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#what can i say except my expectations are exceeded because they were on the ground in the first place
anniflamma · 6 months
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Rating the most gayest King David adaptions
For the past few weeks, I have been watching and reviewing ALOT different adaptations of the story of King David from the Bible to determine which ones are the gayest.
But first, let me provide you with a recap of David and Jonathan's story.
David and Jonathan were two central figures in the Hebrew Bible, with their story primarily found in the First Book of Samuel. David was a ruddy shepherd boy who became famous for slaying the giant Goliath with a stone and a sling. Jonathan, on the other hand, was the son of King Saul, the first king of Israel. Jonathan's heart was captured instantly upon seeing the striking young hero. As the Bible says, “The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David.” Shortly after their first meeting, David and Jonathan expressed their commitment by making a covenant with each other. This significant moment is vividly portrayed in 1 Samuel 18:3-4: "Then Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as his own soul. Jonathan removed the robe he was wearing and presented it to David, along with his armor, sword, bow, and girdle." David and Jonathan grew so close that it appeared they might one day rule Israel together throughout the following 15 years. However, they faced numerous challenges when King Saul grew jealous of David's popularity and success, fearing that David might take the throne from his family. Saul attempted to kill David multiple times, while Jonathan consistently came to his friend's rescue through various means. However, they were eventually forced to part ways. "And as soon as the lad was gone, David arose out of a place toward the South, fell on his face to the ground, and bowed himself three times. They kissed one another and wept, one with another, until David exceeded." Tragically, Jonathan lost his life in battle against the Philistines, leaving David in deep mourning. He composed a heartfelt lament known as the "Song of the Bow" (or what is famously called “How the Mighty Fallen”) to honor Jonathan and Saul's memory. "I grieve for you, Jonathan my brother; you were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women."
So, as you can see, I will rate each adaptation based on its portrayal of three specific moments:
Jonathan removes his clothes and makes a covenant with David.
When they have to separate from each other, as they embrace, kiss, cry, and David exceeds.
David's lament that he loved Jonathan more than women.
If these three moments are faithfully retained in the adaptation without altering the text, it will be considered queer in my evaluations. Naturally, there may be exceptions if the adaptation deviates significantly from the original material or if it primarily focuses on adapting specific aspects of the story while still hinting at or incorporating subtexts. In such cases, they may also receive points.
NOW, LET'S BEGIN!
Disclaimer: Some of these "reviews" will sound professional, while others I will act like a gremlin, because these movies actually broke my brain cells. So if you get whiplash from how my behavior suddenly changes all the time, consider yourself warned.
Another disclaimer: Don't be like me and do something similar to this... I don't think this was healthy for my brain.
Jonathan what now..? 1/5
So I'm going to be kind and bring up that the story of King David is long, especially if you make an adaption of his whole life. It's reasonable to expect modifications to accommodate the chosen medium. And frequently, this leads to Jonathan's character being sidelined, either because he's deemed less important or because there's too little time to delve into his role in the story.
Due to that, I won't delve deeply into those adaptions because of that.
Superbook Reimagined (2011) - CBN
Jonathan doesn't exist in Superbook... That all. I WONT TALK ABOUT THE SUPERBOOK.
David and Goliath - Animated Stories from the Bible (1985) - Rich Animation Studios
So this one is pretty interesting. Apparently the same studio that made The Swan Princess (1994) made the series called Animated Stories from the Bible. And I weren't aware of this while watching this episode, however I did noticed, that yes, this had a very low budget but you could tell that it was made by professionals. I have one thing I need to comment on this movie. Eliab and Jonathan looks pretty goooood...
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I mean LOOK AT JONATHAN! FFF***KING HELL! HE LOOKS LIKE A HOT VILLIAN AND I LOVE IT! The character designs are sleek! Expect for David. David was trash. So why is this one so low down on my ratings? You see the episode only focus on the upcoming fight between David and Goliath. In a sense, the episode's emotional core are more about David and his brother Eliab, with the brother not believing that David could defeat the enemy. Jonathan has a really small role, and he doesn't really interact with David that much. However there is a scene, when Saul gives his armor to the shepherd and it doesn't fit him cuz he is a smol bean, Jonathan comments on that the boy is going to get killed while having this frustrating / angry tone. Indicating that Jonathan don't believe that David and of course get astonished once he triumph. But that is all we get. I wished I could rate this higher simply to I just love the character designs.
David - A Musical by Sound & Sight Theater
Alright, I'm going to say it. This is probably the most campiest and "we need to tell you about Jesus" - musical there is. The songs are freaking great, very modern, almost anime-ish and very EPIC! But then they suddenly they strike you with, "Hey do you know who Jesus is?" Anyway, my favorite songs of this musical is Never Back and Psalm 24.
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I only listened to this musical on its recorded album. Overall, I found it very enjoyable! However, I was quite disappointed that they didn't have Jonathan none of their songs. There were no solos for him, and all I could do was imagine if there was a strip covenant scene or not between each number. They didn't even have a "We are best bros" song! They also removed a lot from the emotional core when David mourned the loss of Jonathan. David sings the song "How The Mighty Fall," which is very short, but for some reason, I really liked it. Even though it's short and David only repeats Jonathan's name over and over again, I could feel that sadness. Still, the musical also left out several scenes from the original story, possibly because it aimed to be more family-friendly and was very sanitized so no one would get upset. AND WHY IS THIS MUSICAL ENDING WITH JESUS?!!
David “the straightest man” and Michal his truest love that has ever existed before Bathsheba came into the picture and a lot of Shoulder Taps for Jonathan 2/5
Superbook (1981) - Tatsunoko Productions
I can't believe that I watched three episodes of Superbook... Can I explain this mess without dying inside? So, this is a Japanese anime from 1981. The series covers the events of the entire Bible in its 52-episode run. I watched the English dub, and yeah, what else can I say? It's probably the best dub I've ever heard, with genius acting, including their screams. You can tell they aren't really screaming because they know it will break the mics. To get straight to the point, their relationships are just good friendships, and they see each other as brothers. However, they do follow the story very faithfully, pun intended. But, of course, they add in more scenes with Michal so her relationship with David looks romantic, and Jonathan takes on a wingman role. There is no stripping scene, which is understandable since it's an animated series for kids. Instead, they merge the covenant scene with their separation. To sum it up, they shake hands and repeatedly tell the audience that they are only friends. Okay, we get it!
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But then we have the Lament scene: "Oh Lord, may you have mercy on his soul. Your glory, O Israel, has been slain. How the mighty have fallen in battle. I grieve for you, Jonathan, my brother… My brother…" THEY WERE SO CLOSE! They looked at the rest, "You were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women," and then they were like CUT! But the best delivery line in this adaptation must go to Saul: "How stupid to believe he could murder a hundred philistines without being murdered HA HA HA HA!" I can't do this anymore…!
King David (1997) - Mondo TV
This Italian animated movie features child actors who can't seem to deliver a line without mumbling and speaking at the lowest decibel levels imaginable. Thank goodness that Kid David and Kid Jonathan grew up after… Let me check… The first 15 minutes of this movie… Well, they are childhood friends in this one, so I guess that's a win. Michal is from Sweden. Saul repeatedly tells his (also Swedish) wife to stfu in every scene he's in. Storywise, this movie shakes things up a bit. When David is chased into the wilderness, both Michal and Jonathan join him…? It's really confusing what's going on because the next moment Jonathan is back with Saul, hearing his plan to attack David in the mountains, so he runs back to David to deliver the news. All of this happens in about 3 minutes. But when they finally have their farewell scene, they, of course, do the Shoulder Tap! However, they hug with an animation that lasts for like 3 frames, and… you know what, I'll just let you witness this…
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And then we have the Lament. It's pretty faithful, but as you guessed, they changed the last line from "You were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women." to "I loved Jonathan as a brother. We rode together, his hair flowing free in the wind." …I don't know if they made it worse or better…
King David - A musical by Alan Menken & Tim Rice
I acted like a fangirl when I realized that Alan Menken and Tim Rice had created a musical about King David! I was so hyped and really thought it was going to be really gay... I think I expected too much...
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The musical premiered in 1997 and was a grand and ambitious show. While it may not be as well-known as some of Menken and Rice's other collaborations, such as "The Little Mermaid" or "Beauty and the Beast," I was blown away that this musical even existed in the first place. The music itself is really good. It reminds me of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" but more campy. My favorite is the song "The Death Of Saul." Genius! And of course, "Never Again," sung by Judy Kuhn. There are so many Disney stars in this show! It's insane! However, this musical is not without its flaws. The story's scope, which covers many events, can at times feel rushed or disjointed. The mistake that the creators made was trying to cover it all. So the musical has 2 acts. The first is about David in his younger years until he becomes king, and the second act covers everything from Bathsheba to Absalom's revolt, ending with kid Solomon singing about Jerusalem. This results in Jonathan becoming like a background character, and this makes me really angry. So almost every scene that David and Jonathan have together, Jonathan is replaced with Michal. TIM?! ALAN?! What are you two doing??? You are basically telling us, without explicitly telling us, that the relationship of David and Jonathan is queer by having Michal instead. Like... what..? This is the same guy who made "Jesus Christ Superstar," and that show is definitely "not straight", so I have no idea what's going on in his head. Anyway, Jonathan has only 1 song/melody called "You Have It All." It's when Saul shows that he's going crazy when David becomes popular, and Jonathan takes David away from the palace to a safe place. Sigh... You can tell by the lyrics that Tim is trying to be cheeky but immediately backtracks by having both David and Jonathan overly articulate the word "friend" in the song. (I seriously recommend you to listen to the song, just so you understand what I mean.) DAVID "I love my friend!!! as I love life and both I cherish. Uncompromising and unfailing. I swear this covenant we make will never perish. In any circumstance prevailing" JONATHAN "It's very hard when things come easy. You start to fear a bitter end. I promise you, you have a friend!!!" However, Jonathan gets a reprise again in the separation scene, but then Michal suddenly pushed Jonathan aside and takes it over with her own song. Then we have the Lament. The song itself is really good and beautiful. It's like a sad Disney song. But the lyrics themselves have this uncertain tone on who David is singing about. But they do reveal it at the end. "Jonathan... Jonathan... Who loved me more bravely than you, whether harlots or wives!" We can clearly see that David mourns over him. But for me, it feels so awkward...
They are just friends..? 3/5
The King: Story of David (2004)
I felt like I was on shrooms watching this. There's this three-minute scene where David sings to Saul... I can't even explain it, it's just horrible. Poor Saul looks absolutely horrified when this abomination of character design from a different show enters the room and sings with the voice of an adult woman.
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AND WHY IS MICHAL PURPLE?! They also switch her name’s pronunciations like 5 times in this movie... Well, about Jonathan. So they took the approach that David is a literary child and had Jonathan as an adult… What the hell am I supposed to say about this? Oh god... I hate this.
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Then David grows up, gets the same artstyle as the other adults and instead of Saul nagging David to marry Michal, it's David himself that asks Saul to marry his daughter, just to make sure that we know that he loves her soooo much. This results in Saul wanting to kill him, which leads to the separation scene. So maybe you are now asking me, why is this movie up here on the list? Looks like they made sure that David was the straightest man that has ever straightening. Oooh, I’ll get there. So we get to see a jpg of David and Jonathan look at each other for like 10 seconds, then tap each other on their shoulders, look at each other eyes and David says with the most sultry voice ever “Jonathan…”. Surprisingly, hug each other and weep. huh… didn't expect that. That voice that David used was enough to make the whole freaking movie a gay so that's why it's up here. If I ever have to watch this again, I need to get paid.
The Bible (2013)
Ah, yes, I remember this one. I watched it when it aired on TV, and I was just a wee little teen falling in love with the guy who played Samson. But we'll be watching the fourth episode of "The Bible Series." This episode was a speed run through the whole story of David, with a lot of stuff cut. Yet, the subtext in this adaptation is gorgeous! We have David walking to Goliath and Jonathan looking on with worry in his eyes—MULTIPLE TIMES! And miraculously, the actor managed to hit Goliath despite having the freaking sun in his eyes at full blast. That poor actor with his nonstop squinted eyes couldn’t see shit on set. Once Goliath is defeated, Jonathan and Saul run to David and are proud of him. All we get from the Covenant Stripping scene is Jonathan taking David's hand and telling him to come with him and fight the enemies, like best bros! Then a montage arrives, and David and Jonathan are older. Saul is jealous and touches David a little too much for my comfort. Meanwhile, Jonathan is just sitting on the floor eating figs. Wat?
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And then Saul proposes the idea that David should marry Michal, and Jonathan's face falls. Gasp! David gets sent to kill 100 Philistines, and we get this wonderful scene with Saul and Jonathan. Saul: "You love him like a brother, don't you?" Jonathan responds with a warm, soft smile, looking at David riding away. "I do..." Saul gives off big "My son is totally straight" vibes. Sadly, this episode neither has the separating scene nor anything that resembles a covenant. And yes, they also skipped the majority of the Lament. Maybe I am projecting... I am probably projecting.
They are friends! I PROMISE! 4/5
King David (1985) - Paramount Pictures
This movie provides a different angle on the biblical story of David and Jonathan. The film includes a line that suggests a strong emotional connection between the two characters, though it doesn't explicitly delve into romance. It doesn't say that David and Jonathan are in a romantic relationship, but it makes you think that they have deeper layers to their "bond." In other words, I really ship them in this adaptation! They didn't have the strip scene, but they did have a scene where both of them are at a lake, water sparkling in the sun, looking into each other's eyes. Jonathan softly cups David's cheek and says, "I love you as I love my own soul."
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... Wait, he touched his shoulder softly, not his cheek... Forget it. But they are very tender toward each other. However, we can't have great things because the separation scene was very weak. All we get is that they are both on horses, and then they just say goodbye, and that's it. No hugs, no tears, no kissing, and no exceeding David. But I can add that Jonathan's death was very heartbreaking. After watching awful animated death scenes, it was a breath of fresh air. The Lament, for some reason, had a spooky tune, not really like a man grieving for his soulmate. Why is this adaptation so high up for me? Well, Jonathan said "I love you" while looking into David's eyes with a beautiful natural background. That is enough for me.
Ancient Lovers 5/5
Beloved King: A queer bible musical
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(There mentions of SA)
You can already tell by the name of the musical... "Beloved King" follows the young shepherd David as he is thrust from rural fields into the royal court. After his sudden rise to prominence, David finds himself the object of affection of both the heir to the throne, Prince Jonathan, and his father, the domineering King Saul, forcing David to re-navigate his relationship to love and power as he tries to follow the path laid out for him by a mysterious entity called God. The first-ever staged readings of "Beloved King," complete with all songs and live accompaniment, were scheduled for March 12th and March 13th, 2020, at Oberon, the second stage of the American Repertory Theater, in Harvard Square. Both events sold out well in advance, but they were canceled the day before opening due to COVID-19. However, the team rallied and quickly pivoted to film a dress rehearsal in an empty theater just before lockdown. One of the most hilarious things about this musical is that the characters are dressed in simple linen garments that look like they belong in a children's nativity school play, only to have David and/or Jonathan strip and expose their flashy sparkling spandex briefs. Undeniably, it fits perfectly with the nightclub-inspired atmosphere that this show has.
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This musical feels like it's straight from the Archive of Our Own. Jonathan and David are dating, and we have a jealous Saul who is not jealous of David's popularity, instead, he desires him sexually and tries to bang him. When David denies Saul, that's when Saul tries to kill him instead.
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The musical has all three scenes checked. The covenant scene, with Jonathan stripping and "more." There was a scene of their farewell, however, they haven't released that one song, so I can't really say anything about it yet. Lastly, the lament song in its full glory. Sadly, the whole musical isn't out yet. They have only released six demo samples, and let me say that "ADONI" is THE MEET-CUTE SONG!
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This musical was the very thing that made me nerd out on the Bible again. So maybe I am biased, but how can I be biased if they depict David and Jonathan's first meeting with them banging each other in Jonathan's tent?
David et Jonathas: An opera by Marc-Antoine Charpentier
This one was a hidden gem I didn't know existed. Thank you @alatabouleau for the recommendation! It's an opera from 1688. It's all in French, so I was worried that I would have missed all of the lyrics, but I found a translation pamphlet and found one of the concerts on the live-opera Versailles website. All I can say is it was beautiful and so, so, so queer.
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The prologue starts with Saul, disguised as a visitor, consulting the Witch of Endor to learn his fate in an upcoming battle against the Philistines. The Witch summons the spirit of Samuel, who predicts Saul's downfall, including losing his family and crown.
In Act 1, David, banished by Saul, seeks refuge among the Philistines. He returns from a victory and is praised by warriors, shepherds, and freed captives. David only wishes that, whatever may come, Jonathan should be spared. The Philistine king tells David that a truce has been arranged between the Philistines and Saul to discuss whether there shall be peace or war.
In Act 2, during the truce, David and Jonathan reunite. And then they both sing the song “A vostre bras vainqueur,” and it's the most beautiful harmonic song I have ever heard. It sounds so romantic, even if they are only singing about them being best friends. However, jealousy brews as Joabel challenges David to combat, leading to a plot against him. Joabel convinces Saul that David is a threat, leading to David's exile again.
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In Act 3, Saul accuses David of treason, and David is forced to leave. However, Jonathan follows David into the wilderness so they can sing their goodbye, “Vous me fuiez!” Don’t forget this is an opera, so everyone is really dramatic, and I'm loving it. JONATHAN “You flee from me!” DAVID “You always follow me!” JONATHAN “May I not share my grief with you?” DAVID “See into what danger my misfortune leads you. Let us forget one another.” JONATHAN “Cruel one!“ The song continues with them singing about not wanting to be apart and if they see each other in the battlefield, they won’t fight, but instead save the one they love. And then the song ends with David trying to leave again, and Jonathan begs once more, only to be told by David: “Would you now wish to add to my torment with your tears?”
This song… I want to make an animatic of it...
In Act 4, Saul prepares to battle the Philistines and David. Both armies are eager for war, fueled by Joabel's manipulations. David promises to save Jonathan and his father.
And lastly, in Act 5, the battle unfolds, with Saul's defeat. Then the song “Qu’on sauve Jonathas” starts. Jonathan is mortally wounded, and David finds him. He believes that Jonathan is dead and mourns for him, which wakes Jonathan up to be able to speak to David one last time, asking: “What sad voice is calling me?”. David begs Jonathan for him to live, but the prince tells him that he can’t. And with his final words, he kisses David and then dies in his arms.
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“Despite the harshness of my fate, At least I can still tell you that I love you. ” David is to be declared the new king of Israel, but he still grieves for Jonathan, ending the opera with his final line: “I have lost what I love. My Lord, to me all is lost.”
Well, I cried in my bed.
I didn't know that I needed a story where David was by Jonathan's side in his last moments in life. And the kiss! THE KISS! Though the kiss depends on which adaptations you see. If it's 2022, then there is no kiss, but if it's the 2012 version, then there is one. However, with or without a kiss, it's still romantically tragic.
Here is PDF links to pamphlets with english translations:
English translation (2009 version)
English + German translation (1998 version)
The Prince's Psalm: A novel by Eric Swan Quinn
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So here it is, Beloved King: A queer bible musical was the one that pushed me down into the rabbit hole but The Prince's Psalm was the one that got me stuck here. I highly recommend this book, and it leaves me speechless how it isn't more popular! So The Prince’s Psalm is a queer and romantic retelling of the story of David and Jonathan from the Bible. The book begins with David's childhood, providing perspectives on his early life and relationships, especially with Micah and David’s family. Micah and David had a deep friendship that grew into young love and they became each other's firsts. A core theme that comes up regularly in this novel is about being treated and viewed as equal in a healthy relationship. Micah held a weird place in my heart. I enjoyed “not liking” him. I could immediately see his immaturity in his relationship with David. Of course, I understand they were both young  and immature, yet this was important to emphasize the message, which I believe it’s about being equal in a relationship. Micah loved David, but he saw him somewhat beneath him due to David not fitting the stereotypical masculine man image. And every time they "play" with each other Micah calls David "My Slave" despite David's irritated and uncomfortable of it. So the moment when Jonathan is introduced, the first thing he calls David is "My Prince" and do everything that David wishes Micah would do for him but wouldn't. If we are going to compare Jonathan and Micah, it's pretty obvious which one are the right choice. But who cares about Micah, we are talking about Jonathan and David now! So the plot follows Jonathan summons David, hoping on his musical talents to aid King Saul's from being tormented by “evil spirits”. David's initial experiences within the palace only reinforce his sense of inadequacy in the eyes of those he admires and cares for. He plays tirelessly, day and night, in an effort to soothe the king's troubles, ultimately healing King Saul's fears of God’s abandonment. From that moment forward, Jonathan can no longer resist David's charms, leading the two to become inseparable. As they spend a winter together, their bond deepens, uniting their bodies and souls. The novel doesn't delve into explicit sexual scenes, instead, it focuses on the emotional connection between the two characters. Nevertheless, they do have quite a lot of intense passionate sessions, it just written with a flowery language. So their oath, the exchanged rings, the beautiful yet sad promises, is heart moving. Every moment felt perfect and captivating! Jonathan's death left me shattered. I cried a lot. And cried even more when the book included the whole Lament. After devouring all 480 pages, I found myself wanting the story to continue. Eric Shaw Quinn made a wonderful job in reimagining the familiar narrative yet adding new in depth layers to it. I wholeheartedly love this novel! So is it gay? Yes.
THE END!
Finally, I have finished everything. There was more, but there is no way in hell I will continue.
What did I learn from this experience?
Nothing really, except that the people whose arguments claim that David and Jonathan's relationship isn't romantic at all, yet in the same breath, they can replace Jonathan with Michal, and suddenly it is romantic. I learned that their arguments are worthless at the core.
But despite with the pain and cringing, I loved nerd out about my favorite David and Jonathan adaptations! And I think I did this just because of that.
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erynalasse · 2 years
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What are your thoughts on Finwe? We've examined his children and his children's children to death, and along the way we've talked about this guy, but I'd be curious to see what you'd say about him in a long meta format. Should we condemn the Noldor Patriarch, and if so, on what grounds?
To me, a lot of Finwë’s shortcomings are characterized by what he didn’t do, rather than what he did. It’s an interesting theme of the Silmarillion: some of the most morally grey conundrums are found in the gaps by asking where people were, and why they didn’t do something. But that’s a ramble for another day!
Contrary to what my opener might have sounded like, I have a lot of sympathy for Finwë. Losing a beloved spouse is terrible—more so when you have children. But Finwë, of course, never expected to lose Míriel because this is Aman, and that kind of thing doesn’t happen here. Indeed, the Silmarillion is very explicit on this point: “[A]lone in all the Blessed Realm he was deprived of joy.” That’s a powerful claim to make, but let’s examine it a bit more.
I do think this is a poetic overstatement in many ways. For one, Finwë has a newborn son, and if he can’t find any joy in Fëanor at all, we’re focusing on the wrong problems here. Second, I also have a hard time buying that nobody in Valinor has experienced losing a spouse. Finwë was a leader at Cuiviénen and part of the generation of the Great Journey; he’s seen death before Aman, and so did the people who came with him. The implication of that quote above seems to be that all of these dead have returned from the Halls of Mandos, but it’s not like nobody in Valinor knows this particular pain. Besides, the past clings; there are going to be people “deprived of joy” because of a traumatic losses, even when loved ones come back. Correcting the loss doesn’t mean everything is okay again.
And yet, Finwë’s situation is different, and those differences are worth commenting on too. Not only is Míriel the first and only death in Valinor, her death is permanent. She has no desire to return to life, and that throws a wrench in the whole expected cycle. I can’t overstate how little help Finwë had to deal with this revelation. Nobody knows what this is like. Nobody has wisdom to give him. Nobody can sympathize with him, and in that way, Finwë is truly the only one in Valinor deprived of joy in this particular way. And I think this is how Indis enters the picture. It’s a fairly straightforward chain of logic: “I lost my wife, and now I am unhappy. If I remarry, this will restore my happiness.” I don’t mean to imply that Finwë just wanted a replacement — it’s explicit canon he never moves on from Míriel’s loss. It just feels like the kind of reasoning that would occur to a man steeped in a social context that goes ????? when confronted with this issue. I honestly have a hard time faulting that. Finwë seemed pretty fair about it all. He got the consent to remarry from everyone involved — even Míriel, and even the Valar, though I don’t think it was their business.
Except Fëanor. Yeah. How do we assess the fairness of a parent’s remarriage on their child? There are no easy answers, either in canon or in our own world. But I do think I there are two things in Finwë’s favor:
Finwë waits until Fëanor is fully grown to remarry. He’s married and living apart by then. (Per the published Silm, at least. @arofili has a fantastic post about the different versions someplace here!) Even in a very bad-faith reading, you can’t really argue that Finwë is setting out to give his first son a replacement mother in Indis.
In not one, but two different places, the Silmarillion makes a point that Finwë lavishes Fëanor with love, even exceeding that given to his wife and other children. At the very least, Fëanor cannot claim he was neglected and overlooked.
But about that last point, I think we do need to tack on some disclaimers. As I can attest, having parents who love you does not mean that they are good parents, nor does it mean that you have a healthy relationship with them. It certainly doesn’t mean that Finwë handled Fëanor’s anger and insecurities effectively, insofar as that was possible. 
In fact, I think Finwë’s relationship with Fëanor is most effectively read as a man desperately overcompensating for his son’s flaws by favoring him in every way. Finwë responds to extreme loss with extreme indulgence. For context, we have to see the same basic issue about step-family issues as we do about being a losing a spouse forever: Nobody in Valinor knows what to do about this. There are no good rulebooks for it. There are no examples to look at. And like with Míriel, I think Finwë’s actions make the most sense when you realize that this is where he’s coming from.
Even without the benefit of an established path, I still think that Finwë handles this family badly. Because you don’t have to be a genius to anticipate that having half-siblings will cause complicated feelings, and it’s unfair of Finwë to bring children into that when he wasn’t committed to treating them all fairly. And his unfairness goes way, way beyond just excessive attention to Fëanor in three really critical places: 
First, there’s the famous sword-to-the-throat incident. Finwë hears about the growing discord between the branches of his family and calls his sons together. Fingolfin gets there first, and he demands to know what Finwë is going to do to rein in Fëanor. Fëanor then arrives, accuses his brother of weaseling into first place in both counsel and succession, then draws his sword on Fingolfin and tells him to leave. Fingolfin bows to Finwë, and leaves “without word or glance to Fëanor”—and I can’t help reading some sarcastic implication there to the tune of see? see what your eldest son does? And Finwë! Finwë says nothing! Not to Fingolfin in reassurance, not to Fëanor in in reprimand, nothing. Not then, and not after. 
The Valar exile Fëanor for this incident, and Finwë follows his son into exile, forsaking the kingship to do it. This is really the lowest point of Finwë’s parenting for me. You cannot read this as anything other than a choice between his eldest son and his other children, especially on the heels of Fëanor threatening threatening Fingolfin with a sword. Fëanor pulls that, and Finwë once again responds with favoritism instead of criticism. What’s most interesting to me here is that Finwë does this out of “the love that he bore to Fëanor,” which is the exact same word that got thrown around other times that Finwë’s favoritism is pointed out. The continuity is critical. 
Finwë’s own death. Buddy. Buddy boy. What did you think you were doing here, trying to stand against Morgoth? You are not an idiot! You were at Cuviénen and you knew the Black Rider! You know it took all fourteen of the Valar to overcome him in the first war, and you think you can – frighten him? fight him off? restrain him? This is so very stupid, and yet Finwë doesn’t flee like everyone else. It’s clearly implied he was guarding the Silmarils that were left in Formenos under his care, because there was nothing and nobody else left worth protecting. And in so doing, Finwë placed his son’s dearest creations over his crown and his own life. This is, simply put, nothing less than a dereliction of duty to his people.
And so, in the end, I think Finwë’s faults were not so much that he remarried or had more children, but that he handled the set of problems that resulted very badly. The problem with him is that his faults are tangled up in grief and loss, as well as what feels like a genuine confusion about what he’s supposed to do about all this. He’s a fascinating character who gets more fascinating the more you dissect him, and it was a delight doing it here!
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theodora3022 · 3 years
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Playing tricks with the trickster
Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.
Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonest‘s this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.
Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.
Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises! 
(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)
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Warnings: Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.
It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had “taken you in”. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childe’s smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a “blessing”.
So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. It’s the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.
Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.
“Love, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.” Of course you wouldn’t want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover. 
You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, you’ll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, you’ll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when you’re cooking.  
You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.
Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isn’t going to alter that fact.
You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your “storm”(he thought of it more like a drizzle)
You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.
Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, that’s all.
The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.
There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story. 
Anyone’s sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you don’t want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?
You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.
Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he “trusts you”. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. It’s not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.
Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and you’ll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.
Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-
The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle. 
That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.
Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. It’s priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ain’t going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.
That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.
Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, you’ll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Where’s the fun in a game without challenges?
How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, it’s surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.
So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.
You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.
“Love, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.”
“Liyue is that way, you know.”
“Are you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!”
How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him?  Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.
When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childe’s embrace anyday. 
“Aw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.”
“Look at me.” His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. “You, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, let’s just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.”
“I know what you’re thinking. How I’m a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.”
“Come now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once we’re back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.”
Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after. 
You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully you’ll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.
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dwellordream · 2 years
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“Texts about petty treason clearly depict where and how women murder their husbands, but they have more trouble explaining why women do so. Just as the murderous wife challenged the conceptions of women's legal and moral stature on which marriage and social order depended, she also posed a problem for the many writers-hacks, ministers, legal personnel (judges, justices of the peace, clerks, and theorists), chroniclers, playwrights, and balladeers-who rushed to tell and sell her story. These authors attempt to tell a story in which a wife becomes the protagonist without conferring too much authority, prestige, or sympathy on a criminal, married woman. 
For only through transgression could such women, usually wives of yeomen, shopkeepers, tradesmen, and small landowners, demand attention outside of the household and neighborhood; only thus could they become the topic of debate in legal treatises and on streetcomers, the focus of attention in courtrooms and on scaffolds; only through transgression could they command a place at the center of a popular narrative as the protagonist of the story. If killing her husband made it possible for a wife to be at the center of a story, it remained a difficult story to tell. Certainly pamphlets describe who did what to whom with ease. Yet the texts that struggle to tell the story of a wife's transgression attempt to redress it through a didacticism that restricts the narration of her motives and desires. 
Once the writers begin to explore motives, they lose control of the moral of the story, for the more the reader engages with the wife the less simple the lesson becomes. To imagine, let alone sympathize or identify with, the frustrations of a wife is to question the legal and moral assumption that in the household there is only one citizen, one legal agent, one property owner, one decision maker: the husband. Some sixteenth- and seventeenth-century texts employ an explanation for the behavior of murderous wives that we often see in today's news and in popular culture; they represent the murderer as a battered wife who resorts to violence in despair and self-defense. Contrary to reductive analyses of the early modern family and the position of women in it, these period texts suggest a popular perception that husbands sometimes beat their wives to an extent that exceeded lawful correction and prudence and that beatings put wives in "a fit humour for the devill to worke on." 
Alice Clarke, for instance, is described as having visible bruises at the time that she is apprehended and examined for killing her husband. Even Henry Goodcole, the minister who counsels her and writes the gruesomely titled The Adultresses Funerall Day (1635) about her case, sees a connection between those bruises and her actions. The beatings described in such texts include not only drunken and impulsive assaults "with the next cudgell that came accidentally unto his hand" but also sadistic, eroticized rituals, such as "tying her to his bed-post to strip her and whippe her, etc." Although pamphlets exploit the titillation of such stories, despite the coy propriety of that "etc.," they also suggest that husbands could be uncontrolled, savage, and "unnatural," and that wives, especially those isolated from friends and neighbors by shame, distance, and religious or ethnic difference, might have felt that violence was their only recourse. 
Under common law, husbands had a legal right to beat their wives; however, the limits on this right were debated in conduct literature and explored in ecclesiastical courts when members of the community feared that excessive beatings threatened the wife's life and the peace of the neighborhood. The law did not spell out the limits on discipline except to assume that husbands did not have the right to kill their wives. As Martin Ingram explains, "Domestic relations were thus on the borders of public and private morality in this period-matters to be influenced by exhortation but not ordinarily by the exercise of formal discipline." To say that domestic relations remained outside "formal" discipline is not to say that they were unobserved or unregulated; neighbors and the local community exerted informal control over marriage and domesticity in many ways, including confrontation, shaming rituals, and bringing the offending couple before the justice of the peace for "unquietness." 
A husband's authority over his wife remained legally and morally ambiguous, even if the community's scrutiny constrained him. Since a husband's treatment of his wife remained largely beyond legal regulation, conduct literature appealed to the husband's judgment, urging him to regulate himself. In one of the many discussions of wifebeating in conduct literature, William Gouge suggests that beating one's wife undermines household governance because it opens up a space between the husband and wife, revealing that they are not one flesh, not one legal agent, but two: "Now a wife having no ground to be perswaded that her husband hath authority to beat her, what hope is there that she will patiently beare it, and be bettered by it? Or rather is it not likely that she will if she can, rise against him, over-master him (as many do) and never doe any duty aright?"
The husband's violence threatens to incite a contest for mastery; once the context of violence enables the wife to enter the fray as a combatant, the outcome is uncertain. One account of a wife's reaction to a marital rape, which we might not expect to find recognized as an offense in this period, clearly shows how a wife's subjectivity is constructed as violent, as a choice of her own life over her husband's life. In her examination recorded in A Hellish Murder (I688), Mary Aubrey (or Hobry), a French midwife, describes a history of dissension with her husband because she would not cooperate with him "in Villanies contrary to Nature." 
On the night of the murder, after beating her savagely, "he attempted the Forcing of this Examinate to the most Unnatural of Villanies, and acted such a Violence upon her Body in despite of all the Opposition that she could make, as forc'd from her a great deal of Blood, this Examinate crying out to her Landlady, who was (as she believes) out of distance of hearing her.” When she insists that she cried out, Aubrey employs the strategy of the rape victim, who had to demonstrate that she had made a "hue and cry" and thus had not consented. In presenting Aubrey's compelling testimony about this assault, A Hellish Murder not only suggests limits on a husband's rights to and power over his wife's body but also constructs a subjectivity for Mary Aubrey out of her despair, her sense of grievance, and her determination to escape. 
Aubrey finally demands of her husband, "Am I to lead this Life for ever?" only to receive more threats in response. In asking that question, Mary Aubrey is portrayed as raising a voice and imagining herself as having a life separate from and in conflict with her husband's. By depicting her reaction to abuse and her contemplation of retaliatory violence, this text constitutes Aubrey as a self-conscious, speaking subject. Later, beside her sleeping husband, she thinks "with her self," "What will become of me? What am I to do! Here am I Threatned to be Murder'd, and I have no way in the World to Deliver my self, but by Beginning with him." Aubrey's subjectivity is seen not only as the midwife's deliverance of herself but as a birth that depends on a death. 
"Immediately upon these thoughts," she stoutly undertakes the murder of her husband, strangling and dismembering him, and lugging parts of his body around in her petticoat to dispose of them. Popular accounts of petty treason usually shy away from such risky representation of a wife's conscious articulation of rights that are allied to violence by their very conception. The resulting attempts both to account for the complexities of domestic friction and to achieve some sympathy for the abused wife, while keeping authority vested in the husband, however tyrannous, can verge on the absurd. 
Goodcole describes one "young and tender" wife, who, repenting after administering poison to her "old, peevish," and abusive husband, fruitlessly pleads with him to take an antidote to preserve his life. "Nay thou Strumpet and murderesse," Goodcole reports him as saying, "I will receive no helpe at all but I am resolvd to dye and leave the world, be it for no other cause, but to have thee burnt at a stake for my death." * Although the wife is executed at Smithfield, Goodcole regards the husband, in his spiteful insistence on dying, as the agent. Sarah Elston, in her scaffold confession as recorded in A Warning for Bad Woo (1678), "protested again most seriously, that she never in her life had the least designe or thoughts of killing [her husband], onely it was an unfortunate Accident; and whether it came by a blow from her, or his violent running upon the point of the sizzars as she held them out to defend her self, she could not to this minute certainly tell."
These comic moments reveal how pamphleteers who wish to portray murderous wives as penitent and pitiful must awkwardly scramble to shield them from the imputation of intending to kill, just as they are presented as shielding themselves from blows. To characterize such women as assessing their hopeless situations and deciding to take violent action to escape them, that is, to present them as subjects, is also to remove them from sympathy and to open up disturbing implications about the marital relation of authority and submission. Writers in effect displace responsibility onto the husbands, positioning them as still in charge, even if drunken, violent, and absurdly self-destructive. In representations of domestic conflict in early modem popular culture-ballads, pamphlets, and plays, shaming rituals and jokes- the wife diminishes or usurps her husband's claims to authority as she asserts herself by committing adultery, beating or bossing her husband, or plotting to kill him.
For instance, Arden of Faversham (1592), a play about an actual case of petty treason, can be seen as an extended cuckold joke. Like such jokes, and like popular shaming rituals such as the charivari, the play holds the cuckolded husband responsible for his wife's adultery and insubordination. If the husband and wife become a joint subject at marriage, then, these popular representations seem to suggest, the wife's enlargement into volition, speech, and action necessarily implicates, diminishes, and even eliminates the husband. These popular representations push the logic of coverture to suggest an economy of marital subjectivity that leaves room for only one subject. They constitute the wife as a subject only to the extent that they qualify her husband's claims to subject status by silencing and immobilizing him and casting doubt on his authority and potency. 
The fact that popular accounts of such crimes acknowledge the role of abuse in inciting women to murder challenges assumptions we still have about women's rights within marriage and the monolithic power wives who defied the patriarchy during this period. It also complicates the notion of petty treason by introducing the possibility of tyrannous household government and by suggesting, albeit hesitantly, that there arc some justifications for rebellion. Certainly, contemporary debates about the limits on conscientious submission to civil and domestic authorities have a bearing on relations within the household and the understanding of petty treason. Writers of sermons and conduct books about marriage explicitly include the situation of the godly wife in their considerations of the limits on obedience to earthly authority; they advocate a demanding balance between submission and resistance, silence and good counsel.
In those cases of petty treason that resulted in convictions and made it into print, however, the circumstances in the household did not mitigate the wife's guilt. These women were executed as petty traitors despite their husbands' inadequacies as household governors. Although juries may actually have taken extenuating circumstances into consideration when they deliberated over cases of petty treason, these texts hold the husband responsible as well as depict the execution of the guilty wife; they recognize limits to a husband's power over his wife, yet present a wife's violent resistance as ultimately unjustifiable and destructive of the political order. Popular representations make these contradictions between husbandly authority and wifely submission visible, but they do not resolve them.”
- Frances E. Dolan, “Home-Rebels and House-Traitors: Petty Treason and the Murderous Wife.” in Dangerous Familiars: Representations of Domestic Crime in England, 1550 - 1700
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Of ridiculousness and revolution.
"It is not a war," Enjolras said, vain, haughty. "That is a clear exaggeration."
It's not that the government has ever sided with them, but this time Enjolras really believed they would listen. Rather, he wanted it. But the government saying that they are at war certainly exceeded his expectations. But not those. The others. Those that concerned how violent the State is. Two days. Only two days had passed. Combeferre had told him about three times that they should be on the defensive despite everything, even though this might all seem like a new dawn. He was right, as always, because even Courfeyrac had left his usual gallantry to replace it with Enjolras's everyday gaze: serious, concentrated, as if he didn't stop thinking for a second. It was contagious.
Grantaire observed that sometimes the gaze of a pensive and quiet Enjolras would light up, he would raise his eyebrows and slightly curve his lips, but he did not tell anyone.
"They think this is all ridiculous, or does the revolution have you so trapped that you don't even listen to the news?" Grantaire said with his usual pessimism “I personally think it is too. That's it, a ridiculous thing as big as my-. " He stopped, flashing a mischievous smile. “As big as Hera's breasts. Delicious divine melons."
"I notice." Enjolras said, immediately turning his back on Grantaire.
They were in Bahorel's apartment, which was curiously the most spacious and seemed decorated by his mother, although everyone knew that Bahorel's parents had never set a foot in Paris.
The barricades had started two days ago and the problems continued to mount. The police, the critics and the false revolutionaries who took advantage to steal TVs. Combeferre repudiated them and said “the ignorant steal the intelligentsia." Nobody understood what he meant, but they let it pass by, because it is Combeferre and Combeferre says smart things.
"It's ridiculous that Feuilly has chilblains the size of Zeus's tits or whatever Grantaire said." commented Joly, who was sitting in a chair with legs as high as the bearing of his concerns for the poor Feuilly, who was the only one out there, in the cold winter in front of the barricade fire, who refused to attend the meeting so as not to leave his beloved pile of chairs and tables burning.
"We distinguish ourselves from the others because of that; despite all the ridiculousness we aren't giving up the fight." Enjolras replied, though his frown showed deep concern for his friend with chilblains.
“Dimos formas reales a un fantasma,de la mente ridícula invención,y hecho el ídolo ya, sacrificamos, en su altar nuestro amor.*" Prouvaire's little voice carried through the crowd.
"Who can be Bécquer's idol?" Grantaire said looking at his muse.
"Liberty." answered the muse and his elven companions, Courfeyrac and Combeferre.
"Ridiculous." Joly whispered with a careful laugh.
“You know what else is ridiculous? That the boy, what was his name? Courfeyrac's friend did not bother to come for a single day. " mentioned Bahorel, who already had both arms and part of his chest full of bruises.
"Ay, Bahorel, dear. Marius Pontmercy is very busy with his mistress, a bourgeois virgin, they say. You will tell me when you see her if it is worth skipping a historical event for her, although I cannot say that my dear friend does not have good taste.” Courfeyrac immediately jumped to his friend's rescue, though he himself admitted that Marius was more of a pet than a human being to him. “Speaking of ridiculousness, Lesgle said he'd call us fifteen minutes ago, hasn't it been twenty yet?"
“You shouldn't be surprised by now that M. Eagle de Meaux is doing things late,” someone said, but they all thought the same. As if it were a bad joke, Combeferre's cell phone rang. It was Bossuet:
“I just saw them, they are going in the direction of the barricades. They have a ridiculous amount of trucks and guns. Tell Bahorel to check his contacts again. Two days have passed and there are not enough people yet."
They all jumped into euphoria that they had saved up to this point.
--
Lesgle was right. They are brutal, warlike, as if they wanted to prove to Enjolras that this was indeed a war. It is midnight and the Government has put a curfew, everyone has gone home except Enjolras, Combeferre, Prouvaire, Courfeyrac, Laigle, Joly, Grantaire and a few brave ones left. Combeferre hugs Jehan in a dark corner, Jehan whispers something, a poem in the best of cases. Joly, Bossuet and Grantaire toast in a last attempt at life. Feuilly and Bahorel were arrested, Bahorel blind with one eye still bleeding. And Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Marius (who by the way had arrived with melancholic eyes without giving any explanation) are seated in the first line, Courfeyrac with an arm on the shoulder of each of his companions. There, in the heat of the fire and awaiting a brutal attack, Enjolras delivers his last speech:
"Citizens, after the events that occurred in the last few hours, I have no choice but to compare these with the light of a bullet, of the fire. They will be illuminating. And even if they last a short time, the smoke persists in the air. I think that smoke will be us, the people, because there is no revolution without people and there is no revolution without brotherhood. But there is a violent revolution if violence comes being established from the ancient oppression and, yes, there is revolution if our brothers cry out for help. It will be you who will unleash the bright future, although uncertain. Keep your legs stretched, because they have been stretched out so much that to weaken at this point would be ridiculous. But keep your feet on the ground, the future is uncertain. Be aware of the rose and the pistol, whom you look at with blindfolds. Ridiculous we will be, but history will become a legacy. I invite you, citizens, to fight even if it is ridiculous, to fight for what they call ridiculous to lose that title. But I demand that you do not stay silent if dignity is being kicked on the ground."
*Rima L by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer: We gave real forms to a ghost, of a ridiculous invention of the mind, and already made the idol, we sacrificed our love on his altar.
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whetstonefires · 4 years
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mcu ethics bad
The thing is that, while I was angry at Tony during Age of Ultron, particularly when he rode over Bruce’s compunctions about building a giant combat super-robot and pressured him into the project like a very very bad friend who happened to also be wrong...
...and when he equipped Hulkbuster armor and fought the Hulk in the middle of a city rather than attempting de-escalation or attempting to haul the Hulk out into the giant adjacent desert....
(And my suspension of disbelief snapped like a frayed cable when he brought down a skyscraper that had had no time to be evacuated on a street full of fleeing people and the only reason we were given to believe he hadn’t just cold-bloodedly created massive civilian casualties was that he told his AI to find the impossible magic angle where doing this wouldn’t kill anyone...)
While I was angry with him then, and unspeakably relieved that he recognized his own damage and retired at the end, haha psych, I was revolted by him during Civil War.
It’s supposed to make us sympathize with a character more, spending so much time with them, getting into their heads, being shown their emotional drives and reactions to things, and we spent so much time with Tony during that film, understanding his point of view. And...I did understand him. He’s not complicated. I even sympathized with his emotional state.
But in the context of his actions, throughout the film, I gazed into that understanding the way I did into Kylo Ren’s face in the seconds after he first unmasked. I see you, I know you, everything you are is written here, and the lines of your shame and self-revulsion are so thick upon you, and you should be ashamed but your self-destruction does not expiate or justify one jot of the harm you do.
Because everything Tony did in Civil War came from a place of selfishness. He was selfish all throughout that movie down to his very spine.
And selfishness isn’t itself necessarily bad--you need a little, to get through life, you have the right to your own portion of it. Your boundaries and your needs. But the type of selfishness that is forcing other people pay dearly for your emotional comfort and sense of control: no.
That is tyranny. That is not acceptable.
And you know how I know he was being selfish? Because his motive for pushing the Sokovia Accords was his personal guilt for the destruction of Sokovia.
But the Accords didn’t address that at all! They were tangential to the issue! None of the terms of the Accords would have saved Sokovia--in fact, the existence of them could easily have prevented the evacuation and harm-reduction the Avengers managed there, without saving a single soul.
The Ultron crisis was something Tony did, not as Iron Man but as Tony Stark, with Bruce Banner’s help, and which Wanda as criminal fugitive later helped exacerbate, and which all the other Avengers were involved in only to mitigate harm.
Legislation, or...treaties, idk, the UN isn’t actually empowered to pass laws so who knows what this thing was...aimed at preventing another Sokovia would mandate constant ethical oversight of billionaire science man’s mad science. At the very least! He never has to run things by ethics boards because he’s self-funded, at the very least let’s invent a mechanism to make up for that.
That would address the actual Sokovia issue, both in terms of risks and in terms of Tony’s personal guilt feelings.
But no one suggests that! It’s not even on the table! Because no one, certainly not any government, can tell Tony Stark what to do unless he lets them, that’s been a clear matter of record since Iron Man 2.
And because no one writing this legal instrument of whatever description was actually motivated by wanting to avoid another Sokovia, or even another ‘Wanda tries to neutralize a suicide bomber but merely gives him a different, smaller victim pool’ incident.
They didn’t care! They blatantly didn’t care! The entire thing was a ghoulish use of the dead to gain enough political leverage over the Avengers to put a leash on them!
(Which might not be a bad thing in principle, everything needs its checks, but when the last quasi-governmental organization you worked for turned out to be Nazis who were only prevented from staging a mass slaughter of undesireables by the skin of your teeth, I think you’re well within your rights to be very choosy about who you agree to obey, and to be firmly against pledging your honor to follow people whose first move was dishonest coercive tactics.
Actually you’re well within your rights to demand to negotiate the terms of even a much less sweeping contract, even without the Nazis. The whole approach to this thing stank to high heaven.
The fact that it was written by the UN like a treaty, expected to be signed by private individuals like a contract, and then enforced like a law except not because 1) laws are for everyone 2) if you break a law you get a trial not extrajudicial incarceration and 3) being pressured to consent to a restriction and then punished for refusing consent is hypocritical circular logic and in fact police corruption at its finest, all continues to show it was a bullshit nonsense franken-document.)
The whole movie is people ghoulishly using the dead to manipulate Tony into making bad decisions in response to his emotional pain. That’s. The plot of the film.
Then Zemo staged T’Chaka’s assassination and framed Bucky for it to raise the tension, ramp up the pressure, and prevent any sitting-down and talking reasonably through this, which might have allowed for the recognition of how extremely bullshit the entire concept was.
Tony was being used. Tony was a tool of bad people for most of that movie, and while Zemo banked on using his wrath for it, the politicos were leaning on his guilt.
And there’s honestly little I hold in deeper scorn than going out and hurting other people to assuage your own guilt and treating this as having the moral high ground. No. You don’t have the moral high ground on account of your guilt motivation. You have it if the actions you took were just, or at least could reasonably be assumed to have been so at the time.
And Tony fucking knew they weren’t. He didn’t even last to the end of the movie before recognizing that he’d been manipulated and fucked up, and doubling back.
That he then walked into a different manipulation, turned on a dime, and had to be stopped from doing a murder doesn’t unwrite that.
And it drives me nuts that people will say Tony was acting out of principle while Steve was acting out of personal attachment. Because sure, the Bucky thing was important, was the reason he was walking forward against all opposition instead of standing still to argue, but it wasn’t the reason Steve said no, while...
Tony wasn’t acting out of principle. Tony isn’t...very good at having principles. That’s not even a criticism or condemnation, it’s just how he functions. Since Iron Man he’s been substituting good intentions and emotional investment, which has worked out to varying degrees. It works best for huge, difficult, very straightforward decisions like ‘ride the nuke through the portal and save my hometown.’ It works less well for nuanced situations.
Tony was, as usual, acting out of emotion. And some awful shitheads who’d figured out where his levers were had calculated how to jiggle his emotion switches in the right places to make him do exactly what they wanted.
And you can tell he wasn’t acting out of principle because, for example, someone who was trying to get the superhero community under outside control for the sake of harm mitigation...
...well, firstly wouldn’t have chosen to stage a massive battle? But it’s possible someone in the UN specifically told him to do that, and in theory they at the very least signed off on it, presumably for its PR value of making Captain America look deranged and violent since it’s a deranged decision from every other angle, so yay, he can pass that responsibility up the chain and not have to angst about it, as promised.
But I was going to say would not have approached a minor who (this timeline takes pains to show us) had no prior experience of battle or even, somehow, serious violent crime, to recruit him to go be a government child soldier on another continent, without his guardian’s knowledge or consent. There were overtones of blackmail in Tony’s approach, before it turned out Peter was such a big fan he didn’t need that. What the fuck frankly.
That is not the action of someone who wants to start doing things by the letter, scaling the violence down, keeping within the law and putting the power of decisionmaking in other people’s hands because he’s realized he can’t trust his own.
And frankly even if he did act like that I wouldn’t necessarily support his choices, in particular his snap decision to behave coercively toward other Avengers with vastly less social power and security than he has.
And that’s the other thing! Everything about ‘Tony + Accords BFFs’ rings so hollow because he has never thought rules applied to him, and he knows perfectly well the entire time he’s fighting to force this surrender of agency down other people’s throats that he is going to be practically immune.
This man was technically a terrorist, proabably the most prolific single terrorist in world history until his rogue android exceeded his body count, but he was immune to prosecution because he was in tight with the United States military-industrial complex and basically untouchable due to his status within capitalism, and pursuing their international goals anyway. In the time between Iron Man and Iron Man II he was basically a one-man upgrade of the US drone program, and so good at it that the crest of blood he carved through the Middle East allowed him to announce he had ‘privatized world peace.’
(You are never going to get a world peace worth anything on the basis of a giant flying gun, okay.)
He went to war as a private individual, against non-state actors who were not directly threatening him, which is very much defined as ‘mass murder’ in all domestic and international law, and the US army in response sued him for control of his weapon. And lost! Lost.
No one attempted to press charges. No one. Because Tony Stark is above all that. And he knows it.
And like. I’m willing to accept the mass murder under the heading of ‘superheroing’ within the terms of this setting! Even if, after his vengeance rampage on his specific kidnappers, this violence was kept strictly off-screen for a reason. I did that! I bent that far! Genre convention!
But this history is kind of vitally important to any analysis of what he thought he was doing, and what he actually was doing, when he decided to become the iron gauntlet of the Sokovia Accords.
The currently active member of the Avengers who needed muzzling most was very manifestly Iron Man, and he knew even as he jammed the muzzle on all his comrades to make himself feel better that it would affect him the least, even if he didn’t finally retire for real this time. You don’t force Tony Stark. Not if you want anything out of it but blown up. You persuade him.
And once you have...oh, look at what he can do.
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coeurdastronaute · 3 years
Text
The Story, Ch. 2
Previously on The Story
June was hot, thick with stagnant heat that refused to rustle or move the tiniest branch of a tree nor leaf on a stem. Hotter than any other summer that she could remember, Jamie toiled daily on her garden and the grounds, lugging water to and fro, nurturing the seedlings in the greenhouse, fretting over the last bits of her bountiful spring bloom and hoping to survive until the first cooling summer storm. It was tough work, all-encompassing work, and she’d learned a little late in her life, how important it was to keep busy. 
Never one to understand or listen to the story beneath the sound, Jamie missed the subtle changes that had undertaken the manor. Too preoccupied and exhausted from her battle with the sun and the dirt and the grounds itself, she hadn’t given another thought to how often her glances looked back toward the house, nor did she think twice about how she migrated around her duties, following the laughter of the children closer than ever before. Unaware of so much of her movements, her head stuck in the dirt and her hands tangled in the safety of the roots, Jamie was somewhat aware of the fact that she had not spoken, at least not directly or alone, with the au pair since their very first conversation. That was done with such purpose that she spent a large portion of the day willing it to both happen and un-happen. 
But things changed in their sullen existence. Homemade decorations littered the stairs and railings while entire science experiments meant trousers rolled up to ankles and wading in the fountain. The curriculum changed with the feeling of the day, and when school was over, the children were happy to take to learning the finer points of housework, turned into games by the crafty au pair who understood how important such things were. Slowly, the gravity fo the grounds shifted from the chaotic mess left behind with such glaring absences. 
Like all features at Bly, Jamie knew that the au pair was a novelty and would soon become not unlike the furniture or the statues. She would become innate to the property, just as Owen and Hannah and herself had, she would be usual and familiar and it would pass, Jamie promised herself, unpracticed in physics as she was.  
But the addition of the au pair had changed the manor, and in part, had changed many of those left within its universe. Where before there was cold and silence in the absence of the parents of the orphaned children, now nights brimmed with laughter and games, where plays were acted out by the entire cast, and learning was hands on, often out of the classroom and with the help of the rest of the staff. There was this community that popped up, a kinship among those who remained, all loosely tied together by the newest addition. 
It was all so sorely needed after the last au pair and the exceeding tragedy that plagued the beautiful land. 
It was hard not to want to be part of the liveliness of the manor now. Jamie found herself peaking over hedges to find the au pair reading books as the children drifted and lazed in the grass, and she too, listened to the words and gentle voice, her trimming slowing as a result. And clearly the children were taken with Dani, with Flora becoming much like a shadow, following her about, weaving her dolls and flowers for her hair. Miles became less despondent, though not enough for the au pair’s opinion. Still prone to their bouts of melancholy, it felt as if they returned to being children again sometimes. 
Unlike before, Jamie didn’t leave without stopping into the house to see if she might get accidently pulled into an adventure. Before, she would leave without much more than a honk or a wave. But the heat made her shoes stick to the grounds that much more despite the growing exhaustion. 
There was something about staying that made Jamie uneasy. It wasn’t in her composition to remain and attach. 
“It has to break soon,” Jamie sighed to herself as she pressed a sweating glass against her neck. The chill lasted a moment and that was all, gone in an instant. 
“I’ve got ever window open in the house and there hasn’t been so much as a breeze in a week,” Hannah shook her head and continued the slow, gentle fanning of herself. 
The ice adjusted, breaking apart and clinking in a glass. 
“There’s not much more I can do to save the lawn on the south side. It’s getting burnt. It’ll take ages for it to bounce back if we that rain doesn’t hurry.” 
“But the produce has been otherworldly,” Owen offered happily. “What you’ve been harvesting has blown my mind. I haven’t seen such bounty. At least I could never manage it.” 
“I don’t know if it’s saying much then if that’s the comparison.” 
“Laugh at my expense, but it’s true. I’ll gladly trade the lawn for those carrots.” 
“What about you, Hannah, eh? An afternoon of rain or larger heads of cauliflower?” 
“I get more than enough veg, thank you. Owen, you’re looney if you think a breeze isn’t worth every pea in her garden.” 
“I never claimed to be any different,” he grinned before taking a sip of his drink. 
The patio hummed with the crickets and heat so that even their words were too much hot air, and perhaps unwelcomed in the perfect summer evening. It was late, well after sundown, and yet the employees earned a certain run of the place as their own home after dark, when the semblance of adults could be disbanded. 
The two prattled back and forth, much to Jamie’s amusement. The absurdity of how blind they both were, or perhaps Hannah’s staunch refusal for no reason at all didn’t much make sense to the gardener. It wouldn’t be right for someone like Hannah to refuse happiness-- someone who deserved it so completely. Jamie couldn’t understand that choice. 
“There she is, welcome, welcome,” Owen greeted the au pair as she made her way onto the patio. 
The light from inside glowed against her, and Jamie could see the sweat on her neck and the wet ends of her hair that escaped an incredibly high and incredibly tight pony tail. She smiled into her drink at just the thought of it. 
“Still having trouble getting to sleep are they?” Hannah asked as Dani took a seat at the small table of friends. “The heat isn’t kind to them.” 
“Thank you,” she nodded and took a heavy gulp before she winced at the alcohol content she hadn’t been expecting. “They are just so uncomfortable. I don’t even know what to do.” 
“Put them outside,” Jamie offered before three faced turned towards hers. “What? You’ve never slept outside before?” 
Two of the three shook their heads, while Owen perked up excitedly.
“We’ll sort them out tomorrow, don’t worry, Poppins.” 
“I’m willing to try anything at this point. You should have seen Miles’ face when I told him to just sleep in his underwear.”
There was laughter among the group, and across the table, Jamie watched the au pair more curiously than she ever had before. In the faint glow of the evening, she shamelessly stared, observing the interactions, slunk back in her chair and disinterested with much else. 
There’s always been a distance to them that the few feet that separated them now seemed too little, and such an easy stretch to cross. The gardener had seen the au pair in the yard with the children, running and climbing and playing in the sun, her blonde hair whipping around in a swirl as she moved quickly. The gardener had seen the au pair on the terrace, reading in the shade in those damned shorts and her pale skin practically glowing. They shared meals together, but always at polar ends, directly missing each other.
But never had the gardener so unabashedly stared at the newest addition to the trio, or rather the finishing piece of their quartet. She chalked it up to curiosity, because never before had she been so close to an American with a smile like that, or rather, never before had she been close to a smile like that or an American. 
Even when Dani met her glance, Jamie didn’t look away, but rather wondered more about the stranger before her. 
“I thought I was escaping the heat,” Dani shook her head as the company drew toward the end of their drinks. “This is worse than I could have imagined.” 
“It’ll break soon,” Jamie repeated with a bit more assurance. 
“You can’t listen to Jamie’s superstitions,” Hannah shook her head. “She thinks her flowers whisper to her.” 
“That sounds a bit mental. I’d never say that. But it is going to break. You can feel it.” 
“I never would have thought to accuse you of reckless hope,” Owen teased. 
“And you never should,” Jamie said as she stood, finishing her drink. “But the trees are dry and the creeks are hard. It’ll break because it always does.” 
“Got a timeline on that?” Dani asked, looking up at the body in the dark. 
“Sadly, I don’t,” she sighed. “But I believe in the rain.” 
As Hannah and Owen debated the weather and belief, the gardener smiled at Dani and nodded her good night. 
“I’ll see you lot tomorrow. I reckon it might be time for a camp out.” 
Dani smiled, cradling the glass to her neck and cheek. Jamie didn’t look away. The worst of it was, she hadn’t seemed to decide on anything at all. Her mouth just moved and now she was stuck. 
XXXXXXXXXX
“It doesn’t seem safe,” Miles complained as he helped lug an armful of bedding. 
“It’s perfectly safe. It’s not like you have to worry about anyone walking around the property,” Dani promised. “It’s just like being at a campground or in the middle of the woods, except much closer to the bathroom.” 
“We’ve never been properly camping before,” Flora announced. “We did sleep in the living room a few times, and tell stories, and drank cocoa.” 
“Well camping is supposed to be fun.” 
“Supposed to be?” 
“I’ve never gone either,” she shrugged, wiping the sweat from her brow. “But I’ll do anything to avoid the heat.” 
“It’s the same temperature outside as inside,” the little boy reminded the group as he tossed his pillow down on one of the carefully placed bedrolls, foraged from the deepest recesses of the garage attic. 
“It’ll chill come evening,” the au pair promised. “I never thought you’d be afraid of a little adventure.” 
“I don’t mind adventure, but I mind the mosquitos.” 
“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”
“It’s absolutely splendid, isn’t it, Ms. Clayton?” Flora brimmed as she spun around the camp on the back lawn.
With a surprising show inf ingenuity, it was true that the gardener with help from the chef, had transformed a spot beneath the hornbeam trees into a safari. The fire was already crackling to life as the children finished their last load of blankets, the beds were pallets and the chairs were from the patio, but the true gift was the open-faced tent, hung between a few branches of the wide tree so that the open wall faced the fire and the house. 
“It’s better than I could have imagined,” Dani agreed, smiling as she surveyed the set up until she found the person responsible and softened. “It looks amazing.” 
When Jamie made the suggestion, the au pair hadn’t really considered it happening, but when she showed up the following day ready to do it, enlisting Owen and even Hannah in some ways, Dani didn’t think twice about joining the event. 
“Just a bit of ingenuity and fierce, god-like strength,” Jamie winked, flexing a bit before grinning. “And Owen.” 
“It’s nothing,” the chef promised as he checked the sturdiness of his work. “I was a Scout Explorer. Fifteen years worth of survival and outdoor training with a healthy dose of community service.”
“And what was your reason for being so outdoorsy?” Dani turned to Jamie as she teased Miles’ shoulder, making him look. 
“Oh, I was raised by wolves,” Jamie explained, quite seriously, earning a look from the smallest of the party. “True story. Walked on all fours until I was older than you, Flora. Used to be able to talk to them, but it’s been so long.” 
“That didn’t happen,” Miles shook his head. 
“If you ever run into a pack of wolves, just say you know me.” 
He rolled his eyes but thought it over to himself as Dani accepted a drink from Hannah and took a seat, the hard work of setting up complete and the night working its way to them. 
It might have been psychological, or it might have been the fire, but the evening did seem to get cooler. It wasn’t a blustery winter by any means, but it felt tenable for the first time in too many days. 
For Dani, the best kind of moments were when the children were just that, giggly and smiling, living loudly and with exteriority. When Miles would flash a smile, absolutely smitten with everything Owen was telling him about knots and pocket knives and his own adventures in the woods as a boy. When Flora would lean against the side of the au pair’s leg and pat her knee excitedly as she had to get close to speak so quickly about how important it was to not burn the marshmallows. She could love them better, she believed. It didn’t seem an impossible task sometimes. 
For a second, she also lost herself in the magic of the evening. As Flora and Miles chased lightning bugs through the field, exhausting themselves after dinner, and Dani found herself in the company of who were quickly becoming what she might refer to as friends. The three caretakers of the manor and its inhabitants, slightly more willing to stay later for a moment like this as well. 
Three s’mores and four stories later, the late hour did it’s best to win out over the young campers. Huddled around the fire, they covered up and listened attentively as the gardener wove a wild story. Dani sat across, her legs stretched out and feet near the fire while Hannah held a bottle tightly beside her before carefully re-filling their cups. 
“I almost hate to admit what a good idea this is,” Hannah chuckled before re-corking their bottle as she sat it on the ground. “But they certainly are enjoying themselves.”
“It means a lot to them, for you all to be here and so interested. They don’t know it yet, but they will one day,” Dani nodded, looking over the flickering flames as Miles adjusted, pulling up the blanket, completely engrossed in the story. 
“I couldn’t be anywhere else. I’ve been with this family for… goodness, it’s been my whole life it seems.” 
“Still, you chose to stay. That means something.” 
“I’m not sure what, exactly,” the housekeeper sighed. 
“Love. Loyalty.” 
Dani watched a small smile creep into Hannah’s cheeks as she stared at the gardener, but didn’t hear a thing, so deep in thought was the housekeeper suddenly that she disappeared, or so it seemed. 
Jamie kept talking though, her story winding its way this way and that, hoping to be long enough to tire out the children. Her voice was growing lower to persuade them, and in just a few minutes, Flora fell asleep, her cheek pressed against the gardener’s chest, a blanket wrapped over them both. Dani wasn’t sure when she began to smile at the scene, only that she was and Hannah watched her take a drink to hide it. 
“The night we found out about the Wingraves, she spent the entire evening playing with them. When I got the call, I didn’t know how to say it, so we waited for their uncle to come tell them, and I remember Jamie watching them run up and down the stairs, playing some made up game that we couldn’t understand. And she was the one who made us wait. Let them be kids who have parents for just another hour, she told me. Another hour.”
Miles stretched slightly, his arm dipping until his head was on the pillow. 
“I’m sorry for the loss,” Dani offered as Hannah looked away from a sleeping Flora. 
“They’re adapting. Somehow.” 
“You all are helping, you know that, don’t you?” 
“Sometimes I’m not sure, but then I look at that,” Hannah nudged her chin at the sleeping children, at Jamie not bothering to move Flora, but holding her tight. “And I know that even in the most inopportune environment, even something kind and loyal and loving can emerge, whether they know it or not.” 
“What happened?” 
“She ended up here somehow,” she sighed and took another drink before standing. “Let me help you, dear. Don’t want to wake her after finally getting her to sleep.” 
Dani didn’t move as she watched the careful task of detaching Flora and tucking her in safely, all in hopes of not having to tell another story to put her back to sleep. The au pair watched Jamie’s movements with a keener eye. She traced the outline of her jaw and cheeks, saw neck and clavicle when the flannel she’d brought slipped down a shoulder with the movements, as if something, some tick, could explain everything that seemed to be an impenetrable fort. 
“And with that, I’ve had enough nature,” Hannah decided. “I’m going inside to my bed.”
“Booooo,” the other adults teased. 
“I’m too old for sleeping in the dirt, and so are you lot. We’ll see who is in better shape in the morning.” 
“I’ll, uh,” Owen stood, patting off his pants. “I’ll walk  you in. Grab some more water for us.” 
“I know the way.” 
“Good, you can help me find the kitchen.” 
With a wave, they moved back toward the house, their lanterns swinging as they reached the door. Across from her, Jamie took to a chair, electing to stretch after sitting on the hard ground and beneath another human, tiny as she was, for so long. 
“I swear my arse went flat sitting there all night,” she mumbled, picking up the bottle Hannah had left behind. “Gardener by day, lawn chair by night.”
“I don’t think I’m as good with flowers as you are with them.” 
“No worries about me pilfering your job, Poppins. I find them exhausting and they are quite taken with you.” 
There was a fondness hidden beneath the feigned annoyance as Jamie surveyed their sleeping forms, resting comfortably with the fire flickering light into the tent. 
“They like you.” 
“What’s not to like? I’m quite a stirring specimen. And I make a damn fine s’more.” 
Dani couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she stood and meandered toward a chair, the stiffness that Hannah warned about nestling into her joints until she was certain she’d be locked in the seated position forever. 
“You’re not going to abandon me out here with them are you?” 
To her credit, Jamie considered it before tossing a lopsided smile toward the au pair who joined her. 
“It was my idea to sleep outside, wasn’t it? Can’t miss this. Plus,” she paused to finish her glass of whiskey. “I’ve been drinking. Not too safe to drive.” 
“I feel like I should thank you again for all of this. It’s… it’s amazing.” 
The stars were bright, unburdened with any rules of order, scattered throughout to the horizon and tree tops. The fire glowed but did not dim them at all, merely enhanced by attempting to add its own embers into the heavens, offering the sacrifice for permanent consideration, though none made it that far. 
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing anything else. I’ve had worse nights than a campfire and half-decent company.” 
“I’ll take half-decent.” 
“Oh, yeah… uh, I was talking about them,” Jame furrowed as she looked toward the sleeping children. “Juries still out on you.” 
“I’ve been known to be a good time,” Dani promised. 
Despite the teasing, Jame tilted her chin to appraise the au pair in the firelight, as if trying to discern if the statement was actually true. She cocked her head to the side as Dani readjusted, becoming oddly self-conscious of the look. A little nervous, she sipped her drink and winced against the burn. 
“I might be inclined to believe you, except you ended up here, same as us, and I’m not sure anyone here knows how to be a good time.” 
“I don’t know. You put all of this together.”
“A rare flash of brilliance,” Jamie shrugged. “We’ve been dying to know what brought you here, you know?”
“I’m that interesting?” 
“New, maybe. Interesting is to be determined.” 
Dani smiled into her cup, her body constricting tightly into itself as she was forced to think about things she’d hoped to forget. 
“But you don’t have to share,” Jamie added quickly, feeling the shift in the mood of the night. It was far too lovely out and the au pair was far too pretty sitting there, politely looking for a way out. “Doesn’t matter how, just that you got here. In my experience, it’s a bit of ill-fate that brings anyone here. Hannah and the cheating husband. Owen and the sick mother.”
“You, and the love of plants?” 
“Yeah,” she grunted. “Me and my curse for growing things.”
Jame ran her thumb along her cup before turning back to the au pair beside her. She wasn’t fond, suddenly, of upsetting her, and she didn’t want the conversation to end because unlike most others, she was incredibly invested in simply hearing Dani’s voice.  
“And me,” Dani decided, stiffening her spine a little with a deep breath, “Running away from everything back home because I just…” she looked at Jamie, willing her to understand how cowardly and weak she felt. “Couldn’t handle the pain anymore.” 
Her glance was strong, was inquisitive and kind, and Dani looked away from the warmth it offered. 
“You don’t have to run anymore. And you don’t have to have anymore pain.” 
It was an oddly comforting option and perhaps promise, Dani realized, one that she knew Jamie was in no place to give, but still she did, and for the first time, despite all of the people at the funeral and the hospital and in her life who let her off the hook, or at least thought they did, she felt as if she might be able to finally do it. 
Jamie’s hand was warm in her knee where it gave a squeeze, but did not let go, resting there as the gardener moved her head, twisting to be in the au pair’s view. Dani looked at her and couldn’t help but smile slightly. 
“I know you’re not alright. That’s okay, too. You don’t have to be yet.” 
Simultaneously, the weight grew and shrunk on her chest, but Dani relaxed at the feeling of it all. 
“I’m around, you know? Not really the best at talking, but I’ve got ears that occasionally work.” Dani couldn’t help but chuckle. “There it is, Poppins. No sense in having a pretty girl upset. It’s probably the greatest sin around.” 
“The greatest?” she scoffed, clearing her throat as the hand on her knee was retracted. 
“I haven’t been to church in a while,” Jamie confessed. 
“I couldn’t tell.”
“That’s what happens when you’re raised by wolves.” 
Once again, she filled up the cups, and Dani felt the gardener relax slightly beside her. She found herself envious of the apparent ease with which she moved through life. 
“I almost believe you.” 
There was another grin, lopsided and knowing. It was oddly frustrating, to feel so bare and understood by someone who was unreadable, but Dani challenged her before taking a drink. 
“Wolves don’t have to howl in the night and live in the forests or have fangs and claws.” Jamie paused and swirled around her drink. She looked up to see the lantern of their third returning. “Sometimes they wear suits and work at the bank or a department store, and they find a weakling and they do what wolves do. Suit or fangs, there isn’t much difference. I was raised by wolves.”
Dani didn’t register Owen’s return. She looked at Jamie who refused to look at her, but rather smiled as the chef sat down, prepared to tease him incredibly for his display with the housekeeper. But the au pair was struck with the first thickly veiled, but honest moment she might have ever had with the stranger beside her. She wanted more. She wanted to press and learn what it all meant, not the story, not the tale of it, the fiction and flowers and metaphors. But she found it was enough for the moment. 
“I found out why Poppins is at the Manor,” Jamie announced proudly as she tossed Owen the bottle. “She robbed a bunch of banks.” 
“I think she might be pulling your leg,” he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem the type to care about money.” 
“She did it for the thrill. She’s mad. Hide the silver.” 
“Don’t tell people that,” Dani scolded, hitting Jamie’s arm. “I’m just a teacher.” 
“A notoriously underpaid lot. She definitely did it for the money. Owed huge gambling debts. I don’t know what to tell you, Owen,” Jamie shrugged. “That’s the truth.” 
“Please don’t believe her.” 
“I hardly ever do,” he promised. 
NEXT
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official-weasley · 3 years
Text
The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 6
PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 6 - Christmas Weasley
Nova
It was the last week of October and I think it's safe to say that we finally got used to doing homework and all the professors. Tulip and I are proud to say that it has been 13 days since we last got lost on our way to lessons.
Now that we went through all the subjects a couple of times and it feels more real since we don't have any more introductions in classes, I have to say that I was surprised how well I was doing in Charms. When we did the Levitation Charm I was the first to get the feather flying almost to the ceiling. I also managed to cast Lumos on my first try and so far have been so good that I've earned Ravenclaw 35 points in just that class.
Tulip wasn't doing that bad in Charms either, even though she was beating us all in Astronomy, for which we later found out that her uncle is an Astronomer and has been teaching her since she was 5.
Penny, of course, was exceeding in Potions, something not even Snape could deny. She knew the answer to every one of his questions and when we finally had to brew our first potion, she had to help all three of us not to blow up half of the Dungeons.
History of Magic was still as dull as ever, something even Penny couldn't deny as Tonks told us one day, having dinner, that she was drooling on her notes, after falling asleep in the middle of the lesson. Penny denied the accusation and said that she was just resting her head because she stayed up all night working on her Transfiguration homework.
Speaking of Transfiguration, it is by far my favorite subject! I had no idea how I will do in the class and what exactly was expected from us as every time I saw Professor McGonagall she seemed so strict. I wasn't wrong about that as she gave detention to Tulip the first time she came in class 5 minutes late because she was confident she could find the classroom on her own and get one more piece of toast instead of going with me.
Because I was one of the first to arrive in class, I sat down in the second row on the right side and after a couple of Gryffindors came in I spotted the redhead immediately.
“Nova! I forgot we had this class together!” Charlie sat next to me without even asking if the seat was taken.
“Isn't Jae going to be mad if you don't sit next to him?” I knew now that the boy Charlie was spending the most time with was Jae Kim, a fellow First Year with whom Charlie also shared his dormitory. It was getting quite annoying sending notes across class to each other in subjects we had together so I didn't mind Charlie sitting next to me.
Besides, I wanted to prove to Tulip that she should've gone with me to class.
“Nah, we can't be together all the time and besides I want to spend more time with you.” He grinned at me. “And if it happens that you're good at Transfiguration I can benefit from it as well.” He was taking a couple of pieces of parchment out of his bag.
Perhaps Charlie was going to be great at Divination if he decides to take the subject as I was indeed amazing in Transfiguration. At first, I thought I was just lucky when I transfigured a matchstick into a needle perfectly. Then it also happened with the quill which was in perfect condition transformed from a fork.
Charlie was in awe at first and was excited that I was going to be the one who helps him with his Transfiguration homework. Much to his and Tulip's disappointment, I've made them do the homework in the Library on their own. However, I was with them all the time and I did check and correct it when they were done with it.
After I also cast Revelio correctly on my second try, Professor McGonagall made me stay after class one day to talk about having Advanced Classes in my Second Year if my talent would continue to grow. I accepted at once and I couldn't wait to tell my mum as Transfiguration was one of her favorite subjects as well.
We didn't do any practical magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts yet, but we have learned about a lot of dangerous creatures which Charlie and I always discussed after class.
The day after the 'slug incident' as Tulip liked to call it, I woke up very early as I kept thinking about how I have to finish my drawing of Pip. I decided to get out of bed and go down for breakfast alone. I knew I could bring Pip with me so I thought I could finish the drawing while munching on my toast.
I went to the Owlery and for the first time, I had to actually wake Pip up and he wasn't so happy to see me as he wished to sleep for a little while longer. Nonetheless, he gave in to my strokes on his head and hopped on my arm. Together we made way to the Great Hall which was practically deserted except for a couple of Ravenclaws that were half asleep and looked like they were studying for their O.W.L.s.
I put some jelly on my toast and opened my notebook.
“Now, where were we Pip?” I took out one of my pencils. I started working on the feathers again and was quite happy with the progress I was able to make since Pip was too tired to peek at his portrait.
“Good morning, Nova.” I heard a really sleepy voice say behind me.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” Charlie asked, sitting down before I could even answer him. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw what a mess his red hair was.
“Good morning. What are you doing up already?” I helped myself to another piece of toast, while Pip was trying to get some of the crumbs left behind from my last one.
“We got a lot of homework yesterday by Professor Snape and I better get on it before I forget.” He shuffled a few spoons of cereal into his bowl. “Name and describe seven differences between the Wiggenweld Potion and Blood Replenishing Pooo...tion.” He yawned.
“Seven differences, what did you do to Snape?” I gasped.
“How did you know we managed to destroy a cauldron?” He poured milk over his cereal now.
“I didn't, I just thought you had to do something wrong since we only got three differences.” I put more jelly on my toast as I decided one thick layer wasn't enough. “And how did you manage to destroy a cauldron on your first lesson? We weren't even working with them?”
“Well, one of the Slytherins wanted to show off by performing the Fire Making Charm under the cauldron and it exploded.”
“A cauldron exploded, where?” Penny interrupted my laughing. She had a concerned look on her face. She was followed by Tonks who looked as if Penny woke her up so abruptly that she will never recover.
They didn't even sit down properly when Tulip came running to our table, panting.
“I...thought...I...missed...breakfast.” She said, trying to catch her breath.
“Tulip you have got to get a watch.” Penny chuckled.
“And who is this red-haired laddie?” Tonks reminded me that I haven't introduced Charlie to them yet.
“Oh, right! Sorry, Charlie. Tonks, Tulip, Penny this is Charlie. The boy I told you about yesterday. Charlie this are Tonks, Tulip and Penny.”
“Nice to meet you!” They exclaimed as they each shook his hand.
“Do you mind if he seats with us?” I asked, not knowing if they would be bothered by having breakfast with a boy.
“Get off it! He's one of us now.” Said Tonks while stuffing a huge piece of toast in her mouth. Charlie couldn't help but blush a little.
“Say, Charlie, Penny is really good at potions, perhaps she can help you with your homework.” I said while trying to make Pip, now completely awake, to be still.
“Homework, Potions homework?! What do you need?” Penny was so excited about what I just said that I thought she was going to scare Charlie away from our table.
He just chuckled and told her all about the cauldron, for which of course she scolded him as if it was his fault and then helped him with his homework so much that he was done before the beginning of the first class.
On Halloween, the girls and I decided to visit Hagrid and take him up on his offer of rock cakes and tea. We loved how beautiful the whole school was, now decorated in candles, spider webs and there were pumpkins everywhere.
We made our way down to Hagrid's hut, announced of course, with a letter Pip took to Hagrid one day prior. Hagrid was delighted that we were going to visit him and told us to come down after breakfast. Even though it was Wednesday, the lessons were canceled for the Halloween celebration which was happening at dinner.
Once Hagrid's hut was visible, we could see he has decorated it with webs and there were pumpkin patches all around it.
We knocked on his door and could hear a bark, which could only have come from a really small puppy. When Hagrid opened the door, a soft grin on his face, Penny got knocked down to the floor by Fang to which we got introduced after we helped Penny get up.
We promised ourselves not to say anything about Hagrid's rock cakes as indeed they were hard as rocks and kept making excuses that we have to save ourselves for dinner. Tea, however, we didn't mind and we drank about 5 kettles of it. Hagrid told us all about why he is living on the Grounds and he couldn't stop saying nice things about our Headmaster Dumbledore as he was very grateful for the position he gave him at the school.
It was almost time for the dinner celebration in the Great Hall when I had to wake Fang, who fell asleep on my lap because I couldn't stop scratching him behind his ear. He got off me not very happy about it and we thanked Hagrid for the tea and the cakes and ran up to our Houses to change, our stomachs growling as we didn't eat much at Hagrid's.
The feast was even greater than the one we had on our first day at Hogwarts. Of course, Tulip and I were a bit bummed as Tonks and Penny couldn't join us. For bigger celebrations and events, students had to sit at their House Table.
When the feast officially ended and a lot of students left the Great Hall we could finally be joined again. Charlie also sat down next to me, looking a bit blue.
“What's wrong, Charlie?” I asked while Tonks was still nibbling on a chicken leg.
“It's my birthday in December and this is going to be the first time I spend it on my own. Of course, I have my brother Bill...”
“And us!” Penny interrupted him. I could already see her planning a birthday party for him.
“Wait, your birthday is in December?” I finally looked away from Penny's cheering face.
“Yeah, why?” Said Charlie a bit cheered up.
“My birthday's in December too. When exactly is yours?” I asked.
“The 12th.” Charlie said surprised.
“Hers is on the 14th!” Penny showed excitement for me.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! You two can celebrate birthdays together!” Said Tulip, mimicking Penny. I chuckled as I knew she was only doing so to mock her.
“Wicked, I would love to!” We were all so excited that Charlie completely forgot he was sad about not having his family here for his birthday.
“Why don't we go down to Hagrid's and celebrate there?”
“Oh, that's a great idea, Tonks! Nobody will bother us and we can have some of Hagrid's delicious tea.” Penny applauded Tonks.
“You guys are friends with Hagrid as well?” Charlie beamed.
“We just met him today officially but he is amazing and so nice. How do you know him?” I said while putting the finishing touches on my Pip portrait.
“Oh, I have been going there since the first week. Ever since I saw he has a puppy. How adorable is Fang?” We all nodded in agreement. “And he is giving me all these amazing books about animals and he promised me to take me into the Forbidden Forest next year. I keep trying to persuade him to take me this year but he reckons I'm too young and we could both get in trouble.” Charlie sighed.
“That settles it then.” Penny said slowly as I could see she was debating in her head why would anyone in their right mind want to go to the Forbidden Forest of their own free will. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get Charlie alone to ask him to owl me as soon as Hagrid agrees to take him, as I would love to join them.
“We just have to figure out how to bring some of our own food, since Hagrid's rock cakes aren't the best to, well, chew on.” Charlie clutched his lips as if his teeth were still hurting from biting into Hagrid's cakes. We all chuckled in agreement.
“I think Tonks and I can handle that one.” Said Tulip proudly.
I scribbled a message for Hagrid on a piece of parchment and gave it to Pip. However, he refused to go before I showed him his portrait.
“Alright, alright. Here you go.” I turned the notebook to him. He tilted his head for almost 90 degrees and stared at it for a couple of seconds. Tonks and Tulip who were on the other side of the table looked as well. When Pip hooted in agreement that he likes how I portrayed him, I turned the notebook to Penny and Charlie who felt left out for seeing it last.
“Another brilliant drawing, Nova.” Complimented Charlie.
“You are so talented. I wish I could draw like this.” Penny said, disappointed.
“You can't have both a pretty handwriting and know how to draw.” Tonks rolled her eyes playfully at her.
“She's right, you do have pretty handwriting.” Charlie said, half to himself as he was copying some of Penny's Potions notes. Penny couldn't hide the blush on her cheeks so she pretended to talk to Pip.
My birthday has always been amazing but nothing compared to the one I had with my friends at Hogwarts. As planned, we all gathered at Hagrid's on my birthday after we finished our lessons on Friday.
Charlie and I almost got into a fight as we couldn't decide when to celebrate. I was quite alright with celebrating my birthday on his birthday so that he wouldn't have to wait for two more days, while he insisted that it would be rude to me not to celebrate my birthday properly and that his birthday was in the middle of the week anyway and was more convenient to do it on my birthday which was on Friday. I agreed after Charlie didn't want to hear another word about it. He even waited until Friday to open all the presents his family has sent him. Of course, we also invited his brother Bill, who was delighted to accept the invitation and was very happy to see Charlie was finally doing well and finding more friends.
We had so much fun that night at Hagrid's. We drank tea and ate so much food which we later found out Tonks and Tulip smuggled from the Kitchens. Of course, they didn't want to tell us how they got in and kept giggling instead, every time we asked them.
Fang was rather conflicted as Charlie and I fought who was going to pet him next but he didn't complain at all when we finally agreed that sitting in front of the fire, both scratching him at the same time wasn't so bad either.
Even though Hagrid's rock cakes stayed untouched, he surprised Charlie and me with a birthday cake. It had 13 candles on it, pink frosting, and Happee Birthdae Charlie and Nova scribbled on it. Charlie and I each went on one side of the cake, looked at each other, closed our eyes, and blew our candles.
I've made a wish to always have such an amazing time with my friends as my First Year at Hogwarts has been nothing but great so far.
It was then time for us to open presents. Charlie got a jumper with the letter C on it from his mum. A bag full of candy and firecrackers from his twin brothers Fred and George. Something that Penny named a Rubber Duck from his dad, with a note attached that he should see if it floats on the Black Lake and a brand new edition of From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guide from Bill, for which Charlie jumped up so much that Hagrid's hut shook a little and we all laughed.
Tonks and Tulip gave Charlie a scarf with a Dragon embroidered on it. Penny gave him a book on Potions for easier understanding and I gave him a book I've made myself. I called it Fantastic Dragons and How to Train Them. Inside were my drawings of every known species of Dragons and descriptions of the most important details to know of each breed.
It seemed I've made everyone speechless, as they were staring at the book, while Charlie was slowly turning the pages, as his cheeks became slightly pink. He then put the book down and gave me the type of hug my mum usually gave me when she was super proud of something I did.
I got a scarf from Tonks and Tulip as well, just that mine had a Niffler on it. Penny bought me a set of magical pencils that dependingon how you rub them draw in different patterns. Bill gave me a new notebook with a special type of paper that changed colors depending on what you draw on it and Charlie gave me a necklace that had a little Dragon as a charm.
He showed me that if you rubbed the Dragon gently, it would breathe fire and I was in awe of how thoughtful his gift was. I put it on at once, bending my head down as I tried to hide my watery eyes.
Hagrid's gift for both of us was a set of 10 tea bags he made especially for us and we each got a book about Magical Creatures called The Creature Care.
That night when we finally said goodbye and Tulip and I climbed the stairs of the Ravenclaw Common Room, our family owl Waffle was waiting for me on the window shelf of our dorm. I opened the window to let her in and I took the letter and the present from her.
I must've frowned when I was reading the letter as Tulip rushed to my side. “Nova, what's wrong?”
I looked at her, sadly. “I think I'm going to spend Christmas alone.” I said miserably.
“My mum wrote to me. She was sent for Azkaban duty during the Christmas holidays and my dad is stuck in Egypt as they've just discovered a new tomb.” Tulip sat on my bed, putting her hand on my back, rubbing it in circles.
“Blimey Nova, if I knew I would've asked my parents to stay.”
“No, no. It's fine. You should go home and see your family. I know you can't wait to see your parents again.” I sniffed as my nose clogged from tears gathering in my eyes.
“We ALL want to see our families, Nova. You could ask Tonks or Penny if they could stay.” She tried to cheer me up.
“No, no. Penny has to go home as her sister can't wait for her to tell her all about Hogwarts. And Tonks, even though she doesn't want to admit it, misses her parents as well.” I put on a fake smile. “I'll be fine, really. I'll have Pip and I can play with all the amazing presents you guys gave me!” Tulip smiled at me, trying to hide that she felt sorry for me.
That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking what will I do for the Christmas holidays all alone. I didn't think this was going to happen and as much as my aunt could be annoying squeezing my cheeks and feeding me her not-so-tasty pie, I was seriously considering going to her for the holidays.
But then I remembered. I didn't know if Charlie was leaving home for Christmas. That's when I decided to owl him in the morning, to ask him what his plans for the holidays were.
I woke up with the sun gently brushing my face. I wrote Charlie a letter, asking him about his Christmas plans and thanking him again for the necklace, which I was still wearing.
I sent Pip to the Gryffindor Tower in the hopes that I wouldn't wake him up. I knew how much he liked to sleep in.
Pip found me not even an hour later in the Courtyard. I opened Charlie's letter at once.
Hi Nova,
I am so sorry to hear that you won't be able to spend Christmas with your mum and dad. But Bill and I are going home, mum misses us too much.
If you'd like I can ask her if you can join us? I'm sure she wouldn't mind.
Love, Charlie
I smiled at how small his handwriting was. Christmas with the Weasleys? Bill and Charlie were so amazing, I think their family can't be any different. I sent Pip back with a reply that if his family really wouldn't mind I would love to spend Christmas with them at the Burrow.
The next week went by as fast as you can say Kneazle. Our professors gave us so much homework to do over the holidays that I kind of regretted not staying at Hogwarts.
Penny in the meantime, couldn't stop talking about all the Muggle pastries her dad was going to make, for which Tonks and I couldn't deny, sounded delicious.
Tulip was waiting to pack almost until the last day, while Penny scolded her that she should've done it already and that she has been packed since the weekend of my and Charlie's birthday party.
The day before I was supposed to go spend time with Bill and Charlie's family Tonks, Penny, Tulip, Charlie, and I were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Charlie was just explaining how each year they enchant a gnome and put it on the Christmas tree without their mum noticing. Which gave a brilliant idea to Tonks and made Tulip laugh so much that I thought she was going to fall off the bench.
I was about to put a spoon full of cereal in my mouth when an owl flew straight into my bowl, splashing us all with milk. Errol hooted confusingly as she had a couple of corn flakes on her head. Tonks flicked it off her, while Charlie took the letter she had tied around her ankle and frowned.
I placed my head on his shoulder as I read the letter with him.
My dear Charlie,
I am sorry to say that you and Bill ought to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. Your brothers thought it would be funny if they set a whole package of Filibuster's Fireworks off in the living room.
Thanks to them, we are going to spend Christmas cleaning up the mess they've made. I would rather see that you, Bill, and your friend Nova spend a nice, quiet Christmas at Hogwarts.
I have already written Dumbledore a letter to sign you up on the list of students who are staying for Christmas as it is too late for you to do it.
Don't worry, you'll still get your presents and know you will be missed greatly.
Please give this letter to Bill if he's not reading it with you.
Love and lots of hugs,
Mum
“Oh, Charlie I am so sorry.” I hugged him.
“What's going on?” Asked Penny confused.
“My bloody brothers, that's what!” Charlie said, so mad that even his freckles got red.
“Language little brother.” Bill came to our table and upon seeing Errol playing with Tonks said: “What did Fred and George do now?”
“They blew up the bloody living room with them fireworks they always carry around.” Charlie was still frowning and gave Bill the letter.
Bill rolled his eyes slightly then smiled at Charlie.
“Look, we can make a nice Christmas for ourselves right here, can't we Nova?” He winked at me to encourage his idea.
“Yeah, we can celebrate here, see how the Castle looks in the snow. Perhaps have a snowball fight?”
“Hey, I want a snowball fight!” Tonks intervened.
“It's not going to be the same. I miss mum and dad, and Ginny and Ron. Even Percy and those cheeky trouble-makers.” Charlie frowned at the last few words. “And how are we supposed to celebrate Christmas with Nova? She is not allowed in our Common Room. We won't even be able to open the presents together.” He added.
“Charlie, listen. We can work something out. We can be here in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve for as long as they'll let us and then in the morning we can bring our Christmas presents here and open them together, what do you say?” Bill ruffled his hair.
“Oh, alright.” He said and let Bill squeeze him in a hug.
Later that afternoon we said goodbye to Tonks, Penny, Tulip, and Jae as they were all packed and ready to go to Hogsmeade Station to catch the train home.
On Christmas Eve it was just as Bill promised. We were sitting at the Gryffindor Table eating as many gingerbread cookies as our stomachs were letting us. I was drawing in the notebook Bill gave me while he was still explaining to me how exactly the enchanted paper worked. Charlie was trying a new hairdo on Pip, which he didn't appreciate as much as he appreciated the attention Charlie was giving him.
It was getting rather late. The time passed so quickly as Bill and Charlie were telling me all the stories of their previous Christmas when Fred and George almost set the Christmas tree on fire. How they were happy when they found out they are finally getting a sister and how their brother Percy is something else in the family. Bill then told me the secret recipe for Christmas cookies their mum makes every year to which they made me swear I will never tell her that I know and how their dad was obsessed with everything Muggle-related, which explained the rubber duck Charlie got for his birthday.
We then said goodbye as the boys went to the Gryffindor Tower and I went to Ravenclaw's. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't help but feel excited. I put Tulip's Christmas present on her bed and as the Hufflepuff Prefect stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas as well, I decided to ask her, if she could put Tonks' and Penny's presents on their beds.
I put on a hoodie and the most comfortable pants I could find as I was still full from the previous day. Then I grabbed all my Christmas presents that were waiting for me at my bedside and rushed to the Great Hall.
Bill and Charlie were already there and Charlie beamed with excitement when he spotted me.
“There you are! What took you so long!” Charlie hurried me to take a seat at the Gryffindor Table.
“He meant to say good morning, he is just too excited for the presents.” Bill apologized on Charlie's behalf. “See, mum felt so bad that Charlie and I couldn't come home for Christmas that we both got an extra present.” Bill explained Charlie's excitement.
I chuckled as Charlie threw all of them on the table.
“This one's for you Nova,” he handed me a big soft package wrapped in red gift paper. “And this one.” Continued Charlie, as he gave me another, now a smaller soft package. “This one is from me.” Charlie beamed proudly as he gave me yet another present.
“If this one is from you, who are the other two presents from?” I was in awe at how many presents they had for me.
“Well, this one is from me.” Bill shook the small package Charlie gave me before. “And this one,” he said while blushing a little, “is from our mum. She felt bad that she couldn't meet you.” Bill chuckled as he pointed at the red soft package.
I gave Charlie and Bill each their present. Charlie opened it at once and he gasped when he saw what he got. I got him a snowball in which I recreated the Burrow as much as Bill could help me in detail.
“Since you can't go home for Christmas, I thought I'd ask Bill to help me bring home to you.” I smiled. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes got watery.
“Th-thank you.” Was all he could say, his eyes still on the snowball.
I got Bill a new Gryffindor tie as his old one was looking rather ghastly after he didn't take proper precautions in his last Potions class.
I opened their mum's present first and when they saw what I got they both chuckled. It was a navy blue Christmas jumper with baby blue N in the middle.
“Mum gives us one every year. When you get a Christmas jumper from our mum, you officially become a Weasley.” Charlie grinned.
I didn't know what to say. I took off my hoodie and took a while to get the jumper over my head so that I could cover my red cheeks. It was so soft.
“I love it! I didn't get anything for her though.” I felt bad.
“Don't worry, Nova. She doesn't make these to expect something in return.” Bill showed on the jumper he was wearing. His was burgundy with a golden W on it, while Charlie's was green with a red C on it.
I then opened Charlie's present which had a little notebook in it. “It's a self-doodler.” He explained excitedly.
“A self-what?” I opened the notebook and found it empty.
“You turn to the desired page, tap it with a wand, and whisper the creature you would like to see. Try it. He took my wand out of my back pocket and handed it to me.
I tapped on one of the pages and whispered: “Niffler.” Something started to form on the page. It was as if someone was drawing the creature in front of me.
“It draws all common creatures on your demand. The sketch stays there until you close the notebook. I thought it might come in handy when you draw.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Char...Charlie, this must've cost a fortune.” Was all I could say as his gift left me speechless. I looked at him and caught him quickly glance at Bill. I looked at Bill and he winked at me, indicating that he helped Charlie to buy me the gift.
Lastly, I opened Bill's present and chuckled when I saw it was a hat. It was amusing to me that we both got each other a piece of clothing.
After we ate our breakfast and opened the rest of our presents, Bill sent everything upstairs while we got dressed and headed outside. It was beautiful as snow has been falling all night and all morning. We went through the Main Courtyard and decided to go down to the Black Lake where we had an epic snowball fight and I couldn't help but think of how jealous Tonks was going to be when I tell her about it.
After 2 hours in the snow, we were practically freezing, so we decided to pay Hagrid a visit before heading back up to the Castle for dinner. He made us hot chocolate this time and Bill and Hagrid were in a heated discussion about creatures that might be found in ancient tombs as Charlie and I played with Fang.
I said goodbye to the boys and returned to the Ravenclaw Tower with the biggest grin on my face. I was wondering if mum and dad would be mad if I said that this was the best Christmas of my life. I completely forgot that I wasn't home for Christmas and by Charlie's excitement and the smile he had on his face when we parted ways I think it's safe to say that so did he.
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queenieloveswriting · 4 years
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The Fool and Her Temperance
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Before your parents split, you lived in the outerbanks,with your mum and dad, close to your cousin ,john b. Not long after Big John, your dad's brother, died your mum and dad split, your dad stayed in outer banks to watch over his brothers son and keep his steady job, your mum however took you back to her home country Italy, and you lived in a small but cosy house near your grandparents. Not having a choice as a 7 year old you had to leave outer banks behind. When you got older your mum let you have your dad's number and then eventually you got your cousins, and began to get extremely close.
John and your dad simultaneously kept you up to date on the news and gossip of the outer banks, you'd call each other and it became your Sunday night ritual. Being a call or facetime you'd talk about school, you talked him through a grieving process and eventually settled for his reason to not believe until there is physical evidence. You barely know his friends other than jj whose number you also had, but they knew the name ‘Luna D’Angelo.
It was a Sunday night and you'd just, finally, convinced your mother to let you visit your dad for the summer and soak in the sun while she moved for a promotion during the month in Portland, of all places. You are just about to call john and tell him the news. School was literally out as of Friday and you were sure he was partying like he told you he'd be on Saturday, which is why he called you earlier. After updating your dad, who you also talked to every Friday night after school, You got to john 
After repetitive buzzing he finally picked up, you heard some staticky music and slightly tipsy John b 
“Heyyy Luna you okay we calleddd yesterdayyy i thinkkkk”
“Heyy john yeah we did sorry i just had some really good news i wanted to tell you but i can ring you tomorrow if its better”
“Don't be silllyyy I've only had a few anyways, I'll remember what is it, please don't tell me your pregnant because uncle joe’ll be pisseddd” he chuckled
“No oh my god I just wanted to say that my mum gave me the all clear and I’m coming to live with dad for the summer and maybe longer i don't know but yeah”
The line went silent 
“WOOOHOOO she coming Back GUYS DID YOU HEAR THAT LUNA D’ANGELO IS COMING FOR THE SUMMER "he shouted 
“Woah man stop shouting "you heard from the other line
“Jj bro my cousin you remember my cousin Luna she just told me yeah that she's coming back for the summer and maybe longer if her mum lets her brooo this is going to be the best summer ever lulu I've missed you”
“Wait really bro as in uncle joe’s Luna?”he asked 
“Duh bro the only Luna we know dumbass you wanna say hi”
“What do you mean bro she's not here or is she waiting wha--?”
“She on the phone,ohhh actually you speak to her for a second I'm getting looks from over there”
“Oh wait John its fin--”
Next thing you heard was some shuffling and a deeper voice fill your speaker phone
“Luna you there? "he asked
“Shit yeah hey jj I was about to go anyways but well now you know I’m finally going to meet you and the guys well and girl but”
“yeah you areee” he slurred 
“Anyways I'll see you in about a week j”
“Soon beautiful gunna have the best summer, finally going to a legendary obx party "he laughed, tipsy
“Sounds good jay I'll see you soon bye "you hung up
after finally hanging up on the phone you mentally facepalmed yourself for being so awkward, you went to bed 
A slow week went by, and you had finally arrived in the outerbanks.Stepping of the boating docks you searched the crowd for you dad. Once you spotted him holding a sign that said “bentornato la mia bella figlia”welcoming you back in your second, most used language,italian.Running into your dad's arms,you both had a little cry eventually getting settled into a cosy shack. After catching up with your dad you told him about you and john b becoming close once he gave you his number. Deciding you should surprise him with his arrival, Your dad drove you in his pick up to a block away from the chateau you remember you uncle calling it.
Walking up to the porch you heard voices coming from the dock, followed by their matured bodies coming in from a boat, scrapping your original plan once you saw your cousin, you just screamed running to the completely oblivious family member
“Johnnnn I’m back” you giggled still running
.Catching his attention he turned around running towards you in complete shock “holy fucking shit your here I thought it was tomorrow "he shouted suffocating you with a hug ”oh my god john b i missed you “you giggled and he sent you a watery laugh in return "I wasn't expecting you back soon  wow you look so different from the scrawny little 7 year old in uncle joe’s photos "he cooed
Before you could argue you were aware of the three people sending you confused glares. The only girl there, assuming it was kiara not having seen pictured to put name to face, coughed. ”someone wanna tell me what the fucks going on “she addressed earning john to roll his eyes at the over sassed girl, who had looked slightly jealous ”Kie this is Luna D’Angelo uncle joes daughter I’ve mentioned her she's my cousin, I might have forgot to tell them you were coming “her attitude dropped when she realised it was you “ohmygod ”she physically facepalmed, causing you to laugh "I had no idea you were coming the fuck john dumbass ”she elbowed him walking towards giving you a hug. ”Nice to finally meet you and put a face to name, speaking of you are fucking gorgeous the fuck ”she giggled walking  back to the boys wo still hadn't said anything, causing you to break the silence "so that makes you pope "you pointed to the buff dark skinned boy who nodded ”yeah that's me Luna I had no idea you were coming he's useless” he stated walking up to you with a quick hug “that he is "you turned round to finally face the blonde who had a cheeky smirk on his face shamelessly checking you out you rolled your eyes. Facing him you looked up too him finally seeing what he looked like ,defiantly exceeding “cute", you opened you arms and he came towards you, similarly to john b engulfing you and spinning you in a quick hug “its crazy actually hearing you and seeing you in real life "he teased still hugging you. Aware of the confused gases from the rest you backed out of the hug, missing the slight disappointment on jj’s face. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you looked up into his mischievous eyes and innocently winked taking a second take on his Greek-caved body “I know good to finally see what you guys all look like definitely not what I was expecting though". Turning around to the others who’d been oddly silent "so what's now guys "you asked everyone "well we were just about to go to kiara family's restaurant and grab some free food you wanna come? "John b asked. Following your cousin who was walking down the dock you made conversation with kiara about her Restaurant and how they finally got paper straws, being an environmentalist, you enjoyed discussing this.
When you finally got to the wreck you had made and surprisingly gotten close quite quickly you had conversations with all of them except jj, who was next. After discussing what you think happened to bodies after you die with pope, what was cuter a bottlenose dolphin or a harbour seals with kiara, dolphins winning the argument, and just life with john b how he is coping with  everything including his dad, you wondered what you'd talk about with jj, having brief text conversations with him on the phone you don't know him that well however being the only one you'd actually heard from and the stories about him from john b had been quite funny an intrigued you on the boys with an adrenaline addiction.
Once you sat down ,purposefully next to jj, pope and john b in front of you and kiara walking around helping her dad close up.
“So jj ”you turned facing him "I hear you are quite the adrenaline junkie, correct? "you sassed .Smirking he replied “quite the risk taker princess why’d you ask”
“Well you see now you might have a bit of competition because in Italy I am known as principessa pazza translating to crazy princess so you better be watching yourself blondie” you teased "what's got you that rep princess crazy "he joked. Laughing at his tone you pulled out your phone to a video collage you friends in Italy made of all the things you'd done from surfing to vine swinging. Passing him the phone you studied his priceless face watching yourself, internally hoping he's not judging your body in your bikinis and just watching what you were actually doing “damn Luna that's so sick where are you in this one", he asked scrolling the the clip of you surfing doing a perfect spin in the waves ”oh there, that's actually really funny story you wanna hear? "you asked to which he nodded “so basically me and a bunch of my guy friends, because no girls wanna get there hand dirty over there "you laugh intaking a breath “we had a 4 hour trek to get there and not having a car we had to walk to the mains and hitch hike and walk for about an hour and a half to actually get there with our boards to because we had no money to pay for rentals it was difficult I remember having to sit in the back of this guys car and my friend Ricco say in the front and there was only space for two in the back so i had to sit on Ryan's lap and put my feet on Angelo’s lap so we could have our boards on the floor, anyways once we finally got there and i got the feeling in my legs back we surfed for hours the beach was so busy and we found this beautiful cove which is in the video and the waves were so much better ,best waves I've ever surfed, we all slept on the sand around a makeshift fire from my lighter and so i had to sleep in my bikini them in their shorts because we didn't want to go home covered in sand and anyways after about 6 hours we found our way home, I didn't realise my mum would be back but the 3 weeks of no phone or tv and grounding was totally worth it, and that is what happened in tuscany,italy,ragazzo Biondo "you took a deep breath reliving the memory for a short period of time. "your mum was always a bit melodramatic Lu “your cousins chimed in. You were oblivious to the fact they had been listening to you relive your memories. Rolling you eyed you nodded “want to hear melodramatic she found out that when i was grounded the boys still came through my window and we all were still hanging out when she told me I couldn't and I was grounded for the end of the  month and she took my door off "you rolled your eyes at one of your mums various punishment “why do you think I want to live with dad "you joked.
“Wait so you are moving back? I thought it was only the summer "pope questioned earning a glare from john 
“I am staying for the summer but I was going to ask my dad eventually if I enjoy it here if he wouldn't mind it it would take my mum loads of convincing though but I think I can convince her if I kept my grades solid and got a job  could probably ’be trusted” ”you and john both rolled your eyes at the comment
“So that means there is a 50/50 chance you could be staying? "john asked hopeful
“Most likely cuz I mean id say more 75 no/25 yes but whatever floats your boat ”“I hope you do it'd be so cool to have you here and plus i think your dad would love that, we talk about you a lot, he misses you "he sighed you sent him a smile
“So what do you all do round here, any adventures? "you smirked
John b rolled his eyes but continued to answer your question “its pretty chill and well the same we go out on the boat swim or fish for a bit come home and probably to a kegger on the beach get wasted fight with kooks the usually” he stated "that doesn't sound too bad could surf all day, one question though "you asked and john b hit you with ‘shoot’ "the fuck is a kook? ”you asked earning snickers from the group and an in depth conversation with the boys about the rich snobs on the other side of the island.
Checking your phone it was almost 10:00 and you figured you should probably head home. Saying your goodbyes jj offered to walk you home. Insisting you and your dad lived a block away from his anyway, which was true.
When you arrived at your front door you turned to him and thanked h for walking you home 
“Honestly it's no problem I just wanted to talk to you like one on one for a bit you know, it's good to put a face to Luna and i honestly really hope you can stay longer, we could get used to having you around "he said causing your face to slightly flush at the complement “thanks jay that mean a lot rea-”you were cut off by your dad opening the door “ahh right on time Luna, jj how you doing boy "he asked causing you to look between then a few times in confusion “yeah I'm good sir just walking Luna home we had food at the wreck with the others "he answered your dad “thank you for feeding her son I do my shop tomorrow and was worried "you dad laughed “it's fine anyways I better go before john b locks up or I'll be sleeping on the porch "he said "wait I thought you were going back you yours and that's why you walked here ”jj chuckled "not going back to mine tonight me and john b are going to go out tomorrow so it's just easier if i sleep there "he answered looking up to your dad sending a playful wink to you “goodnight guys catch you tomorrow lulu "he waved off "night jj ”followed by “night son" your dad replied.
When you got in you caught up with your dad for the night and headed to bed looking forward to your full day out tomorrow on the boat with everyone
Tagged-
@sguymon21
A/N 🤷🏽got boredddd,,name and kind of themed on the two tarot cards ‘the fool’ and ‘the temperance’ putting in a summary on my masterlist for the meanings of it . Let me know if you wanna be tagged and if you liked it. Feel free to message me always wanna make some frienddddddss,,thanks for the love on my other fics if your interested here’s my masterlist
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thunderbird-one-ai · 3 years
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Compromised Chapter 3
Finally another chapter done after MONTHS of just starring at it. I’m hoping that Christmas will mean I can type a little more since I’ll be taking a break from university.  This chapter ends on another cliff hanger and I’m not sorry :P I’d like to say now. Kayo is not my wrong point POV wise so I apologise in advance if I’ve portrayed her so poorly.
Chapter 1 - Here
Part 1: Kayo
Kayo made no comment when John said those heart-stopping words to the team. ‘Thunderbird One is missing’. She shook her head, that couldn’t be true, this was Scott just cooling off. She’s known him for so long, getting away from his brothers for some time alone was rare for Scott, and with the argument, she overheard him have with Jeff meant he was probably just cooling off. She forced herself to believe that because the other alternative would be so much worse. But she was a practical woman. She knew that if Scott was distracted even for a second, he would have been jumped on. She thought of many scenarios in her head. Scott wasn’t a pushover; he could handle himself very well in a one on one fight. She hardly needed to teach him many moves since he had got the basics in the military long before they started training together. So the likely hood of Scott being overpowered by one prisoner was unlikely. John had also mentioned that three inmates were not accounted for still. Three verses one isn’t an easy challenge, but Scott’s training meant he might have been able to handle them. This still didn’t answer how Thunderbird One disappeared off Johns scans and hers for that matter.
“Thunderbird Shadow to Thunderbird Two,” Kayo said. “Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Shadow, did you find anything?” Virgil replied. Kayo heard the worried tone in Virgil’s voice. She would no doubt hear it in every brother's voice, even Johns in this situation. He was remaining calm but Kayo wondered how long that calm deminer would last for. Virgil may not be as hot-headed as Scott, but his passion to protect his family burns just as brightly as Scott’s. She looked outside her cockpit noticing a small GDF post in the middle of nowhere. Probably just to make sure no stragglers got away. It would definitely be a place that Scott would land near. “Nothing yet, I’ve flown over the entire area with no sign of Scott or Thunderbird One. I see a small GDF post out here so I’m going to ask them some questions,” Kayo said through her comms. “FAB, keep up informed. I’ve gotta go tell dad,” Virgil said before Kayo heard him cut communications. That wasn’t going to be easy. Jeff had only been back six months and now one of his sons was already missing on a mission. A mission that coincidently included the possible break out of kayo’s uncle. The mention of The Hood made Kayo’s blood boil, another thought crossed her mind that John still hadn’t told them whether one of the inmates missing was The Hood or not. If this was true, she needed to be even more on guard. Kayo got Thunderbird Shadow to land nearby the GDF truck and jumped down on the ground below her. She walked up to the Guards not trusting a single one of them. “What does International Rescue want now? We’ve already said to the other one that we have this place secure,” One of the guards promptly said, causing Kayo to become concerned. “The other one?” Kayo replied. “Yeah, the tall one with the fast jet. Just waltz right up here with three guys. One passed out mind you. Said he was a high priority prisoner and took that one back to the prison whilst we hold the others for the appropriate transport to arrive,” Kayo took in every piece of information. Well, that was wrong, Thunderbird One had not returned to the prison otherwise she would have seen the silver bird fly straight past her. She kept her poker face shown, knowing if the GDF found out about a missing Thunderbird, they’d never hear the end of it. She walked back to Thunderbird Shadow, arm moving up to start a comm link with the others before something caught her eye. Kayo found herself running back and sliding under her jet, gliding her hands over charred patches of Earth. Thunderbird One was here. The distinct pattern in the ground matched Thunderbird One’s VTOL engines. Scott was right here along with his bird. The GDF said that he just left with one member but the other two were still here. Kayo found herself running again back to the GDF truck, ignoring the protests from the members, Kayo got in the back, looking to the two prisoners. Neither of them was The Hood and that only made her more concerned. “What did he promise you? Freedom?” Kayo said, looking at both of them, waiting for a reaction. She got one. “Funny, that’s what the other one said,” The smaller male replied, smiling. Kayo wished right there and then she could live up to her name and punch this guy into next week, but her mind was racing. They knew who she was talking about. She jumped out of the van and found herself once again running back to Thunderbird Shadow, ignoring the shouts from the GDF members behind her. She had to get to the others, her brother was in serious trouble. “Thunderbird Two, The Hood has Scott,”
Part 2: Jeff Jeff tapped his foot against the varnished floor impatiently. This wasn’t the first mission he’d been leading where Scott had been less than helpful in cooperating with. He was very much surprised at that his eldest son would answer back as much as he did. That never happened when International Rescue first started out, heck even when they were both military personnel, Scott would always follow what Jeff said. But that was over eight years ago. Eight years ago Scott never would have thought his own father would be lost in space. Jeff couldn’t begin to imagine what his eldest had gone through. Losing their mother was a hard blow to the family, then Jeff himself was blown into space. His eldest had to take on everything. As much as he saw the future in his boys he never thought International rescue would become like this. They all exceeded what Jeff thought possible but should have he expected any less. “I never thought that after all this, I would see my boy look so lost in his own chair,” Jeff jumped in his own seat and looked up to see a familiar face. “Mum, you got back here early. I thought you were with Lady Penelope all day,” “I was but I was informed that not all was well here on the island,” Sally said smiling softly, sitting down on the sofa obviously waiting for Jeff to finally speak up. Jeff gave a small smile back, of course, Lady Penelope would say something, no doubt she had Parker overhearing the entire conversation between Scott and himself. He also shouldn’t have been surprised that his mother would want to fly back after hearing that the family was in slight disarray. So far he had re-bonded with almost all his sons, Scott was the exception which Jeff was surprised about. They had argued a lot recently, not even his other sons knew about those arguments he doubted his mother did either. “I’ve become closer with all of them mum…all of them except Scott. I still feel like I’m millions of miles away in space when it comes to approaching him. I couldn’t be more proud of him for his achievements, for what he’s done in the years I was gone,” Jeff finally said, breaking the silence between them. “He took on everything Jeffery, almost got too much for him,” she let out a small huffed breath. “But he’s your eldest son, you taught him everything he needed to know about your company and International Rescue.” “But that doesn’t explain…this,” “For years I saw that boy struggle with many things. The most prominent one was that he felt he could have done better. Scott worked himself to exhaustion. We’re all grateful Virgil became the main paramedic to deal with your eldest because he took on so much. Took the pain, the sadness, the guilt from everyone else and hoarded it himself. Reminds me of a certain Tracy I knew when they were younger,” Jeff looked back over to his mother, who had a kind, warm smile waiting for him. Of course, Scott would take everything on his shoulders, even at his young age. But the guilt was something that took Jeff a little off guard. He felt like he should have the guilt. The guilt of leaving his family. The guilt of leaving his eldest son with five younger siblings. The guilt of never telling him Kayo’s origins. There was so much more Jeff should have told or shown to not only Scott but the rest of his sons. He was so overwhelmed by his own guilt he didn’t even consider Scott had his own. He remembered that dreaded day so clearly, it haunted his mind constantly even when asleep. The last day he spent on the planet before disappearing for eight years. He remembers telling his sons he’d be home for dinner. He remembered Scott following him to the hanger, stating his worry about the mission. Jeff remembers considering letting Scott join him as the backup pilot in case the place was too much to handle for Jeff alone. But that was out of the question. Jeff vowed to not let the Hood get close to his family, especially Scott not after what happened. Jeff sighed quickly. He’d already broken that vow. The Hood had done so much damage to the family, almost ripping it apart. But not anymore, Jeff was certain on that. He would need to talk with Scott properly after this mission was over and safely back home. Maybe even talk about some old demons they both shared. “Jeffery, Virgil’s trying to contact you,” Jeff looked over to the wall that mounted his sons' portraits, Virgil’s lit up, sending a projection of him onto the table. Jeff noticed straight away something was wrong. “Virgil? What’s happened?”
Part 3: Scott To say Scott hated The Hood was an understatement. That man, that monster, made Scott's blood boil with rage. But The Hood was also one of the very few people who could instil a rare horrible emotion as well, fear. The fear that The Hood could take everything away from him in a single second. He knew this fear, he’s already experienced it once before a little over ten years ago. Memories of betrayal and threats surfaced suddenly, catching Scott off guard, melting his poker face stance away. “Remembering old times Scott? I’m rather offended you forgot them. They were, of course, the most defining moments of your life,” The Hood looked down to him grinning. “Young and ambitious wanting to be better than your father,” No, Scott didn’t want to remember those times, those memories were locked away for a reason. He had to focus on the now not then. Focus on making sure The Hood never got to the jet he was asking about. Scott knew what The Hood wanted now. “The jet’s destroyed Hood. It’s gone,” Scott said quickly, not latching onto the words he had said previously. The Hood just burst into a sarcastic laugh. “Oh? You’re being serious? Don’t take me for a fool Scott. I know she’s still in one piece. After all, you wouldn’t have destroyed your precious first jet. She was too good to be destroyed. The perfect machine that couldn’t be matched in either Earth’s atmosphere or space. The speed and weaponry that couldn’t be countered. I would build it again myself if the parts weren’t so rare,” The Hood continued to smile. “You didn’t build it you ruined it!” Scott shouted before swallowing thickly, realising he’d just been baited, again. “Come now, Scott. Even you admitted to it being a beautiful machine, you were in your element whilst flying it. How you were so focused on proving your father wrong, proving him you were better. I wanted to prove that too, prove to the world that Scott Tracy could become so much more than Jeff Tracy,” “You manipulated me,” “I was trying to show you your true potential Scott and you threw it all away when you betrayed me,” “You betrayed us! My father trusted you. Worked with you and you…you tried to kill him,” The hood smacked his hands down on to the metal table, leaning over Scott. Scott looked up to him about to continue his sentence before noticing The Hoods expression. He tensed; Scott knew that look. It was a look he hadn’t seen in ten years. It was the look The Hood gave him all those years ago when he declared Scott had betrayed him and vowed that Scott would pay. There was that emotion again, fear. It seeped through his body relentlessly. He wouldn’t be overwhelmed again; he was stronger this time. “If you won’t tell me then I suppose I’ll have to find another Tracy to tell me the location,” “They don’t know anything about it!” Scott saw The Hoods expression change from angry to delight as he saw the realisation dawn on the criminals face. “You never told them, did you?” The Hood laughed. “You never told your brothers you worked with me,”
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babyboynixon · 4 years
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captain nixon, what are your favorite and least favorite things about military life?
Thank you for the question, my anonymous friend, and thanks also for showing an interest in my life far exceeding that which my own wife has shown in whether I live or die. Lately it has occurred to me that she married me expecting me to die so that she can cash in on not only my Army life insurance but also my share of all that Nitration money, a joke which would be on her as my father is currently doing his level best to run the business into the ground, but that is not my problem at the moment. Some advice, kids - don’t marry young, which I define as anything shy of your advanced 20s but if you can hold off until 30, even better. Certainly don’t marry in the midst of an international crisis; no one can think straight with the threat of global fascism knocking at the garden gate. I know many of you are wide-eyed romantics who can’t wait to lock in your own competitive interest rate on the American Dream, but just trust your boozy Uncle Nix on this one. What’s the goddamn rush?
But here I am wagging my rakish chin when you asked me a question. Where the fuck are my manners?
My Favorite Things About Military Life
I would be remiss if I didn’t include the prodigious male nudity right up at the top. I’ve never seen anything like it; it is truly breathtaking. In the showers. In the barracks. It’s just everywhere. And even if they’re not totally nude, they may as well be, for how little those PT shorts conceal. Have you seen the get-up my good friend Dick exercises in? Boots and skivvies, basically. It's an affront to common decency. How I managed to survive 13 weeks of daily exposure to it at OCS without suffering a massive aneurysm is an actual goddamn miracle.
Related, the uniforms. All these straps and belts and leather and laces and harnesses, for Christ’s sake. They are a thin slice of heaven for a gentleman of refined sexual proclivities such as myself.
Maps. I have so many maps. And they are so big. I could fill a whole aircraft hangar with all my maps and sand tables. And I’m the one who gets to explain them. See these arrows? That’s us. See where they’re pointing? That’s where we’re going. Now get it done, boys! My maps are so impressive. I’ve caught Dick studying them up close a time or two and I can just tell he’s thinking “wow, Nix must really be important to have such a huge map”. And he is right.
Drinking. You might be surprised to learn that someone who carries such a heavy burden of responsibility would have the time to get drunk pretty much every night, but there is actually a lot of downtime in The Life of a Paratrooper, which affords me the opportunity to practice my life’s enduring passions of boozing and running my mouth. As an added bonus, I think my skills in this area are really beginning to endear me to the Colonel. Is there a promotion in this boy’s future? We’ll just have to wait and see.
The people I never would have met and the relationships I never would have formed otherwise. Take my good friend Dick, whom I believe I may have mentioned earlier. Our paths would most likely never have crossed were it not for the war. I never would have gazed upon that handsome, enigmatic face or learned what all of his subtle and constantly shifting smiles mean. I never would have known what it’s like to have a friend who truly understands you, I mean like on a cellular level. Just knowing that he’s there and that we’ve got each other, can depend on each other no matter what the Krauts or General Taylor throw at us, well... it just gives me the strength and motivation to give it my best shot every day.
My Least Favorite Things About Military Life
Bugles. Mornings in general, actually. I’m just saying, when they’ve got us in reserve anyway, what does it fucking matter if we start drills at 0630 or 1200? Some of us do our best drinking work at night. Why hobble us by suppressing our natural talents?
Buck Compton. God I can't stand that guy.
Related, sports. I fully admit I have a bias here, but I am so tired of the obsession with sports. The moment we get any free time, it’s “let’s organize a football league! Let’s host a basketball tournament!” Enough. There are other ways to prevent a bunch of feral children from getting drunk and kicking the shit out of each other or getting drunk and trashing their barracks. Building a new Officers Day Club (not to be confused with the Officers Night Club), for example. But I’m in the minority here so I’m sure the fucking cricket or rugby or whatever will continue unabated.
I don’t know what to call this phenomenon, but the Army has an uncanny tendency to promote people in such a way that their new duties and responsibilities exceed their competence to perform them. Just because someone is a good platoon leader doesn’t mean they’ll be a good Battalion S3 (or whatever), and now the company is stuck having to fill the gap with another lieutenant who, guess what, is a shitty platoon leader. This is the sort of thing Dick and I spend hours complaining about. You know, when we’re just sitting around solving all the world’s problems.
The people I never would have met and the relationships I never would have formed otherwise. To think that, if it hadn’t been for that maniac in Berlin, Dick and I never would have crossed paths. I never would have felt my heart break a little that first time (and every time since) I gazed into his handsome, enigmatic face and felt the pangs of unresolved longing stabbing at my very soul. I would have never known what it’s like to have a friend who understands everything about you on a cellular level, except for THE ONE GODDAMN INDISPUTABLE FACT that you are desperately in love with said friend and that the two of you were born to spend every day of your mortal lives devoted to one another. Just knowing that he’s RIGHT THERE and has no idea that we are literally soulmates and having to pretend that I don’t feel everything that I feel, well... it just makes me want to eat a fucking grenade.
I hope that answers your questions, anonymous friend! Now if you’ll pardon me,  I’m off to get drunk.
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exxar1 · 3 years
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Episode 11: New Believer, New Faith, and a New Vow
2/7/2021
- 1 -
Good morning! It’s a beautiful Sunday here in Las Vegas. I have much to talk about so I’m just going to get right into it.
           It’s hard to believe we’re already a full month into the new year. This year for me has been very rewarding thus far. For starters, I have had no trouble keeping up with resolutions 1 and 4. (For a refresher, you can scroll back through my previous posts to the one from New Year’s Eve.) I have found time each day to read my Bible and pray, and I have had little difficulty in maintaining a pleasant attitude and a smile in my daily encounters with my co-workers and customers. As expected, though, that latter one has been tested a few times by the occasional sour apples that woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But I’ve surprised myself every time by my patience and my ability to keep a calm and pleasant demeanor. (Those of you who have known me for a long time will understand how truly remarkable that is for me.) It’s simply another testament to the power of God to change our basic attitudes when we are willing to let Him.
           I’ve also made great strides in resolution #3, and that’s where I’m going to spend the bulk of my time on this post.
           Have you ever sought something – therapy, a particular medication, advice from a friend or colleague – thinking that it might help with one problem, only to be pleasantly surprised that one, the result helped in many other ways you hadn’t anticipated; and two, that the change/outcome/counseling exceeded your initial expectations by such a great magnitude that you couldn’t believe you hadn’t sought this help long ago? That feeling has been with me for over three weeks now, and it’s only getting better with each session.
           One of my first tasks in tackling resolution #3 was to consult a pastor on this issue of homosexuality and the Bible. I needed to know what God really said in His Word on this controversial topic, and since I have yet to find a home church here in Las Vegas the only pastor that I am casually acquainted with is Mark Sjostrom of the church in which I was born and raised back in Twin Falls, Idaho.
           For those of you unfamiliar with Twin Falls or this particular church, allow me to forge a brief rabbit trail here to give you a short history. Grace Baptist Church was founded in 1975, and, back then, it was just a one-story, oblong, red-bricked building, its main auditorium forming a bubble at one end, at the intersection of Eastland Drive and Falls Avenue on the eastern edge of town. It’s still that same building today, only now there’s a massive, two-story gymnasium/classroom on the other side of the back parking lot, and a third, smaller, two-room annex that sits behind the gym. The first of those latter two structures was needed in the early eighties when the church launched its own private school, Twin Falls Christian Academy. I was in kindergarten when the gymnasium was under construction. I have many memories of watching my dad and some of the other men in church up on the scaffolds, putting together the walls, while I waited for my mom to pick me up after school, which was held in the various Sunday school rooms in the church. A few years later, I would be attending high school in the classrooms above that gym.
           In the years since I have grown and left Twin Falls, I have come back to that church on the occasional Sunday morning worship service when I’m home for a vacation visit. I’ve always had mixed feelings every time I set foot beyond the threshold of its main doors (see my previous posts about my struggles during my teen years.) It’s the same feeling you get when you come back to something that is at once familiar and strangely comforting, but also brings with it unpleasant memories and the pain of old wounds that have never quite healed.
           Grace’s pastor since 2005 has been Mark Sjostrom (pronounced ‘shos-trum’), and I didn’t know him that well when I decided to consult him on this issue. Our only interaction thus far had been a brief handshake and a greeting after those sporadic Sunday morning worship services, and I wasn’t sure he would even remember me when I nervously texted him a brief ‘Hello’ a month ago. He responded within a few minutes, and I re-introduced myself and then gave a short explanation of what I needed. We agreed on a time and date for a phone call, and I emailed him the next day with a longer explanation of what I needed to talk about with him.
           That letter was a  somewhat detailed account of what most of you are already familiar with: my struggle in high school with keeping my secret of being gay while trying to fit in socially and eventually declaring myself an Atheist after being expelled from school my senior year a month before graduation. It was probably about 2 pages, and I was now very nervous after clicking the ‘Send’ button. I suppose now is a good time to tell you something else about me.
           I have been one of ‘those people’ for all of my adult life. You know who I’m talking about: the people who silently judge the other customers in the book store who pause to browse the Self Help section; or the people who quietly scoff when anyone talks about their latest therapy session with their friends or coworkers at lunch in the break room. I’m glad I don’t need self-help or therapy, I’ve always thought. But, then again, good for them, I guess. I’m glad I have all my issues worked out, and I’m a stable, normal adult. I’ve never had any issues that were so bad I needed to get help from an armchair counselor’s latest best seller or a psychiatrist’s couch.
            Hhmmm. My life, lately, has been chock full of irony.
           When the time came to dial Pastor Sjostrom’s number my level of nervousness was up to a ten out of ten on the anxiety scale. I hadn’t felt like this since high school when it was opening night of our Agatha Christie play, and I was one of the main cast. I had prepared a detailed outline of what I wanted to discuss, and, after a few initial pleasantries, Mark quickly put me at ease. I was pleasantly caught off guard by his relaxed, casual personality. I found immediately that he was very easy to talk to, and my anxiety level dropped to a ‘three’ in the first five minutes. Pastor Sjostrom is definitely one of those people who has found the right calling. His warm, personable demeanor made me feel like I was talking to an old friend over coffee at Starbucks, and after about ten minutes of getting to know one another, he brought the conversation back around to my letter.
           Here’s where my second surprise occurred. Mark was bluntly honest. I had told him that I believed I was saved in 1985, when I was seven, after the evening service of one of our church’s mid-summer week long revival meetings. “Neal,” Mark said rather pointedly, “after reading your description of your life after high school, I gotta say that it doesn’t sound like you were saved. Your behavior and your atheism doesn’t reflect the change that is described in the Bible.” He went on to explain that salvation is a change brought about the presence of the Holy Spirit in the new believer. There is a desire to learn more about God and His Word. There is a desire to serve him and to live one’s life in surrender to Him.
           I had to pause and think about that. And, doggone it, you know what? He was right. And the reason I knew that was because I had only to look at the last four months of my life, even more so since I had returned from Christmas vacation. That desire – that hunger – to know God had never been present in my life until September 17, 2020. That was the night I surrendered to Christ in an awkward, fumbling prayer on the way home from work. Ever since, I have had nothing but a desire to read my Bible and change my life. I told pastor this, and he agreed. It was evident now that I was truly saved. That evidence was lacking in my youth and my adult life up to this point.
           My third major surprise of that initial counseling session – yes, that was what is was – was when pastor told me he was assigning me homework for our next weekly conversation. He wanted me to read the book of 1 John. He explained that we would eventually get to the issue of homosexuality, but that we needed to cover this ground first. I agreed  to the assignment, and we hung up. I glanced at the clock in the upper corner of my computer screen. We had talked for almost an hour. I immediately reached for my Bible and opened it to 1 John. I read the whole book in about ten minutes.
           1 John is a primer for the new believer. John states clearly and succinctly what makes a Christian a Christian. Chapter 1:9 was immediately familiar to me from my Sunday School days: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” So was chapter 2:9: “He that saith he is in the light, and hateth his brother, is in darkness, even until now.” John goes to say in chapter 5:2: “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep His commandments.” And, finally, verse 20 of that same chapter: “And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true, even in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.”
           Yep. All of that book made perfect sense. Part of that was because I had absorbed so much of God’s Word in my youth that it had sat in the deep recesses of my brain for all of my life, and much of it had begun floating to the surface in the last several months – like debris from an ancient wartime submarine that has been recently dislodged from its ocean grave. Except that these artifacts – Bible verses, fragments of sermons, some of Mr. Walker’s proverbs from Bible class – were not dirty, soggy, disgusting relics. They were bits of priceless treasure, and I’ve been rediscovering them in dribs and drabs ever since.
           I have had three sessions with Pastor Sjostrom, and they are each the highlight of my week. I very nearly broke down after hanging up from our first talk. I felt a combination of immense relief, peace and calm. Not to be overly melodramatic, but it was if something had dislodged in my very soul, like a sliver of wood just beneath the skin that has never quite come all the way out. I realized with immediate clarity that I was getting far more than just a pastor’s opinion on a particular issue for my book. I had stumbled on to something else, something I needed far more: spiritual counseling and guidance for my new life as a child of God.
           I am a new believer.
That seems so strange to say out loud. I was raised in the church. I had at least a third of the Bible memorized by the time I was twelve. I knew all the major stories from the Old Testament – the creation of the world; God’s covenant with Abraham; Jacob, Esau and Isaac; Joseph sold into slavery into Egypt and God’s eventual deliverance of the Israelites from their captivity there; the introduction of the ten commandments and the Mosaic Law; Esther, Ruth, King Saul, David, the Book of Psalms, the prophet Isaiah – I knew all of it by heart by the end of my days in elementary school. Same for the New Testament – the birth of Christ; all of His teachings and parables; His death on the cross; His resurrection after three days; the founding of His church after His ascension back to Heaven – it was all as familiar to me by the time I walked away from high school as the mathematical precepts of basic addition, subtraction, division and multiplication.
           I had assumed all this time that I was still saved. I thought I had really, genuinely believed in Jesus as my savior that long ago night in 1985 when I was seven years old. And maybe I did. But, for whatever reason, the Holy Spirit had not come into me back then. I was not truly saved. (This is perhaps worthy of a more detailed discussion and analysis later on down the road.) Whatever the case, I am most definitely a new believer now. The Holy Spirit is alive and well within me, and I have only a single desire and purpose: to know the God that created me, and to serve him with all my heart, soul and mind.
           Pastor and I did discuss my homosexuality issue in our second talk, and that, along with the extracurricular reading I’ve been doing on this topic, has enabled me to finally reconcile what I couldn’t in my teen years when I first fought with this problem.
 - 2 -
If I am gay, and God – through His written word – has condemned what I am as a sin, how can I be His child and serve Him as he commanded me to do? That’s the question I’ve been wrestling with anew for the last few months. I began this new journey in last September with the premise that I was born gay. I’ve believed that my whole adult life. I proceeded from that assumption through all of my reading and research these last few weeks. But if God made me this way, why would He then condemn as an abomination the very thing that I am? Is He not contradicting Himself? How can this be?
           Pastor Sjostrom asked that very question in our second talk. He then went on to answer it by explaining that my unnatural desire for the same sex was a cause of the Fall, when Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This is what led their descendants to the sins of idolatry, fornication, sexual perversion, and many, many others. Yes, I was born gay. But that’s not how God made me. There’s a very distinct difference.
           His explanation corroborated what I have come to discover in the last couple weeks as I’ve read Two Views on Homosexuality, the Bible, and the Church from the Counterpoints series. Author and editor Preston Sprinkle gathered four prominent Christian authors, scholars, and theologians to discuss this issue – two for and two against. I will not go into great detail of what these authors debate and discuss, mainly for the sake of page and time, but also because this issue is not anywhere near as complicated as it seems.
           All four of the contributing authors to the Two Views book have used the following Bible verses/passages as the foundation of their arguments:
1.)   The creation story in Genesis 1 and 2.
2.)  Genesis 19:4-11 (Sodom & Gomorrah)
3.) Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13
4.) 1 Corinthians 6:9-11
5.) 2 Corinthians 5:17
6.) Romans 1:18-32, emphasis on verses 26-28
7.) 1 Timothy 1:9-10
Those authors have also drawn from extra-Biblical material such as the writings of Philo, a Jewish historian who was a contemporary of the apostle Paul; the Apocrypha; the writings of Saint Augustine; and various other books – most written in the last 50 years – on sociology, sexuality and anthropology in the ancient world.
Here’s an example of one of one of the arguments for the church’s endorsement of homosexuality. One of Two Views’ contributors, Megan Defranza argues that there were many people in Biblical times that were born with no distinct male or female genitalia or other defining sexual characteristics. These “intersex individuals” were often referred to as eunuchs by the people of that time, and many of them were used as sex slaves. Megan claims that Genesis 1 is “…a theological account describing creation in broad categories, not an exact scientific inventory of all of God’s good creatures.” She goes on to say that Adam and Eve were not the exclusive, ideal models for all of man and womankind. They were, rather, just the broad categories; that the birth of eunuchs and other such of types of intersex people prove that God would welcome the church’s acceptance of gays, lesbians and transgenders since they have been born that way, and their sexual desires are natural to them. She claims that God was not condemning the eunuchs and other similar people in those verses/passages I listed above. Those condemnations were for the ones who had turned deliberately turned away from God to worship idols and indulge their sinful lusts.
There’s a lot more detail to Megan’s argument, especially regarding the eunuchs and their forced sexual slavery to their male masters, but it’s not worth going into here. The other three contributing authors give similar arguments, citing external sources in addition to scripture, to support their particular view. Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes, the two that are opposed to the church’s condoning of homosexuality and gay marriage, give the stronger of the four arguments. Two Views opens with Megan’s and William Loader’s essays (the other author who falls on the affirming and open acceptance side of this debate), but by the time I reached the end of their arguments, I already knew which side of this issue I was going to fall on.
Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes – as well as Pastor Sjostrom – present a much stronger, sounder case for why the Christian church, no matter the denomination, should be condemning ALL forms of homosexuality as clearly as God does. My own Bible reading and prayer showed me this after only a few weeks. I don’t really need to read all the other books on this topic to know the truth. To be completely honest, I had a pretty good idea of what the end of this journey would look like before I even started it. All the verses from Genesis, Leviticus, Romans, 1st and 2nd Corinthians, and 1st Timothy that deal with this specific issue are quite clear. It is stated over and over: homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God. Paul stated it best in 1 Corinthians 6:9-11:
“Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of our Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.”
That word “effeminate” in the KJV is translated from the original Greek word that Paul used: arsenokoitai. This is a compound word: arsen – male; koite – bed. “Male bedders”, in other words; those men who sleep with other men. In the NIV translation, the word “effeminate” is replaced with the phrase “men who sleep with other men”. The only other passage that Paul uses that word is in 1 Timothy 1:8-10 (NKJV):
“But we know that the law is good if one uses it lawfully, knowing this: that the law is not made for a righteous person, but for the lawless and insubordinate, for the ungodly and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, for fornicators, for sodomites, for kidnappers, for liars, for perjurers, and if there is any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine…”
The meaning of these two passages is quite clear: those that practice any or all of those sins listed will not inherit the kingdom of God. They are not true believers and followers of Christ. And thus, any church that not only allows its homosexual members to remain in their sin, but also performs gay marriage, is not a true church of God.
And such were some of you.
God has commanded those that follow Him and declare His name to turn from their wickedness and be transformed. Those that believe on His name and repent of their sins will no longer practice those sins listed in the passages I quoted above. That’s the meaning of the phrase, “…and such were some of you.” Well, I have definitely been transformed. I can feel the Holy Spirit working in me. And, because of that, I have no other choice. If I am to be faithful to my Lord and Creator, if I surrender myself completely to His will, I must take a vow to turn away from my sin nature. I cannot indulge in the “lusts of the flesh”, as Paul says in Romans, if I am to call myself a true Christian. I am now a child of God, and His will alone must govern all I say and do.
But, even more important than those passages I listed and quoted above, is the book of Genesis, chapter two. God created Adam first and then He decided it wasn’t good for man to be alone. So God made the woman out of Adam’s rib, and he called her ‘Eve”. Then, in verse twenty-four, God said, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” This chapter, more than any other passage in the Bible, clearly and explicitly demonstrates what God had intended from the very beginning. The only natural desire of the flesh was for the opposite sex: man for woman and woman for man. That was God’s original plan.
Unfortunately for us, Adam and Eve did not resist the serpent’s temptation to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. After the Fall, their perfect, pure natures were corrupted by sin, and that corruption was passed unto their children, and their children’s children. Part of that corruption was the perversion of the natural, normal sexual desire. Men lusted after men and women for women. Even though the subsequent passages in Genesis which describe mankind’s deplorable state before the Great Flood never state it specifically, it is not unreasonable to assume that more than just homosexuality was a problem. Bestiality, pedophilia, rape and incest were very likely abundant among the first few generations of man, as well as the worship of false idols and complete rejection of God. Why else would God have felt the need to punish his creation by wiping them from the face of the Earth, save for Noah and his family?
As the old saying goes, ‘God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve’. I’ve always hated that pithy, snarky retort whenever I had to defend my sexuality to anyone who tried to tell me I was living in sin. But it’s true. God created only Adam and Eve; not Adam and Steve; not Melissa and Eve; not Adam, Eve, and some other non-gender, non-binary person.
Just Adam and Eve.
Man and woman were joined in holy matrimony and, until the Fall, they lived in perfect peace and union with their Lord and Creator. Anything that deviates from that original, holy standard that God still demands of His children today, is a sin. That includes homosexuality, bestiality, pedophilia, incest, idolatry and devil worship, to name a few. Anyone that willfully practices or engages in any of those things and does not repent cannot call himself a true believer in Christ. Nor can any church that not only openly endorses homosexuality but also performs gay marriage can call themselves a true church of Christ.
So then, what now? If I accept that my sexuality is a byproduct of my sin nature, and that God, in fact, did not make me this way, how can I best serve Him? I’m still gay. That hasn’t changed. (And, yes, I’m sure. I’m watching last week’s episode of The Resident as I write this. Matt Czuchry and Manish Dayal are among the best male eye candy on TV right now.) I still desire a physical relationship with another man. (Either of the aforementioned actors would be especially nice.) But that desire – as well as the act – is a sin. God has made that clear in his Word. After some more talk with Pastor Sjostrom, I finally came to an answer – or, at least, part of one.
 - 3 -
I mistakenly assumed that after I asked Christ into my heart, after I surrendered myself to God, that my sin nature would be transformed. I thought what many torn, conflicted gay Christians and their family have thought: with enough prayer, genuine repentance, and strong faith I would no longer be a homosexual. God would change my unnatural desire, and I would be sexually attracted to women instead of men. I would throw out all the symbols of my gay pride that I had collected over the years – t-shirts, bracelets, baseball caps, the rainbow colored Apple watch bands – and I would begin my new life as a heterosexual man. 2 Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” Yes, it would be hard at first, but God and I would make this work, glory hallelujah amen!
But that’s not how salvation works. Yes, there was a transformation, but not quite the kind that I was expecting. It’s hard to put into words exactly what I felt in the weeks and months following that quiet prayer on that car ride home from work late the night of September 17, 2020. I knew for sure that something was different. To begin with, there was an almost instant peace and calm that settled over my entire being. All the anxiety, the fear, and the worry about the state of the world around me that had been plaguing me for many weeks melted away. In its place was a quiet, firm assurance that, no matter what happened from then on, I was in the hands of God. He would take care of me.
And then, in the days and weeks that followed that moment of salvation, I began to feel more than just spiritual peace and tranquility. The first was a hunger – an insatiable, ravenous desire to read my Bible. I had only the app on my iPad, and I started with Genesis 1. Every night, before bed, I would read two or three chapters. And then I would pray. It was awkward and nothing like the prayers that I heard time and again from my dad or my teachers in high school or my pastor back then. I stumbled over my words, I repeated myself, I kept forgetting what I wanted to say. And I still felt weird doing it. It was like I was talking to myself. But I kept praying nonetheless.
Gradually, as Christmas loomed closer and closer, and the more I read my Bible and talked to God, I felt something stronger inside of me. But it wasn’t anything physical, like an emotion. It was…something else, something in my soul. I imagined this new feeling as a few drops of red ink falling into a bowl of clear water. At first, the drops fall straight down, coloring only a little bit of the water. But then the ink begins to slowly spread, crimson tendrils that stretch outwards, eventually turning the whole water into the color of blood. That’s what it felt like was happening inside of me. My soul – the very thing that made me me was being changed from the inside out. And it felt damn good!
It was after my Christmas vacation, after ten days of rest and relaxation with my family in Idaho, that I noticed an even bigger change. When I returned to the daily grind of my two jobs, I realized that my whole attitude – and, by extension, my whole outlook on life – had been transformed. I was no longer the angry, anxious, frustrated, fearful man that was always pissed about something – usually the people who were my customers. Before, I was short tempered, impatient, always inwardly complaining whenever those around me were being difficult or annoying me in some way. Now, however, I was at peace. The difference in my new attitude from the old was as glaring as night from day. I greeted my customers with a smile. It was no longer an effort for me to be patient with the difficult ones. Nor did I feel the need to rant and rage on social media about the problems of the world, as I had been doing practically non-stop before I became saved.
It was like being wrapped inside joy, as if joy was something tangible – like a big, soft, warm blanket fresh from the dryer. I had to constantly check my reflection because I was sure I had a giant, stupid grin on my face all day long. And that feeling only got stronger the more I continued to read my Bible – now an actual book that I had bought from Amazon – and pray. That, too, was getting better. I no longer stumbled over my words or forgot what I wanted to say. The hunger to know God, to build a new relationship with my Creator, overshadowed everything else in my life. I lost interest in many of the things that had once taken up all my time, like watching TV or playing video games. All I wanted to do every night when I got home from a busy day was to open God’s Word and keep reading.
But there was one thing that didn’t change during all of that wonderful transformation. I’m still gay. The desire for that sin is still there, as strong and lustful as ever. Everything else about me seems different. I am, indeed, a new creature in Christ. So why am I still gay? Why is this particular thorn still lodged firmly deep in my flesh?
I still don’t have an answer. But I do have a theory. The transformation of the new believer in Christ is not like wiping the old operating system of your ten year old iMac. With a computer you can install a whole new operating system that’s free of the bugs, viruses and malware that plagued the old system. The hardware is still the same old hardware, but the software is brand new. Your computer has been transformed. It performs and operates like a new machine.
But we humans are not machines. We are creatures born of the Fall. Being saved in Christ has made us like new, but the old self – the old, corrupt nature – is still there. The old operating system hasn’t been wiped away. Rather, the new OS is now installed, and the two systems are at war with one another. Why is that, I wonder? Why doesn’t God simply transform our sin nature by wiping it way when He fills us with the Holy Spirit? Wouldn’t that be easier – and more complete – than  forcing us to constantly battle our old selves in order to remain faithful and obedient to Him?
The honest answer is, I don’t know.
What I do know is that God, in His infinite wisdom, has chosen not to remove this particular thorn in my flesh. I am still gay.
           The thorn in my flesh. Yeah, that phrase sounds familiar. In fact, it’s been rolling around in the back of my brain for several weeks now.
In 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, Paul writes of the “thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan sent to buffet me.” Those four verses, more than any other Bible passages that I’ve read and also read about, have continued to echo within me ever since the beginning of this journey. Many pastors and scholars agree that that the thorn Paul speaks of was of a spiritual nature, not a physical. Paul says that he “…besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.”
The thorn in my flesh.
What if I am in the same seat as Paul? What if my sexuality is the ‘thorn’ in my own flesh?
I think that part of the reason that God doesn’t just snap his fingers and wipe away our old self is because, without those old, sinful desires and temptations, we wouldn’t continually come back to Him for mercy, grace and forgiveness. It might have taken a little longer for me to surrender if the outside world hadn’t melted down last year, but I have no doubt now that God has always been working in my life, and He wants my love, worship and obedience. My homosexuality is a reminder from Him that I have a choice: I can give in to my sin nature and indulge my own desires, or I can turn from the flesh, take up my cross daily, and follow Him.
God knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows our sin nature, and He knows that when times are good, when everything is going our way, we often forget Him – just as the Israelites did over and over in the Old Testament. We get wrapped up in our daily lives, turn away from Him, and give our worship to false idols instead; or we just pay Him our weekly rituals and sacrifice on Sunday, and then put aside our Bibles until the following week. But it’s during the times of adversity, when God allows the trials and tribulations of life to afflict us, that we come to Him. We seek Him because He is our only source of comfort and peace. The storms in our lives remind us that God alone can save us, can heal us. Our afflictions draw us closer to Him. And, if we remain faithful to Him, there is much reward for our devotion and service. When the storm has passed, we often find a rainbow.
The rainbow was God’s covenant with Noah and his descendants that God would never again destroy the world with a flood. In our modern world the homosexual revolution of fifty years ago took the rainbow as a symbol of pride and diversity. When I entered my adult life as an out and proud gay man, I, too, adopted the rainbow as a symbol of pride in myself. I vowed to live my life on my terms, and I wouldn’t be cowered or ashamed into silence about who I was, of what I had been born as. But, of course, I have renounced all of that since becoming a new child of God. It is NOT my life, but His as a gift to me. I live now in complete service to Him, and Him alone.
But I’m not quite ready to throw away my rainbow bracelet that I wear on my right wrist every day. It is still a symbol to me – and to everyone I meet in daily life – but not the one that it used to be. I have found a new place beneath the rainbow created by God in the aftermath of that flood in Genesis. The peace and reconciliation I have long sought has been found at last, and the rainbow is a symbol of both my old life and my new one in God’s service. I don’t find that conflicting at all, just as I have no problem calling myself a gay Christian. Until such time as God, in his perfect timing and wisdom, decides to change my unnatural desire completely, I will always be a gay Christian, and the rainbow will be a sign of my personal covenant with Him.
The process of reconciling this issue, the spiritual traveling and soul searching that I have done over the last few months, has shown me clearly that God is my Lord and Savior. He has allowed this affliction so that I would do the work that I needed to reconcile what appeared to be a crisis of faith. I wouldn’t have experienced personal growth in my life – and my faith – without this conflict and pain. Yes, it has been painful. Peeling back the faded scars of old wounds wasn’t not all pleasant. I had to go back to that fifteen-year-old kid and have a long talk with him. (See section 5 of this post.) I wrote letters to my parents and my three brothers, apologizing for the way I treated them all those years ago. I have recognized how selfishly I have been living my adult life, and the pride of my old nature has screamed fiercely whenever I bow my knee and my heart every morning in prayer. There is now a fight within me – the old nature vs. the new self – that will never let up until I die. And, sometimes, that fight will be painful. And yes, I already know that there are times when I will fail, when I will give in to the temptation to break my new vow with God. But that failure is not as important to God as whether or not I stay in the fight. And I will stay. I’m in this for the long haul, and I know without a shred of doubt that God is on my side. He wants me to succeed.
Hallelujah, amen!
 - 4 -
           Most of you have seen my post on Facebook from three days ago. My only answer from God to this twenty-four-year-old conflict has been a call to celibacy. Until such time as he chooses to change my sin nature, to change my unnatural desire into a natural one, I have made the following vow to Him:
           I take a vow of celibacy before God; that I have surrendered my life and my will unto Him; that I will not give in to the temptations of my sinful flesh; that I recognize my homosexual desire as a sin in His eyes, an abomination caused by the Fall; that He has saved my soul from eternal damnation, and I owe him nothing less than my whole heart, soul and mind.
           I take this vow on the 3rd of February, 2021.
           Amen.
 - 5 -
           I read a long time ago – probably in a textbook somewhere in college – that one of the tools therapists and psychiatrists use in their counseling of patients is to have their patients write a letter to their past selves. As I mentioned earlier in this post, I wrote letters to my family to apologize for how I had wronged them in the past. After some more thought and deliberation I decided to write one more letter, this time to that fifteen year old kid that used to be me.
           At first, I thought this a stupid idea. I mean, how much more clichéd can one get? Plus, I’ve already treaded into dangerously melodramatic waters in this post. Is yet one more emotional, sappy passage needed?
           Ehhhh…yes and no. Turns out, I had a lot more to say to myself than I thought at first, and, son-of-a-gun, I did feel remarkably better afterwards. Guess there was some genuine, therapeutic value to this little exercise after all.
           So…here it is.
 Hello.
It's been a long time.
Yes, I see you. You've been there all along, but only recently have I begun to really see you. You've been with me my whole adult life, affecting me, shaping me in ways I never realized until now. I thought I left you behind when I left high school. At various times in my life since, I've judged you, shunned you, tried to erase you, or just simply ignored you. I could never understand why you never had the courage to speak up, to ask for help. There were a few adults – or even your friends – who would have very likely sympathized and tried to help you. All you had to do was say something! But you didn't. You kept your secret, protecting it, guarding it like Gollum with his precious ring. I was the one who eventually had to reveal the secret to those around me when I was old enough and no longer ashamed of what I was.
           But now I realize that instead of judging you and blaming you, there's one thing that I should have done long ago. I never said, “Thank you.” Thank you for giving me the strength and courage to step into the world as a confident, independent adult. It was because of you, what you went through silently as a teenager, that I developed the strength and resolve to live my truth as an adult. It was because of you that I knew what I wanted in life. It was never my desire to just go with the flow, to blend into the crowd and do whatever everyone else was doing. I did my own thing. And yes, it would have been better if I had been living that truth within God's will, but God, in His infinite wisdom, decided not to work His will just yet. He chose to wait while I forged my own path.
           Part of me wishes that I could go back in time and be the adult that you needed. I would have embraced you, told you that you weren't a mistake; that God loves you just the way you are, including being gay. And, deep down inside, you knew that you were loved. Your parents told you that every day. But you always had that sliver of doubt in the back of your mind.
“Would you still love me if you knew my secret? Would you still accept me if I was gay?”
I, the adult looking back at you across the gulf of years between us, know the answer to that is a resounding “Yes! They have always loved you, no matter what!”
           Part of me also wonders how our life would have been different if you had reached out to the one person that understood what you were going through; the one that knew your pain – and your secret. It was He that made you, after all. What I can see so clearly now is that it never occurred to you to reach out to God. You only knew Him through the church, through your teachers, through your parents, through all the endless rules, and restrictions, and demands that they all placed on you. That's what you rebelled against. God, to you, was just a system, an institution that governed every corner of your life. That institution would never understand your secret, would never accept you for the real you.
           But He was there all along. He was there on those nights when you cried yourself to sleep. You were struggling to understand your pain, to understand the turmoil inside you, but you didn't have the words or the wisdom or the experience to fully realize it all. All that you knew was anger, frustration and fear. But God understood you, and He was there in the darkness, crying with you.
           I want so badly to be there now, to wrap you in my arms and wipe away your tears and tell you that everything will be okay. Because it will be. You can’t see it now, but things will get better. You will find a way through this, and you will emerge on the other side with a strength and resolve that you never knew you had within you. The rest of your life is an as-yet-unwritten map of joys and blessings, failures and setbacks, triumphs and successes that will make all of this suffering worthwhile. You will know happiness that you couldn’t dream of – most of it found within the family that you don’t understand or get along with now. (There are 10 nieces and nephews that think you’re the greatest uncle ever, for example.) God has a plan for you, and, like the father of the prodigal son, He will be there with open arms when you finally come back home. He will accept you, just as you are.
           But all of that is for later. For now, just know this: the storm will pass, and there will be peace.
           You will find your rainbow.
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fy-enhypen · 3 years
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“I want to show everyone I can keep growing” - NI-KI
NI-KI was rushing around but showed no signs of tiring out. He found the basketball hoop and kept taking shots until he made a basket and, whenever he could find the time, practiced his moves for the cover dance video. Until he achieved what he was going for. Your Korean has gotten a lot better.
NI-KI: I guess it’s because when I was a trainee I learned a lot from watching reality shows and audition shows like I-LAND, and the other members also taught me a bunch. We discuss a lot before filming anything. If there’s some grammar or words I don’t know, I go right to JAY, since he’s good at Japanese. I don’t have a hard time in everyday life, but sometimes I get help from others while filming when there’s something I’m not sure about.
I guess you must have had many opportunities to take in not only the language but also the culture.
NI-KI: The food culture is very different; I can’t really eat spicy food. I like boiled mandu with meat inside so I’ve eaten a lot of those. (laughs) I think I learned a lot about Korean history and traditional culture when I went to Gyeongbokgung Palace.
The modern hanbok Jung Kook from BTS gifted you is also symbolic of Korea’s heritage.
NI-KI: Yes, you’re right. I thought it was cool when I first got it because I was also learning another part of the culture, plus I was happy to receive a gift from him. I still wear it every day. (laughs) My teammates save their gifts for special occasions, but now I wear mine way more than any clothes I’ve ever worn. It feels like I get good energy from it.
Was there a reason you came here after performing as a kid dancer in Japan?
NI-KI: I saw some idols including SHINEE for the first time at the Tokyo Dome when I was in grade school—not only dancing, but performing while singing, and that really stuck in my mind. After that, I was determined to become an artist like them and be the one on that stage someday. So now, here I am, in Korea. Actually, the dance moves I learned when I first came to Korea were totally different from what I was used to doing. The singing was, too, so I felt I wasn’t good enough so I practiced every single day. Any time I learned a new move while I was a trainee, I made sure to practice it until it was perfect before the next class.
You had a bit of a crisis while practicing for your debut: You were sent to the GROUND on I-LAND. When you became the dance representative and lost, you held back your tears even as the others were crying, until the producers came to cheer you up, and then you finally burst into tears.
NI-KI: I felt terrible for losing, but I didn’t want my teammates to see me cry, so I held it in. But when the producers suddenly showed up … I was thinking how there were so many things that didn’t turn out well since starting I-LAND and had no idea what to do, but then the producers said we did a good job and suddenly I started crying too.
NI-KI: Up until that point, even though I wasn’t sure if I could debut, I just wanted to make sure I had no regrets, so I tried my best to show everyone who supported me how much I had grown. In the end, when all seven of us put our arms around each other’s shoulders, I thought, “Wow, we’re really debuting!” Looking back now, I think it was fate for us to be together. I’m happy to have been able to debut with them.
What’s it like to live with six older team members?
NI-KI: We take care of each other when we’re having a hard time or feeling sad. Our sense of teamwork is getting better every day, too. The others are still really considerate towards me, especially JAY, who I could easily communicate with by speaking Japanese. Now we use Korean except for when we’re joking around.
During the debut show, you said you feel closest to JUNGWON.
NI-KI: I think it’s easiest to talk with him because we’re the closest in age. They all take a joke well—I love to joke around—but JUNGWON is especially good about my pranks.
But you share a room with someone else. (laughs)
NI-KI: SUNOO and I sleep in the same room. There wasn’t much of a chance to be close with JUNGWON during I-LAND, and SUNOO and I shared a room back then, too, so I got used to sleeping with him.
The other members often brag on TV or social media about you, the youngest member. How do you feel when you hear them complimenting you like that?
NI-KI: It’s a little bit embarrassing. (laughs) I still have a long way to go, so I feel kind of self-conscious when they talk me up that much. But still, I like it when they say I dance well. Sometimes I feel like, “I nailed it this time,” and it feels good when I hear them say it, too.
You feel embarrassed when you receive compliments, but you give them out to the other members often. In the “Given-Taken” reaction video, you clap and tell them again and again how great they look.
NI-KI: I love to compliment my teammates. I’ll usually just say whatever’s on my mind. The music video really was that cool, and also touching. It was physically draining, filming for three days, but the video turned out so amazing that I felt like I became a fan, too, after seeing it.
While watching the video together, the other members saw your scenes and said it was all freestyle and that it was mind-blowing to see on the day. What did you aim to express?
NI-KI: I wanted to make a strong impression with my dancing in all the scenes, so I talked it over with the performance director and danced freestyle to make it look natural. I added a dark atmosphere to the “Dusk-Dawn” trailer by intentionally twisting my back like a zombie. I wanted to make a completely new character for the music video for the lead single. I was reminded of a movie I saw before, but I wanted to show people something that was my own.
In “Given-Taken,” you break free from the chain around your feet and float in midair, singing the lyrics, “Between giving and taking / It’s time for my proving.” What did these lyrics mean to you?
NI-KI: I’m still having a hard time with that. (laughs) Hmm … I imagined myself struggling between what I was given and what I had taken. The “given” part makes me think of everyone who supported me and my debut, and also maybe my talent and luck. And I have “taken” the debut by running towards my goal. When I was on I-LAND I worried whether I would be able to debut or not, but these days I worry whether I can do a good job as a member of ENHYPEN.
So you’re still worrying, even after your debut.
NI-KI: I was especially nervous and prepared a lot for the debut show since it was our first ever performance. I couldn’t actually meet the fans because of COVID-19, but I was really happy we could at least see their faces. I wanted to really thank everyone who watched our performance. When we went back home after the show, JUNGWON and I talked about how, “Even though we had some hard times leading up to our debut, it was touching to meet our fans through that surprise video.” And then fell asleep at around four in the morning. That’s the time I usually go to bed, and I always read the letters I got when I was on I-LAND before I fall asleep, even though I’m tired. They always give me strength.
Did looking at the fan reactions to your debut also give you strength?
NI-KI: It felt good when I read one comment saying it exceeded their expectations. There were some negative reactions, too, but I try to see those comments in a positive light. It makes me think how I can practice hard and put on an even better performance next time.
The fans also give you cute nicknames. Which one is your favorite?
NI-KI: Boongeoppang. If they draw a picture of NI-KI, I hope that a picture of a little fish shaped pastry is included too. (laughs) For me, it’s all about the red bean boongeoppang. The other flavors are good, too, but I like the simplicity of the red bean kind. I eat them head first. I like Puma, too. Some fans posted pictures of me, comparing when I started I-LAND and when we finished, and said I look like a puma.
That explains why you use the leopard emoji every time you post on the Internet. It looks like a puma.
NI-KI: I communicate online a lot since it’s impossible to meet people face to face right now. I’ll do my best to repay all the people who have supported me until now. I’ll keep that in mind when we perform. And I hope ENGENE and ENHYPEN can finally meet as one. I think it’ll be more fun to perform for them after not being able to meet them for so long. I imagine our fun future performances whenever we practice. When we get a chance to see them in person, the very first thing I want to do is thank them.
What does this future performance you see when you practice look like?
NI-KI: I remember how incredibly beautiful the lights in the audience looked from the stage, when I found my dream. I want the light from everyone’s light sticks to shine on me like they did then. And I think it’ll give me a boost when I hear all of them cheering. I want to put on a wonderful show for our fans—a performance that we can all enjoy together, where we can communicate with the fans, like if we ride around the whole arena giving out gifts like autographed balls or something.
You’ve said many times, “Dance is everything to me.” What exactly does dancing mean to you?
NI-KI: When I was three years old, my dad showed me a concert video. I remember how after that I would watch that video alone for, like, five hours every day, just practicing. That’s how much I liked dancing, and I want to keep dancing forever. I think that’s the most important feeling in my life.
What do you like most, other than dancing?
NI-KI: Microphones. Headset microphones. Even before I dreamed of becoming an idol, I saw performers wearing those headsets and thought that I wanted to wear one someday. I imagined myself with my own microphone and in-ear monitors, so now they’re very valuable things to me.
And your childhood dreams came true. Now, imagining further into the future, what kind of artist do you want to be remembered as?
NI-KI: An artist who gives a lot of people good energy, happiness, and can move them. I want to leave people with a lingering impression. My hope is that I can keep growing in every way.
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xxsanshinexx · 5 years
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The Prideful Seeker
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Characters: Gryffindor! Jongho x Ravenclaw! reader
Words: 3995
Synopsis: Choi Jongho never really cared about schooling, only Quidditch.  McGonagall plans to change that through you.
~
Choi Jongho was a bold, powerful, and exceptionally daring Gryffindor.
From the moment he set foot onto Hogwarts grounds, everyone knew that he would be a wizard with high potential
Especially as he grew, honing his powerful magic that seem to garner him the position as one of the best duelers on campus.
Not that any of the professors knew that fact but the students knew, and that was enough for them to give him a wide berth when he walked the halls
If not just for his reputation as one of the strongest wizards in his year, and possibly the whole school, he took full pride in his position as one of the best quidditch players Hogwarts had the pleasure of housing. 
With him on the team as seeker, Gryffindor had yet to lose a match for the entire school year.
It seemed, to anyone who watched Jongho play, that he was born to fly around on a broomstick at unbelievable speeds and win championships.
And that was all Jongho wanted to do with his life
Too bad he had to finish school before he could ever play for the Montrose Magpies.
While Jongho was an exception quidditch player and an unbelievably strong wizard, he lacked heavily in classes
Every student at Hogwarts strived for perfect scores for their future while all Jongho wanted was for class to be over so he could be off in the air again.
McGonagall took note of this once he nearly failed the Transfiguration test and he didn’t even give a sigh of defeat. She understood that Jongho loved little besides quidditch, but she couldn’t watch as he threw away a future in the wizarding world for something that couldn’t be permanent.
“Mr. Choi please come here,” Jongho let out a soft sigh as the rest of his classmates began to flee the room and he had to walk to the front of the class. 
“Yes professor?”
“Why are you trying to fail my class?” The bold question had a smirk cross Jongho’s lips. McGonagall was always his favorite professor, if not for her Quidditch knowledge than for her straightforwardness.
“With all due respect, professor.” Jongho said, shoving his hands inside of his uniforms pockets. “I have no interest. Not with just your class, but all of mine, so please don’t take it to heart.”
McGonagall scoffed in mock surprise, she had a feeling Jongho just had no passion for education. “You can’t just fail all of your classes, especially if you want to continue with a Quidditch career.”
“I’m not failing professor, I'm just not exceeding everyone’s expectations.”
“You’re lack of excellence could cost you your place in the professional quidditch world.”
“I’ve been promised a place as seeker for the montrose magpies once I finish school.”
“Not with these grades.” The glare McGonagall sent Jongho’s way made him take a deep breath, realizing he would never win in an argument against such a women. “I’m making you get a tutor.”
“A… you’re making me-what!?”
“You obviously can’t be trusted to raise your grades on your own, since you seem so keen you get by without them.”
A sense of dread and panic began to fill Jongho at McGonagall’s decree. His reputation would go down immediately if the student body found out he was getting a tutor; though it wasn’t like he needed it. “I can raise my grades without a tutor McGonagall.”
“You’ve yet to prove it, Mr. Choi, and besides you have no sway in this matter anymore.” She leaned back in her chair to stare up at the boy with discontent written across his features. “You meet with your tutor today, in an hour actually- i made sure you both had the same free period- in the library. The fourth row of books and turn left, they should be at the table in the back there.”
Jongho’s sigh signified he had accepted the fate McGonagall had casted upon him, “Fine. Who is it?”
“Y/n L/n, Ravenclaw same year as you. I made sure this one would not be swindled by your… antics.”
Jongho knew of you, the Ravenclaw everyone steered clear of. The one with the books in hand, the glare in their eyes, and a strong stride through the hallways. Without a doubt, you were not someone people messed with and Jongho knew McGonagall had picked you specifically because of that; you and Jongho together were sure to be a treat. 
And there you sat, an hour before dinner surrounded by all kinds of books in the back of the library. McGonagall had told you about her little situation, and while you were not thrilled about helping, the thought of having at least one teacher swayed in your favor was alluring. As was the promised house points. 
You knew little about the alluring Choi Jongho, but truly, nobody knew anything about him besides the fact that he was a young quidditch God and he could kill someone both by dueling and using his bare hands. Those facts did little to scare you, unlike the rest of your peers who gave Jongho as much room as he wanted in the halls. 
“So, you’re y/n?” an unamused voice asked from infront of you and you scoffed, gesturing to the seat before you without looking up from your parchment.
“So i see i’m easily forgotten, Jongho?” You had shared multiple classes with the daring gryffindor before; years of transfiguration and defence of the dark arts, you figured he would have at least remembered your face. 
“Of course not,” His laugh was as he took a seat in the chair across from him, “It’s hard to forget the one ravenclaw that nearly beat me in a duel.”
It had to have been a year or so ago when you and Jongho had gotten paired together in the dueling club. He was a cocky prick and you were still memorizing spell after spell; it made for an interesting duel that you ultimately lost, but not after some rather dirty moves.
“I’d figure you’d have forgotten that, for the sake of your pride of course.”
“It’s hard to forget when Seonghwa will never let me forget that day.”
Yes the Ravenclaw prefect had been there for your duel and you remember his face of sheer joy when you hexed Jongho like your life depended on it. With how his attitude was back then, your life probably was on the line. 
“I’m sure he does, i’ve never seen him so happy before.” You finally looked up from your parchment and met the amused eyes of Jongho. Despite being a terror to the public, he was still heavily attractive. With his messy brown hair and lips that seemed to be permanently tilted upwards into a smirk. At least your eyes would get something good out of this tutoring. 
He leaned forward with his arms pressed to the table, and you watched as his eyebrow raised, “How about we both just say we met to McGonagall and leave? You won’t have to waste your breath and I can go about doing whatever I want.”
You mimicked his position, arms resting against the counter top as you leaned forward, speaking in a hushed tone. “House points are a bit more reliable than you, Jongho.”
“McGonagall would never know, you’d get your house points and you’d get away from me.”
“And if McGonagall found out?”
“She won’t.”
You scoffed and leaned back, “You’re very sure for a boy who’s failing all of his classes.”
“Classes have nothing to do with if you’re street smart.” He challenged and you could only shake your head as you slid a mock test across the table to him. 
“I hope your words match your brain.” His face fell to one of annoyance at your words and you smiled, “For the both of us.”
As you guessed, his brain did not match his words. Jongho was plenty smart but not in the way that would get him out of Hogwarts on time. While he didn’t fail that test, he still had a lot of work to do. And so the deal he wanted so badly was called off, even if he was a pain in the ass to teach. 
He never payed attention for more than five minutes, he never wrote anything down saying he would remember it, and he never got more than a 65 on his tests even if you were sure he knew everything. Even after countless days of going over multiple classes not just transfiguration you were beginning to lose your hope for the boy.
You were back in the library in the same spot you always were, a piece of parchment rested on your legs that were kicked up on the table. Again, you were going over the list that McGonagall had written for you with barely any of it ticked off. She had told you only to check boxes off once he had gotten an 80 or better on the mock tests. 
“A bit more rebellious today I see.” Jongho chuckled as he took his spot across from you, eyes trailing over your kicked up legs and appearance. True, you rarely gave up on your prim and proper ravenclaw look but today had been exhausting. A day full of exams and harsh lectures; you couldn’t stand to be seen in your robes after the final class ended and it seemed neither did Jongho. Instead of his undid gryffindor tie and unbuttoned shirt, he came in a grey sweatshirt and track pants; with his legs kicked up on the table much like yours. 
While his grades were always relatively disappointing, Jongho had begun to liven up to you. His once pisspoor demeanor and cocky attitude dissolved after the first week of tutoring. He was now more laid back and gave a little smile more often compared to the stoic boy who walked the halls with a cocky smirk. 
“I’m tired and this isn’t exactly what I want to be doing.” You said curtly, rubbing a tired hand over your face as you finally looked up to the Gryffindor boy, surprised to find a hint of concern in his eyes. 
“I’m hurt Y/n,” he grinned but it disappeared quickly as your lips wouldn’t change from a frown. “What’s got you so grumpy?”
“Why can’t you just pass a test Jongho?” You sighed, bringing your feet off the table and resting your head in your hands. “I know you can you damn gryffindor.”
“Why do you think I can’t?” Jongho’s voice was serious enough for you to snap your head up. While you had seen Jongho serious numerous times, this one seemed different; more personal. It made something in that brilliant brain of your click.
“You...this is all because you don’t want to… Isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, not by the way you could see his eyes and the emotions they so easily gave away. If people looked Jongho in the eyes instead of at the wand in his hand, they would see him much differently.
“I thought the Ravenclaw would have found it out faster than three weeks.”
You huffed and shook your head, leaning back with a sigh,“I should have figured that out faster. This all makes so much more sense now.”
“Just because I said I chose to fail doesn’t mean this all makes sense.”
“It really does,” You met Jongho’s eyes that danced with unreadable emotions. This was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable and angry for a long time. “You don’t want to do school because you just don’t want to... It’s why you like quidditch so much, it’s your getaway- or whatever you want to call it. I just don’t get why. Lack of interest? The teachers? The-”
“My parents?” He added to your list and you became quiet quickly, wanting him to speak. His voice was hushed as he spoke, his hands playing with the ends of his hoodie strings; it was the first sign of nerves you had ever seen from him. “I’m pureblood you know. The standards and expectations are there. My family’s expectations are high intelligence and excelling in education, they don’t give a shit about passions like quidditch.”
“You fail out of spite.” Your words were cautious and he shrugged, giving a soft nod.
“You could call it that. My childhood was a whirlwind of studying, and studying and studying. I knew all the material for Hogwarts by the age I was nine. I fail, because it’s the only thing I can think of to get their attention… make them realize I despise what they did with my youth.” 
You had never expected such a back story from the resident bad boy of Hogwarts, but as he spoke, the way he acted began to make sense. You began to regret ever making fun of his intelligence or the way he acted or the way he would talk when he first started school. He just wanted to be someone his parents were purely against. 
“You know,” There was a small smile on your face as you spoke, your words breathy and light, and all the more captivating to Jongho, “I’ve heard worse villain origin stories.” 
For one of the first times since you had began tutoring him, he laughed, whole and hearty, at your attempt to lighten the atmosphere. You realized, as he curled into himself as he giggled, that this was the first time you had heard Jongho laugh without the restrictions he had placed on himself. It was a sight that was pure. 
“Usually,” He said in between fits of laughter, “People would say I’m so sorry to my sob story.”
“I’m not exactly people, Jongho. To put up with your ass you have to be a little more than just people.”
“I know,” he leaned back in his seat with a blissful smile and it made you feel warm. Maybe it was just the sweatshirt you had on making you feel so hot. “Can we skip the studying tonight?”
“Why? You plan to tell me your life story and dip?” You smiled at the way he shook his head at your words, clearly not taking them to heart.
“No… well yes ditch studying I’ve had enough of that in my life… but… uh-” He paused and began to fidget with his hoodie strings once again. “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Me?” You were sure your words were like a squeak, vocalizing the shock that was flooding your systems. “And where?”
“You ask too many questions, can you please just say yes?” He huffed and sat up, but you noticed the way he now avoided your gaze and how he gnawed on his lip. 
“Yes.”
You were surprised by how sure you were of your answer, and by the way his eyes widened; Jongho was too. Still, despite his previous attitude and his secluded nature, you enjoyed seeing Jongho come to life before you. In the way he wouldn’t let others see him. It’s what made your answer so sure.
“Lets go than,” His voice was quiet as he stood up and gestured for you to follow him. Most of Hogwarts was quiet as you snaked your way along the corridors that were now dimly lit. No doubt it was beginning to get close to curfew. 
“Jongho,” You voice was quiet amongst the empty halls, “Where are we going?”
“My favorite spot in Hogwarts,” He looked back at you who surveyed the dark walls with worried eyes. You had never broken a rule before, despite all your hot talk and dark looks; and the ambiance of the castle was making you feel like you were breaking all of them. A frown made its way onto Jongho’s lips at your state and he tentatively reached for your hand that was closing and unclosing at your side. At the light touch, you snapped your head to meet Jongho’s eyes feeling your fear begin to dwindle down slightly, “Nothing’s going to come out of the walls and get you, Y/n. Relax.”
You nodded at his words and followed him along the dark corridors, except this time you had Jongho’s hand to hold onto tightly. It was.... Undoubtedly nice to hold his hand; it fit with yours pretty nicely and provided a comfort against all the paintings with their eyes following your movements. 
“Why do the painting have to be enchanted,” You huffed against Jongho’s arm as he turned towards a large door.
“Well, lucky you, were here.” He smiled back at you as he tried his best to push open the metal door quietly, peeking his head out before pulling you along with him. Jongho left out the fact that what the two of you were doing would get you in trouble if you were caught.
You frowned at the open hills and the picture perfect view of the hogwarts landscape before you. It was beautiful and you never expected a place like this to be Jongho’s favorite; but the boy had been surprising you a lot in the past hour. 
“This is your favorite place in Hogwarts?” You asked bewildered, not noticing Jongho slip his fingers from yours as you marveled at the view.
“Of course,” There was rustling to the left of you and you watched as Jongho dug around in a bush, coming up only once he had a broomstick in his hands. “It’s the best place to practice Quidditch.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
“You know Quidditch is my life,” He smiled, letting the broom levitate before the both of you as he turned to you, taking your hand back in his own. “Now I want to tell you that while this place may look pretty great from right here… it’s even better up in the air.”
Jongho was surprised to see your face pale at the statement, “I think now is a good time to say that I’m terrified of heights.”
The ravenclaw who seemed like they would stare god in the face and win, was scared of heights. The situation put the ghost of a smile on Jongho’s face, especially as he leaned down to your height, hand still clutching your own. “Do you trust me?”
“Will you not throw me off the broomstick… or go very high and fast…?”
“You have my word.” 
His grin was enough for you to nod your head, “Then yes… I trust you.”
Gently, he pulled you over to the broomstick that was hovering off the ground on its own. He took his spot before taking you by the hand again, tugging you towards the piece of wood that had the ability to fly off high in the air. 
“It’ll be okay, I won’t let anything happen to you.” You hated that you trusted him enough to get on that damn broomstick. Your back was pressed against his front and you could make out the smell of dirt and pine that surrounded him. The scent only continued to engulf you as he leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the front of the broomstick; successfully encasing you with his body though you weren’t complaining.
“You might want to close your eyes,” He whispered from where his head rested against your shoulder; but you were barely paying attention to the proximity. At his words, you shut your eyes tightly and couldn’t help yourself from gripping his arms tightly with your hands as you felt gravity begin to try and pull you back down to earth. The wind and the cold breeze of the night attacked your face and hair and it gave you all the insight into how far up Jongho had flown up. 
“Jongho, I thought you said you weren’t going up very high!” You had to shout over the wind and you could feel him chuckle against your ear. 
“We aren’t that high, thirty feet max.”
“Thirty feet!?” You felt the two of you stall in the air but you wouldn’t open your eyes. Didn’t think you really could. 
“Yes thirty feet, it’s really not that bad.” Jongho said and you felt him move his arms from their spot on the broom stick to sit around your waist. Maybe it was your fear that made you not want to push him away, “You can open your eyes.”
You opened your eyes slowly, and once you caught sight of the wonders from up high, they opened widely on their own. From here you could see the lake, the forbidden forest, and the wonder that was the castle. With the moon shining down on the land and the stars behind it, it was really a sight straight out of a storybook. 
“It’s beautiful…” You whispered and the hot breath from Jongho’s chuckle blew across the shell of your ear.
“Bloody beautiful at daybreak too.” He whispered and the pair of you fell into a comfortable silence. Your eyes roamed over the new scene unable to take it all in at once and Jongho watched, a smitten smile on his face. He knew you would love it, no matter how bad your fear of heights was.
“I…” It was the first words spoken between the two of you for several minutes, “I see why you like this is all so much.”
“Gotten over your fear so quickly? Huh (princess/prince)?” He laughed and you had to try to suppress the smile on your face at the nickname. You were sure he could feel your heart beginning to erratically beat as well.
“No.. no I haven’t.” You muttered turning your head slightly to meet his cheerful expression, “Which by the way… can we go down please? We’ve been up here a while.”
You watched as air passed between his grinning lips, fanning over your nose as he nodded. “Fine, whatever you say.”
He was true to his word and slowly, without you having to close your eyes this time, he floated you back down to the green floor. Once he pressed his foot against the ground, you crawled off the broom, thankfully to have your feet on the ground once again even if the experience was one that was magical. 
Jongho laughed at your relieved expression and you couldn’t help but notice how truly boyish he looked in the moment. With the messy hair, the hoodie and the youthful grin; you wished this version of him came alive more. Or maybe you wanted to keep this version of him for yourself. 
“You know,” He said, kicking his feet as he stayed floating above the ground, “You should come watch me play one of these days, gryffindor colors and all.”
“I think that’s a bit too far for me,” You said but the idea of seeing him in his element, up in the air and free; was alluring to you. You had never been to a quidditch game before but now you had a motive. 
“Fine, fine…” Jongho pouted before giving you a small, hopeful smile, “How about this? If I pass all of my next tests, you’ll come to my next game… and hopefully hogsmeade with me after that?”
You laughed to yourself and stepped forward, so you could see the excitement flash in Jongho’s eyes a little more clearly. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“After the bet… yeah.”
You grinned and laughed, loving the way this enigmatic boy could make you feel. “Pass your test first-” You reached up in a spur of confidence and gently pressed your lips to his cheeks, careful not to miss the sight of the ruby coloring breaking out across his features. “Then we’ll talk.”
“O-Okay,” Jongho squeaked out, raising his hand to his cheek as he watched you walk away, casting him uncontainable smiles over your shoulder until you slipped back into the castle’s doors. 
It was safe to say, Jongho never needed a study session again.
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fandom-necromancer · 4 years
Text
Fight of love and reason
This was prompted by the super awesome @aurea-b! Enjoy! Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900
'Nines? I have to- have to phhhh. Phhhhhhh. Phhcking tell you something!' 'Yeah, Gav, go for it!', Tina cheered the man who was barely holding himself together half laying on the table. 'I... I... I...' 'You?', Connor helped out giggling. 'Shuddup!', Gavin shouted, before getting back to finding words. They had been so clear just minutes ago, but now his brain was just a mass of alcohol induced idiocy. 'I... I don't phcking hate you!' He grinned like a madman, looking at Nines expecting an answer. Nines chuckled next to him. 'Big announcement for you, Gavin, but I knew that already. I think it's time I bring him home, he had enough. Before he starts telling us Kamski is his big brother.' 'He is?', Allen asked, and Hank nodded laughing. ‘'Tis true...' 'Well, we know who inherited all the intelligence then...' Nines was working on getting Gavin to his feet and ignored the nab at his partner. There was no need to defend him, he reminded himself. Gavin was rather intelligent, just not in the way he talked or handled other persons and that was perfectly fine. 'We'll see each other on Monday then', the RK900 said before taking his leave, Gavin hooked under. 'Take care!'
It was something of a blur how he had gotten into the car, but now that Gavin was alone with the android in an enclosed space, his sight was clear as day again. Why hadn't the android answered with the right words? What had he said just minutes ago? Ah, shit that hadn't been what he had meant to say... 'Hey, Nines?' 'Yes Detective?' 'Where we driving to?' 'I'm bringing you home. You are inebriated and the headache tomorrow will be bad enough.' 'Oh, that's nice', he lulled and forced his last braincells to think about what he wanted to tell him. It was something he couldn't say when sober but needed that perfect stage of drunk but sane for. That stage he had far passed already. Nines halted the car not much later, helping Gavin up, who only got back to full awareness when he was laid on his bed, tucked in like a child. 'Nines, I really have to tell you something!', he said in a last attempt, but was shut down immediately: 'Sleep, Gavin. Sober up and tell me on Monday, okay?'
-
Of course, Gavin, didn’t tell him on Monday. What he wanted to say to him was… ridiculous at best. The damn android would laugh at him, tell Connor and the whole world and they would all laugh at him together. Okay, no, that wouldn’t happen, but it would be what he would feel like when Nines rejected him in his usual factual and polite manner. Because there was no way he would say yes. No way he would want to be friends afterwards, too. Gavin knew he was overthinking again, staring at his empty coffee mug just not to look into this face, this perfectly modelled android face… No. He couldn’t tell the man when sober. It would be a challenge doing so when drunk. Maybe he just wouldn’t do It at all and wait until his feelings subsided.
-
‘And then the asshole tried to kick me!’, Tina cried out pretended to be deeply hurt by the memory. ‘But then Chris here’, she elbowed the man in the side, heavier than expected apparently, because he immediately folded in on himself holding his side. ‘Chris came to my rescue! I swear, if I was interested in men, that would have been such a moment.’ Laughter branded over the group and Gavin felt weirdly detached all of sudden. He had cut back on the drinks, planning to really talk to Nines this time. He just had to let the alcohol melt his damn walls down, so he could finally do it. He even annoyed himself already, being trapped in that endless loop of wanting and denying himself over and over again.
‘Hey, how about drinking games?’, Sixty proposed. ‘You can’t even drink!’, Tina claimed and looked down on her glass. ‘But you can. And seeing the most advanced organic species on the planet get positively wasted is always amusing to watch.’ Tina shrugged and nodded: ‘Good enough of a reason for me. Chris? Gavin? You up?’ Well, so much for staying abstinent this evening…
-
‘Niiiines… Have I ever told you, you are beautiful?’ He was half hanging in the android’s grip, looking up to him as he closed the door to his apartment behind him. ‘No, you haven’t. And I won’t count this in either, Detective, you are drunk.’ ‘Nah, you can count that shit in. People are more honest when intoxicated’, Gavin slurred, shuffling off to the bedroom. ‘I believe humans are just more talkative and not really themselves in that state, Gavin. You are the best example. You are far more likeable when you are not throwing curses at everyone unfortunate enough to be in hearing distance.’ ‘Aw, cooome on! You like that, deep down!’ Weren’t Gavin so drunk, he would have seen the slight blue blush rising up on Nines cheeks. ‘You should sleep, Detective.’ ‘Don’t wanna… Wanna tell you something. Come a bit nearer!’ Surprisingly, Nines did, just slightly turning his face not to get spammed by analysing prompts of the man’s breath. ‘‘M gonna tell you a secret. But don’t tell anyone!’ Nines nodded, smirking. ‘You smell like a new car. I like that smell.’
Yep. Again, not what he had wanted to say at all.
-
‘Shots! Shots! Shots!’, Tina was chanting much to Gavin’s chagrin. ‘Nah, go wild Tina, but I’ll stay with beer.’ That had the whole table’s attention on him. Tina, Chris, Allen, Sixty and Nines were all staring at him as if he had just pronounced to never swear ever again in his life. ‘What? I have something important to do this evening, okay? I can get drunk, but not too drunk.’ ‘Gav, you getting boring?’, Tina asked disappointed. ‘No, just today, okay?’ Sixty sighed. ‘Don’t worry, Allen will play along.’ ‘I’ll do what?’
-
Again, Gavin had drunken a bit beyond that line of control. But he was still able to think and maybe that was just the right amount to finally throw his brain away and talk to Nines. The android sat next to him in the car again, driving to his apartment. Their drive had been silent, but somehow Gavin wanted to break it. He just didn’t know how to. In the end it was Nines: ‘I appreciate you drank less today.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yes. It has me less worried about your prolonged lifespan.’ ‘Awwwww, so youuuu are worried about meee?’ ‘Forget what I said, you should drink even less next time.’ ‘Come on, admit it. You like me drunk.’ ‘I don’t… I don’t appreciate you playing with your health. But it’s true your personality becomes a bit more bearable.’ ‘Heh, good point, toaster’, Gavin laughed, as Nines parked his car. 'You need me to help you up there?', Nines asked, and Gavin nodded. Partly because it was easier to talk to him when he was with him at home, partly because he really needed the help. Walking a straight line was a challenge.
They walked up to the building and took the elevator this time. Stairs would have been a bad idea in this situation. They entered Gavin’s apartment and Nines already guided him to the shower. But other than normal days, Gavin struggled. ‘Gavin, please. You can’t go to bed like this. You smell of booze and sweat.’ ‘Noooo, Nines, I gotta tell you something! Really do it this time!’, Gavin near whined. ‘Don’t worry, drunk you already told me I look good and that I smell nice, I don’t think I can take any more compliments.’ ‘Fine, I’ll shower. But you will be there when I get back, right?’ Nines sighed. ‘I will be, Gavin. I’m going to feed the cats for you.’
Gavin hurried to the bathroom, dropping his clothes to the ground to jump under the stream. Shit. Now was the time to do it. He had to confront Nines once he was finished. But how? Nines, look at me, I’m your boyfriend now! No. No, no, no, no! Phck. Hey, I got a mad crush on you since forever. Too phcking direct! Hey Nines, all the time I told you we had to talk? I wanted to say I love you but was too much of a chicken-shit to do it. Yeah hell no. Goddamnit. He punched the wall, knocking some bottles of shampoo down in the process. Phck. ‘Gavin? You okay in there?’ The man sighed upon the worried call. ‘Yeah, everything is fine. Won’t take much longer!’ He let the bottles lay on the ground and held his face into the stream, wishing it could wash his thoughts away. Just be spontaneous! You have asked out people already, this is no difference! Except it was. That had always been just hook-ups, this with Nines was… real.
He walked out of the shower, rubbing himself dry and put on something comfortable to sleep. As he walked outside, Nines was standing at the door smiling at him carefully. ‘Are you okay? Your stress levels are exceeding…’ The android let the tone ring out at Gavin’s stare, misinterpreting it dearly. ‘I’ll, err… I’ll take my leave then.’ ‘No!’, Gavin was quick to call out and sounded all too eager, too. Maybe that did it, because the RK900 closed the door again. ‘I mean, err… Would you like to stay for a bit?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Oh, just… You know. Talk a bit? Watch a movie? Only if you want to, of course.’ Nines was thinking, but then nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll stay for a bit. What do you want to talk about?’
Ah shit, this was the moment now. All in or run away again? No, there was only forwards now. Else he would never do it. He closed his eyes and pressed out whatever came to his mind in record time: ‘HeycrushatmeItalkyourlovenow!’ Phck. Nines’ LED quickly changed to red, the android closing in on Gavin to grip him by the shoulders. ‘Gavin, everything alright? Did you hit your head in the shower? Is this a seizure?’ ‘Nines, no’, Gavin just sighed weakly. ‘I’m just super bad at this.’ ‘Calm down, okay?’ The android guided him to the sofa and sat down next to him. ‘Calm down. What do you want to tell me?’ ‘I want to- Ah, goddamnit Nines, swear you won’t laugh at me?’ ‘Never.’ ‘I… I think I love you.’ He wanted that to be the only thing he said, but as the milliseconds ticked by his thoughts ran for their lives, thinking the shortly stretching silence was equal to deep appal and disgust. ‘I mean, kinda ever since you came into the precinct you were smoking hot and you know, I like tall dudes, but you were also terrifying at first, so I just thought this was my end, but then we got partnered up and I got to know you and I found out I really, really liked you and I-‘ ‘Stop.’
It was as if Nines had ripped out his heart and held it in his hand now, inspecting it to try and figure out whether to hold it dear or let it drop to the ground laughing. But of course, he wouldn’t be so cruel, right? This was Nines after all. ‘Gavin. I need you to take a breath. All these times when you drank and told me you needed to talk to me, this was what you meant?’ ‘Yes?’, Gavin answered weakly, the word itself just another insecure question. ‘Fuck me…’ It was spoken under his breath, not supposed to be heard, but the apartment was silent and had Nines just sworn?
‘So, err… What do you say? Am I a total idiot? Because that would be totally okay with me, if you don’t feel the same I can just push this shit down, we can still be friends, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and-‘ ‘Shut up, Gavin, please.’ Oh yeah that was just the worse, why couldn’t Gavin just let it be? He had just sabotaged everything dear to him. Nines looked him in the eyes and grinned. ‘I mean, yes, you are a total idiot, but that I knew before. I never would have thought for you to feel the same.’ ‘Wait, what?’ ‘I… Ever since becoming a deviant I started to really feel… I mean, emotions were there since the beginning, but… It just gets so much more real once it isn’t just simulated but real. And I always felt guilty, because you didn’t like androids and you didn’t ask to be partnered up with you and… I think – I know – I’m in love with you, too.’
‘Wow. Okay, that’s super cool!’ Gavin knew his cheeks had to be a deep red, but he still couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. ‘But you aren’t just saying that, are you? You mean it?’ ‘I mean it.’ ‘Then why didn’t you say something?’ ‘Why didn’t you say something, Gavin? I never expected you to fall for me, so I felt guilty feeling like I did. I weighted our friendship more important to risk it this easily.’ ‘God, we’re both total idiots, then.’ ‘Just another thing to share’, Nines answered and laid his arms around Gavin, carefully as if testing the waters how much he would allow. But as Gavin didn’t do anything to stop him, he basically melted against him, holding him closed murmuring: ‘I imagined doing this for so long…’ And Gavin raised his hands too, to let them meet in Nines back, resting his head at the android’s collarbone. He would never admit he had this fantasy too, along with many others. Because this shit felt too good and words just couldn’t do it justice. This was perfect.
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spacegaywritings · 4 years
Text
Hello, we are the Neighbours - 1/2
Heated Afternoons
Summary: Virgil and Remy have been close for years. Remy is rather shy with new people but supposed to introduce himself to the new neighbours - of course Virgil is around to help his friend! Turns out, the boring old neighbours have a hot adolescent and fae are pretty hot. Virgil uses she/her and he/him. Remy uses he/him. Emile uses they/fae.
tags: a LOT of swearwords, edginess, Teenagers scare the living shit out of me, weapon mention, hints at violence, slight creep factor, being salty at authority, lovingly insulting one another, food, piercings, kisses, bold moves, innuendo, visual puns, cigarettes (no smoking!), edibles, mentions of getting high, marijuana (implied), saying mean things about your mom but not really meaning it bc social anxiety ah Tumblr: next // ao3: all / 1 / 2 . // masterlist . My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me Story under the cut:
“I can’t believe she is doing that. This little bitch. I swear to fucking everything unholy, I will move out the second this stupid university accepts me.”
 Virgil glanced at his friend, the long man fidgeting wildly as he fumbled with his house keys.
 “You got them or not?”
 The addressed adult shot him an angry glare.
 “Of fucking course I do! Do you take me for an idiot, too?”
 The smaller one shrugged, his black and blue beanie moving a bit as if to shake itself in denial at the mean sound.
 “Do I look like I care that you are a crazy dog? I kinda stopped at some point, if you did not notice it before. Just for clarification, Riri.”
 Virgil flicked the rainbow button on his beanie heartlessly.
 “Can we go before your mom comes back and makes us bring these shitty biscuits, too? “
 Remy snorted in offence and pushed the little box with his elbow, not even sparing it a glance.
 “What-fucking-ever. Let us just go. Can’t take this shit with these two treating me like I am five. I am literally done with school and just waiting for an acceptance letter, I am even working and saving up and they still treat men like I am some fucking toddler who cannot even walk straight!”
 His friend rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the counter.
 “Yo, I am willing to babysit you, stop acting like that. I am allowed to baby you!”
 He heard a hissing sound when Remy sucked an annoyed breath through his teeth. His rainbow knee socks contrasted greatly with his sour mood. His whole outfit was about the opposite of everything people would expect from him. Except for his black combat boots. Those looked exactly like his knife-stabbing mood towards the whole world (well, safe for his friend Virgil. She would be safe for now.)
The young adult looked like the embodiment of sunshine and rainbows with the bright pair of knee socks hugging up his strong legs. His plain black skirt was lacy and lazy in the way it fell over his thighs. Askew, like the neon pink bow in his shoulder-long hazel hair. A white shirt saying “Sleep” in holographic block letters completed the odd look he offered. It was so huge, it was wearing Remy more than he wore it.
 Virgil shrugged, her unicorn/bunny onesie (“Virgil, this shit literally has a fucking tail like some of Bambi’s followers, not like a proud, rainbow-shitting creature to break laws and eat tears with supernatural ‘fuck you’ magic!” - “Shut up, maybe it was declared a unicorn because maybe this is what it feels like you intolerant moron”) called “Philly” largely encompassing her frame. It was white and pink - the little tail was as rainbow as the rest of his heart and mind.
..Even if nobody could see that.
 “You will get the biscuits if you are fast enough with me. Get your ass going!”
 Remy pocketed his keys at last and stuck his pink tongue out at his friend.
 “You were literally the one to keep dragging this whole thing out”, Virgil reminded him patiently, her hand digging into the soft pockets of whatever synthetic cheap-ass shit her comfortable dream suit was made of.
“You know, you got me and I look nice but I will fuck up a dude if he fucks with my little baby.”
 Something about her voice seemed to drop into a level of threat. Something... just something in his voice was so morbidly dark, it gave Remy chills for just a moment.
 He muttered, walking to the door.
 “I will not take you to the ice rink anymore if you flash a fucking knife, you silly bunnycorn.”
 Virgil followed, by now two unwrapped lollipops in hand. He stretched one into her friend’s direction, barely nudging his lips. It was coke and almost as dark as Remy’s raven, makeup on his mouth.
 “Bunnycorn sounds debatable. You may use it and I will refrain from stabbing you. Also, you know I dropped my butterfly into the fucking gutter. I will never get it out. Can’t exactly tell the cops I found an illegal weapon in there but want it out and in my possession. Too suspicious. They will get me locked up or some shit. I am not 13 anymore and they will fuck me up.”
 She shrugged.
 “Whatever. Eat the pop, bro”, he encouraged as she slipped the sweet ball on a stick into his mouth. The unicorn ripped the door open and swung it to the side so violently, the hinges cried and her body leaned in to follow the force her hand needed to contain.
 “Ooops, you are an eager piece of shit”
 Virgil shrugged and jumped down the little set of stone stairs. It was like these blocks of cobble stone. They were uneven and ugly. Truly hideous and useless.
A ramp would have been so much better, especially considering those were the flattest two steps of shit he had ever seen in his life. At least then Remy’s family would be able to get Remus in without carrying his stupid wheelchair - or needing to buy a fucking lift or whatever they usually did. Stairs sucked anyway. This house was on the fucking ground, not in the sky.
 “I fucking hate your parents sometimes, not gonna lie, dude.”
 Remy shrugged at that.
 “Feel that every day, pal.”
 His friend smiled patiently as he closed and locked the door behind him, careful not to break it further. The door was okay but Virgil*s consistently energetic treatment was not.
 “Okay, whatever. Let us get to those neighbours. I am ready for the real shit going down!”
 Virgil hopped on her bare feet, the jingles on her earring dancing and chanting happily.
Suddenly, she stooped and flinched, her hands immediately flying to undo her buttons.
 “Yo- Yo what are you doing? Stop ch- WH - WHAt the FUCK ?!”
 The small social reject nudged the other and pointed her wet lollipop at him. There was judgement in his determined eyes.
 “If you wanna introduce yourself to the neighbours, you gotta establish dominance. We are gonna out-weird these boomers! This is the perfect strategy to make sure they are gonna leave ya and your dummy thicc brother alone.”
 The unicorn happily danced.... or just prepared for a violent attack at something.. someone. She was charging her energy. The ketchup paint on her pink undershirt assembled to say “Tell Jesus to suck harder”. It was framing the upper and lower parts of the shirt, perfectly framing the upside-down paragraph on it.
 “We are going. I want my stupid biscuits because your mom does not use raisins. She used fucking sprinkles and chocolate. This is my fucking aesthetic.”
A shrug accompanied the statement.
“Who likes raising biscuits anyway, I mean - really? Those are sad ones and if you don’t have any better, you take it but we are all striving for higher things in life.”
 Remy rolled his eyes but softly approached his friend. There was something vulnerable in his step when he offhandedly looked at Virgil, no scowl or complaints hiding away the feelings in his face.
A little bit of pain seemed to paint his features, exceeding the simple level of discomfort. He stretched his arms out for a hug.
His trusty idiot of a friend immediately pulled him in, her arms wrapping around his middle. A sigh tickled his neck.
 “I will fight your feelings”, he mumbled.
The taller one shook his head before shrugging.
“Just stay...”
 The sentence broke off.
Maybe it was just Virgil but these two words were just a part of so much more he could and should have said.
 Instead, the tall dude stretched his shoulders enough to tug his arms away from Virgil’s strong hug. It was nearly suffocating but not him, his bad feelings.
Virgil had the most grounding hugs Remy had ever felt. This could be all due to the bunny costume he was wearing but this was not the first time Remy got her embraces and suddenly felt wiped clean of all the bad feelings.
 A small smile dared to fly the corners of his lips upwards.
 “If she bitches around, we will dip. I will doubt it, though. She’s gonna be busy with Remus because fawning over him will never get tired.”
 He shrugged. It was quick and unconvincing.
After the shrug, his shoulders still seemed pulled down enough to be identified as “burdened”.
Virgil noted it with an eyebrow raise. She was too wrapped up around the lollipop to turn this matter into a long and wild evaluation of this family and all its issues.
They were better off than his stupid shit relatives anyway.
 “Hey, hottie, did I tell you about Logan?”, he asked instead. Something in Remy seemed to drop and he brushed against Virgil’s side as he took one of her hands and squeezed it.
 “No, tell me while we walk. What about Logan? Who is this even?”
 Remy was tame when grounded. He was so tame and nice when you were nice.
The man was calm when you showed him it was okay to be calm and right to be composed without imposing it as standard he had to follow.
 “Okay, listen!”, Virgil started, his naked feet jumping into motion and leading them on to their destination just a few houses down, “so, my sib came out, right? And..”
 She made a wet sound, a squelching could be heard as she pulled the lollipop out for a moment. Remy was so close, he swore he could hear the tiny gremlin swallow. He chuckled and leaned his head against hers for a bit.
It was more symbolic than practical and he immediately retreated after Virgil pressed her head’s side against his.
 “And they were looking for a name. Just a few minutes before I got my ass over to yours, they came up to me and said they wanted to use “Logan” as preferred name, so I was like “huh? But that is your name, sibby” and they groaned but took it as acceptance.”
 The taller one smiled weakly.
Their destination came into view.
 “You are a good sibling, you know? Logan can be happy to have you throughout all of this.”
 Virgil shrugged as she dropped the shrinking lollipop into her mouth once more. He pointed at the moderately-sized house. It looked sort of regular, one big VR still parked in the front.
 “This one?”
 Remy’s eyebrows narrowed, huddling together. They were slightly plucked but still looked natural. Somehow, Virgil felt proud of this.
A nod indicated yes at last. It felt annoying - how could a nod even express annoyance?
The unicorn snuggled closer.
 “Enjoy your coke, bastard.”
 The younger one groaned, rolling his eyes as he - once more - used the stairs.
Virgil scowled at them while the male glared.
 “Literally, stairs are a pain and we should fucking bomb them away, honey.”
 Remy squeezed his hand.
 “Uh.. I mean,,.. fuck stairs but.. um”, he looked down, his eyes showing him just how much he was standing on a stranger’s doorstep, “fuck.”
 Discomfort pooled in his hear, making him feel cold all of a sudden. It tickled in him but in a way that made him feel like he was going numb.. maybe he would just faint.
Instead, he kept stuttering about the door, just repeating the nonsense echoing through his burning mind
 “It is okay, Remy. I can kiss it away!”
 She grinned at him and leaned in. The stuttering stopped at once.
Wide eyes stared into the curiously baby blue orbs Virgil’s face held.
Coming closer and closer and-
 “Yo, I really appreciate the company, but I really just wanted to go back inside.”
 A voice like dark sandpaper rubbed between them, sawing their intimacy away and making Remy jolt in surprise. Hot, bloody anxiety flooded back into his consciousness whilst Virgil closed the distance between them as the unicorn/bunny stepped back before her tall baby.
 “Okay, bitch, that is it, I will fucking FIgthT yOU!”, he screeched, bouncing up.
 Remy acted fast to pull the furious ball of rage back into place. At least the unicorn was so small, he could easily contain the raging bean.
 The new voice was more than voice, it was a person. Evidently, they already looked like friends, despite Virgil’s sudden threats and Remy’s gut-freezing anxiety. The styles seemed to unify them. They all looked like a bunch of social rejects old people would frown upon and little kids would point at. Brave teenagers would be scared and young adults would try to dominate then.
 A person with an actual body stood there, dismissively leaning against the nearby wall of the house. A beanie adorned their head much like Remy’s and in contrast to Virgil’s messy ginger head.
Skin darker than a slight tan, eyes green like a miracle and so deep, deeper than the forest and every treasure.
A few strands of different colours could be seen to defy the beanie, They proudly stood out in the sunny light of a comfortable Sunday afternoon. Remy could identify a colour akin to pumpkins and different shades of green as if sculptured by nature personally.
 Unnatural colours for hair but still, the stranger wore them as if this was the most natural of all occurrences.
Was this a bit of light blue? It contrasted with the row of shiny piercings in the stranger’s ears -- they all looked like little cartoon items of food? And that nose ring was to die for...
 “And you wanna fight me, why?”
 Virgil hissed, his jaw snapping together but only biting air before the newcomer.
 “Ff-f-ucking ffforg-get it”, Remy jumped in, still mesmerised by how ripped someone’s jeans could really get. They were not revealing but fitting with a bit of space while being scratches and patched at any place he could identify.
 Virgil came back to life at this comment, vocalisations of all the threatening kinds were thrown like from a feral animal.
The “suck the right butts” shirt with a human cartoon butt next to a burning cigarette seemed to tickle Virgil a bit into a level of slightly less intense readiness to throw hands. At least the weirdo had some style.
 “Alright. Would you step away, then? I want to go back inside and eat my pancakes.”
 Something within Remy died as the person said that.
Oh fuck.
Everything that did not matter seemed to matter an this point.
 “You are the new neighbour?”, Virgil blinked dismissively and waved, “overrated.”
 The stranger clicked a tongue impatiently, one blonde brow quirking up in question without him repeating his words.
 “That b-bitch is on fucking coke o-or some ssshit! Don’t mind him!”
 Remy pushed Virgil to the side, his arms still wrapped around him as to not let her fall down these miserably sad stairs.
 Virgil huffed.
 “Coke? You fucking picky shit, You can have cherry if you want it! I took it only because I love you more than I like coke flavour and you fucking thank me like this? I wanted to be nice and you are being a dumb butt again!”
 He pouted.
 Emile looked as uninterested as ever. If there was a sleeping stone on the porch, maybe there would be a chance this person would be more interested but right now? Not so much. The person was unimpressed, forest eyes blank in apathy.
 “Listen, you two are very entertaining but -”
 Remy cut this speech off in a.... honestly, there was no words for what exactly this special piece of human did at this point.
For some anxiety-logic reason (and for this “reason” only), he smacked Virgil’s furry thigh and let out an inhumane screen before pushing himself in front of the door and pushing his hand between him and the new neighbour. Or whom he deemed to be that person.
 Virgil was next to him instead of before him and looking less smug or feral, just a tad confused at best. A reaction like this had her blink and swallow the cherry flavour of her saliva that came from the generous lollipop in her mouth.
He could not complain about that.
 Well, maybe Emile would complain.
 “Excuse you?”
 A blonde eyebrow rose up. The stranger looked at Remy as if he was nothing but a mortal insect to the mighty deity this person was.
 Remy was not shaking but his heart was uncontrollably sweating, swirling around his chest cavity and basically running in circles at an immense speed. Great panic ruled his existence and left him gasping and shaking his head for a moment.
 “I- I am bit- REMY!”, he started, “I AM REMY”
 He basically screamed his personal introduction at Emile. Panic regulated the tone of his voice and make his further screeches even more incoherent as Virgil just stood by, awestruck and frozen at this... this event of uncommon occurrence.
 Honestly, she would lie if she claimed to have ever seen this sort of behaviour before. This was pretty much a first after considering just how anxious Remy was around strangers. Maybe the gayness in the air was just overriding the last bit of influence his braincell had?
Virgil appreciated the feeling but did not share the sentiment (which is a lie). He really did not (LIE). He REALLY did NOT!! (cheap lie. Read: he very much did but pretended not to care as much while his eyes tried not to shape into tiny hearts for how attracted she was to this new person).
 Holy shit those two needed some more social contact other than each other.
 “I am Emile. Fae/faer and They/them. I am not not really-”
 Fae sighed, interrupting faer own sentence.
 “My grandparents lived here for longer. I am the only new one here. I came here for a summer job only, so you don’t have to deal with me for long. You can just go back and make out in front of your own house now.”
 Virgil blinked, underwhelmed.
 “Shut up.”
 Remy immediately drew in a gasp of air. It was loud, audible and more than just intrusive to anyone on the street. This sound could have been heard by everyone in the entire neighbourhood.
 “Virgil, you insolent prick, shut up yourself, you wanted to be nice and help! You are not getting knife privileges, you .. you.. sucky.. fucky.. me-mean...”
 He stumbled over his own words, suddenly finding himself at a loss of words as he was faced with the situation he was in.
This was too much. What was this even?
This was absurd, this is what it was. It was absolutely confusing and weird and not as it should have been. He should have given some stupid biscuits to some stupid neighbours and just bad-mouthed his mom for a bit longer because of how salty he got at the forced social interaction. Instead, he was caught in the gay panic that was this.. this fucking mess!
 “If you don’t say “yes”, tell us to leave”, Virgil growled as he leaned in.
Emile did not back away even by an inch.
 Actually, fae even leaned in, fae leaned in so much, fae could whisper right against Virgil’s lips. The thought of a word was lost on their lips as they moved and pronounced just enough of a “yes” for her to shoot forward and press their lips together.
 Within seconds, hands got caught up in fingers, in strands of hair and articles of clothing.
Virgil brushed over the beanie, trying to find something to hold onto as he pulled down the giant of a faeling for a good session. There was no real grip there. Instead, she opted to do the one good thing she could be doing instead.
 The unicorn tugged Emile down, pushing them against the door - right next to Remy who squealed in reply at the sudden crash.
They groaned into the kiss, hands looking for more roughness in the endlessly silkiness of a onesie. The push against the door was not even minded with as much as a mental note or even ...anything, really. The groan might have been nothing but pleasure.
 But as soon as Virgil, The Storm (TM), has come, as soon he left again. She pulled away, clicking her tongue.
Somehow, she must have lots her lollipop.
If he had even half a mind for anything but getting more of Emile, she might have realised how she had dropped it in the moment their lips had crashed. How else would lips get that close in the first place? Lollipops were a good way of policing closeness - too good. They prevented kisses too much.
 Virgil stepped back a bit, looking at Emile and Remy in satisfaction. Her curious eyes switched between one tall to the other tall pal.
 “So... you two gonna shake hands now and say the whole neighbourhood shit? I did not come here for nothing.”
 She shrugged, looking away as if to look for something. Sure, she found it on the ground. The pink ball of lollipop she had dropped in the excitement of sweeping in idiot up in a storm of a sudden kiss, the winds of passion and electricity of pleasure and excitement meeting.
 Nonchalantly, the unicorn picked up the piece of trash and threw it into the trash in front of the house.
All the while, Emile and Remy watched her quietly.
 “I told you to do the societal bullshit thing, so we can be nice and steal your biscuits Remy’s mom made.”
 She rolled her eyes.
 “I am Virgil, by the way. I am a unicorn and you would not dream to dream of me even in your wildest dreams.”
 Fae nodded.
A new sense of knowledge - respect - was in their violently green eyes.
Remy simply shook his own head into waking his brain up.
 “Remy, he/him. Virgil uses she/her and he/him.”
 He cleared his throat, voice weak but not exactly recovering even after his little treat to his throat. He swallowed his coke-flavoured lollipop liquids.
 “Sorry about ..”, he gestured towards his friend who cuddled up next to him as if he had done nothing more but given her mom a hug or whatever trivial thing like texting a bro, “that.”
 Virgil huffed but said no more, only leaned into his side and sighed, sounding surprisingly void of energy.
 “Do you want to come inside?”
 Remy flinched at the question. The hot neighbour was pulling this fucking beanie off their head, revealing their colourful hair. Green and blue, orange-ish and purple were easily spotted in the mess of a dyed paradise. Faer hair were curled like clouds. Exactly like clouds. It was probably the most balanced state between curled up and simply wavy hair.
 Virgil shrugged.
 “Nah, did you not hear us? We came here by force because we hate life but adults think you gotta be nice to new neighbours. So imma go to Remy’s and eat these fucking biscuits his mom made for you because they will be great and you cannot have them. You can dream of them.”
 She hugged him as if to prove a point.
 The neighbour shrugged.
 “Just wait a minute. I want to give you something. You guys.. you guys need it - you deserve it, you know?”
 They pulled the beanie back over their head.
 “Re- Remy? Can you move, I gotta get inside for a moment.”
 Fae gestured towards the door and Remy quickly pushed against Virgil enough to straighten up his slouching friend a bit and give way to Emile.
The feral idiot seemed.. pretty much asleep at this point. Was there any point in even trying to wake her up? Probably not.
 Anyway, the deity of a neighbour disappeared inside for a few moments and quickly came back with a little box.
 “Biscuits”, fae stated rather bluntly. So much about them was just so blunt and straightforward without being straight in the slightest.
“I don’t think mine are better. I know it.”
 They winked before disappearing into the house again, the door clicking shut with a loud and definite sound. For now, this was the last bit of interaction they would be able to squeeze out of faem.
But..
 Virgil shook awake at the sudden impact of the door slamming back into its frame and pushing the lock until it clicked and closed as it was supposed to act. Instead of staying awake, his eyes switched from shot-open to rolling up to reveal white only until his lids had the mercy of blanketing these pools of eyes.
Her head travelled upright against the door with a dull “donk” and immediately lost all support from her neck, therefore rolled back against Remy’s shoulder.
 “Virgil! Virgil, hey! Food!”
 The bunny mumbled and turned closer to hugged Remy from the side. His arms reached around the entirety of the barely dressed man, a few curious fingers started tugging at his short skirt.
 “Virgil!!”
 The naughty friend groaned at the loud noise as if she had room to complain with even a bit of ground to stand on.
 “Nooooo”, he whined. His body pulled back, forced by the magic of friendship to respect the boundaries of Remy’s super important message or whatever the shit,
He just wanted a nap and biscuits, man.
“Fuck..fuck you..mm”
 Virgil was still busy rubbing her eyes when the taller man pointed at the box.
 “We got more biscuits for you”, he informed the feral cryptid, “and it is in a box - Emile’s box. You know what that means.”
 The onesie-clot bitch shrugged, shaking his head. A moment passed while Remy hugged the box, a dirty grin appearing on his lips.
 “Wait~”
 He lifted the lid just enough to reach into the box and get the first biscuit. Instead, there was a little.. piece of paper?
Remy pulled at it until it was in proper vision to see. He skipped down the stairs while Virgil sluggishly stumbled down the miserable excuse of stupid stone stairs. Literally those shits should be forbidden and aborted. Everyone would just trip over stairs but not on ramps.
Ramps were cool. Get ramps, kids.
 “Vi, you h-”, Remy held his breath, stopping himself from saying anymore. Instead, he passed a note to a rather tired and moody baby of a bunny.
 >>Get high with me tomorrow? xx xxx xxxx xxxx - HMU, you two are cute. BTW, love the shirt.<<
 The awakening pal patted his own thigh suddenly, then the box and eventually reached up to Remy and pulled him into a kiss as if his lips depended on it.
It was much shorter than the wild session of kisses he had shared with Emile.
 Again, as soon as Virgil came, as soon she was gone again.
With that, she grabbed the box and ran off.
 “You bitch won’ be gettin’ any coke nor any COCK without me!”
 He jumped around the corner, back to where the two had come from.
 “You owe me a few cherry kisses yourself, Virgil!”
 Remy promptly ran after her, cheeks ablaze, baked from the sun of a thousand kisses, heart flying on the wings of compliments and mind thriving on the warming and tickling light of hope.
 Inside, Emile peeked out of the windows enough to see the two chasing down the block. Littering was bullshit but these two surely were some good.
 The new neighbours were not so bad after all.
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