H a p p y B i r t h d a y S a b b i e <3
W i s h e s <3
You don’t belong here,
It is not very becoming is it,
God did not choose you,
What happened to God’s unconditional love,
God does not frolic in between the bed sheets,
If God can love gossips,
But you’re not a gossip,
And the Bible dictates,
I
Why should I?
Because you have made the choice to sin,
You assume that your normality,
It is not love.
And the way a man and a woman love each other?
I dare not.
Not even for me?
What happened to your rainbow flags,
You still remind me of the wintertime,
I may remind me of the wintertime,
You’ll be the one holding my hand,
Do I still remind you of the wintertime?
No.
On my steps,
In front of my church,
Or anywhere at all.
I am not the cold and frigid one,
I bask in the warmth of God’s light,
Unlike you who shall burn,
In the fires of Satan’s Hell.
You stain my church,
And poison God’s will,
With your unholy presence.
What makes you think that your signs,
Your protests and your cries,
Have any affect on me?
I do not know why you try,
To accomplish an impossible task,
Wanting to be loved, accepted, or even tolerated,
Or wanting to get married.
Impossible dreams for someone like you,
The world is not going to grant you anything,
Because the world thinks nothing more than less of you.
Sticking your lips out in childlike petulance,
Denying people of their rights,
With your horrid and hateful signs,
Protesting just my very will to live,
As if you were something royal,
As if you were God’s chosen,
But I’ll have you know,
That God chose me too.
If anything, you are here,
To show the rest of us,
What may happen if we convert,
To your sick lifestyle,
I am God’s chosen,
For I am not like you,
And you can tell me that we look the same,
Inside and outside,
But the difference between us,
Is that God loves me and has saved me,
But hates and condemns you.
And the image he made of himself,
In each and every one of us?
He does not infect himself with AIDS,
Nor is he filthy like you.
Love is only unconditional for someone normal like me.
If God can love the divorced,
If God can love the remarried,
If God can—
You are not the divorced,
And you are not the remarried.
You are a homosexual,
A liar, a thief, an adulteress,
An absolutely disgusting creature that has no place,
In any heart.
You have no place in society see?
God has dictated so in His Book,
In Leviticus, Corithians, Romans—
That there shall be no eating of crustaceans,
And no wearing of two different fabrics.
The gospel is not stagnant,
It reveals itself,
The way you have revealed yourself,
As a cold and treacherous snake,
Unfit to love.
How dare you use the words of your Heavenly Father,
To try and condemn me,
And to justify your own prejudices.
…Mother,
Why can’t you just love me as I am?
(beat)
I…why can’t you just change?
You used to say that you loved me,
No matter what,
Unconditionally you said,
And why is this so different?
To be this homosexual,
A child I can no longer accept because of it.
There are therapies,
They can teach you how to be normal again,
Normal so God can love you,
And normal so you can be happy once more.
How can anyone be happy knowing that they are so sick?
Is so superior,
Yet you make the choices to sin everyday,
When you peek over the neighbor’s fence,
And whisper of unspeakable things.
I am normal,
I am happy,
Because I believe in love.
Love is the way I love your father,
The way a man and a woman love each other.
Drunken marriages in Vegas,
Teenage pregnancies that bring people together,
Loveless couples forced together?
And then maybe just once,
Two people who love each other regardless,
Of who they are.
Recognize humanity and open your heart,
Erase the blackness that surrounds you.
For your own child that has suffered,
With bricks through my window,
Spray paint on my locker,
And harassments in the locker room.
…I don’t know how much more I can take.
Your protests on the street,
Your marches and your cries for equality?
I looked out the window today and heard silence,
I stepped out of the church today,
And you were not waiting for me.
With your chilling glares,
A look of ice that freezes my heart,
The frostiness that exudes from the depth of your eyes,
The atmosphere that surrounds you,
Has always been barren and cold.
There is an artificial air about you,
Like two snowflakes that look the same,
You are stiff and frigid as you praise the Heavenly Father,
Right after you have grudgingly invited me inside your church,
So I can pray alongside you.
Frigid is what you are,
Distant is what you try not o be,
Warm is what you are not.
I still expect that hated stare,
The frosty hisses telling me to go away,
That there is no love or acceptance,
For someone like me.
Yet, you stay here,
Letting me warm you,
To melt you into spring,
And your heart has once again started to beat,
And your soul has started to feel.
But you remind me of God’s initial message of love and caring,
I’ve set aside those prejudices,
And I intend to show you,
Just how much I can love and accept you,
Just as you are.
Just tell me one thing,
You will tell me won’t you?
When you finally meet that one and only,
Regardless of who they may be?
As I walk down the aisle at my marriage,
There’s always hope for the future,
For hearts to be melted into spring.
(beat)
You remind me of the springtime.
VeeTee//Mommy
Picture For Sabbie
I hope you have an amazing birthday Sabbie, and I hope this shows you just a little bit of how much people really care for you.
I wrote you a strange songficish/poemish thing. And it's weird, so yeah. But it does have sorta implied Remus/Harry in it. I hope you like it.
The song belongs to Jimmy Eat World, Hear You Me. <3
He could remember the first time he had seen Harry
When he had been tiny and helpless
So small, that his smile filled up all the room he occupied
He remembered the soft baby black hair
That James and Sirius had argued over
Saying that it was more like one then the other
He remembered the shining emerald eyes
That told their own story
There’s no one in town I know
You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance.
But then, he remembered when he had seen Harry
When he was old enough to tell his own stories
And the debate had been decided:
He had James’s hair
And walked with Sirius’s challenging swagger
His eyes were now a myschevious green
That reminded Remus of the perfume that Lily had worn,
Strawberry-scented, to match her firey red hair
What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I’ll never have a chance.
And it was all so strange to Remus.
Watching this boy, who had his own life now.
A life that no longer included his origins.
But yet, had subtely molded into them.
He had Lily’s shy smile, and Jame’s determination.
Sirius’s loyalty and Remus’s awkward brilliance.
Harry had left a mark, all so different from the four of them.
And been marked by the world differently because of it.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
Remus had been awake all that next night.
Pacing, and thinking, half murmuring to himself as though he were going mad.
The comfort of sleep wouldn’t embrace him.
As he felt ashamed for running away after tragedy claimed them all.
He wanted to walk down the hall,
The one his feet had memorized all those years ago,
And tell the boy his story.
Their story.
So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I’ll never have a chance.
But he couldn’t speak whenever he was around.
He was lost in the presence of Harry.
Like a brilliant light emitting from his body,
One that he might have not even known was there,
But refused to let go out.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
It was only years later that were dragged
Through death and misery
Did he find the proper words that made the story fit together,
Like some elaborate puzzles.
And he though he wanted to run away again, not able to
Bear the glances he received.
Wary and scared, as though Remus himself was already a ghost.
And was lingering for some reason no one could understand.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
And if you were with me tonight,
I’d sing to you just one more time.
In the flickering darkness they would lay,
Remus tracing tender fingers over the slash of red
And pain, begging eternally for forgiveness
As he whispered gentle stories
Of memories long since buried, by choice and by not.
Treasured by both, even as their heart throbbed in
A stabbing motion,
But in unison this time.
A song for a heart so big,
God wouldn’t let it live.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
Fluffy Llama
Happy birthday, Sabbie! I have two related drabbles
for you. The first is your postcard drabble, which you
have hopefully received by now, and the second is a
follow-up to it. I hope you have a lovely birthday!
------------
Challenge: Harry/Ron - Ron dreams of dancing pink
dildos
“No! Not the big pink one!”
Harry looked up from his book as Ron awoke with a
start.
“Bloody hell. Great big long things—“ Ron stared into
the gloom outside Harry’s wand light, and stopped, his
mouth moving soundlessly. “All… vibrating.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a fun dream.”
“Oh no.” Ron stifled a yawn, burrowing closer into
Harry’s neck. “They were… making me dance with them.”
As Ron settled back down to sleep, Harry hoped it
wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
Otherwise, there was a good chance Ron was going to
really hate his birthday present.
------------
Ron had a different nightmare every night for three
weeks in a row.
He was chased across the Quidditch pitch by evil
broomsticks.
He woke screaming at mutant owls swooping down from
the treetops in the Forbidden Forest.
He swore off aftershave when he dreamed Snape replaced
his 'Well-dressed Wizard' special offer cologne
(stolen from Percy) with weedkiller potion.
Harry and Hedwig were both exhausted by the time Ron's
birthday dawned.
"Not that it isn't nice, and all that…" Ron looked
around in awe at the mountain of brightly wrapped
presents. "But what did I do to deserve all these?"
Nichol//alcholicberry
Misfits
For Sabbie
Huggles from Nichol.
-----
Sirius had been sitting that same way for nearly three hours. The way that he only sits when he is thinking of something really important. He use to sit in his desk after an exam, this very same way, shaping and forming out plans for what James and them would achieve.
But that was when James had been alive. Laughing at the silly plans and tricks they would play, chasing Lily around like she was some goddess he would never be able to live up too but would still attempt to love. That was when Peter was still tagging along after James and Sirius in a way that caused everyone to avoid him, knowing that if they lay a hand on the smaller boy, they would have to deal with James and Sirius. That was when Remus was practically carefree; no marks to show the years of disappointment had finally caught up with him.
This was now, and not then. James’ laughter couldn’t be heard, Peter’s trails had changed, and Remus had aged before his time.
And Sirius. All he had to show for it was a twelve-year prison sentence.
Where had all the laughter disappeared?
She had been right. For once the Divinations teacher had been right. Sirius would suffer alone. More so now then just when James and Lily had been murdered for he had time to let the realization sink in.
Twelve years of feeling alone with nothing but his mind to be-friend him. Oh, he had had the time to think things over, too much time. He had been forced to remember what had happened to both Lily and James. His best friend killed by his own foolish decision.
No, now all he could think about were the people he had hurt that had to remain alive with the anger.
All he could think about was Remus’ once smiling face.v
Remus had once told him, that if he believed, life would work out for the better.
This had been a thought, a thought just before his trial, when Remus stood outside the court door, whispering as he walked past. And they stayed with him. For twelve years those thoughts were the only thing that kept him from insanity, even with the dementors there, stealing all his happiness away from him, he kept that thought souly in the back of his mind.
It wasn’t really a happy thought, more of a determination to live up to what Remus had told him. The last thing he had been told by his remaining friend. A thought surrounded by others of revenge for James and Lily’s murder, for his set up.
And he got out. Eventually everything did work out for the better.
When he saw Remus for the first time in twelve years, he remembered everything that this tired man had once told him. Everything that Remus had done to help him, protect him, and show him how much he was really worth.
Then he knew, right then and there he would spend the rest of his life making it up to Remus. Attempting his best to protect what had been so far from him, the only man that had ever cared for him.
So as he sat pondering the many decisions over, he figured that the only way was to attempt to care secretly. Remus shouldn’t have to know how much he really meant to Sirius. No, not yet.
-----
Sirius was shaken from his thoughts when a hand touched his shoulder lightly. He looked to just beside him and saw Remus standing there, with a frown.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Sirius said truthfully.
Nodding, Remus let go of his shoulder, trailing his hand away till the touch was merely a memory on Sirius’ skin.
And Sirius felt alone once again, abandoned by all as he watched Remus’ tired figure walk back towards the sink to look out the small window. Standing in the dull light of the now fading moon.
No, not tonight. But nearly two days earlier, the reverse of what any man should feel.
Sirius’ eyes traced over Remus’ fragile features, someone so frail able to show the world that he too was able to do what they wanted, a sort of silent demand for another life that wouldn’t hurt him.
“Do you ever wish things might have been different?” Sirius questioned, finally deciding he didn’t like the silence anymore.
Remus looked at him for a moment, then his lip curled slowly into the tiniest of smiles.
“Different would be to much of a change wouldn’t you say?”v
Sirius shook his head, “You don’t deserve this life Remus. You deserve something more.”
Remus’ smile disappeared as he walked towards the other side of the counter and pulled out two mugs.
“To loose all these memories? To never have met you or James?” Remus’ hands shook as he spoke the words. “To have never gotten this disease?” He paused to compose himself. “There are few times when that might seem better.”
Sirius couldn’t understand why Remus had wished this on himself. Why he would wish to be a werewolf instead of just a normal wizard, growing up with the knowledge to get him into any job that might have been of some interest.
“It’s not fair, Remus.”
“Perhaps not.” Remus replied, putting on a pot of hot water. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Shaking his head, Sirius grinned. “We would have still met Remus. I was your friend before we even knew you were a werewolf.”
Remus leaned against the counter, holding himself as if he might collapse at any moment. “I would have still missed it.”
“Missed what?” Sirius questioned.
“You coming with me. Working so hard to show me tat you all cared enough. That it didn’t matter what I was as long as we were friends.”
“We still would have been friends Remus.” Sirius repeated, running a hand through his long black hair.
“But not as close. I think the relationship we have now is just perfect. If things had been different…I don’t even want to think of the consequences.”
Sirius chuckled at Remus’ logic. He still didn’t think Remus deserved to be a werewolf but he let it pass.
“Do you think I would want to be proper? Trim? A working man with a family?”
The questions startled Sirius. “No. Just someone that fit in is all. Having a stable job.”
“Not like the other Werewolves and Vampires that have no choice but to accept what they are?”
“Exactly.”
By this time the pot of water had boiled, letting off steam to warn them. Remus turned towards the pot and poured them each a cup of hot water before putting the tea bags in, oh so carefully.
There was silence again and Sirius watched as his Remus stirred the small amount of leaved into the water. He smiled, realizing how many nights they had done this. How many times they had stayed up in each other’s company, talking.
“Here.”
Sirius blinked as a cup of tea was handed to him. Taking it, he watched as Remus sat down beside him and looked at the wall.
“No. They are exactly what I want to be. A misfit, a freak, the enemy, just like you and me.” Remus said, placing his hands on the table. A faint smile returned to his lips.
“Misfits from the beginning till the end.”
And all Sirius could do was lay his hand on top of Remus’ and smile with a new understanding.
Mari//Daddy
Note to Sabbie: My writing and I wrestled for the better part of a few days, and this came out, though I’ve this sinking suspicion the writing won the battle. I’m not very proud of this, despite the effort, and I don’t want to give it to you because I think you deserve something much, much better; unfortunately, I’d feel even worse if I didn’t give you anything at all. So here it is, and expect something hopefully better quite soon, and finally, Happy Birthday, babe :)
BLIND
It had been years and years since Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort, and he still couldn’t see. The healers had, five years ago when he had come for their care, hoped his eyesight may have returned by now; they were not surprised when it did not.
Harry didn’t mind. He figured that he had to pay the price, and any price was never too high for the end. Even loneliness.
Sirius and Remus and countless others had opened their doors to him, but he declined because they didn‘t understand. He preferred knowledge to ignorance. “No, no… I’ll stay at the clinic. They’ll keep me.”
And they did, and the requests came fewer. Only Sirius remained stubborn.
“No, Sirius,” Harry murmured, “I’m fine here.”
But the truth was, Harry knew he’d never be fine anywhere.
He had lots of visitors, but those soon lessened, until the grateful had trickled away and only the living remained. And even then the visits were mostly stagnant, and ordered; and Harry hated it, hated his visitors, and longed for the past where people he had not known very well had come into his room and thanked him for his deed.
Among his early stream of well wishers, one stuck out sharply in his mind, and sometimes all he wanted was to experience it again; his last confrontation with his father-in-law.
Harry would have known Lucius merely by his presence even without his scent, which was a mixture of spices, and honeyed milk and autumn breezes and sunlight and dry, warm grass; without the soft, purring, quiet voice that could be both comforting and chilling. For when Lucius was in a room everyone knew it - unless he didn’t want anyone to, unless he was creeping up behind them, his hands itching to strangle…
“I’m sorry,” Harry had blurted out, without thinking.
But Lucius had kissed him on the top of his head and said, “It’s going to be alright,” even though it wasn’t, because there were aurors waiting nervously outside the door to Harry’s room hoping Lucius wasn’t going to explode into some homicidal fury, and there were Dementors eager for something powerful to feast on.
No one talked about the results of Lucius’ trial and sentence in front of Harry, no matter how much he questioned; eventually he just stopped asking, and hoped in his heart that maybe, just maybe, Lucius had gotten away.
His mind told him to stop living a fantasy.
But sometimes Harry felt that that was all he had left, really; what was in his head. He lived on his memories, feasted on them, and while his companions seemed to be living in the here and now, he simply wasn’t able to join them.
Harry confided this to Draco, and Draco said, “How do you remember me, Harry?”
And Harry told him that Draco was sweet-faced and slender and graceful, and his eyes were misty and his hair was silvery, and the only thing he wanted in the world was to see it all again for one last time.
When Draco left to go home that day, Harry felt like crying.
Oddly enough, he had a better, more joyous time with some of his more unexpected visitors. Tonks dropped by once, dragging Snape along by the arm; her banter had made an incredible increase in Harry’s bad mood, and the fact Snape was rather irritated and couldn’t attack house points anymore was a bonus. Apparently, Snape and Tonks worked together and as a result lived together, and what the job was Harry wasn’t certain, but it sounded rather shady, especially the part about the dead bodies.
When they had to leave, Tonks had stood up and said, “If you ever need to be rescued in the near future, give us a call. Our door’s always open.”
And Harry knew they understood.
