, and it was A Big Deal.

After all, these were days when J. Edgar Hoover denounced the Black Panther Free Breakfast Program as “the greatest threat to the internal security of the United States of America” – not the Black Panthers in general, but free breakfast in particular.

The Partridge Family, instead, literally normalized the idea of people of color being PEOPLE – parents, kids, volunteer firefighters, musicians – who were politically engaged in improving their communities, a much different picture than the prevailing stereotype of communities of color as bomb-throwers bent on race war.

I didn’t need the perspective of history to tell me that this was a big deal. Watching on that Friday night in 1971, I could FEEL that it was a big deal.

Don’t forget that Soul Train was still 9 months away from national syndication, and there were few shows on TV at the time featuring any characters of color. There were two black leads on Room 222 airing the same night as The Partridge Family, plus Flip Wilson’s variety show, and on a weekly basis, that was about it for people of color making regularly scheduled appearances on prime time American television in 1971.

As a result, this may have been the largest collection of black people that most of white America had ever seen in one place, and they were dancing. And trying to improve their community, and otherwise, going about their day’s business. Maybe we didn’t need the FBI crawling all over these communities like we’d been told. Maybe, thought white Americans like me, just maybe, it was enough to support them where we could, and otherwise just let them be, because they’re just trying to make a better life for themselves, same as me. Their advancement is certainly not at my expense.This was a radical, radical concept at the time. Kinda still is. Again.

And how’s this for radical? A Black family and a white family sharing a meal. Look, I was living in the South when this aired, and yeah, I do want to emphasize the thing that lots of southerners do, that your image of how racism works in practice there probably needs refinement, but I definitely remembered being shocked when we moved there in the mid-60s and seeing “Whites Only” signs on not just water fountains and restaurants, but public swimming pools, doctors offices, and all kinds of other places.

The signs were gone by 1971, but the side-by-side drinking fountains and other very visible vestiges of the seriously segregated 60s were still standing. There were LOTS of segments of public life that, in practice, were very much segregated. Black and white families eating elbow to elbow at the same table was something that much of America had never seen, much less experienced. And maybe still haven’t experienced.

None of which would matter in the context of a show about a singing musical family if there wasn’t a great song somewhere in there.

And there is: “Bandala,” one of the best in the show’s entire run. Kind of a kick – members of the Afro-American Cultural Society are shown serving as the song’s string and horn sections! This might have been the only time in the show’s run that it acknowledged that the plethora of sounds that we’re hearing couldn’t possibly have been coming only from the Partridges themselves.

(Music nerd note: the actual sounds of The Partridge Family’s instruments provided courtesy of The Wrecking Crew! Most often in the form of Hal Blaine on drums, Joe Osborn on bass, and Larry Knechtel on keyboards, including the glorious harpsichord on the Partridges’ ur-hits “I Think I Love You” and “C’mon Get Happy”.) Wait for Pryor and Gossett to show up around the 2-minute mark in this clip, “giving five” to each other in a variety of creative ways, some involving hip bumps. Yes indeed, friends. Hip bumps.

There are obviously far more than the usual number of nits to pick with an episode like this, but that’s for another time. (Or for your replies. Feel free. It is problematic, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t also a cultural watershed of its era.)

In the meantime, I hope you can enjoy the clip above for what it is, a terrific David Cassidy vocal on a nifty pop tune, with some endearing moments in the episode as a whole, featuring a colossal missed opportunity for Pryor & Gossett, but its very ambitious heart in the right place.

#david cassidy #david cassidy rip #the partridge family #black panthers #1971 #richard pryor #1971 music #soul club #music on tv #music on tv 1971 #the wrecking crew

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stormyfayethechristianrunaway · 4 years

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Stormy Faye The Christian Runaway Reposted from @mckinneyhammond I know it is a rare moment but I am actually speechless. I keep asking myself what year are we in? I must be naive to believe that we can all occupy this planet peacefully, having reverence for God and all He has created including other people. But no that doesn’t seem to be the case. Today we have cell phones to capture all the horrible things people do to one another. But what of all the uncaptured scenes? God is watching people and though He doesn’t seem to respond or act as quickly as we would like Him to His Justice will ultimately prevail. God have mercy on us all. Those who sin violently against others out of pure venom, ignorance and fear. Those who remain silent in the face of wrong. And those who fuel the fire. Stirring it up and releasing the spirit of hatred and division. God is watching people and He will not be mocked. I don’t know what His judgement will look like but I believe that no one really gets away with anything. As they say wait for it... But in the meantime we cannot stand idly by. Evil flourishes when good men do nothing. Don’t be afraid of the difficult dialogues. Walk in love but also walk in wisdom and never ever say it’s alright to mistreat others. Don’t just take photos or videos... help! Demand better from those in charge without relenting. Action is required. There has been a lot of talking but to what end? People will grow tired of talking. I fear the silence because I know on the other side of it chaos occurs. When people feel they have nothing to live for and no hope for tomorrow they cast off caution. I pray God intervenes and a strong leader emerges to raise a standard. But it begins with us one by one, diligently watching over one another and standing in the gap for the voiceless...if it’s not your problem today it will be your problem soon. Remember Corona. Don’t wait until the ugliness is at your door step, champion those who suffer from injustice now! - #regrann #FaithForTheJourney @stormy_ Use this link when you shop: https://stormy-faye-llc.myshopify.com/collections/all https:// stormyfayethechristianrunaway.tumblr.com/ #May27th2020 https://www.instagram.com/p/CAswMAhJ74J/?igshid=jm28bwavna0h

#regrann #faithforthejourney #may27th2020

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natsumi-no-hotaru · 6 years

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The Great Catch-up Continues: Shoukoku no Altair #17

[Previously: The Empire Strikes Back and Everyone Takes to Horses]

It is getting surprisingly harder to write about Altair these days. If you’ve been following me for a while, you probably know that I complained enough about how my work often got in the way and delayed my writing progress. Barring such interruption, I honestly thought it was becoming easier to get the words out, especially by the end of the first cour and beginning of 2nd cour. Now confronted by writer’s block and all other manners of struggles with words, I must bring myself to face the not so comfortable truth that my writing chops have truly gone downhill to an unimaginable extent. ‘Tis the fate of one who does not read as much literature as she should (Merlin fanfics are entirely to be blamed) and totally skimps out on writing practice for the last couple of years.

*breathe out*

Now that I got that lump in my throat out, I do feel like I can write with slightly more ease now. So before I bore you to tears with more doldrums about my pathetic excuse of writer’s life, let’s dive into episode 17 - another episode that like episode 16, left me with very mixed feelings about the direction that the show seems to be heading to. While there’s no serious butchering of the original material involved, the shallow treatment of some material often enough results in the lack of nuanced characterization and highlights in the storytelling.

I can only hope that the brilliance that brought the Civil War arc to life would shine in the next episodes (that I have yet to watch). Fingers crossing tight, y’all.

In the meantime (and in the absence of Amadeo), I’m looking forward to this person making his second debut (LOL) in the next episode, with Mah-kun and company in slightly less clothes, oh ho ho ho (am absolutely channeling Team Rocket’s Jessie here), due to more pleasurable circumstances than compulsory and intrusive physical examination at immigration checkpoints.

So, let’s go with the positive bits first: the backgrounds!

These are incredible, from variety to the effort involved. I particularly enjoy the paintings hung in the Gonfaloniere’s rooms in Arno and Florence. The Greco tiles running along the room’s wall in Arno are truly lovely.

It was quite amusing to see Giulio (Arno’s Gonfaloniere) nodding to all that Mah-kun said regarding stopping the progress of the Empire’s army and preventing war in Rumeliana, until Mah-kun made mention of granting the Turkish army passage through the Italian states, which literally jerked Giulio into action, what with his strong reaction to the possible presence of Turkish army in Cuore di Rumeliana.

Sunset over Florence

The painting of Turk invaders 500 years ago in Rumeliana. It would be interesting to get some backstory about that historical period - I’m particularly interested in what prompted the invasion, since religion doesn’t play much of a role in Altair. In the meantime, I’m pretty glad to see that this episode showed the prevailing fear of Turk invaders among the people of Cuore di Rumeliana, from ordinary people on the streets to the elite confronting Caterina later on.

The costumes look pretty legit too, especially the colors - they look just right. My favourite is probably Kiros’ cos LOL, that hat with the cumbersome length of cloth. But on the other hand, he looks great in that shade of Venetian red.

Though I thought Suleyman would look a little more dashing in his Italian clothes. Unfortunately, not really. But to be honest, the anime has not been able to do justice to Suleyman’s rugged handsome looks from the very beginning.

The colour combination on Mah-kun’s outer cloak makes me think of a page a bit LOL. The hat is sweet though, but it kinda disappeared after he met Caterina?

I like his awestruck expression on admiring the vaulted ceiling and columns in the City Hall - it just makes him so precious :x

And now it’s time to reunite with Suleyman’s old flame - Caterina de Rossi.

(Here comes the volley of criticism, btw.)

It’s a bit of a shame that this impressive room was not recreated in its entirety in the anime. It would have been quite something.

Regarding my opinion on Caterina, the long and short of it is that the animation and the anime’s characterization do not do her justice. While the choice of Noto Mamiko as Caterina’s voice actor is brilliant (she voiced the enigmatic Benten in Uchouten Kazoku - her voice is music to the ears), I want to see a crisper interpretation of Caterina, for lack of a better word.

Yes, she’s slippery, she’s elusive, she’s a politician through and through, she had a history with Suleyman, it feels like the everything on the checklist is crossed off but ... not really? I’m not exactly sure what is missing here, but Caterina’s characterization in the anime lacks weight. The best answer I can come up at the moment is because she’s not scary enough, she’s too demure in the anime. Kotono’s Caterina is formidable, not only in the sense that you are never quite sure what she really thinks but also because she’s scary and has quite a temper to boost, even if she manages to restrain it really well.

Compare this shot to Kotono’s drawing and you’ll see what I mean.

Kotono’s Caterina is frequently drawn in shadow, which swathes her character in mystery as well as makes her frankly, intimidating. In the manga, Caterina clearly gives off the impression that she’s not someone to be crossed, that one should use caution while dealing with her. Which explains why the Florence elite later had to band up to deliver their message of blackmail - because they don’t have the guts to face her one-on-one.

The animation quality is not very consistent in this episode - the natural elegance from episode 15 is missing here..

Kiros looks hilarious in this shot - such a frowny face.

Let the footsie game begin!

Aside from minor issues in drawing, the footsie scene is actually quite a joy to watch - I had to try so hard to suppress my giggles while watching this episode during lunch time in the office. The contrast between the fancy ostentatious chamber music track and Mah-kun’s embarrassment and discomfort is just too cruel, hahaha.

Suleyman later said that “you all were taken in by Caterina”, meaning that it was not only Mah-kun who couldn’t handle the situation. I think that sentence applied to him too, since he didn’t look that comfortable receiving her attention either.

He’s so A.DO.RA.BLE - I can see why Caterina would pick him to tease, it’s just so entertaining to see him blushing and mumbling like a little kid.

I love that though Suleyman, Kiros and other friends of Mah-kun may make fun of Mah-kun’s innocence and inexperience with women from time to time, none of them judges him as less than a man or a leader for that. They may try to get him to remedy his lack of knowledge but merely as trying out a new experience, not because they would think less of him otherwise.

It’s sweet to see Suleyman’s defense of Caterina’s honour was not taken out. It goes a long way to show that Suleyman is not the kind of man who would just think so lowly of his beloved.

And of course, it would take a Venedician to pay an actual compliment to Caterina’s control over the entire exchange.

Mmhm, Abiriga looks great in his costume here, doesn’t he? :D

He’s got such an expressive face.

Meanwhile in Scoglio, General Pino (Pineau) doesn’t cut quite an impressive figure in the anime as I wished. The way he delivered his speech about the Empire being the legitimate heir of Phoenicia, for having captured the cities of Phoenicia and Scoglio, just was completely lacklustre.

These following lines should definitely have struck fear into the audience, not just gave them a mild shock.

It all came back to Caterina in the end.

It’s strange cos even she has similar features to her manga counterpart and I can see the care that went in animating her, she doesn’t seem to have a strong presence on screen to me. Beauty is great but this kind of flawless, youthful beauty does not fully reflect Caterina’s character. Caterina’s charm is that of an aged wine, a matron of strong will and determination. In the manga, one can feel the marks of age from her expressions and her demeanor, in a way that only makes her more alluring.

The shadows here render more depth to her. I also like the sparkling glint in her eyes - the only thing missing is a hint of intimidation to put all those elite folks back in their proper place.

I like this little anime-original detail. It makes sense that she would not keep Suleyman’s picture out in the open, what with the anti-Turkiye sentiments among her people.

I like the reference to the Turks’ equestrian life here. Shame that Lord Giovanni was not involved in the quest to open the eyes of those heads of Cuore states. That would be so much fun.

Lord Giovanni looks so much like a shorter version of Santa Claus.

So she said. But we all know that this would not change much, right?

Extras: Bits that I wish were included

1. Camaraderie between kyoudai:

2. The War Machine:

Quite a striking imagery for the Empire’s Army.

3. Suleyman prettying himself up:

4. Bianca

I hope to see her in the next episode, with Vasco.

That’s it! See you at episode 18!

#natsumi talks #Shoukoku no Altair #Shokoku no Altair #altair a record of battles #altair: a record of battles #Mahmut Tughril #tughril mahmut #turkiye #florence #shoukoku no altair episode 17 #caterina di rossi #suleyman

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rvareviews-blog · 7 years

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RVA Film Review #1 - Wonder Woman

Hello, all! You guys in the meantime can call me Sal. A little bit about the meaning of RVA: R stands for Radio, which is a reference to Radio-Keith-Orpheum, the iconic classic production company. The V and the A stand for Vergil and Alighieri respectively, two writers known for epic poetry. Today I’m presenting the film review of my favorite movie of 2017 thus far, Wonder Woman! This movie has changed everything I knew about the character and has even encouraged me to read some comics I’ve had of her that’s just been gathering dust; not only that but Patty Jenkins’ directing does show a lot of potential for future DCEU projects; anyway, on to the review:

Epic films in this day and age are known for being very pompous in nature, with verbal complexities that take away from the characters who speak them. Occasionally, an homage to the classics happens, with characters displaying more action than reaction. 2017’s Wonder Woman, starring the lovely Gal Gadot and endearing Chris Pine, is an excellent cinematic example of the fight between good and evil that doesn’t lose itself in violence and explosions. Set during the dangerous and confusing era of the First World War, it is a story that is both nostalgic in its writing and inspiring in its conflict. Sections of the film that truly express the heart of the story’s themes - the origin of human violence and hatred - take examples from the story of Cain and Abel in the Holy Bible; these are prominent in the first act, during the No Man’s land battle, and the finale at the airfield.

Towards the beginning, the viewer gets a personal view into the world of the mystical Amazons, specifically through the world of young Princess Diana. Her yearn to fight for truth and justice is visible when she emulates her older Amazonian peers, using her indestructible bracelets to deflect imaginary arrows as if they are the real thing. Later on, her mother Queen Hippolyta tells a young Diana the Story of the Amazons, detailing the Olympian gods and how through the power of Ares men were made arrogant and violent towards each other. Only then did the mediators known as the Amazons come in to fill man’s heart with hope for a better world. A parallel can be drawn to the Creation story, where Adam and Eve were created, and all was good and happy. Only when Eve’s temptations by the serpent did she convince Adam to disobey God, which was what eventually caused The Fall. A parallel can be drawn to Ares’ control over humanity, and how through mere “whispers” and “ideas” he causes people to do horrific things. A great example in the Book of Genesis comes from Cain gaining jealousy for his better-liked brother Abel, and he reacts by committing the first fratricide.

Later on, our lovely Amazonian hero Diana Prince continues with her first man Steve Trevor to London, where Ms. Diana Prince gets an introduction to the “World of Man,” through a rustic and muddy London, still confused on how to end the Great War. Throughout their time in London, Diana is shown examples of “Man’s Jealousy,” when British servicemen are catcalling her during a scene. Later on, Britons coming back from the front are shown arriving blind and have missing legs from a navy boat our two heroes are about to disembark on. Another example of the suffering of the enlisted soldier in the Great War comes when Diana, Steve, and their compatriots first arrive at the front. One of the first sights on screen is of a British soldier screaming in terrible pain from having his right leg being blown off. Parallels of this section of the film come from another movie about the Great War, 1930’s All Quiet On The Western Front; from a German soldier’s spine-tingling scream when he gets shot while traversing the trenches to other saddening moments in the Carl Laemmle classic. Later on, Diana and Steve go on to General Ludendorff’s gala, with Diana becoming ever more motivated on the notion of Ares being the direct perpetrator of the Great War. Her compatriots track the General down to a specific airfield, where Doctor Poison - the General’s head scientist - is loading a bomber up with her advanced hydrogen gas, and Diana learns the truth about her destiny.

As she gets to the airfield, fighting Germans and looking fabulous while doing it, she discovers the head of the German Army orchestrating his evils at the base. The two fight, Ludendorff popping open some of Dr. Poison’s drugs to support himself, but as expected Diana prevails. When she ends him, nothing changes. It is as if who she killed was no-one at all. Steve hurries up to find her, and he explains that war - specifically the war they’re fighting, is a lot more complicated to end than by just killing one man. She gets starstruck by this as the actual perpetrator of the war, the Briton Sir Patrick, appears behind her. He explains how it isn't the most wicked and intelligent people who do the most evil, but it is the prideful cowards who have no empathy for the weak that allow evil to persist. He also rants on about how he always influences indirectly, giving only ideas about the horrific things that can be done and he just watched from the sidelines as the evil follow his wishes. This can be seen as a direct reference to the tempting of Eve at the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil by the Serpent, with him saying his empty promises to Eve and on how “she will know the truth” if she bites the Apple. As Diana attempts to end Ares’ life with the “god killer,” it shatters upon touching his hands. He mentions to her about how the weapon Zeus gave to the world to fight the corrupted gods was Diana herself, and on how the only power her sword gave her was the skill and precision she exerted with it. Shortly after this, as she gets shoved off the tower onto the airfield. Steve Trevor and his three compatriots are focusing on their more down-to-earth objective, Doctor Poison’s hydrogen gas. Before Trevor sacrifices all for the good of everyone, he gives Diana his prized watch passed down his family. This final image of humanity and peace gives Diana her inward motivation to fight a hard-fought fight for peace and love against the Olympian embodiment of hate and war. Diana remembers, before she gets obliterated, her most prized piece of armor…her armored bracelets. As Ares makes his final blow, Diana deflects it with her blessed bracelets, ending the god of war and restoring peace and prosperity to the world. After hate and jealousy are expelled from the world, peace and a beautiful sunset set upon the airfield, with soldiers smiling and hugging, once enemies who would shoot each other on sight before. The film ends beautifully, with Diana repeating the opening words of the movie, but with more knowledge than before; she says how the most important part to make a good world is to love each other, because only through that can peace be made and a better world for humanity will follow.

#2017 #wonder woman #film review #dc comics #patty jenkins #movies

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