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jessilyria · 4 years ago

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ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING WE KNOW ABOUT THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY SEASON 2

Hello! This covers everything from trailers, promo pics, interviews, and articles. Pics and links will be included. The info is in vague chronological order (as much as it can be.)

Needless to say, this post contains SPOILERS and is LONG ^‿^

If you’d like a non-spoilery version with just the basic facts please check out my Umbrella Academy Timeline.

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According to Steve Blackman, season 2 is about second chances and the endgame is still to stop the 2019 apocalypse (X).

The opening scene of season 2:

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The siblings arrive in the past at different times, but all in the same spot - an alleyway with some dumpsters which leads out onto a high-street.

Noticeable locations on the high-street include a beauty salon for black people, and an electronics shop which later on closes down and becomes a base for the group.

The order they arrive in is the order the promo pictures were released: Ben & Klaus, Allison, Luther, Diego, Vanya, Five.

It will likely take a while before the whole team is reunited, and possibly longer before the siblings begin to meet the new characters: “It was several episodes before we all started to interact with each other” (X).

Ben & Klaus land in February 1960 (X). As Klaus is sober, his powers continue to develop and he uses them to impresses some people. (X)

"Klaus effectively starts the hippie movement off early by founding a cult whose philosophy is based on the lyrics of pop songs that have yet to be written. “Don’t go chasing waterfalls. Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to,” he tells one awed follower." (X)

"Destiny's Children! Let us commune with music." *starts whistling*

But Klaus isn’t as happy as he seems in this new life of cult stardom. “He can’t deal with the praise; it’s just become strangulating.” (X)

There’s also tension between Klaus and Ben, but its unknown whether this is because of the cult, because Klaus is "trying to rekindle his relationship with Dave" (X), or because Klaus’ evolved powers mean Ben can now possess him (X). Either way, Ben’s “determined not to be invisible to the ones he loves, willing to go further than ever before to make his presence known.” (X)

As Klaus is wearing the same outfit as the promo pics (and has a long beard which he later loses), its likely the following scene takes place early on.

Klaus: Now what? Ben: Remember when I told you the engine was overheating? Klaus: Yeah, well, being smart doesn't make you interesting. Ben: Neither does your beard.

Ben: You think I’m just going to keep following you everywhere for another three years? Klaus: Yeah, you are my ghost-bitch, remember?

*************************

Klaus: My skin was on fire! Ben: Good! I’ve got to get to San Francisco, I have unfinished business.

Allison is second to appear in 1961 (X). "Confused and looking for help, Allison walks into a diner and is greeted by a “Whites Only” sign, then chased across town by a group of white men until she finds sanctuary in a beauty parlour for Black women that doubles as a meeting place for civil-rights activists." (X)

Its been confirmed that the below image is from ep 1. (X)

Have you experienced discrimination by your employer?

She meets a man named Raymond Chestnut who is a “born leader with the smarts, gravitas, and confidence to never have to prove it to anyone. He has the innate ability to disarm you with a look, and is a devoted husband.” (X)

Luther appears on April 10th 1962 and lands on a dumpster.

He ends up working for Jack Ruby (X), a mysterious man who owns a nightclub (and who fatally shot Lee Harvey Oswald after Oswald was in custody for JFK's assassination). Luther’s job involves being a driver, bouncer, and underground fighter.

Its been confirmed that the following scene is from ep 1. (X)

Diego appears on Sep 17th 1963. One of the first things he sees is a televised address from President JFK.

He ends up in an insane asylum for stalking Lee Harvey Oswald and spouting “delusional claims” about JFK’s assassination (X). Its here he meets Lila Pitts, “a chameleon who can be as brilliant or as clinically insane as the situation requires”. She’s also "unpredictable, mischievous" and "sarcastic" with a "twisted sense of humour." (X)

Vanya appears on Oct 12th 1963 (X). “She arrives and gets hit by a car, driven by a woman (Sissy). She smashes her head on the cement... She remembers her name, but nothing else.” (X)

She gets a job on a ranch as a live-in-nanny for Sissy, a "fearless, no nonsense Texas Mom" who "married young for all the wrong reasons" and is "eager to rediscover what love has to offer." (X)

Because she has forgotten her past traumas, Vanya is “much more confident and more in touch with her emotional self” (X). She forms a unique bond with Sissy’s son, Harlan, who is non-verbal (X). Its been confirmed that the following photos are from ep 1. (X)

Vanya: I wish I remembered something.  Sissy: The doctor said it would take time. Don’t push yourself.

Vanya is also slowly discovering her powers on her own.

Five appears with Hazel on Nov 15th after witnessing the world going down in nuclear explosions.

Five: What was that? Hazel: The end of the world, November 25th 1963. Five: And where am I now? Hazel: Dallas, ten days earlier. Five: ...I need to find my family.

But of course its not going to be that easy, the Commission is still out there and “will hunt us down wherever and whenever we go.”

In the trailer we are introduced to the head of The Commission, a fish named Carmichael. He sends three Swedish assassins, Oscar, Axel, and Otto, to hunt down Five and the others.

At some point they acquire a milk-truck and one of them dresses as a milkman. On a location shoot, the Swedes were seen in their truck outside a house in an urban area. They check a map and one of them pumps a shotgun (X).

Whilst searching for his siblings Five encounters a man named Elliot, an "alien obsessive (who) witnesses The Umbrella Academy's separate arrivals." He agrees to help Five find the others. (X)

“3rd EVENT, April 10th 1962″ is above photos of Luther arriving, “September 17th 1963″ is above photos of Diego arriving, and the right column are photos of Vanya arriving still in her White Violin outfit.

Five manages to find Diego in the asylum and they have a conversation.

Five: Listen to me very closely, you gibbering moron. You are not going to do a goddamned thing. Diego: Why not? Five: Because we have to stop the apocalypse. Diego: But that doesn't happen for another 60 years. Five: Not that apocalypse, this is a... new one. It followed us.  Diego: *begins laughing*

At some point after this the Swedes storm the asylum.

“Who are those guys?!”

Diego and Lila seem to make their escape from the Swedes and the asylum pretty quickly however. Its been confirmed that the below pic is from ep 2. (X)

Based on Diego’s outfit and length of beard, the following two scenes take place around the same time. First, a heated car conversation which Five crashes.

Diego: You don’t know anything about me! Lila: I know everything. You are an open book written for very dumb children. Diego: I am n-not trying to b-be a hero, okay? Lila: Then why are you doing this?  Five: *appears in the backseat* Because he is an idiot. Lila: Who the hell are you? Five: Hi, I’m his loving brother. Diego: Who left me to rot in the nut-house. Five: To protect you from yourself.  Lila: Thats quite sweet. Diego: Okay. Both of you. Out.

And second, a dark encounter with a familiar figure...

Reginald Hargreeves & Pogo

The summary for episode 2 also mentions that “an incident at the bar leads Luther to Vanya,” and “Five finds an unsettling surprise in the film Hazel left behind,” which likely links to this image:

Its been confirmed that the following scene is from ep3 (X). Klaus is seen emerging from a river - now confirmed to be the River Ganges in India/Bangladesh which is considered sacred and purifying (X). Considering the series spans 10 days and is set in Dallas, this scene is very likely a flashback.

Note Ben in the background.

Klaus is also seen in similar attire in a wealthy looking house, which is potentially part of the commune where the cult operates.

Note Klaus no longer has his long beard.

And here’s Ben in what looks like a room in the same house. It's interesting to note that Ben (or the actor) is looking straight into the camera, implying its a first person point-of-view.

Apparently also in ep3 we have this delightful gem of Klaus being Klaus. (presumably theres a pool at the commune?).

Episode 3 also sees the Swedes chasing Vanya in a cornfield until she uses her powers to defend herself.

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Thanks to this, Five is able to track Vanya down (X). It's been confirmed that the following pic is from episode 3. (X)

And based on Vanya's clothes, Five then takes her to a cafe to explain a few things.

Vanya: Are you gonna tell me what the hell's going on? Five: When you were a baby you were bought by an eccentric billionaire. He raised you in an elite academy with six other siblings with extrodinary powers, but in the year 2019 in order to avoid the apocalypse we jumped into a vortex and ended up being scattered throughout the timeline in Dallas, Texas. Vanya: ... Five: Any questions? Vanya: ... what do you mean the apocalypse?

At some point ollowing on from this (but unknown which ep) Luther and Vanya have this conversation:

Vanya: What caused the apocalypse? Luther: ... You did... but not alone. I was part of it, we all- Vanya: How? Luther: You got angry. Lost control, you... blew up the moon. It slammed into Earth wiping out everything.

In ep3 we see both Allison and Raymond actively involved in the protests against the segregation by taking part in a sit-in (X).

Allison: I’d like to be served, please.  Waitress: *pointing to a Whites Only sign* Can’t you read, girl?  Allison: Seven languages.  Customer: Oh, you smart one, huh?  *The door opens and many other blank protesters enter.*  Allison: We’d like to be served, please.

However, it goes badly as "police brutally attack (the) peaceful protestors." (X).

The summary for ep3 says that “Allison reconnects with Klaus,” and in ep4 she is “searching frantically for Ray.” It seems, based on the following pics, that she finds Ray in jail and Klaus & Ben have a hand in getting him out.

Note the word "buearu" on the window and Ray in the background.

Based on Klaus' outfit, its sometime around this point he goes on a massive bender. We see him running with a bottle of whiskey, his gleeful cult following him, and dancing in a drinks aisle.

Note that Klaus is bleeding from his lip.

Following on from this, Klaus wakes up on Allisons floor, feeling worse for wear.

Ben: And how are we feeling this morning? Klaus: Ugh, peaches and cream, how are you? Ben: Curious. How many more rock bottoms are you going to have to hit before you start taking care of yourself?

In episode 4 “Vanya contends with a crisis at the farm.” Could this link to her developing romance as, despite Sissy still being with her husband (X), she and Vanya begin exploring a relationship?

The summary confirms that in ep4, “Five, Diego, and Lila crash a party at the Mexican consulate.” But the Swedes are still hot on their tail.

Note the third Swede in the background, chasing Five?

After surviving this, they return to their base. The following pic has been confirmed as happening in ep4 (X).

At some unknown point the Swedes (or two of them) also go after Allison, though it appears she fights back (and kills one of them?).

"They weren't here to sell vacuums!"

Also at some unknown point, Allison and Luther have a catch up. Based on Luthers partially healed face, this is after his conversation with Vanya in ep2.

Luther: We did it again… apparently.  Allison: Did what again?  Luther: Ended the world.

Also at some unknown point Vanya and Diego reconcile: “I don’t remember what I did, but I’m sorry, if that means anything,” Vanya tells Diego as he threateningly juggles a knife. “It does,” he responds, before accepting her as a confidant he can turn to for advice on how to handle his feelings for Lila. (X)

It appears that ep5 is when the whole family finally reunites. The episode summary explains how “summoned to an emergency meeting, the siblings hatch very different plans for how to spend their last 6 days on Earth.” (I have no idea what order the conversation goes in as each bit is a snippet from a different promo vid).

Five: Klaus, is Ben here? Klaus: No, unfortunately ghosts can’t time-travel. Ben: Are you kidding me?

Five: (I/We) really screwed the pooch on this one, the whole going back in time and getting stuck thing. But the real kick in the pants here is… we brought the end of the world back here with us. Klaus: Oh my god, again? My cult is gonna be so pissed. I told them we had until 2019. Five: We have until Monday.

Klaus: Is it Vanya? Allison: Klaus! Klaus: What? Its usually Vanya.

Vanya: None of us are supposed to be here, right? I mean, what if its us?

Luther: Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald. Diego: Hey, you're working for Jack Ruby! Klaus: Allison has been very involved in local politics. Allison: Okay, you started a cult! Ben: Thank you!

“We have to make it right again, before everyone and everything we know is dead.”

Following on from this, Klaus, Vanya and Allison have some bonding time in the beauty parlour.

Vanya: How do you guys deal with this? Allison: What? Vanya: I mean all of it. Time travel. Seeing the dead...?

Vanya: I’m gunna tell Sissy that I love her… I don’t want any secrets.  Klaus: Yeah? Allison: Yeah! Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Yes. Cos, y’know, if, if its all going to go tits up the least I could do is be honest with my husband. Klaus: Oh… does that mean I have to face my cult? I just hate group breakups, thats why I stopped dating twins.

“Klaus, Vanya, and Allison end a moping session by dancing together to Twistin’ the Night Away.” (X). Its been confirmed that the following pic is from ep 5. (X)

In episode 6, “Dave visits Klaus’ compound” and “the siblings meet their father for dinner” in a Tiki bar. Its been confirmed that the following pic is from ep 6 (X).

An interview with the cast has them talking about ‘the elevator scene’ and how hard it was to shoot because everyone kept cracking up. (X)

Five: All right, quick run down. Luther; super strength, Klaus can commune with the dead, Allison can rumour anyone to do anything-  Diego: Yeah except she never uses it.  Allison: I heard a rumour you punched yourself in the face.  *Diego punches himself in the face.*  Reginald: *looking at Vanya* And you?  Luther: Uh, maybe we don’t… take Vanya for a test drive.  Klaus: Oh yeah thats probably not a good idea…  Vanya: What, I think I can handle it.  *Despite everyones protests, Vanya explodes a fruit bowl.*

Based on Luther and Klaus’ outfits, the following scenes also take place sometime around the same time (ep6/7).

First, Luther pulls up to a house in an urban area, he gets out the car and has a conversation with a man (X). This is the same house where the three Swedes were seen in their milk-truck at night.

Note the gun and flask on the seat.

Next, Allison and Raymond deal with a body (of a Swede?) while Klaus & Ben don’t help. The summary of ep6 also mentions that Allison gives Ray a peek at her powers, which is maybe why he’s on board to deal with a body.

But what's the big flash that startles them? Well it may have something to do with all this craziness:

Note the chairs and people on the ceiling.

It’s hard to tell but since Ben is there, this could be Klaus being thrown backwards? The outfit certainly looks similar.

In an interview, the cast talk about how the room had to be painted completely white (then returned to normal), and how nice it was for the character of Ben to be able to share a moment with Vanya (X). This implies Vanya looses control and Ben is able to talk her down.

At some unknown point, it looks like the siblings all return to the academy.

Note that the background behind Klaus implies he’s sat in the same seat that he did as a child.

An interview asked the question "You all eat 'brain' at a family dinner..." (X) and in a different interview the cast talk about the brain acid trip (X). Could this be when that happens?

Either way, things likely don’t run smoothy. “Reginald still proves just as capable of preying on their deepest insecurities, while somehow leaving them attacking each other instead of him.” (X)

The summary for ep7 mentions someone named Carl issuing a warning to Vanya, and in ep8 it states that the FBI torture her, so its most likely the following images are from this time:

The tape recorder is turned off...

The figure from behind slaps a cloth over Vanya’s face as she takes on the appearance of The White Violin.

“A dimly lit room... Vanya is strapped to a chair. The floor is soaked with water. At the moment she is being tortured for information... After an electric shock the lights on the ceiling begin to flicker. “‘Is she doing that?’ asks a fearful FBI agent.” (X)

Also in ep7, “Five travels to 1982 to carry out his new mission”. Theres a possibility that Luther is also involved in this as a promo pic has snow surrounding the house, which I don’t think would happen in November in Dallas?

Five: I need a spotter. Luther: What is that? Like a wingman?

The summary for ep8 includes the fact that “Diego discovers what causes the apocalypse.”

“Everything in our new lives is connected to the plot to assassinate the president. That can’t be a coincidence.”

The fact we see the gun Five was going to use to assassinate JFK, implies this scene takes place on Nov 22nd, 3 days before the apocalypse. And we know from the summaries that in ep8 “Five concocts a risky plan to intercept another version of himself.”

Old Five, young Five (who’s still really old Five), and Luther.

However this may not go to plan as the summary for ep9 says, “the Fives plot against each other.”

And the summary for episode 10 is: “reeling from the events at the Dealey Plaza, the siblings head to the farm to help save Harlan.”

MOMENTS I CAN’T PLACE:

Someone flips over a table in what looks like it could be a distillery. Based on outfit and hair this could possibly be Lila, Klaus, or (less likely) Diego. Five is also there.

A similar (the same?) person flips over while avoiding gunfire. There are targets and what looks like training equipment, and the person shooting is standing under a large umbrella.

If the flipping person is Lila, then this may link to what the summaries reveal about her arc: In ep5 she confronts her mother, in ep6 the Handler is mentioned (albeit talking to Five), and in ep9 she learns the truth about her parents…

Five sneaks through a room with a camera and lights. On the blackboard the word “Pogo” is written, implying this could be Reggies house and this room is where he is teaching and studying young Pogo.

Diego walks into a control room. It looks like there might be 2-way glass. Could this link to ep8 when Diego discovers what cases the apocalypse?

Five is seen in a building with wooden panels on the walls.

Based on the background of this shot of Carmichael, the building could be part of The Commission.

“You...”

Five gets buried in rubble. Aidan looks chill about it though.

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Well done for making it all the way!

I’ve tried to avoid speculation as much as possible and keep the language suggestive. I don’t know all the facts, I WILL have made errors, probably many! So please take all this with a suggestive grain of salt, I am just a hooman trying to use her squishy brain.

Please let me know if you spot any errors, think of anything else I can add, or if you want more info about any specific event ^‿^

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s2 #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #pogo

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theinkyisles · 3 years ago

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haunting figures

this is for my @ts-storytime ‘s submission! my artist is @ravenclawicecream and it was awesome working together for this piece. word count: 15001 tags: discussion of war, slight internalized ableism, arranged marriages, familial death, awful parents, open/ambiguous ending author’s notes: im never writing anything like this again. it was an experience im glad for !! but i never wanna do this again salkjfdal

The meeting had lasted centuries, it seemed.

In all reality, it had only been a few hours, but he felt like he could see the hairs at his temple graying. The aching joints had been a painful companion all his life, so it seemed that being an old man at age thirty-one was simply his life now. The books surrounding him and the crutches leaning on the side of the desk agreed.

Logan sighed and let his head drop onto the stack of his papers. His eyes threatened to shut but it was only three o’clock in the afternoon and the number of advisors clamoring for his attention was unbelievable. He was only the king, not God Herself. Honestly, if he was a power-hungry noble wishing to be in the king’s good graces, he wouldn’t try and get an appointment with him. Appointments never solved anything; any good court member knew that.

There weren’t many good court members, as you could tell.

Lifting his head from the inked parchments, he rubbed his brow with the palm of his hand. The court member problem was an on-going one, left over from his mother’s reign. Her partner’s death shocked everyone and the queen scrambled to recover the pieces of what she discovered to be a shattered kingdom. She couldn’t fix everything, and so that’s what Logan grew up learning how to do.

The king pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. “Fix everything” he murmured to himself. “What a useless task.”

A knock came at the door and Logan called for whoever was at the door to come in. “Hello, your majesty,” his steward bowed. “I was told to fetch you.” Logan lifted his eyes to peer over the top of his glasses.

“Am I not the one who is supposed to request others to be fetched?” he asked. The steward’s eyes glittered with amusement as he straightened.

“We both know that that’s no fun,” Emile said, placing his arms behind his back. “Besides you’re going to like who’s come to visit.” Logan exhaled deeply.

“Well, if you are here to fetch me, let me be fetched.” Logan pressed both his hands to the desk and slowly raised. His knees creaked in protest, but he kept going until he was upright. Grabbing the crutches, he swiftly made his way to his steward. Together, they walked the ornate halls until they reached the throne room, where the courtier opened the door and Logan marched inside.

“Your majesty!” a voice boomed. A man clad in black and green stood in the middle of the room, his hand resting on his decorative scabbard. “How is that every time I visit, you seem to become more and more the old man you are inside?” The servants around the room tensed, but Logan just grinned.

“Remus, how is it every time you visit, you can never find a better joke to greet me with?” Logan countered. Remus threw his head back, a loud laugh filling the room. Servants around the room winced at the loud display, but Logan merely smiled.

“Never change, my friend.” Remus smiled, his eyes crinkling. Logan’s heart grew fond at the sight.

“Well, let me sit, and then we may discuss why you are here.”

“What, a prince can’t come to visit his old friend?” Logan scoffed as he sat down in the throne, removing the crutches from his arms.

“Not when said prince has been shifting his weight from foot to foot like a nervous wreck since I stepped foot into here.” The anxious look in his eyes grew more apparent, but Remus’ smile never dropped. His hand began shaking back and forth at his side.

“I wanted to wait for a bit longer before bringing it up.”

“Nonsense. This is the world we live in, your highness. We’d be fools to forget our responsibilities for a moment.” Remus nodded.

“There has been…a complication in the plan we drafted last summer.” Logan straightened in his seat.

“The one for the fields of the volcanoes in your kingdom?”

“Exactly, my dear friend.”

“What complication could come from that? It was a routine signing, everyone agreed to it and- “

“-and there shouldn’t be another meeting for several more years?” Remus finished. “Yes, but the kingdom of Xious has found that the terms of the contract that has been in place for a millennia before the current monarch is not suitable and wishes to make some changes.”

“What changes could they possibly want? They get forty percent of the crops and pay an incredibly low rent, even after adjusting for inflation!”

“Your anger matches that of my own,” Remus agrees and steps closer, “but they are willing to go to war over it, and, as interesting as I find that, it turns out that death and destruction is not good for kingdoms, so we need to find a solution.”

“War?” Logan exclaimed uncharacteristically. “Over a treaty about wheat?”

“It would definitely be quite the bloodbath. Your army is no match for Xious’.”

“War is quite a rash move, especially if his country is suffering famine.” Remus shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t pretend to know what goes through the child’s mind. My brother believes he’s scared and he sees that war is the only way to protect his country’s dignity. I say that he has been pushing off help from his advisors in some vain attempt to prove himself.”

“Have you done due diligence? There is no reason for the Xiousians to be acting in this manner.” Logan said, leaning his chin into his hand. Roman scoffed, crossing his arms.

“My father would not approve that, not with how the king is acting.”

“Remus, please, your father has little influence in the court anymore, especially in his old age.” Roman gave the Cygnan king a look.

“Please, Logan, you’ve met my father.” Logan rolled his eyes. “You act as if you didn’t know that.”

“Forgive me for still finding it ridiculous.”

“You are forgiven,” Remus jested. Logan huffed a laugh and let his head drop into his hands.

Without saying anything, Logan picked up his crutches, slipping his arms in. He stood up and Remus straightened on instinct. Logan made his way down the steps and walked over to the doors leading out of the throne room. He looked behind him to where Remus was staring at him quizzically in the middle of the room.

“Well, what on Earth are you waiting for?” Logan laughed and kept moving towards the doors. Remus chuckled and hurried after his friends. The guards at the doors moved to follow them, but Logan shook his head. “Leave me with my friend. I certainly won’t die between here and my chambers.”

“But sire-”one of the guards started.

“I am well aware of the protocol, my parent was the one who wrote it,” Logan snapped back. “I will be fine.” Logan saw the guard hesitate for a moment and took his change to keep walking down the hallways.

“You are so rude to them,” Remus mused.

“I’m the king and I can take care of myself. They know to respect me at this point, I’ve more than proven myself.”

“I wonder how many times you could be assassinated between now and then,” Remus thought out loud after a moment. The same guard stiffened and Remus smiled widely in his direction. Logan barely withheld a snort and Remus turned the smile onto the king.

“Are you going to try and find out?” Logan asked rhetorically, beginning to make his way down the hall.

“You mean to tell me that you haven’t taken every chance to find out the exact about of time it would take for any number of assassinations to take place in this exact hallway? That’s so very unlike you,” Remus laughed as Logan smacked his shin with the crutch. “Watch it, Logey, lest I report back to my father that I was assaulted by the king of Cygnas.”

“Oh, shut it,” Logan rolled his eyes.

“Hm,” Remus preened, “I don’t think I will.”

“You and your brother will be the death of me, I swear,” Logan muttered.

“Speaking of my brother…” Remus trailed off. Logan wrinkled his nose at the sound of the prince Roman. “He wasn’t able to accompany me, but we might be returning in a few weeks’ time in case of war, especially since he is the new crown prince.” Logan’s embarrassment shifted into shock.

“What? I thought that-“

“Father has also decided which son will take the throne.” Remus stopped in the middle of the hallway. Logan followed suit.

“Why I haven’t I heard about this sooner? Has he declared this officially?” Logan asked incredulously. Remus shook his head.

“The position is brand new. I heard about it myself while in transit coming here. We both knew that this was coming, Logan.” Remus gave the other king a look and Logan turned away to stare at the ground.

“Yes, but-” Logan cut himself off, frustrated. He turned back to Remus. “Send my congratulations to your brother. He will be a fine king.

“I hope you know that resenting me is an acceptable course of action.” Remus said knowingly.

“I just-”

“You wanted me to be king. I know.” Remus stepped closer to Logan, resting a hand against Logan’s cheek. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

“What kind of talk is that?” Roman looked away, allowing himself to shove his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Remus.”

“Logan,” Remus mocked slightly. “Just yell at me already, won’t you?”

Logan scowled. “Have you no faith in me? Good heavens.” Logan slipped his arms out of his crutches and leaned them against the wall. He pressed up close to Remus and hugged him, making his two inches over Remus known. He cupped the back of his friend’s head, pressing it against his shoulder. Remus slumped forward. “You will be a fine king. Do I wish your father had given Remus more of a chance? Yes, but that does not mean you are anywhere near unqualified for the position.”

“You’re just saying that.” Logan pulled back to look Remus in the eyes.

“Have I ever lied to you?” They stared at each other a moment. Remus searched for something in Logan’s face, but whatever dishonesty he was looking for, he couldn’t find. The air was thick with hidden messages passed between the two members of royalty. Finally, Remus let his head fall against his friend’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of Logan’s jacket.

“You know it’s serious when you start thanking me for things.” Remus snorted.

They stood there for a few more minutes before pulling away. Logan pressed a kiss to his lover’s forehead and Remus leaned into it.

“You know me too well, fiend.” Logan smiled softly as he picked his crutches back up from against the wall.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

Weeks had passed since Remus left Cygnas to return to his own kingdom. Despite promises from both twins and the king of Ticevas, the pair of princes were still in transit. Logan was antsy and worried. The threat of war from the Xious kingdom was getting more and more real, with reports of soldiers being seen at the border, and if Remus had to set off to take care of the admittedly powerful army, Logan wouldn’t see him for several months, if not years. He needed to sort this out between Xious and Ticevas, even if it was for purely selfish reasons.

Selfish can be described as practical. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

In their own private letters, passed through business letters addressed to Roman who handed them to his twin, Remus reassured his lover that his brother would be there soon. Yet, Logan’s anxieties still were not soothed.

My bleeding heart,

What do you think of the new introduction? Roman keeps suggesting these ridiculously sappy names for me to call you, but this was the only one I liked, even if I had to modify it a bit. Tell me if you enjoy it.

The Xiousian king visited this past week to try and negotiate with Roman about the contract. They didn’t really get anywhere, which normally wouldn’t bother my brother, but I had to try even less to piss him off at dinner. He stormed out and everything. Quite the dramatic one he is, I have no idea what you see in him.

Speaking of seeing, he plams to be in Cygnas within the next fortnight. I know you’ve been worried about the war with Xious, but Father is slowly becoming more lenient in his old age. With our treaty with you and Limora, I think he’s seeing that handing over the food and money this once won’t be an issue (which is what I’ve been telling him from the beginning, but of course, he only listens when Roman says something).

Enough of business. I miss you, quill. Kill a flower for me and stare out the window like I’m your husband gone to war.

Yours,

Remus

Logan smiled as he thumbed over the indents in the paper, the spritz of the cologne Remus wore wafting up from the page. It was a shorter letter than usual, much shorter, but any word was better than none at all, in Logan’s opinion.

It was barely dawn when the letter had been given to him, the poor messenger looking dead on his feet. It had been difficult to conceal his excitement and relief, but he knew that getting a letter from what everyone thought to be Roman was no cause to be filled with such joy. Only Roman and the two of them knew of Logan and Remus’ relationship, though he had no doubt that their father knew as well, and turned a blind eye. As the general of the army and now officially second-in-command to Crown Prince Roman, any upstanding royal or noble family knew how valuable having that connection would be.

Unfortunately, it meant Logan and Remus would never marry. With the current treaty in place, there was no need to strengthen it with a marriage and Remus’ father, and Roman, after the king died, would need Remus elsewhere for political maneuvers.

Back in his early days as crown prince, Logan had foolishly hoped that marrying Remus would be an option. Roman was an obvious shoe-in to be announced king even then, (no matter if Logan secretly hoped that his lover would be awarded the honor) and Logan continuously badgered his mother about the potential ways they could fortify the alliance with Ticevas. The king was sure that his mother knew of his relationship with the prince and both resented her and was grateful for her saying nothing of the matter. They might have secured a betrothal while Remus’ father was younger and more easily persuaded, but Logan was unsure of his and Remus’ ability to maintain both a burgeoning personal relationship and permanent political relationship in their youth.

And yet, there was almost nothing Logan wanted more than to fall asleep each night with Remus in his arms.

Logan exhaled and carefully folded the letter back up. He slid it under the false bottom in one of his desk drawers, relishing in the smell of Remus’ cologne that rose from the letters before shutting it firmly. Today was too busy for him to be distracted, even if Remus was a wonderful distraction indeed.

He shifted his attention to the documents in front of him and wrinkled his nose. Taxes were important to his kingdom’s economy, but even he found them dreadfully boring. The advisors always insisted that they needed to raise taxes on the lower class almost exponentially in order to pay for better cities, but Logan kept them on a tight leash. The last thing he wanted to do was rob the majority of his kingdom blind. Not to mention the fact that the taxes were still outrageously high and no one deigned to put the money to good use. He found it absolutely disgusting how all the nobles in his court refused to pay their own taxes, yet insisted that those who were living paycheck to paycheck deserved to be burgled by their own government.

He had opinions on the matter, not that he was ever that passionate in court. That would lead to a scandal that he did not want nor need to deal with. He was fixing things slowly but surely.

A knock came at the door and Logan called out to permit them entry. He straightened his posture as his personal steward stepped into the room. Emile bowed and Logan nodded his head in return, remaining sitting at his desk.

“Good morning, Emile. I trust you have a reason to be interrupting me at five o’clock in the morning?” Emile smiled at his boss, not put off by the seemingly dismissive greeting.

“Do you how do, Your Majesty?” Emile said instead of answering, a cheeky grin on his face. Logan’s face dropped into a confused scowl.

“Emile, that phrase is utterly nonsensical, I have no idea why you use it so often,” the king said, looking back down at his papers. Emile laughed.

“It’s simply a fun turn of phrase, Your Majesty, nothing nonsensical about it.” Logan opened his mouth to retort but Emile kept going. “Besides, I have some important information for you.”

“Really? Do share, Emile.” Logan motioned for the steward to continue, still not looking up from his papers. He heard Emile shift nervously.

“The Xiousian king is here and has requested an audience.” Logan’s head shot up, the quill dropping with a clatter to the desk.

“The Xiousian king? When did he arrive?” Logan demanded, pressing his weight to the desk and rising from his seat. Emile grabbed the crutches by the door and swiftly walked over, setting them against the desk for Logan to use if he so wished.

“He arrived mere moments ago, it appears that they rode through the night to get here.”

“Good heavens,” Logan muttered, paling considerably. It was a quiet for a moment as Logan stared down at the ground, trying to decide what to do. “Alright, you go speak with the king while I ready myself. Tell him I will be there shortly.” Emile stared at Logan for a few moments, not moving to comply to Logan’s orders.

“Logan,” Emile started, his voice soft, “you don’t have to go and greet him. I can do so myself and you can take your time.” Logan kept his head down, avoiding making contact with the steward. “Valerie wouldn’t want you to force yourself to-”

“Don’t speak her name,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “As far as I am aware, I do not know Virgil and Virgil does not know me. There is no reason for me to hide from him.” Emile opened his mouth to speak, but Logan shook his head. “I’m not having this argument today.” Emile hesitated before nodding and moving to leave the room.

“I’ll inform His Majesty that you will be arriving shortly,” Emile said softly, before shutting the door behind him. Logan sighed as the final click was heard, raising one hand to massage at his constricting chest.

To the world, he was Logan, King of Cygnas, the only child of Monarch Ranal and Queen Leona.

Valerie couldn’t be a factor in his decisions anymore.

Logan threw the doors of the throne room open as he strode in, his ornamental cloak fluttering behind him. He took advantage of the low pain that day to try and be as dramatic as possible (Roman’s points about theatrics and intimidation had some merit), but he saw Emile standing by the throne, crutches in hand. Something in him shriveled at the idea that not even his steward thought he could make it through this meeting without buckling beneath the pressure and aching, but he cast it aside. This was not the time for pride.

He regretted the powerful move when he saw the tiny boy in the middle of the room. He knew that the Xiousian king was young, having kept track of any news coming from the Xiousian front, but the boy looked so small. Logan took one look at the kid’s trembling shoulders and stopped in his tracks. No sudden movements, he decided.

“King Virgil,” Logan greeted. “Your presence in my court is highly unexpected, especially at this hour in the morning.” The boy attempted to straighten up, but the crown on his head tilted to the side. It was almost comical.

“King Logan,” the other king bowed his head. “I have travelled a long time to be here.”

“And yet that does not answer the real question,” Logan threw back. He started walking towards the boy, taking note of how the other king winced as Logan drew nearer. The older king passed by the boy, noting how he didn’t relax until he reached the throne. Logan tucked his cloak beneath him as he sat down. “Why are you here?”

“Well, you must know about how your ally Ticevas and how they have been refusing aide to my hungry people.” Virgil took a few short, yet decisive steps closer to the throne. Logan had to give it to him; he might be scared, but he was handling it well. Logan cocked his head to the side.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but that is not the information I was given by the Crown Prince of Ticevas.” The boy glowered and he furrowed his brow.

“I do not know what information the Crown Prince has given you, but I can assure you that if it is anything close to what I believe Prince-General Remus has said to his superiors, it is unequivocally false.” Logan quirked an eyebrow, but the rest of his facial expression remained peacefully blank.

“You cannot blame me for trusting what has been told to me by the Crown Prince and Prince-General of Ticevas themselves,” Logan lifted his hands from the arms of his throne, folding them into his lap. “I do not intend on changing my opinion on what is true and what is false on unsupported hearsay and beliefs.” Virgil scoffed and he crossed his arms, the movement made slightly difficult by the heavy furs he had draped around his shoulders.

“Do you believe everything the Ticevans tell you?” the boy asked, no hesitance in his voice. “They are known for their dramatics and story-telling, Your Majesty, not every word that comes from their mouths is sure to be true.” Logan blinked in shock a few times, caught slightly off-guard. No one had dared question his trust in the Ticevan twins before.

He’d have to do better.

“I’m not sure the Ticevan royal family would entirely appreciate you implying that they are liars, Your Majesty,” Logan said as-matter-of-factly. Virgil scowled, taking impulsive steps towards the throne. The soldiers flanking the throne dropped into a defensive stance, holding out their spears. The young king froze and the guards that were with him when Logan entered pulled their swords from their scabbards. “Remigius,” Logan scolded, turning towards his head guard at his right. “Please, show some decorum.” He turned back to Virgil. “My apologies, my liege, as king I am sure you aware of the heightened security.”

The silver-haired captain-of-the-guard let out a soft scoff as he resumed his stationary position. Logan shot the man a stern glance but Remy refused to turn towards him. “Yes, I am aware,” Virgil said warily, and Logan saw him make a soft hand motion out of the corner of his eye. The guards stood down, their swords back in their scabbard. One guard, his braids pulled back into a tight bun, left his hand on the hilt. “If I have to ask,” Virgil said snidely, “may I approach, Your Majesty?” Logan gave him a deadpan look but the thirteen-year-old held his ground.

Logan broke first, surprisingly, sighing and waving his hand in a motion for Virgil to step forward. “You may approach, King Virgil.” Virgil didn’t move, instead resting his weight on his heels, a smug smirk on his face. A ‘well, now that I have permission, I don’t want to do it’ move. Incredibly immature, Logan noted, but then again, no matter what status Virgil might have, a teenager is still a teenager. “Very funny,” Logan said wryly.

“Why, King Logan, I have no idea what you mean!” Virgil said in a high-pitched innocent voice. Logan held in a chuckle. A few beats passed as Logan stared down at the young boy.

“Why are you here, King Virgil?” Logan said, slightly bored. “You come in with bravado and accusations and you still have not answered my very first question.” Virgil stuck his nose up.

“We are here to offer a chance of your kingdom surviving the crossfire.” Logan furrowed his brow and sat up slightly in his throne.

“What crossfire.”

“Ticevas has disrespected our sovereignty and threatened us tenfold over. Xious will not stand for it.”

“And your solution is to kill everything on sight?” Virgil scoffed.

“You have no tact, Your Majesty.” Logan raised an eyebrow and Virgil turned red. “Apologies, that-that was uncalled for.” Logan hummed, amused.

“Join me for dinner,” he said suddenly and he placed his hands against the arms of the throne. “You and your entourage are welcome to stay in the castle for the next week and we can discuss matters in a more private setting.” Confusion flashed across Virgil’s face and he looked towards the guard to his left, a question of whether or not he should accept floating between them.

“I accept your invitation,” Virgil responded a moment later, his eyes still locked with that of his guard. He turned back towards Logan with a polite, sardonic smile. “It was an honor to meet you, King Logan of Cygnas.” Logan raised his eyebrows but did not smile back.

“And it was certainly interesting to meet you, King Virgil of Xious.” Logan pushed himself off the throne, sliding his right arm into the crutch someone in his periphery offered him. He stepped down the stairs until he was face to face with the Xiousian king.

Virgil was a lot shorter so up close.

Logan offered his hand and Virgil stared at it a moment. The room held its breath as the Xiousian processed the gesture. Hesitantly, Virgil uncrossed his arms and gripped Logan’s admittedly much larger hand. Logan shook once, a firm yet gentle motion, before releasing and walking right past the young king towards the door of the throne room.

At the very least, he had an excuse to write Remus.

Remus,

I’m afraid I write to you not with personal anecdotes but with political news.

T’is dreadful, I’m aware.

The young boy king of Xious dropped by this evening, though it will be a few days past by the time this letter reaches you. He is small, but skilled with his language. His father very obviously groomed this boy for the throne at a young age. He stutters, though. It reminds me slightly of myself at his age.

I have invited him to stay at the palace for a few days, provided he have dinner with me. I will write you after the dinner; hopefully I will have more information for you then. Your brother told me that he threatened war over the treaty, but he seemed quite offended at this accusation, lending me to believe that there has been a miscommunication. You were there for this exchange? I need both sides here.

Just so you are aware, and please relay this to Roman but do not tell your father, he has given me an offer to avoid crossfires of war. I don’t pretend to understand why he would offer to have me fight alongside his kingdom or die and then turn around and be offended at me saying that he is planning war. I fear there are other factors at play, not simply a confused child at the reins of a job that no individual can truly succeed at.

I hope you are well, my love.

Sincerely,

His Majesty, King Logan

Preparing for the dinner on such late notice made everyone on the castle on edge. Logan rarely had visitors as it was and as such, unused guest wings weren’t cleaned with the frequency that was kept throughout the more populated sections of the castle. If worries of war breaking out over a scared teenager weren’t plaguing Logan with every waking moment, he might’ve taken a moment to thank each staff member that passed him by.

He made a note to up their pay for the month.

“You know I’m not one to question your decisions,” Remigius, Logan’s head guard, said as the king and him walked down the hallway, “but enemy Xious here? In your castle?”

“If I turn them away, I will not gain any information that could actually be of use to our allies. The Ticevan princes would not lie to me and so I am eager to understand exactly why I’m being told two different stories.” Remigius scowled.

“You’re ignoring all the potential security concerns, babes, we don’t have the manpower to guard all the guestrooms, even if they only have ten in the security detail.”

“It’s thirteen,” the king said offhandedly as they turned a corner. “The person dressed in the steward colors had a knife hidden up their sleeve. Some type of holster, I presume.” Remigius paused, gaping at Logan – who kept moving down the hall at a rapid pace – before jogging slightly to catch up.

“I don’t wanna even ask how you caught that.” Logan smiled wryly.

“I’m doing everyone’s job at once,” Logan began, his voice vaguely humorous as if he were starting the beginning of joke. “I have to pretend to do yours at one point.” Remigius scoffed and Logan knew he would cross his arms if he wasn’t holding onto his spear. They made their way down the rest of the hall, their voices in a hushed chatter and Remy complained about what an awkward position Logan put him in and Logan shooting back that this is exactly what he hired Remy for. When they arrived at the door, Logan sighed heavily. “This isn’t something I want to be doing, Remigius,” Logan said softly. “Preventing a war from happening is just as taxing as fighting the war itself.”

“I agree,” Remy said, “but you have to remember our limits.” Logan sighed again, before pushing open the door into the small conference room.

Originally, Logan had a council of advisors and early on in the last day’s of his mother’s reign and the beginning stages of his own, he met with them frequently. Every book on ruling and being fair that Logan could get his hands on emphasized the importance on seeking others’ outlooks on each decision a ruler made for their country and when he was nineteen and fresh from his mother’s funeral, Logan dove straight into that. Looking back on it, it was a poor decision.

For many reasons.

Years later, Logan was still stuck weeding out nobleman who gained their positions through willful missights by both his parents or a generous donation of money towards the upkeep of the castle. The budget for the upkeep of the castle was woefully tight and it had always been that way, so he was sure that his parents squirreled away the money somewhere or maybe wasted it away.

Presently, Logan still stuck by the idea that a stable king had stable council, but it was increasingly difficult to find said steady council when all the councilors seemed keen on starting wars at every given opportunity. The only nobles or advisors or councilors Logan allowed in his presence anymore were handpicked himself, regardless of status.

Or attitude for that matter.

Dominic Dormis, known colloquially as “The Critic” and called Dice by everyone who was just out of enough common sense to have a conversation with him, sat in the middle of a long wooden meeting table, papers spread artfully around him. He was the brother to Remigius, though ironically, it was Remigius who insisted that Logan not hire Dominic. Logan ignored his head guard’s advice and it was the best decision he had ever made.

“Tell me, Dice,” Logan started, walking over to look over the advisor’s shoulder at the papers sitting in front of him, “how urgently do I need to try and fix this all?” Dice laughed humorlessly as he threw his pen down and leaned back in the chair.

“You’ve made a right mess of this, darling!” Dice exclaimed, tilting his head back to look Logan in the eye. “No matter how often they run the numbers, nothing looks favorable.” Logan sighed deeply, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Are we really that low on manpower?” Logan asked, his voice bordering on desperate, and screwed his eyes shut. Dice tutted his tongue, motioning towards the papers.

“I haven’t been here all morning trying to spread our defenses across the Xiousian border for nothing, darling,” Dice snarked. Logan opened his eyes slightly to glare at him.

“We’re aiming for peace, Dice,” Logan snapped, “not to antagonize the same kingdom threatening war by placing our entire military on the border.” Dice just shrugging, looking down at the papers.

“It was the only way I felt we had a chance,” Dice said defensively.

Oh, damn it all,” Logan swore under his breath. “What are your thoughts on Ticevas lying?” Dice just scoffed.

“Please, the boy had a point. We Ticevans have a tendency for the dramatics.” Logan scrunched his nose.

“So am I to march up to the Crown Prince and his general brother and tell them to their face that they’re lying? Were they even at that meeting?” Dice shrugged, picking up his quill to dip it into ink and scribble a note into the blank space of one of the pages. “Why is it that when I am listing all the things going wrong, you jump right in, but when I try to figure out a solution, you just sit there nodding?”

“You hired me for a reason,” Dice replied in a singsong voice. “I tell you what you need to hear, Logan, not what you want to hear.” Logan crossed his arms, his face pinched.

“What do we do then?” Dice sighed and moved his head back down, searching through the sheets of paper.

“You either side with Xious or you get them to back down,” Dice says, reciting the words from a piece of paper held close to his face. Logan narrowed his eyes and swiped the paper from Dice’s hands, much to his advisor’s indignance.

“Dice, this just says ‘you’re screwed’. That’s not entirely professional. I do have to present these papers to the princes of Ticevas.” Dice scoffed, pushing his chair back and kicking his feet up on top of the desk. “And now your feet are on the table.”

“You’re very good at observations,” Dice said wryly. “Look, you have that dinner with the Xiousian king. Make it count. Make yourself likable.” Logan moved to open his mouth but Dice cut him off. “Diplomacy and facts might work with more stable-minded individuals, but this is a kid, Your Majesty. You need to charm him.” Logan tossed the papers back on the table.

“Fantastic.”

“It’s not all bad, Your Majesty. Emile said that he’s your-”

“No.”

“What?” Dice asked innocently. He blinked up at Logan. “It’s a good strategy, my lord, it will work, especially on a boy his age.”

“I will not be using my dead sister’s name in war talks, Dice.” The advisor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, yes, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound all that wonderful.” Logan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dice shuffled through his papers and Logan could hear him scribbling down notes and calculations. “A right mess you’ve made of this, Logan.”

“Don’t pin this on me,” the king hissed. Dice snorted. A knock came at the door. “Enter!”

“Well, hello there, Dice! It’s been a while,” Emile said as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. Logan looked up to see Dice waving slightly, leaning forward against the table onto his elbows.

“Hello, dear brother-in-law,” Dice said amusingly. “It’s a shame you are so busy these days, we’ve hardly had a chance to speak one-on-one.” Emile’s eyes crinkled and he laughed.

“That’s what family dinners on Sundays are for, Dice, it’s not my fault you never show up.”

“Your Majesty,” Logan greeted coolly, rising up from his seat in order to bow slightly. His knuckles were braced against the edge of the table, allowing his body weight to distribute. “How kind of you to join me this evening.”

Virgil stood in the doorway, classic Xiousian furs piled up around his shoulders and wrapped around his head. His eyes swept across the room, as if admiring each piece of furniture and morsel of food. His face was shadowed by a thin wrap covering the tops of his head and draped across and around his neck, but Logan could still the stringy black hair that reminded Logan of himself when he was a teenager. The way Virgil held himself reminded Logan even of his parent, which was not necessarily a reminder that he was looking for. If he were superstitious, it would feel like a bad omen.

Logan felt the weight of what this dinner meant settling across his shoulders like a physical presence. Ever since the meeting with Dice, several other nobleman came up to him, trying to play up the might of Cygnan army. They acted incredibly patriotic but Dice’s intel (and also that of his brother, Remigius) showed him what their true intentions were. Deals with investors and black markets across both Cygnas, Ticevas, and Limora could make them rich if Logan decided to follow through with the war.

None of them seemed to take into consideration quite exactly war would mean for absolutely everyone else. Sometimes it felt like everyone thought him as naïve as a dog running after a phantom stick. He was the King of Cygnas, the kingdom associated with all things knowledge. He had some common sense.

“Come sit,” he invited, motioning to the seat beside him. “My kitchen staff has slaved over this food all day and it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.” Logan busied himself with tucking his coattails beneath him and shuffling his chair closer to the table, but he kept track of the careful steps Virgil took towards the table. He eyed the guards at the door.

Virgil’s personal guard followed his charge to the chair, inspecting it before allowing the boy king to take a seat. Gently, the boy unwrapped the fur shawl from around his shoulders and the guard took it from him, draping it against the high back of the chair. “It is custom to wear wraps that cover our heads,” Virgil says, his voice tiny in the giant room. “I hope this does not offend you.” Logan waved his hand in dismissal.

“I hope you are not offended that I am not wearing one myself,” Logan says, motioning for a servant to pour them drinks. “In Cygnas, it’s typical to wear less clothing in the presence of guests, though,” Logan gestured at himself wryly, “the same does not usually apply to the royal household.” Virgil gave a small, but genuine smile.

“My father was a…lover of our culture,” Virgil responded, “as am I.” He paused for a moment to lift up his wine glass to his guard, who took a small sip. Whatever the guard was looking for, he didn’t find and he handed the cup back to the teen. “However, I understand that you have your own customs.” Logan nodded, beginning to pick up his cutlery to start eating.

“In Ticevas,” Logan started, “it is customary to bow in a particular fashion before approaching the monarch.” He gave Virgil a humorous look. “Of course, when my mother passed, may her soul rest among the stars, I had many things to worry about and I stormed into a meeting with the King before bowing.” He took a sip of his wine. “I don’t believe the Crown Prince or his brother have ever let me live that one down.” Virgil gave him a curious glance.

“Are you close with the Crown Prince and the Prince-General?” he asked innocently. Logan held back a deadpan look.

“As close as life-long allies can be,” Logan said, a hint of a smile creeping into his voice. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

Logan heard a small, exasperated huff as he looked down to his meal and resisted the urge to chuckle. The boy was smart, but he had little tact.

He was doing better than Logan would have done at this age, regardless.

The clinking of ornate cutlery against fine china filled the room as the two began to eat. Logan could see the young boy struggle to use the wares that were just a tad too big for his hands and wondered how such a boy could threaten war but not know how to handle utensils.

Maybe he simply used swords to eat.

Logan banished the thought from his mind. The past was the past, as his mother would say every time the Xiousian king would extend an invitation to his castle.

Damned Xious.

“How are you finding the meal, Your Majesty?” Logan asked coolly. He didn’t look up from his plate, but he heard Virgil fumbling with the fork and knife. He ought to stop playing mind games with children.

“It is suitable,” Virgil replied, his words slightly muffled by what seemed like a mouth full of food. Logan looked up to see Virgil swallow harshly and washing down the ball of food with a gulp of wine. “I appreciate your hospitality, King Logan.” Logan tilted his head to the side.

“I accept your thanks.” Logan cut a piece of meat, and held it up to his lips. “Your father was a frequent guest at this castle and I hope you will be as well, as you grow into your role as monarch of Xious.” Virgil nodded nervously, fiddling with his silverware instead of responding. “Speaking of which,” Logan continued, “my condolences to you and your family. Losing family is something I am woefully familiar with.” Virgil nodded again; his eyes were downcast.

“May his soul rest among the stars,” the young king murmured. Virgil straightened his back, having slouched slightly, “He was good father to me. He taught me well.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his plate. “Though, there is no other family to console. I am his only heir and my mother died young.” Virgil looked at him inquisitively. “You would have known her, no?” Logan resisted the urge to try and swallow down the lump that had grown in his throat. He hadn’t thought about Virgil’s mother in a long time. It was a shock to try and remember it all. Realizing he hadn’t responded, Logan cleared his throat, busying his hands with cutting a slice of the meat on his plate.

“Yes, I was good friends with your mother,” Logan said, his voice on the edge of trembling. “I simply…forget she is not here with us, from time to time.” Virgil hummed in response. “Your father was a strong king,” Logan said, instead of continuing down the previous path of conversation, “Do you plan to follow in his footsteps?” the Cygnan inquired after a moment. “He was quite focused on the military, but this is a time of peace, as you must know.” Virgil froze slightly and Logan resisted the urge to smile. Finally, he’d pushed a button. Virgil began to look up towards his guard, presumably for guidance, but he aborted the movement, tightening his grip on his wine cup that he’d reached out for as Logan was asking his question.

“It is quite a…” Virgil paused, quirking his lips as he brought the wine cup up to his mouth, “bold statement to claim peace, considering what your allies in Ticevas have accused of me.” His hands were shaking. Logan bowed his head in agreement.

“Though, if what you say is true, there is no reason to fear, is there?” Logan tilted his head. “After all, if there is war to be had between you Ticevas, there is little reason for you to be here, at the castle of a Ticevan ally.” Virgil gulped down his wine nervously and the guard behind him gripped his spear threateningly.

“Peace is a lot harder to defend than a home front, Your Majesty,” Virgil said at last, setting down his glass with a clumsy hand. “It is best to be prepared for the worst, as my father always said.” Logan raised his eyebrows and Virgil’s shoulders seem to shrink slightly.

“We simply have different tactics then,” Logan shrugged artfully, careful not to become too casual. The Xiousian guard glared. Virgil shifted slightly in his seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Uh-” Virgil went red at the noise, busying himself with cutting another piece of meat. “What-What tactics do you employ, then?” Logan looked up from his plate, smiling slightly.

“Cygnans pride ourselves on our practicality. The budgeting reflects that,” Logan explained, taking a sip from his glass. “We have dedicated numbers for each individual aspect of the government, numbers that are reviewed daily by our famed scholars.” Virgil leaned in closer, his eyes wide. “And what of you? You said that your father always liked to be prepared.” Virgil blinked a couple times before shrinking back into his seat.

“Well, my father, as you said, was a very strong man and he-he wanted that reflected in his kingdom, I suppose.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“You suppose?” Virgil fumbled to correct himself.

“No- not that I suppose, I know that is what he wanted. He taught me that himself,” Virgil rushed out. “He always said to me that being overcautious meant two things. One,” Virgil lifted up his index finger; Logan marveled at how small the child’s hands were, “you are prepared for what comes, or option number two,” Virgil lifted up a second finger, “you are pleasantly surprised.” Taken slightly by surprise, Logan huffed out a small laugh. Virgil beamed, his smile almost glowing.

It was times like these that Logan had to fight himself to see a burgeoning king, instead of an unsteady young boy. Logan was lucky he had his mother when his parent died when he was but being the tender age of twelve years old was not a fact that prepared himself for the death of someone so influential. If not for the queen, he would have been forced to take on the harrowing task of being responsible for millions of people’s lives, something that haunts him in his dreams even at his older age.

“You are quite the comedic guest,” Logan said amusingly. “It’s difficult to catch me by surprise.” Virgil went shy, ducking his head.

“I must give credit to my father then, may his soul rest among the stars,” Virgil blushed. “It was he who said it.” Logan tutted good-naturedly.

“But it was not your father who made me laugh, was it?” A glimmer danced in Virgil’s eyes and a fierce protectiveness came over Logan.

“No, I suppose it was not.”

They moved to Logan’s official office, not the throne room nor the desk in his room where Logan kept most of his paperwork. He hated the ornate decoration of the space, the gold-plated wood, and curtains of the that never ran out of dust no matter how often you beat them. He hated the paintings of the wall, memories of his mother and his parent and his sister. They were all gone, were they not? What was the point on dwelling on it?

Roman called it unhealthy. Remus called it remembering the dead how they deserved to be remembered. Logan called it practicality.

Virgil and his guard followed him inside. Reluctantly, Logan motioned for his head of security to follow him into the room. Before he shut the door, he motioned for Remigius to come close. “You do not touch a hair on that boy’s head,” Logan threatened, his voice calm and soft despite his words. “I will not be the one who starts this war.” Remy gave him an odd look.

“And if he attacks?” Logan sighed, eyeing Janus who had his hand on his charge’s shoulder. They seemed to be speaking words, but Logan could hear nothing from where he is.

“If the boy attacks, you go for his guard.” Logan stared Remigius right in the eye. “I meant what I said.” Logan bowed his head, bracing his hands against his waist. “Send word to Dice that this meeting is not to be interrupted under penalty of treason. No one but you, me, and King Virgil and his guard will know what transpires here tonight.” Remy nodded, saluting, before whistling over another soldier to relay the message. Logan straightened his shoulders, holding his hands behind his back, and turned to face Virgil and Janus.

“Feel free to sit down, we might be here a while.”

The room was silent. You could drop a pin and the sound would ring out through the hall.

“I’m not sure I quite understand,” Logan said quietly, his left hand flat against the desk. Virgil shifted nervously in his seat, no longer hiding his glances to his guard on his right.

“I wasn’t at that meeting with the diplomats,” Virgil repeated, before shutting his eyes tightly. “Didn’t- wouldn’t your contacts that were at the meeting have told you this?” Logan looked down at the papers scattered artfully across his public desk. His memory flashed to the stack of letters hidden beneath a false bottom drawer in his room and the distant feeling of being wrapped around his lover.

“No, they had not,” Logan muttered under his breath. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes briefly. “This changes many things, Virgil, I hope you understand.” He jumped at the sound of a thump against the ground, looking up to find Remy in an attack position and the Xiousian guard with a deadly stare.

“That is Your Majesty to you, King Logan,” the guard gritted out. Virgil averted his eyes from the scene, staring at the carpeted designs on the wall. Logan blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

“But of course,” he amended. “Please accept my apologies, Your Majesty.” Virgil nodded sheepishly and the guard nodded approvingly. Logan motioned towards Remy. “Remigius, stand down. It was a simple correction on my manners, one that is sorely needed.” Remy reluctantly stood down, casting a wary glance towards the guard. Virgil sighed, burying his head into his hands.

Logan looked at the clock on his desk. It was getting late.

“How,” Virgil asked, his voice bordering on a whine, “does this change things, your so-called allies refused to give my people aid after we practically kissed their boots asking so.” Logan shook his head, exhaling.

“No, Your Majesty, that is not what I have been told and that’s what becomes the problem.” Virgil peeked through his hands and Logan’s harsh expression softened and his shoulders dropped. “Your Majesty, I have been told by the Head General and Prince of Ticevas himself that your diplomats promised war if they did not lower the rent and heighten the amount of food Xious could take from the crops. There was no talk of famine or aid and King Romulus does not take kindly to threats, whether they be true or false.” Virgil sighed, sinking forward so that his elbows were against his knees.

“What would you have me do then?” Virgil asked. “Call my own advisors and agents liars? Do you know what that kind of position that would put me in? And let’s not forget the fact that those same advisors were put there by my father and removing them would be an affront to his legacy.” Logan gritted his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist.

“And what am I to do?” Logan asked, holding a tone of incredulity. “Write to my allies in the South and tell them that it was all a misunderstanding?” Virgil sighed deeply. “Your Majesty, I do not want war. My people are thriving and bloodshed would stunt that, I know it goes the same way for you.” Virgil shook his head and straightened up in his seat, his face gaunt in the flickering candlelight that brightened the room.

“I would do anything to prove Xious is a force to be reckoned with,” Virgil muttered, rising to his feet. “You would do well to remember that, King Logan, or I will be forced to show it to you.” Logan glared, bracing his hands against the desk as if he were about to stand.

“Does what I just said mean nothing to you?” Logan seethed, leaning closer to Virgil. “If your people are truly facing a famine—”

“-are you doubting the word of a king-”

“-then they cannot handle an invasion!” Logan slammed his palm against the desk. Virgil’s eyes were wide and angry and Logan’s chest heaved.

“You know nothing about my people,” Virgil seethed. “Janus, we are to leave immediately. His Majesty has shown us that we are not respected here.” Virgil stood up from his chair, but Logan held out a hand, bowing his head towards the wood of his desk.

“Wait. Please,” Logan breathed. “I don’t want this to escalate. I lost myself.” Virgil glanced at him with disdain but did not make to move towards the door. “I take your word as truth, Your Majesty, just as I take the Ticevan princes’ words as truth.”

“Then what do you propose, King Logan?” Virgil sneered. “You cannot believe a truth and a lie at the same time.” Logan nodded, setting his hand down.

“Please take my words with a grain of salt, King Virgil,” Logan said softly, looking the young king in the eye. “Have you ever considered that, maybe, your diplomats and advisors are looking for war?” Virgil’s nostrils flared. “No, please, listen. I am also forced to re-examine my alliance with Ticevas here, this is not just you who is put into a compromising position.”

“Your Majesty, please listen to what you’re saying,” Virgil said after a beat of silence. “You’re accusing my trusted advisors and diplomats of treason. Of lying to the crown. That comes at the penalty of death in my country.” Logan nodded understandingly, breathing in deeply.

“Please, stay a few more days,” Logan offered. “Think about this. Talk with your people and I will talk with mine. The Crown-Prince is due to arrive as soon as tomorrow and perhaps, we can clear things then.” Virgil glanced at his guard – Janus, he’d called the man – who merely stared back. Whatever passed between them solidified Virgil’s decision and he turned back towards Logan.

“So be it.”

Roman and Remus arrived two days later and Logan felt like he was about to collapse. Virgil and him had been going back and forth for days, letters arriving by the sack-full, no doubt several angry diplomats coming after Virgil for even thinking that they could potentially be treasonous to the crown.

Logan himself was dreading such letters coming in from his own advisors, whenever he finally found a way to prune them out, but he pushed that aside. He had to worry about one thing at a time. His advisors could wait.

When the Royal Carriage for Ticevas finally arrived, it was like weights measuring a ton were lifted from Logan’s shoulders. The worry and the anxiety soothed itself and it was like the answer to all his problems rested inside the gilded coach.

“Crown Prince Roman, General Remus.” Logan greeted cordially, a playful smile on his lips. “It is a pleasure to see you so soon after your previous visit.” Logan held out his hand and Remus stepped up, bowing and pressing a kiss to the ring on Logan’s finger. Roman merely smiled, bemused by his brother and best friend.

“King Logan, the pleasure is all mine,” Remus returned, nothing in his voice hiding the utter glee in his eyes.

“My steward will take you to your quarters and then, perhaps, you could join me in my office to discuss a few things before dinner.” Remus’ smile grew, nearly splitting his face in half. Logan’s eyes crinkled in pleasure.

“But of course, Your Majesty, your hospitality is most gracious.” Roman accepted, not-so-subtly bumping his elbow into Remus’ stomach. Remus scrunched his nose and moved to step on Roman’s foot with his heeled boot, but Roman skillfully avoided the maneuver, following Emile who was beckoning the twins to follow him. Remus scoffed under his breath as he moved to follow his brother and Logan had to resist a smile. As Remus passed by, the prince reached out his fingers, the action so subtle, no one but Logan saw it coming. Logan reached his own hand out, under the guise of adjusting his lace cloak, to brush skin against skin. He breathed in deeply and it was like the sun had just peeked through the clouds at the end of a horrid winter.

A few, long minutes later, Remus finally entered Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him. “So,” Remus said playfully, “what matters of business are we to discuss?” Logan laughed and something in his chest loosened. He unclasped the ceremonial lace around his shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground as he strode across the room and wrapped his arms around his lover’s shoulders.

“I’ve missed you, Remus,” Logan said reverently, digging his nose into Remus’ neck. He felt Remus lean against him, wrapping his thick arms around Logan’s lithe frame.

“I’ve missed you too, quill,” Remus said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come alone to see you. It’s been far too long since we’ve just existed, you and I.” Logan sighed, stepping back but not letting go of Remus.

“I know,” the king said apologetically, moving to brush Remus’ bangs from his eyes. “Maybe that will change one day, but I can live with this. At least I get to have you in arms once again.” Remus’ ears went red, but his smile merely grew and he jutted out his chin in pride.

“I’ll go down in history as the one to make the stern Logan of Cygnas crack,” Remus teased, digging his fingers into Logan’s sides, where he knew the king was ticklish. Immediately, Logan tensed, giggling. “Aha! I’ve discovered your weakness.” Logan slapped at his lover’s hands childishly, giggling even when Remus pulled his hands away.

“You menace,” Logan said softly, grabbing Remus’s face between his two hands and pulling him in for a long overdue kiss. “You will be the death of me, I swear it.” Remus smiled and leaned back in for another kiss.

Eventually, they made their way to Logan’s bed, kicking off extraneous pieces of ceremonial garb and their shoes, determined to be as comfortable as possible without making it difficult to leave the room in a rush. “Why do we actually have to do things,” Remus whined, shoving his face into Logan’s chest. Logan chuckled, the sound rumbling more through his diaphragm than an actual noise. He ran his fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of Remus’ neck.

“We’re royalty, Remus,” Logan said humorously, with the tone of someone whose had this conversation with the other prince many times. “If we don’t do things, other things don’t work.” Remus groaned.

“The other things should be able to figure it out on their own,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna leave yet.” Logan pursed his lips, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.

“I know,” he said wistfully, letting his head fall against the headboard. “I don’t want to leave either.” Remus gripped Logan’s waist tightly and Logan lifted his head slightly to look down at the prince. “Is something the matter?” Remus looked up at Logan, a frenzy in his eyes.

“We should run away,” Remus whispered, careful of anyone sitting outside the bedroom doors. “You and me, we could run away and never come back and they’ll think we died a bloody death and all of our problems would be solved.” Logan smiled softly and brought up his hand to brush Remus’ white bangs from his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be a bloody death if there was no blood,” he critiqued good-naturedly. “We’d have to find a decent substitute and leave quite a few red herrings for them to follow. They wouldn’t just see us gone and give up.” Remus stuck out his tongue, blowing a raspberry, and Logan just scrunched his nose.

“You’re no fun,” Remus grumbled, shoving his face into Logan’s stomach. “Always making plans make sense and be rational.” Logan chuckled.

“You certainly thought I was fun when we dissected that deer together,” Logan said. “I was so sure my mother was going to barricade me in my room after she saw the mess we made in the dining room.” Remus scoffed and Logan huffed lightheartedly.

“Your mom just didn’t like that we ruined the wood of the table with all the blood.”

“To be fair, that table had been in the castle for over two centuries.”

“Then it was obviously due for a remodeling. We did her a favor.” Logan let out an uncharacteristic snort and he could feel Remus’ smile pressed against his torso.

“Maybe so,” he said, carding his fingers through his lover’s hair. “I wonder what she would think of me now.”

“You are doing a much better job than she ever did. Not to mention how much better you’re doing than your parent.” Logan sighed, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, I would hope the bar would be higher than my parent, but I suppose as the next monarch, that is exactly where the kingdom’s standards are at.”

They fell quiet, the only sounds filling the room were that of the steady rise and fall of their breathing. The sun gradually set in the sky as they spent hours wrapped up in each other, too afraid to let go as if they would be dragged apart as soon as they did. It had been too long, Logan thought, his head bowed of Remus’ as the prince dozed against him. He didn’t know if he could do this again.

Eventually, Logan moved Remus’ head to the pillow beside him, waking up the prince from his gentle nap. “Where do you think you’re going,” Remus grumbled, shooting out his arm to trap Logan’s hips against the bed. Logan smiled softly, but removed the arm from his body, tucking it gently against the prince.

“Your brother and I need to talk about what’s been going with Xious and King Virgil,” Logan said, swinging his legs slowly over the edge of his bed. “It’s gotten infinitely more complicated than I would have hoped.”

“What’s the way to fix it?” Remus asked, stretching out like a spider across the bed. Logan pushed himself up off the bed, holding his nightstand as a support.

“At this point, I’m not sure,” Logan admitted, shuffling to his dresser. “I need Xious to agree to not fighting if everything doesn’t go their way and I need Ticevas to agree to providing aid. They’re in the midst of a famine and Roman has a short temper so high stakes plus-”

“High stakes plus my dumbass twin does not equal peace,” Remus finished for him and Logan snorted.

“Exactly.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” Remus said. The king draped his ceremonial cloak around his shoulders and paused.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Logan said hesitantly. “I’m hoping that-” he cut himself off, before glancing at Remus. “I’m hoping Virgil will be a little bit like me.” Remus’ eyes widened and he rolled onto his side facing Logan.

“I’ve got to say, beating heart, that’s quite a tall order.” Logan looked away, avoiding Remus’ cutting gaze.

“Well, it’s my only hope that the boy has a minute amount of common sense in his bones.” He chuckled. “It’s either hope for that or pretend that Roman has all the common sense and I somehow doubt that.” Remus gave full-body smile and Logan smiled as he stared down at the floor. “I don’t want to leave, Remus,” he said quietly.

“Come here,” Remus said, his voice holding a sensual lilt. Logan turned his head back up. His lover had a hand stretched out and a wicked smile spread across his face.

“Remus,” Logan said warningly. Remus scoffed.

“Oh please, we won’t get messy unless you really want to,” Remus teased. “I just- you need a distraction and I can give you that.” Logan swallowed nervously, trailing his eyes up and down Remus’ body.

“Can you?” Logan said at last. Remus closed his fist in a “come hither” gesture and Logan couldn’t stop himself from indulging, at least one last time.

Logan woke up that morning with the feeling of someone slamming a hammer into the inside of his temple repeatedly.

Now, there are several things to unpack in this statement. For starters, there is no such thing as a hammer being present inside his skull. It is impossible and Logan wasn’t sure if a hammer so small with such power could even exist.

And although Logan continuously prided himself on not believing in the superstitious, his mother’s upbringing had instilled certain fears in him and his inability to even handle the sound of his skin against his bedsheets did not sit well with him.

Pain in his head such as this was usually only cured by drinking ridiculous amounts of water and resting for hours on end. Logan grabbed the glass of water sitting on his bedside table, drinking it as if his life depended on it, and then slammed it back onto the wood surface as he threw his legs over the side of his bed.

As soon as the cold air hit his knees, he recoiled and tightened his fist in the blankets. Although Cygnas was in its spring prime, thunderstorms still found their way into the season, as if to plague the king himself.

Today would not be a good day.

Dressing was a struggle. He pretended not to see Emile wince as he battled his way into the immense amounts of garb considered necessary at diplomatic conventions. Navigating his room brought tears to his eyes and frequently, he found himself gripping onto the nearest surface and taking heaving breaths as he waited for the pain in his legs to subside enough for him to keep going. He knew he was in for it when Emile presented his crutches and he didn’t even think twice before slipping his arms in and resting his entire weight against the mobility aid.

Logan must have looked as haggard as he felt because every worker of the castle who crossed his path as he dragged himself to the throne room immediately scuttled away, for fear that his temper might cut short with them.

He couldn’t blame them.

Sinking into the plush chair that awaited him in the giant dining room he insisted on eating in each morning was a relief. The ache in his knees lessened as he stretched his legs out, but every so often, a twitch or a jolt of his body would cause the throbbing to pound in time to the hammer in his head.

Emile set the platter of food in front of him and did not even hesitate before patting the king on the shoulder. “I’ve requested that Remus join you this morning and I’ve given the others orders not to disturb you until you call for me.” Logan looked up at his steward with alarm, but Emile just smiled. “I’m a sucker for romance, Your Majesty, and I’ve known for far too long to not notice the signs.”

“I didn’t realize we were so conspicuous,” Logan murmured, leaning against the back of the chair. Emile just shrugged.

“You remind me of my husband and me is all.” Emile pat him again, this time on the head, and let a small chuckle loose when the king blinked rapidly in surprise. “Have a good meal, Logan.”

Emile left the room, skipping slightly, and opened the large doors to run face-to-face with Remus, who smiled so widely at the sight of the steward that even Emile seemed a bit taken aback. Logan hid his smile behind his hand as Remus lunged forward to wrap his arms around Emile’s waist and pick him up, squeezing the shocked steward.

When Remus set him back down, Emile wobbled slightly, though the laughing Logan heard from across the large dining hall soothed his worries that Remus hadn’t been gentle enough with his steward. Emile patted Remus on the cheek gently and the prince beamed as Emile slipped past and shut the door behind him.

Remus’ smile seemed to spread even more at the sight of Logan, however tired and disheveled he looked to the rest of the world. Whereas Emile’s skip outside of the room was small and barely noticeable, the Ticevan seemed to leap into the air as he wiggled his way to Logan’s side. “Hello, my dear,” Logan greeted softly, careful not to jostle his legs as he reached a hand to grasp at Remus.

“Hey, Logie,” Remus said just as quietly, gripping Logan’s hand to his chest and he sunk to one knee so that he could rest his forehead against Logan. “Emmy told me that you weren’t feeling so spic-and-span.” Logan huffed through his nose in amusement.

“Since when are you on such good terms with my steward?” he asked rhetorically and Remus didn’t so much as laugh as jostle his shoulders. “Are you two conspiring against me?”

“And what if we were?” Remus asked. “Maybe it’s my job to seduce you and then Emile’s gonna, I don’t know, take over the kingdom.” Logan chuckled out-loud.

“I’m not sure how seduced I can be in this state, but I have no doubt the kingdom would do well in Emile’s hands.” Remus pouted.

“No, Logie,” he whined, “you’re supposed to be a tyrant, not a reasonable human being.” Logan smiled and shrugged his shoulders lightly.

“My apologies,” he whispered as Remus closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. Logan breathed in deeply through his nose and shuffled closer, reaching his other hand to grip at Remus’ neck. They broke apart and Logan sighed happily, shoving his nose into the strip of bare skin at Remus’ neck.

“You really must be going through it if you’re this cuddly,” Remus mused, releasing Logan’s hand so he could card a free hand through soft hairs the base of the king’s scalp.

“All the evidence points towards today not being a good day.” Remus made a sympathetic noise. Logan pulled back and Remus let him rest against the chair backing.

“Don’t you have that meeting with my brother and the little pip squeak?” Logan snorted.

“I don’t know if the volatile King of Xious would be amenable to being called a pip squeak, but yes, I do. In approximately an hour and a half, I’ll be trying to stop the leaders of two kingdoms from killing each other.”

“Sounds funky fresh.”

“Where do you even come up with these sayings?” Remus shrugged.

“I sneak around here and there. Father is...quite preoccupied with preparations for the coronation so there’s little else he notices, especially regarding my whereabouts.” Logan tried to make eye contact with Remus, but the prince ducked his head. “I’m truly fine with it, I think I just miss...I miss making an impact,” Remus paused before snorting, “good or bad.”

“Trust me,” Logan said, a bit more sentimentally than intended, “you always make an impact.” Remus gave Logan a smile on the teary side.

“You’re biased, Logan, isn’t that against your whole thing about logic and true verdicts?” Logan made an offended noise.

“It’s an objectively true fact,” Logan insisted. “Nearly everyone would agree with me.” Remus just gave a shrug, still seemingly disbelieving of the king’s statements, but he stopped refuting them, so Logan counted it as a win.

Eventually, Remus moved to the chair beside Logan and they made their way through the food platter, obviously stocked with some Ticevan delights that few knew were the prince-general's favorites. Laughing too hard made Logan’s legs ache with the movement and his head continuously throbbed, but the stack of rocks that had built up on his chest seemed to fall over at each joke or hidden barb at his brother that Remus made. The sun slowly rose up in the sky, highlighting the two lovers, whispering and giggling as if they were teenagers all over again.

“It’s been two hours,” Logan remarked at one point, recovering from a bout of laughter that nearly sent him to the floor. Remus shrugged, his trademark rebellious smile playing at his lips.

“And?” Logan gave him a deadpan look.

“I have responsibilities, Remus.” The prince waved a hand in dismissal.

“Responsibilities, shmesponsibilities,” he leaned in closely, shuffling his chair so that he could touch their noses together, “let’s burn this place to the ground.” Logan smiled, his heart full in his chest.

“So long as my library stays intact, there’s no reason why this place doesn’t need a renovation,” Logan teased.” Remus bit his lip, trying not to laugh, and Logan saw him pump his fist in celebration underneath the table. “Of course, I’m joking, dear Remus, I quite like my home.” Remus ceased his excitement to feign disappointment.

“Oh, you’re no fun, Logie,” he moaned, throwing himself back into his chair. Logan merely grinned and raised his cup to his mouth, sipping as Remus thrashed about.

The doors to the dining hall creaked open. It was like a switch had been flipped. While Remus maintained his strewn about position, he pulled his chair away and spun the food platter so that it was sitting directly in front of Logan. The king swept a hand through his hair and gingerly lifted his legs from their spot against an ottoman set underneath the table so that he could sit with his back straight. His hand was clenched around his glass and Logan felt like his heart was in his throat. Remus, though he mastered looking casual in tricky situations, had a nervous air about him that Logan could feel from where he was sitting.

The guest stepped into the room without much fanfare and turned to make sure the door was shut behind them. Their white tunic shone brightly in the morning light. They turned around and the gleaming smile and red curly hair instantly relaxed the entire room.

“You bastard,” Remus groaned, sinking down into his seat. “You fucking bastard.” Roman merely smiled innocently as he approached the table. Even Logan slumped slightly, taking a few deep breaths as he lifted his aching limbs back onto the ottoman to stretch out.

“You caused an immense amount of anxiety, I do agree.” Logan said, trying to take another sip of his glass to calm down.

“Not my fault you guys haven’t gone public yet,” Roman teased as he took the seat next to Remus. Remus groaned theatrically and Logan shook his head.

“We’ve been over this, Roman, there are many reasons why Remus and I cannot be out of the metaphorical closet and-” Roman raised a hand.

“I know, Pocket Protector,” he said, “I was just teasing.” Logan rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to cross his arms in a petulant manner. “Are you ready for the meeting?”

It felt like an avalanche had just toppled over his body, the way Logan felt like he couldn’t breathe. Chills filled with heat raced up and down his back and he let go of his glass to discreetly wipe his hands against his cloth napkin. “I- I suppose that I am, I have all the documents prepared in the primary office.” Remus must’ve noticed how he was fidgeting with the napkin because his brow furrowed and he opened up his mouth. Logan all but threw the napkin back to the table and made quick work of setting his legs back down on the ground, cutting off whatever Remus wanted to say to him.

“Wonderful!” Roman cheered, not noticing the exchange going on between the two lovers, or the immense glare Remus was now sending his way. “I can escort you to the meeting place?”

Logan waved him off. “You go on ahead, Roman, I will have to take my time this morning,” he said as he stood up and slipped his arms into the crutches leaned up against the table. Now it was Roman’s turn to furrow his brow and grow concerned and Logan cursed the day he became friends with the two princes. “I will be fine.”

Remus huffed through his nose, muttering something under his breath that Logan knew to be calling him out as a liar, but he refused to acknowledge it, only bending slightly for Remus to kiss him on the cheek as Roman stood from his seat.

Roman trailed the way, throwing the heavy oak doors open and all but marched down the hallway to Logan’s office, where the meeting would take place. Logan struggled to find his footing, the dull throbbing in his head and knees expanded tenfold as he tried to walk to the door. He felt Remus’ gaze on him, but he refused to turn back, afraid that he would just melt to the ground if he made eye contact. He walked past the threshold of the dining hall and the guards swung the door shut behind him.

Walking to the meeting felt like it took another three hours, though logically, Logan knew it had only been twenty minutes. Walking without his aids would’ve taken another forty at this rate and quite honestly, he was proud of the pace he was making.

What was admittedly awful about said twenty minutes was the amount of time it gave him to think.

Logan enjoyed thinking; it was practically his job to think. Cygnas remained the kingdom with the region’s largest library and it brought him never-ending joy to contribute to that collection. Studying and researching was a favorite pastime and the only thing he enjoyed about hosting events and having guests was the knowledge they would bring him about their homes and countries.

But this felt like something entirely different than the thinking he had come to enjoy and take pleasure in. This felt like a worry after worry compounding into itself, growing bigger and bigger until he felt like a small child in the middle of the eye of a storm.

His office door loomed in front of him and the pressure of thousands upon thousands of souls rested heavy on his shoulders. Memories of his sister and parents swirled around him, ghosts long since dead risen again for the sole sake of reminding him what lay before him should he fail. His vision swam and had he not been resting steady against his aids, he would have surely toppled over from the weight of his ancestors and their collective duty to protect his people placing itself on to him.

He motioned for the guard standing by the door to open it for him. There was no ominous creak as it opened, but Logan’s mind filled in the blanks.

Roman and Virgil sat across from each other in front of the fireplace, an antique tea set sitting between them. As Logan stepped inside, they both rose to their feet to greet him. “Good morning, King Virgil, Crown Prince Roman. I am glad to see you both here.”

Virgil bowed, a symbol of respect in Xious. Logan felt an odd lump developing in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Based on the growing look of offense on Roman’s face, Virgil had not given the crown prince the same honor. Roman simply shook his hand and preformed a rune in the air, with a motion to push it towards Logan, a standard Ticevan greeting of monarchs in a formal setting such as this.

Logan nodded his head towards the seats and motioned for Emile, who he just noticed was standing in the corner of the room, to gather the papers at his desk and bring them to where they were sitting. “Let us begin, shall we?”

Virgil and Roman resumed their original positions, while Logan took up the seat that was not usually there at the head of the coffee table. Emile poured him tea as Logan spread the documents across the table, handing each party a copy of the details they were there to discuss.

“Thank you for hosting this meeting and acting as a mediator, Your Majesty. It is quite the honor,” Roman said, glaring daggers at Virgil over the tops of the papers he was skimming. Virgil nodded in agreement, setting the papers to down to pick up his cup.

“I agree with Ticevas, and that is quite the thing to say, seeing as I don’t agree with Ticevas on much of anything at all.” Roman went red in the face and Logan saw the grip on the papers tighten as Virgil innocently sipped at his tea.

“It is my pleasure,” Logan said. “I simply want the best for my people and I have strong evidence to believe that this meeting will be fruitful for all parties involved.” Roman wrinkled his nose. Logan almost kicked him in the shin.

“I, for one, want this to be resolved. My advisors grow restless with me having been away for so long,” Virgil said. Logan furrowed his brow at the mention of the advisors. He was unsure of how much of the previous conversations between him and Virgil he wanted to bring up with Roman present, but he might ask if Virgil would be willing to discuss more in private.

That is, if everything went well today.

“If it is amenable to the both of you, I would like to begin with the meeting that took place two months ago, as of today.” Virgil went tense and Roman scowled. “It is to my understanding that neither of you were there at that meeting.”

“That is correct,” Roman said. “However, my brother was there and I trust his word.”

“Your Highness, we are not here to discuss the alleged threatening on either side,” Logan cut in. “If I wanted to do that, I would have let your two kingdoms go to war already.” Virgil snickered, hiding his laughter behind another sip of tea when Roman glared at him.

“I am simply stating my matter on the opinion,” the prince harumphed, crossing his arms.

“I was hoping-”

“I don’t think hope will get you much of anywhere,” Virgil snarked, still holding the cup to his mouth. Logan sighed, his headache beginning to spread to the middle of his head.

“Please, let me speak.” Virgil shrugged, but Logan could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“The Ticevan land has been rented out to the kingdom of Xious for centuries. The rates of rent have always remained the same. Why are you asking for the rates to be changed, King Virgil?”

“My kingdom is in famine,” the boy said primly, jutting out his chin. “We need food and Ticevas has plenty to share.”

“Ticevas has been plenty generous with the land we’ve offered to you, we have no obligation to give more.”

“Xious offered for you to have the largest military this side of Capemin at your disposal in exchange for lowering the rates for five years, you cannot look me in the eye and say that we did not give you reason to accept our proposal.” Roman looked taken aback. Logan averted his eyes to the papers on the desk.

“I know Xiousians are a lot of things, but I didn’t know they were liars,” Roman said, almost conversationally. Virgil startled, looking slightly like an agitated feline.

“Your Highness,” Logan said warningly. Roman waved him off.

“No, no, this is bullshit-”

“Roman-”

“There was never such an offer and I am offended at the mere idea that we would even accept such a savage exchange.” Virgil’s eyes seemed to flash red.

“Savage? If I remember correctly, that land was ours in the first place, but you pushed my people out and forced them to run into the mountains where they barely survived-”

“-I resent this accusation-”

“I didn’t mean for you to enjoy being called a murderer, Crown-Prince Roman, that would be pretty savage if you did.”

“Logan, throw him out.” Roman turned suddenly to the older king. Logan looked at him over the top of his glasses, flitting back to Virgil who now had his arms crossed and looked five seconds away from storming out.

“No,” Logan said calmly. He saw Virgil blink in surprise. “I invited you both here for a civil conversation and so far, you are being anything but civil-”

“He started it-”

“-and you’re not even letting me finish my sentences.” Roman’s nostrils flared and his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Is Cygnas not a Ticevan ally?” Logan looked nervously at Virgil, but the younger king avoided his gaze.

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing, Logan, you should be supporting me and tossing this riffraff out with the rest of his kind.”

“Your Highness, I will do no such thing.” Roman paused in his motions, unnervingly still.

“Fine.” Roman stood up. Virgil shrunk back and Logan became viscerally aware that this was not a private conversation between him and a friend about his temperament, but rather a political discussion over whether or not war would break out between their three countries. He had forgotten himself and now everything hung in the balance. “Ticevas officially removes herself from this meeting.”

“Roman, sit down,” Logan demanded, his voice calm even if his hands began to shake. “You don’t want this to go where you’re thinking.”

“Just because you have a soft spot for the boy doesn’t mean I do, Logan,” Roman seethed. “I don’t have to listen to you and I never have. I should have ignored you from day one, Logan. Valerie is dead. Deal with it.” Roman stalked out of the office, his sleek boots hitting the stone ground sounding like the din of a thousand soldiers marching on the city gates as the noise echoed around the room.

“Valerie?” a questioning voice came. Logan’s tunnel vision receeded slightly to accompany Virgil in his periphery. “That is my mother. You were friends- is that why I am here? Because you pity me?”

“No,” Logan ducked his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You- you don’t respect my country or my people, do you?” Logan’s shoulders scrunched forwards, the sheer anger in the child’s voice making even him panicky. It was all falling apart, all the diligent planning, all because he couldn’t handle the pressure of his sacred duty as king.

“If you would let me explain-”

“No! No, I don’t think I will, because you lied to me!” Virgil shouted, his chest heaving. Logan felt his anxiety crawl into his throat, squeezing his vocal folds shut.

“I never lied to you,” the older king croaked. “And none of this is about you being Valerie’s child, I assure you.” Virgil narrowed his eyes at him, any hint of the camaraderie they had developed over the past few days gone.

“You can’t prove that.” Logan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“When you showed up, my steward told me that I had the right not to speak with you, but you know, I know-” Logan cut himself off, trying to stave off panicked tears. “It was either speak to you or let my country burn to the ground, I had heard what Ticevas was warning me over and it wasn’t about manipulation, it was about protecting my people.” Virgil stared at him.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then how do I make you believe me?” Logan exclaimed. “How do I prove what is intangible? That just because Valerie is my sister does not mean that I wanted to control you and your kingdom?” Virgil paused.

“My mother was your sister?” he asked, the quiet room coming to a standstill. Logan’s face crumpled.

“Virgil-”

“My mother was your sister?” Virgil shouted, cutting Logan off. The older king sighed, his hands clenching around his knees.

“Yes, but-”

“If I die, you have a claim to the throne! You could take over!” Virgil said incredulously. Logan’s heartrate went through the roof. “Is there poison in my cup? An assassin laying just outside the room? Were the Ticevan disagreements just a ruse to get me here and kill me in my sleep?!” Logan shook his head.

“No, of course not, that would only harm my people, I want peace, Virgil-”

“No, I will not hear it, Xious will not hear it.” Virgil stalked over to the door, throwing it open. He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Logan. The burning hatred in his eyes made the older king feel faint. “This is war, Cygnas. You will have my kingdom over my dead body and I don’t intend on living this realm anytime soon.”

The door slamming shut behind Logan’s nephew sounded like an arrow from a firing squad hitting its mark, right in the center of his chest.

#logan sanders #remus sanders #ts big bang 2021 #virgil sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #ts logan #ts remus #ts virgil #ts roman #sanders sides fic #tw war #tw internalized ableism #tw arranged marriages #tw bad parenting

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trunksandcapes · 4 years ago

Text

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s CLARK KENT / SUPERMAN, a HERO from DC! HE is 46 years old and looks an awful lot like JOSH DUHAMEL. I hear they are employed as a REPORTER FOR THE DAILY PLANET. Rumor has it they are UNAFFILIATED. I wonder what they’ll find with their new beginning!

An intro??? I know, who am I? Just putting some stuff out there as baseline, timelines and events are decently flexible because this man’s had a lot of comics and I doubt I’ll be able to include everything between Post-Crisis and Rebirth.

Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara-El was sent from his birth planet Krypton moments before the planet became unstable and collapsed. His rocket crash-landed in a field in Smallvile, Kansas on Earth where John and Martha Kent reside to this day.

Naming him Clark, the two raised him as one of their own, being patient as a couple of parents could be with a boy that could suddenly lift the massive hay bales without breaking a sweat. He wasn’t more than 14 before he learned about his true origins.

Clark started “saving” people a few years before that. Martha made him his first “costume” when he was told about his origins and decided to put his powers to use for good, modeling the logo on his chest after the House of El insignia on the ship they had stored in a crumbling shed.

Clark learned to balance his real life and his hero life early on, graduating from Smallville’s high school and moving to New York soon after to see what Big City life was like. Between classes at NYU, he frequently soared through the City in search of anyone in need.

During his internships and eventual hiring at the Daily Planet, Clark met Lois Lane, the subject of many early Damsel in Distress situations he would swoop in for. The two grew close and eventually married, having their son Jonathan soon after.

He’s still living in New York City with Lois under his Secret Identity. When he’s not editing her pages (though, she rarely needs one in his humble opinion), he’s flying around the world, doing what he can to protect and serve those in need. Almost everyone’s heard of Superman, Clark only hopes they think well on his heroic alias.

Possible Connections:

Super Family! You know who you are, and he loves you. Mwah.

Fellow Leaguers! Have you been on the Justice League or one of it’s many spin-offs? You’ve probably met with the Big Blue Boy Scout, even in passing. He’s a little too eager to help starting heroes on their feet, and is more than willing to chat with old friends about their lives in and out of the tights.

Reporters! Journalists! Daily Planet Frequenters! Clark isn’t as persistent as most when it comes to the Scoop (usually because he ends up being the Scoop), but when it comes to the more humanitarian stories, he’s more than willing to sit there with a pad and a pencil. He’ll swap stories about his travels ‘till the cows come home.

Friends! Enemies! Rivals! Brothers in Arms! Whomstever! Superman’s been around for a while, so he’s had some history in the hero scene. Was it a misunderstanding the first time you met? Do you know Clark and Superman as separate identities? Did he save your cat from a tree that one time when you were 10? Does the symbol of the House of El give you hope or inspire some kind of fear?

#//idek what this is but TAKE IT #//I'll probably have to add onto this but fOR NOW #beginagainintro

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myuntoldstory · 4 years ago

Text

Mystic Messenger | Unbridled Passion

AO3 | FF.net

A late Valentine's Day entry. Enjoy!

Rating: T

Pairing: Zen | Ryu Hyun/Main Character (Named)

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 8, 542

Summary: Zen is doing a lipstick ad! But he's doing it with a female model—all fine and good until he discovers who that female model is. What will he do? Will he maintain his professionalism or will he cast all that aside for a short fit of passion?

Unbridled Passion

Zen steps out of the studio with a sigh. Suddenly, his phone rings. Brows furrowing, he takes out his mobile and accepts the call without looking at the screen.

"Hello?"

"I have a job for you."

Tension sets in his shoulders at the voice.

“... CEO-in-line,” he says.

“You do know Elizabeth, yes? C&R’s makeup brand?”

Of course. Han Jumin only launched it last year. Despite its infancy, Elizabeth climbed up the top ten or five lists of any reputable name in any industry. Some say that that spoke of the trustworthiness of the company. In Zen’s opinion, it was a clear example of capitalist nepotism. The speculations surrounding the name were wild. Either Chairman Han named it after his new lover or his son had finally found a soulmate.

Oh, if only they knew…

“Yes,” he answers.

Jumin sighs.

Then, he fires off.

“We are launching a limited-edition collection for Valentine’s Day. The marketing team has made you their first choice to model for the lipstick line. I must emphasise that they’re hoping, avidly, that you are available.”

“Huh…” Zen mumbles in surprise. “Can’t say I’ve modelled for makeup before.”

“Ah… are you uncomfortable with wearing makeup?”

“Dude, seriously?” he snorts.

“Is that not a valid question?”

“No. Did you forget where I work? I wear makeup twenty-four-seven. I wear more makeup than most women in the world. I know it sounds unbelievable because my face is so handsome that it doesn’t need makeup, but—”

“Yes,” Jumin interrupts. “Thank you, I understand.”

Zen purses his lips. “So they want me to wear lipstick?”

“In a way.”

“In a way?”

“Your part in the campaign involves a female model—don’t ask me who. The team is still searching for your perfect partner. According to them, there are not many that can stand equally to your beauty.”

Zen laughs happily at that.

“Well, they’re not wrong.”

The sound that answers him is doubtful.

“I should sign up just for that,” he continues. “When is it, anyway?”

“Around late October.”

“Hmm…”

“Can you do it?"

"Hang on…”

Zen pulls out his planner from his bag. When he flicks to the calendar so many important dates already jump out at him. He has a few things in the pipeline for that month: variety shows, photoshoots, recordings, ad spots, and table reads. It’s not bursting, but it’s full enough. There are still a few days he can do… if Han Jumin is willing to adjust.

“Well…” he drawls, snapping the planner shut. “They did ask for me so it doesn’t feel right for me to reject it. I don’t have a lot of free days, though. Can I send you the details?”

“Send it to Jaehee.”

“Okay,” he says. “Then I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” Jumin says. “We’ll talk. In the meantime, Jaehee will contact you with further information. Once everything’s locked in we’ll also arrange a meeting with you and the team to hash out the details.”

“Okay.”

“If you have any questions or need to discuss any concerns contact us first. We’ll do our best to sort it out. I must stress the importance of resolving any issues early on—this launch runs on a tight schedule.”

Zen nods. “Got it. I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Good.”

There’s shuffling noises on Jumin’s end. Zen senses the call is over.

“Thank you, Han Jumin,” he hurries to say.

“Of course.”

And the line cuts off.

Zen emerges from the bathroom, fresh and fluffy from a good shower and skincare regime. He hears the melodious sound of the piano filling the apartment and smiles. Venturing into the kitchen, he grabs a can of beer, snaps it open, and takes a generous swig. Then, he makes his way to the source of the music. When the melody transitions to the opening phrases of one of his songs, his smile widens.

Picking up the cue, he sings. Eventually, he sees the love of his life sitting before the digital piano. His gaze falls to her fingers, admiring the way they dance over the keys. When she turns to him and beams he just about melts. How beautiful she looks. The mere sight of her makes him feel at home. She comforts him and makes him want to do so many things to show his love for her.

Zen had spent so many years by himself. It was lonely, but he got used to it. Then, out of nowhere, she came in—beautiful, wonderful, kind, courageous, and so full of love. Little by little she carried the weight of his burden with him and made his barren days feel so alive. She took his hand and taught him many things, opening his eyes to the unyielding fact that he was not alone. There was no shame in asking for help, no shame in reaching out.

She taught him what love felt like again.

All kinds of love.

His heart. His Lux.

Zen sits next to her. She doesn't miss a beat and he doesn't falter. A feeling surges up from the base of his spine to the top of his head. It rises like a wave and crashes upon him in instantaneous epiphany. This is one of those important moments. They're creating a memory right now—one they'll remember and reminisce in the future. They might even recreate it from time to time. He smiles at the nostalgia that already fills him. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, twirling his fingers around the ends of her hair. Soon enough the song ends. Zen’s voice fades after Lux lifts her fingers.

“Your voice is so beautiful,” she sighs.

His cheeks warm at her heartfelt compliment.

“Aw, babe…”

“I can’t get enough of it.”

“Well, I can never get enough of your playing,” he quips.

“It’s not annoying?” she teases.

“Babe!” he gasps. “Never! How can you even think that? You make every song sound so beautiful. It’s magical—I feel every emotion so much that it sweeps me away.”

“Aw,” she chuckles.

“Also, your hands are super cute!”

He takes her hand, gently running his thumb across her knuckles.

“I love watching them dance…”

“Zen…”

He places the beer on the small table beside the piano. Then he returns to Lux, taking her by the chin and coaxing her to gaze at him. The deep brown of her eyes reminds him of damp earth after the rain. She’s looking at him in a way that pins him to the bench. His thumb traces the outline of her lips. At her shiver, he leans down and captures her mouth.

His heart pounds in his chest when she kisses back, her slender fingers circling his wrist. The utter softness of her lips never ceases to delight him. Just the feel of them is enough to tempt him, to urge him to sweep the tip of his tongue across the seam of her mouth. It takes him an effort not to push further. Any more and he’ll be unstoppable.

It’s too soon for his liking, but he tapers the kiss off. Zen opens his eyes just as Lux opens hers. Seeing them so dilated doesn’t surprise him; his must be too. Zen licks his lips to catch the last remnants of her, thumb tracing the edges of her mouth again. Gaze drifting down, he finds that they’re pinker and fuller—god, all the more tempting. How desperately he wants to answer their call, to nibble and suck until they swell.

“I really want to kiss you again,” he sighs.

“Then why don’t you?”

The question, whispered, almost unravels him. Groaning, he presses his forehead against hers—a bad idea. Her lips are now closer. Zen bites his own to fight against the urge. It feels like a losing battle, though, because he doesn’t want to stop. With difficulty, he pulls away and compensates himself by kissing her forehead.

“We’re having a good moment right now,” he reasons, combing back wayward strands of hair from her face. “I want to stay like this with you for a bit longer.”

“Okay.”

With a smile, she returns to the piano and plays a cheerful piece. The heady, intimate atmosphere between them dissipates, but it doesn’t encourage distance. As the playful melody fills the air, Zen straddles the bench. He wraps both arms around Lux loosely. Leaning in, he buries his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply to take in the scent of peonies. A feeling of calm washes over him, soothing his electrified nerves. What a blessing she is to indulge him like this.

“Honey, I have something to tell you,” he says.

“What’s up?”

“Han Jumin gave me work.”

“Work?”

“Hmm.”

He kisses her temple before moving on to the shell of her ear. Then, his chaste pecks travel to the back. He nuzzles close for a few seconds because the peony scent is the strongest there. He pushes her hair to one side before continuing on, keeping his mouth closed. For now, he doesn't start anything. He's been bursting with affection for her the whole day that he only wants to shower her with them.

“You know Elizabeth, right?” he continues.

“Hmm? Yeah, of course.”

"... Not the cat."

"Oh," she laughs. "The makeup brand, right?"

"That's the one."

"What about Elizabeth?"

“Well, they’re launching a collection for Valentine’s Day,” Zen explains, hugging her close.

“Ah, okay… and they want you to model for them?”

“That’s it.”

“I see—oh! Right, yeah, Jaehee was talking about this days ago!”

“Was she?”

“But she didn’t mention anything about you modelling.”

“Well, Han Jumin only called me today.”

“Right.”

“I’ll be working with a female model... I don’t know who yet.”

“Makes sense; it is for lipstick.”

Zen resumes kissing her, now paying attention to her jaw. As he goes underneath he feels the fluttering of her pulse on his lips. Upon reaching the side of her neck he takes his time to cover every patch of skin. Then, he begins to concentrate on one spot before suckling—gently so he doesn’t leave a mark. He tightens his arms around her as she melts against him. The desire for Lux always lies in wait deep within Zen. Feeling her shallow breaths ignites that. The kisses he gives her from then on are wet and open-mouthed. Lux sighs shakily, the little whimper at the end sending a jolt throughout his body.

“Will you be wearing lipstick, Zen?” she teases, a little breathless.

“Maybe,” he laughs. “That’s okay, right, babe?”

“What? You wearing lipstick? Of course!”

Lux speaks with such enthusiasm that it takes him a second to realise what he just said. When he does he laughs, squeezing her tightly and smacking a sound kiss on her cheek.

“You cutie,” he says. “I mean working with a woman.”

“Oh, right,” she chuckles.

“What do you think?”

“Well, I love you for your consideration,” she says, leaning into his embrace. “But don’t worry about me, Zen. You’re doing it for work so I understand—it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” he persists. “If you’re uncomfortable…”

“I’m not.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

She stops playing as she faces him, her hands clapping together.

“I can’t wait to see them! I’m sure it’ll be amazing!”

Zen must be dreaming.

It's the day of the shoot and he had just arrived in the studio with Seongjin, his manager. Jumin and Jaehee greeted them at the entrance. After making introductions and small talk with everyone involved, they escort him to the dressing rooms. It's there he sees someone so unexpected that it makes him question reality. At first, he doesn’t recognise her due to the distraction of the shoot. It’s not until their eyes meet that every single detail sparks familiarity in him. He knows that face. Of course, he does. It’s the most beautiful face he’s ever seen in his life.

“Holy shit,” he gasps.

“Zen!” Lux says, waving with a grin.

The sound of her voice triggers something inside him. Instantly, he forgets everything—where he is, who’s around, why he’s here—and marches over to her. Reaching out, he pulls her flush against his chest. This can’t be real… but the warmth permeating through his clothes is no illusion. God, she’s real. He is not dreaming.

The love of his life is here with him.

“Honey!” he whispers, tightening his hold. “Oh my god…”

“Z-Zen…” Lux mumbles shyly. “We’re not alone…”

“I don’t care. This is the best surprise I ever had.”

After one last squeeze, he pulls away, but keeps his hands on her shoulders. His gaze can't help darting to her lips. Already he feels the pull, yet he stops himself from making a move. Now that he knows she's real, reality sets in. He recognises where he is and who's around him—details he needs to keep in mind from now on. As desperate as he is to kiss her, he can’t do it in public… in work of all places.

But… that doesn’t mean he can’t tell her how he feels.

“I am so happy you’re here,” he rambles. “My heart is so full—you came to surprise me, right? How did you get here? Did you come here yourself? You should have called Seongjin, he wouldn’t mind—”

“Wait,” she giggles, “one question at a time—”

“Ever heard of self-restraint, Zen?”

Because of Lux's presence, Jumin's sardonic question barely fazes him. Still, he sighs impatiently at the interruption. Zen gives her a petulant pout, making her laugh. Then, he faces the corporate heir with an unrepentant expression.

"Speak for yourself," he quips. "If your cat dropped by your office I guarantee you'll clear your day and spend it doing whatever you do with her."

Jumin quirks a brow. "There is no way I will ever allow Elizabeth the 3rd to venture outside my apartment unsupervised—"

"Sir," Jaehee interjects.

Jumin stops and sighs. "Anyway, Lux is not here to visit."

The conversation takes a sudden turn that it gives Zen mental whiplash. He furrows his brows.

"What are you saying? Of course, she is."

"She is not."

Zen's hackles rise when Jumin takes Lux by the arm. Every muscle in his body tenses. He wants to push Jumin away from her, but he holds himself back. It's unreasonable to think that Jumin is literally stealing his girlfriend away. He has to content himself with scowling when the corporate heir puts his hands on Lux's shoulders.

"She is the model working with you today," he reveals.

Zen blinks. Then, he glances at Lux who smiles.

"Say that again?" he says, dumbfounded.

"Er... I'll say hello to Jaehee and Seongjin," Lux interjects.

Jumin lets her go with a sigh, leaving her free to do as she pleases.

"The search for your partner reached a boiling point that threatened the collapse of the team. Time was running out and yet they continued to struggle. So, to help, I threw Lux's name in the lot." Jumin crosses his arms. "In the first place, it's misguided to focus on beauty when the concept is passion. They should've focused on compatibility."

Zen stares at Jumin.

“Are you fucking serious?” is all he can manage.

"I wasn't, actually."

What?

“Stop screwing around,” Zen grits, irritation rising.

"I'm not," Jumin says. "I gave them an ultimatum: either they pick someone or I sign someone unknown and undesirable."

Did Han Jumin just call Lux undesirable? Zen scowls at that.

"Hey—"

"Undesirable, am I?"

Lux emerges from behind Jumin, an amused smile on her face.

"As a model, yes," he deadpans, turning to her.

Giggling at the answer, she accepts it with a nod. Then, she returns to Zen's side. The moment she's close enough, he immediately puts his arm around her. Then, he pats her head comfortingly. She looks up at him in askance and he gives her a soft smile.

"Don't listen to him," he says. "I desire you a lot."

"Oh!" she says, cheeks pinking in an instant. "Wow, thank you—"

"Anyway," Jumin interrupts. "It all worked out in the end."

"It didn't, jerk," Zen snaps. "It backfired. They chose her."

"Lux wasn't the first choice," Jumin says. "The one meant to be here today turned out to be... an overzealous fan of yours. She manipulated the system to get on the shortlist. Of course, we decided it would be best to remove her before she removed you to somewhere. Lux was all we had left.”

“I—seriously?”

"Yes. The unsuccessful applicants moved on to other projects... you know how that goes. Lux had no such commitments so... here we are."

Zen's mouth can’t help gaping in shock at that. When he turns to Lux she shrugs, confirming every single word of Han Jumin's crazy explanation. With a sharp sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make sense of all this.

"Are you really upset?" Jumin continues incredulously. "Isn’t this more beneficial for you? You’ll be working with the person you love most—it’s something only couples can dream of.”

“Of course I’m happy!”

The words escape Zen with more volume and force than necessary. It rings across the hallway, echoing at great distances. The people in the studio have most likely heard it too. Every part of him freezes when Jaehee and Seongjin turn to him with surprised faces. Han Jumin's knowing smirk just about makes everything worse. Zen's cheeks heat up and with a defiant noise, he turns his back on them to hide his embarrassment.

"Problem solved, then," Jumin says after a few painful seconds. "Should have signed her on from the start. Anyway, though we are all friends here, do keep in mind that you're here for a purpose—so keep it professional."

At the sound of footsteps, Zen looks over his shoulder to see Jumin leaving them alone. He watches the corporate heir engage Jaehee and Seongjin in conversation. With a snort, he turns to Lux, who gazes at him with an amused expression. The dusting of pink on her cheeks is her only reaction to his declaration earlier. Zen pats her head again.

"He didn't force you?" he says.

"Not at all."

"He didn't push this job on you?"

"No, no..." she says, shaking her head. "He called me this morning and explained everything. He said I'm the only one who can help you with this. I mean... I don't know how because he's right, I'm not model material, but... if it helps you then I'm willing to do whatever."

"Oh, honey," he sighs, cupping her cheek. "You're too good sometimes."

"It's not about being good," she says, holding onto his hand. "I'm here to help you, in whatever way I can."

"Which makes you good... but that's okay; it's one of the things I love about you."

The colouring on her cheeks grows vivid as she chuckles shyly.

"You're going to have to be patient with me, though."

"Patient?"

“Well, yeah, it’s my first time after all.”

Zen's hand slip off her cheek as his eyes widen. Lux beams at him, clueless to what she just implied. Why does that sound so sexy? The words are innocent. It has no double meaning and no sexy undertones. Even when she says it with a shy voice and bright pink cheeks, there is no way she means it like that. It's so alluring, but it shouldn’t be. He should take her words as it is—ignore the heat that spreads from his core to the rest of his body.

"Anyway, I'll be in your care today," Lux continues, taking his hands and squeezing them. "Zen sunbae."

Fuck.

Alarms, bells, and whistles blare in his head. The blush that had just left his face comes back full-force. Now he’s glowing from his forehead all the way down to his collarbones. God, even his ears feel hot; it wouldn't surprise him if it's steaming. His heart pounds, beating against his chest. Blood rushes to his ears... before going to a place inappropriate in their current situation.

Damn it all to hell.

“Zen?” Lux prompts.

Oh, no. Her voice erodes his self-control. Everything within him weakens for her, screaming for her touch and attention. Why aren't they alone right now? Why are they here? If they were at home he would've already shown her his overwhelming desire... in ways that pleasured them both. But they can't and it's killing him. With a defeated groan, he drops the full weight of his head on her shoulder.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” she says, voice softening. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head.

“No?” she exclaims, now rubbing his hands—god, that makes everything worse somehow. “What are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere? What can I do?”

Well, she can do him… but he can’t say that out loud.

"Uhm... when we go home today—ah, no..." he mumbles, sighing in frustration as he rubs his forehead on her shoulder. "Today's no good... you'll be so tired after today. Uhm... tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?"

He nods. "Tomorrow... let me have all of you. Please."

"W-what?"

“I want you so badly right now, but I’m holding back because of work. So today’s going to be hard for me—give me a reward? For being good?” he caresses her fingers before twining them together. “I want to spoil you to the point where you forget everything else except for me.”

“Zen…”

“Can I have that?”

“Uhm…”

“Please?”

“I—”

"Enough flirting; it's time to work."

Zen's lips purse at Jumin's voice. Sighing, he straightens and catches sight of Lux. She has bowed her head so her hair curtained around her face. Sighing guiltily, Zen hides her behind him to give her time to compose herself. Then, he faces Jumin with a defiant look, daring him to comment on the moment Zen shared with Lux just minutes ago. The corporate heir stays silent. They stare at each other, unintimidated. It doesn't take long for more people to file into the hallway, artists and stylists contracted to prepare Zen and Lux for the photoshoot. Han Jumin narrows his eyes at Zen in warning before walking away. Jaehee hurries after him. Seongjin shoots him an expectant look before walking into one of the dressing rooms.

"Are you okay, honey?" Zen asks Lux, turning to her.

"I am."

"Will you be okay?" he pats her head again, glad that she's looking like her normal self. "You haven't done this before... it's okay if you're nervous."

"I am a bit," she admits, "but you're here so I'm at ease."

His heart skips a beat at that.

"I'll help you," he promises. "If you have questions or if you don't understand something let me know. I'll guide you so don't worry too much about anything."

"I'll do my best. I won't let you or anyone down."

Smiling, he ruffles her hair gently. “I know you won’t.”

Click!

“Yes!

Click!

“Just like that!”

Click!

“Beautiful! You’re doing well, Lux!”

Zen watches with a happy smile as Lux strikes all different kinds of poses. At the start, her nerves got the better of her. The way she hesitated and was reluctant to do anything betrayed her shyness. Often, she looked to him for guidance. With encouraging smiles, he gestured at his face and body to show her what to do. That’s not all. Their photographer today, the world-famous Jiyeong, showered her with encouragement and praises. Thanks to that, and the kindness of the staff, Lux's confidence grew. Now, she looks more at ease.

Jumin and Jaehee had left ages ago. Seongjin also departed to attend some meetings, promising to return in a few hours. With no real authority to police and scrutinise him, Zen can’t help feeling wary. It'll be so easy for him to cast off all professionalism and indulge in the novelty of working with Lux. Yet, as he watches her work, he finds the strength to control himself.

It's because he doesn't see it often. This focused and dedicated Lux, who puts in a hundred and ten per cent effort in her work, is inspiring. She’s a sight to behold. Whenever Zen picks her up from her work he sees her co-workers fawning over her. He thought he understood… but he knew nothing. She makes no commentary or demands. Any instruction she receives she follows. Any and all criticism she accepts with dignity. She never lets it deter her from doing her job or partaking in discussions. She’s a true professional. Her easy-going personality is such a positive influence for the staff that they work with more enthusiasm.

Considering the industry he’s in, it’s refreshing to see.

“Okay—next,” Jiyeong says, putting down her camera to instruct Lux. “I need you to lift your chin a little—perfect. Now, twist your body a bit to the right and give me a serious look—not too serious…very good! Stay like that.”

The camera clicks away. As he watches, Zen catches Lux’s eyes dart to him. His smile widens. When it happens a few more times he gestures for her to concentrate. The way the corners of her lips twitch gets his heart fluttering. With one last glance, she gets back on track. If it were up to him he’d want her eyes on nothing and no one else but him. Still, he’s proud of her hard work and dedication. How lucky is he to be with someone like her.

Lux’s solo session lasts for another half hour. Then, Jiyeong calls for a small break for a set change, touch-ups, and to check on the photos. Zen watches Lux's makeup artist reapply the lipstick on her. It's the signature of the collection, aptly called Passion. That warm and vivid red colour contrasts with her skin. To match is a red lace sleeveless dress that gives a see-through illusion. It's both classy and sexy, both of which makes Lux irresistible. As he keeps his eyes on her the word sunbae, wrapped in her sweet voice, starts to echo in his head again. Ah, it would be so nice to see her like this at home… where he’s free to peel that dress off her as slowly as he wants to.

Unfortunately, all he can do is content himself with seeing her in it today.

The next hour is a true test of his patience. This next session is the main objective. Zen and Lux follow Jiyeong's instructions for the poses and everything else. Soon, he finds himself holding her in different ways. It's well and good at first—he's even proud of his restraint. Yet, gradually, the poses become more intimate. That familiar feeling of frustration crawls up his spine as he enacts them all with a straight face—well, the face Jiyeong tells him to make. The damn word continues to echo in his mind, now taking on a taunting characteristic. Thoughts of kissing her and holding her pervade his mind, refusing to leave. Reminders of Lux's efforts are the only things that help him hold onto that sliver of calm and control. He’s a professional, damn it. He can’t disrespect her like this.

Still.

This might be the most difficult job he's ever done in his life. To be so close to the woman he loves and yet not allowed to do anything about it. It destroys him. It's maddening, a perverted kind of torture designed only for him.

The last pose involves Zen holding Lux against the wall, face half-buried in her neck. The instruction is to look passionate and lustful. Both he can do... but he hopes he's not showing more than that. He's suffering deep inside; hurting to the point that he almost feels it in his body. The scent of peonies intoxicates him. This is the most intimate pose they've done today. He's so close to her skin that with a simple nudge his lips could be pressing against it... doing things that would produce the sweetest sounds from her.

But he can’t.

But he can't. That has been his goddamn mantra the whole day and it's getting old.

When will this day finish?

Zen returns to the dressing rooms after a quick break. When he finds his room empty he figures everyone must have taken breaks too. He decides to pay Lux a visit. He skips out and goes to the door right next to his. Upon finding it ajar, he peeks in. The sight of her immediately makes him smile. She stands by the vanity table, perusing her phone. From his angle, he can't see her whole reflection in the mirror—only her eyes. What an alluring sight. It seduces him, bringing the desire he's been keeping at bay to a calm simmer in the pit of his stomach.

Zen stands there for so long that, eventually, Lux looks up from her phone. Now he sees her completely. A jolt runs through his body when their eyes meet in the mirror. She smiles at him, the beauty of it so overwhelming it takes his breath away.

"Hey, sunbae," she says, playful.

Ah, shit. Not that word again. Something within him snaps, as though his resolve is suddenly made of twigs. The craving he's been holding back rushes in like a tidal wave, eroding his self-control like sand. He steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. He strides towards her with purpose, wrapping his arms around her waist when he's close enough. He pulls her flush against his body, delighting in her gasp.

"Zen!" she exclaims in a whisper.

He doesn't say a word, unable to help himself from kissing the back of her neck. He doesn't bother being chaste—keeping his mouth open and tongue peeking out so he can get a taste of her. He looks at her reflection from underneath his lashes... and almost falls apart at her enamoured look. The flush on her cheeks tempts him to make a mess of her.

“Where’s everyone?” he says against her skin.

“Uhm… on a break,” she says, a little breathless.

"So we’ll be alone for a while."

“Y-yes…”

“Good.”

Zen turns her to face him. God, she is so heart-wrenchingly cute right now. Still, he doesn't miss a beat, taking her by the waist and lifting her to sit on the vanity. He settles between her parted knees, hands planted on either side of her hips for balance. Her hands are warm through his shirt and he wishes to feel them on his skin. As if she read his mind, she brings her hands up to caress his neck. He shivers as she pulls him close, so close their breaths mingle. Unable to wait anymore, he leans down to kiss her—yet, at the last minute he stops, a hairsbreadth away from her mouth. The product they're modelling for is right there, glistening on her lips. It's sexy and seductive and right for her... he wants to kiss it off...

But he can't.

“Zen?”

He looks into her eyes and sees the confusion in them. He’s done everything with purpose up until now… all this hesitation makes him look a bit foolish. He wants to kiss her; he's so desperate for her it hurts... but not on the lips. So where? Just then Lux shifts and his eyes fall to her throat. Inspiration strikes. Ducking his head, he presses a wet kiss over her pulse point. It barely calms him. Her surprised gasp goads him into licking a thin line from the dip of her collar to the top of her neck. Then, he covers every inch of her delicate skin with kisses. Her restrained whimpers brings a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

"You didn't answer me earlier," he says in a low voice.

A quiet moan escapes her when he skims the edge of his teeth over her throat. Her neck is so sensitive—definitely the easiest way to get the most arousing sounds from her. He continues his affections, mindful not to disturb anything about her appearance.

"A-answer what?" she murmurs.

"About my reward."

"Your... reward...?"

It's a little magical, seeing her neck redden before his eyes. Zen follows the path the heat takes, enjoying the way her hands fist around his shirt. The urge to touch her too overwhelms him and he brings his hands to her knees. He inches them up past the hem of the dress, pressing his fingers into the softness of her thighs. It won't be wise to wrap her legs around him—that sort of thing will only lead to trouble. As it is he's already toeing beyond the line... but damn does he want to.

"Will you let me have you tomorrow?"

At that, she leans away. "You said it's for being good."

Smiling seductively, he leans close again to rub their noses together.

"Aren't I being good?"

"Well, not right now!"

He laughs.

"Well, I was going to…" he says, “but you called me sunbae! I’ve never heard anything so sexy… and even worse, they put you in this dress and, ugh, you’re so, so, so sexy, honey. I just want you all to myself!”

She raises a sceptical brow. "It's sexy when I call you sun—"

With a panicked yelp, he hovers his fingers over her lips. Understanding the gesture, Lux closes her mouth with wide, surprised eyes. Zen shakes his head at her. Already his heart pounds in anticipation. His core heats up in excitement at hearing her call him that again... but he can't hear it. Not unless he's willing to abandon all common sense.

“If I hear it again I won't be able to control myself,” he warns.

She nods. “Okay.”

"It's a good thing you haven't been calling me that the whole day." Sighing, he presses their foreheads together. "If you did then I would've gotten us both in trouble."

"Well, that's a relief, isn't it?"

With a chuckle, her arms wind around his neck. Zen catches her intent and as she reaches up to kiss him he leans away with a hesitant whimper. A sheepish look crosses over his face when she leans away slightly, frowning in confusion. Neither of them speaks, communicating in some silent conversation. Lux quirks a brow and reaches up again and once more Zen dodges her. With a huff, Lux settles back down.

"Don't get me wrong," Zen blurts when her lips pucker in the most sinful of pouts. Both pleasure and pain squeeze his heart in its vice-like grip. She is killing him. "It's not that I don't want—I want to, okay? I want to kiss you. I'm so desperate it's making me hurt—"

“Then why don’t you?”

A weird sense of déjà vu overcomes Zen. He shakes his head.

“Your lipstick,” he explains. “I can’t ruin it.”

“Oh…”

A look of realisation replaces her pout... and then after that, amusement.

"But I can kiss you, right?"

"I—wait, what?"

Suddenly, she cups his face in her hands. The smile she gives him makes his stomach flip. Within those deep brown depths of her eyes is a mischievous sparkle that looks a whole lot like trouble. Zen loves it... but he is also wary of it at the same time. He gazes at her, unsure of what's happening as his body prickles with nervous excitement.

“Don’t move,” she commands.

God, she can demand him to hug a cat and he’ll do it.

"Uh... okay, as my princess commands," he says, bringing his hands to her waist to steady himself.

She leans forward and he tenses when she presses her lips against his. Only for a second. When she pulls back he chases after her, but she takes him by surprise by kissing one corner of his lips. For the next few seconds, she gives him these quick kisses, roaming all over his jaw and neck. It's driving him mad, these teasing pecks. It's making a mess of him inside, pushing him towards his breaking point. A shiver runs down his spine when she undoes a button on his shirt so she can reach his collarbones. When he felt the warm tip of her tongue against his skin a growl escapes him.

He can’t take this anymore.

Taking control, he cups her jaw, pressing firmly to open her mouth. Then, without preamble, he kisses her. Without a doubt he has cast away any common sense... but the feel of her lips… soft, pliable, warm. After holding off for so long kissing them is like getting that first gulp of air after almost drowning. It relieves him, but... it also makes him want more. With her mouth open, he wastes no time tasting her, relishing in the same, desperate way she tangles with him.

He wants to spend the rest of the day kissing her like this...

But...

All too soon for his liking, he tapers the kiss off. He hears her disappointed whine and to compensate, he strokes her jaw. He sighs once they have parted, keeping his eyes closed in fear of what he'll see. But he does open them eventually... and to his pleasant surprise, it's not as bad as he feared—a little smudged, but nothing they can't fix. Their eyes meet and his breath hitches when she turns her head a bit to kiss his thumb.

“Lux!"

The familiar voice is like a douse of cold water. He meets Lux's panicked look and immediately helps her down the vanity. In the next second the door bursts open. Zen turns around in time to see Seongjin at the doorway. He steps in front of Lux to give her more time. It doesn't escape his notice that Seongjin's staring at them with wide eyes. He's probably surprised to see Zen in Lux's dressing room. Zen grins at his manager to ease the tension, clearing his throat against the hard throb of his pulse in his neck.

With a deep sigh, Seongjin purses his lips.

"You two..." he says, unimpressed.

"What?"

Seongjin crosses his arms. "Did you look at the mirror?"

"What do you mean—"

"Lux! Let's continue with—oh my god, what happened to your face!?"

The outraged exclamation comes from Lux's makeup artist, who emerges behind Seongjin. Zen turns to Lux as she emerges from behind him and... shit. Though not a hair on her looks out of place, the solid smear of lipstick on the corner of her lips is unmissable. How did that happen? He had only smudged it when he kissed her. Lux gazes at her makeup artist in confusion and when she looks at him he gestures at the mirror. He almost cringes at her gasp when she sees what's happened. She turns back to the makeup artist, eyes wide and panicked.

"Uhm..."

“Ms Lux? Are you ready?”

To complete the ensemble, Jiyeong pops in. Zen tenses when she catches sight of them, one brow rising high at the state of their appearance. Then, she tilts her head. Absolute mortification overwhelms him when an unmistakeable knowing smile stretches her lips. He shields Lux again as the photographer approaches them, her smile growing wider.

"Taking the concept to heart, eh?" she says with a teasing tone.

Zen winces. "Well..."

"But this look... it's interesting," she muses, waving his hesitation away. "I'm getting inspired... I can do something with this—I'd like some solo shots of you, Zen. Will that be all right?"

"Huh?" Zen blurts, blinking at this unexpected turn. "Oh... uhm, yes, sure—whatever you think is best."

"But they look like a mess," the makeup artist interrupts.

"Not really," Jiyeong shrugs, turning from the couple. "Anyway, this is a good fit for the concept—definitely better than the pristine look they had before. Now, come on, let's finish up so we can go home."

She walks off, leaving the four of them in the room looking a little dumbfounded. Seongjin shakes his head at Zen, gesturing for him to get out of the room. The makeup artist walks further into the room with a sigh, but her ire seems to have fizzled. Accepting the disapproving look from the makeup artist, Zen catches Lux's eyes. He winces in apology, which she accepts with a shrug and a smile. He goes to leave, but before that he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes widen, seeing the vivid red lipstick marks around his lips, throat, and neck. Then he catches sight of something else. Lifting his hand, he sees a smudge of Passion on his thumb.

Well, that explains that.

It's Valentine's Day.

Zen stands by the bar, observing the hall as he waits for the drinks. To celebrate a successful launch and for selling out before the target date, C&R throws a party for everyone involved in the project. There is a palpable cheerful atmosphere in the air. Zen smiles at the attendees laughing and talking animatedly with each other. Everyone worked hard for this project, after all. It's always a good thing, to celebrate the positive outcome of a job well done.

Up on the wide monitors around the hall are the final products, the evidence of all that hard work. A slideshow presents images of the collection as well as the ads, one after another.

As Zen's wait continues, he catches photos of Lux. He can't help smiling at his love’s beguiling expressions, showing off the warm vivid red of the lipstick. Then, a jolt electrifies his nerves when he sees his own photos. They're the ones Jiyeong took after that moment he had with Lux. The lipstick marks are so red it’s almost embarrassing to see it on him. Still, it’s tasteful. This is one he will put on the front page of his portfolio. Jiyeong is undoubtedly a master at her craft. She made him look more beautiful than he already is.

When the drinks arrive he takes them to their table. Lux is exactly where he left her, perusing her phone in her wait. One different thing is a white nondescript box, held together by a bright red ribbon. As he comes closer she looks up, meeting his eyes and beaming in a way that makes his heart flutter. He places the drinks on the table before settling beside her.

"What's this?" he says, gesturing at the box.

"Jumin dropped by and gave me a gift," she says, smile widening. "For Valentine's."

He freezes at that. "He... what?"

"I guess he likes me..." she muses before giggling. “That’s fine, right?"

"Honey," he whines, pouting. "That's not funny."

She laughs. "All right, all right. It is a gift, but it's not for Valentine's."

"What is it for?"

"For a job well done."

At that moment the slide shows the one photo Jumin said brought them almost all the sales. Lux was against the wall. Zen had one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pressing her flush against him. The angle of the shot made most of the lipstick marks on him visible. Hazy and lustful can best describe his expression as he gazed at Lux—as if he wanted her to kiss him again, and again. Well, that probably wasn't far off. With his other hand, he held her chin, tilting her head towards him. Resting just at the edge of the lipstick smear was his thumb, as though passion had caused such a thing. Lux wasn't looking at him; instead, she turned those seductive eyes at the camera.

"I'm still embarrassed," Lux says when the photo fades away and another takes its place. "They literally used the photos we did after we—"

“Got taken over by our passions and made out?”

He whispers the words in her ear, enjoying the way she jumps.

“Zen!” she scolds, giggling with bright pink cheeks.

“Well, it doesn't even qualify—I only kissed you once.”

“I kissed you plenty, though.”

He grins at her smug tone of voice. “Exactly. So...really, what happened was that you preyed on me.”

Lux laughs, but says nothing to deny his playful accusation. Oh, how he wants to kiss her right now. The good thing about their current situation is that he doesn't have to worry about anything. They can go to a quieter place and spend time together without consequence. He finishes his drink and waits for Lux to finish hers before holding her hand.

“Let’s go out the balcony,” he says.

Her eyes light up and she nods. “Okay.”

The area is empty when they step out. Lux goes straight to the railing, leaving Zen to walk after her. The location of the party is in a high-rise building, showing off a glittering view of Seoul at night. But that’s not what occupies his mind right now. The woman before him does, with her hair blowing in the breeze. Placing her box on the chair, he reaches inside his jacket pocket to bring out the gift he has for her on this special day.

“Zen! Come look at the—"

He stands in ready as she turns to him. The joyful smile on her face freezes in surprise. Then, her gaze drops to the white leather box in his hand. When she looks at him again he grins, opening the lid to reveal a necklace. Lux gasps, now looking a little alarmed.

"W-what's this for?" she says, breathless.

"A Valentine's Day gift for you," he answers with a chuckle.

"But..."

She approaches him, hand outstretched. When her fingertips touched the necklace her shoulders sagged. A mixture of happiness and acceptance crosses her face. Zen is only happy to watch her reaction. He picks up the necklace. After setting the box aside, he moves behind her to put it on. He makes sure to brush his fingers over her skin as much as possible as he joins the clasp. He’s rather proud of his choice: intertwined silver vines adorned with red roses, held by a fine silver chain. The crystals glitter from the lights of the city. When he finally clasps it, he caresses the nape of her neck.

“And to celebrate your first ever photo shoot," he continues.

She faces him, touching the necklace with glimmering eyes.

“Zen,” she says, “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Babe, you know by now I only do whatever I want to.”

“Don’t I know it,” she chuckles.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he nuzzles her cheek. He smiles when she wounds her arms around him and holds him close. Every minute he holds her his heart swells with love and affection. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t shattered in a million pieces by now. Maybe it's because of how tightly she holds him; she's keeping him together.

"Why this necklace?" she says, pulling away to look at him.

Smile widening, he touches the necklace with his fingertips.

"Well... red for my eyes," he says with a wink. "But also red roses for love and passion. I guess it's a bit silly... but I want to do whatever I can to show my love for you."

"Oh, Zen..."

"So when you wear this think of me, okay?"

"Of course!" she hugs him again. "It's not silly... when I wear this necklace you're all I will ever think of. Thank you so much, Zen... I love you so much."

"I love you too," he chuckles, stroking her back.

Inside the hall the party goes on, oblivious to the loved up couple standing entwined on the balcony. All his life Zen wondered what his happiness would be like. He was grateful for the people in his life and he was happy with his career. There was nothing, good or bad, that he'd give up for the sake of something better. But during the nights he ventured up the rooftop garden, when he looked at the stars, he wondered what would complete it... what would it take for this feeling of contentment to become happiness.

This is it, he concludes. The answer to his question is right here in his arms. Standing on a balcony, quietly embracing the love of his life... that's all it takes for him. With this he feels complete... happy. Life will go on and some days it won't be easy, but... with Lux beside him he can go through anything.

He hopes he is the same for her. That he completes her too.

"Uhm..." Lux says after what seems like a long while. "I actually have something for you too."

“Oh?”

She steps away and Zen watches as she approaches the chair to take the box. Upon her return he raises his brows in question, blinking when she holds it out to him. This is the very same she said Han Jumin gave her as a gift. Is it meant for him? He takes it, taking Lux's encouraging nod as permission to open it. He undoes the ribbon, giving it to her before lifting the lid. What he sees makes his brows furrow.

It's... lace. A red, lacy... thing. Is this really for him? It's more like something for Lux—oh. Recognition lights Zen's features. Memories of the photoshoot assail him. He'll never forget the distinct image of Lux wearing this delectable red lace dress. It has been a fantasy of his ever since, taking it off her in the privacy of their home.

"I remember you passionately telling me how much you loved me in this dress," Lux teases with a giggle. "So I asked Jumin if I can have it. I told him I was willing to pay, but he's kind enough to give it as a gift because I helped out in the photoshoot."

Zen shakes his head in disbelief. "Babe, you didn't have to do this..."

"I also do what I want."

"Don't I know it," he says with a wink.

She giggles. "And... I have an ulterior motive."

"Wow, babe, you're so naughty!"

Zen embraces her, pulling her close to him. This time he presses his face to her neck. He peppers light kisses on her skin, delighting in her gasp. This playfulness excites him. He hopes they never lose this. In the years to come he wishes for this part of them to remain the same—enjoying this spark, sharing in this love and desire they have for each other.

"What do you want?" he says in her ear, voice soft.

"My reward."

A shiver ripples all over his body at her answer.

"And what reward does my princess desire?"

"All of you."

At that, he gives a throaty laugh. He remembers the desperation behind his words. It was such a greedy request, wanting to possess her like that. Still, Lux indulged him. The day after the photoshoot was glorious as she pampered and spoiled him to the point where she was all he thought of. It was funny because that was what he intended with her.

“I’m already yours.”

With that, he kisses her gently, anticipation welling up within him at the thought of pleasing her. For her, he's willing to do anything. Be anything. For her love, he'll give her his everything—his life, his heart, his body and his soul.

From the day he met her until his last breath... he will always belong to her.

#mystic messenger #hyun ryu #mysme zen #mysme hyun ryu #mystic messenger zen #fanfic #fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfic #fanfiction: mystic messenger #mysmefanfic: oneshot #mysmefanfic: babe #mysmefanfic: zen #mysmefanfic: mc

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fridayfirefly · 5 years ago

Text

Lost and Found [Part Seven]

Masterlist | Ao3

People always assumed that Adrien had a soulmate. After all, he was the sunshine child, the light of his parents' lives. He brightened up every room he walked into. His Mother always told him that one day he would get a soulmate of his own. He was still young, and age gaps in soulmate pairs didn't necessarily mean anything nefarious. But as he got older and older, his Mother's words felt more and more worthless. And then his Mother left. Without his soulmate, his Father grew cold and distant and no longer seemed to see Adrien as anything other than one of his models.

Adrien's sunshine faded. He didn't have a Soulmate. He didn't need a Soulmate. He didn't want a Soulmate.

To the media, his parents were a love story. But Adrien knew better. He remembered the day his Mother disappeared. He was eleven and his parents were screaming in the foyer after a dinner party. Mother yelled that she was taking the keys and leaving, and Adrien felt guilty that he was relieved that she wasn't taking him with her. She was a reckless driver when she was mad. The next morning, Mother wouldn't pick up the phone. Father called and left a message, saying every swear word ever invented in the process. But Mother never called back. The morning after Father called the police. It took them three weeks to find Mother's car. 100 miles south of Paris, abandoned on the side of the road, hidden by trees. A week later, his Father was already planning the funeral.

Adrien begged his Father to keep searching. But his Father refused. He put the household on lockdown, claiming that someone had murdered Emilie Agreste, someone who was targeting the Agreste family. He fired his personal assistant, a young woman named Hannah. Adrien adored her, because she treated Adrien like family, rather than like a job. Taking Hannah's place was Nathalie Sancoeur. She handled Adrien like he was a disobedient puppy, who needed to be trained to follow rules. She was an icy dagger to Adrien's heart, a reminder that all of the warmth in his life was gone.

It took months before Adrien finally started to fight back. With only one ally at his side, the only friend his Father had ever let him make, Adrien turned to Chloé Bourgeoise for help. Together they created a plan. It consisted of one major step. Adrien would be going to public school for now on.

The logistics were a little more difficult to figure out, but Chloé had never backed down from a challenge before. Registering Adrien for school without parental consent was difficult, but Collège Françoise Dupont was well known for the incompetence of their administration. It only took Chloé ten minutes and two threats of Mayoral intervention to convince the principal of Françoise Dupont to enroll Adrien, placing him into the same classes as Chloé. With all the pieces in place, the only thing Adrien had left to do was show up to school. Unfortunately, that turned out to be the hardest part.

The night before his first day, Chloé called Adrien to video chat. She made him promise that no matter what his Father did or said, he would try his hardest to come to school. Adrien made the promise. It would turn out to be a mistake.

Getting to school ended up being too difficult a challenge. Nathalie stopped him on the stairs leading up to the doors of the school, mere feet from freedom. "Adrien, I would advise you to reconsider. Your Father has made up his mind on this."

"But..." Adrien began a rebuttal, but it faded when he caught sight of an older man with a cane struggling to get to his feet. "One moment," said Adrien as he rushed to the man's side and helped him up.

"Thank you, young man," said the man, who began to walk off in the other direction.

Adrien returned to Nathalie, who stared him down impassively. "Continue."

"I just want to go to school like everybody else. What's so wrong with that?"

"Get in the car." Nathalie's order was not a suggestion. As Adrien looked into her cold eyes he knew that there would be hell to pay if he disobeyed her. His Father's short temper combined with Nathalie's apathy would lead to nothing but pain. Adrien had already lost so much. He didn't want to lose the little he had left.

"Please don't tell my Father about all this," begged Adrien.

Nathalie sighed noncommittally as she held the car door open for him. Tears pricked the corners of Adrien's eyes. It seemed like everything in his life went wrong.

Adrien had always been eager to please. He would always be willing to do anything for the people he cared about. But in his efforts to please his Father, he hurt Chloé, and for one fleeting moment, Adrien couldn't remember what it was that was keeping him tied down to Earth. Why didn't he just leave, follow in his Mother's footsteps and abandon the world he knew. It would be so easy to hop on a bus, to find some middle-of-nowhere town and disappear, to become someone else. Adrien had always hated modeling. He never wanted to be treated like a spectacle. Yet all those thoughts were brushed aside in the time it took Adrien to blink. He couldn't just leave. Not when he had Chloé waiting for him.

"You are not going to school," Adrien's Father snapped as soon as Adrien stepped through the door. "I've already told you this once before."

"But Father-" Adrien protested.

"Everything you need is right here, where I can keep an eye on you. I will not have you outside in that dangerous world."

"It's not dangerous. I'm always stuck inside, all by myself. Why can't I go to school with Chloé?"

"Chloé Bourgeoise has proven herself to be a terrible influence on you. I will not have you meeting with her any longer."

"But Father-" Adrien cringed back, tears pricking his eyes.

"You are my son, and you will follow my rules as such. Nathalie, continue Adrien's lessons." His Father stormed out of the entryway, and Adrien left to go to his room.

"Adrien, your lessons await."

"I'll be back downstairs in a couple minutes," Adrien mumbled as he all but sprinted up to his room. Slamming his door behind him, Adrien collapsed onto his bed with a groan. He had texted Chloé in the car, letting her know that he wouldn't be able to come to school after all. She was distraught, but at his Father, rather than at him. He couldn't even imagine how upset she would be when she learned that she wouldn't be allowed to come over to his house anymore.

Adrien: Chloé, I'm really sorry. My Father doesn't want you coming over to my house anymore. He thinks you're a bad influence on me. I don't think I'll be able to change his mind.

The tears started to fall immediately after Adrien sent the text. What his Father was doing wasn't fair, but Adrien didn't know how to fix the mess his Mother had left behind. As he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he started to feel the ground shake beneath him.

The next half-hour passed by in a whirlwind. His life was changed irrevocably. Chloé was akumatized, turned into a monster whose only goal was to liberate Adrien from his Father's clutches. Adrien found a magic ring that gave him the thing he wanted most in the world - freedom. Along with the ring came Plagg, the world's most gluttonous God of Destruction.

"Now you can't tell anyone that you're Chat Noir. The Miraculous of Destruction is too powerful to fall into the wrong hands."

"Okay," Adrien agreed.

"All you have to do to transform is say 'Claws out!'" explained Plagg.

"Got it. Plagg, claws out!" The ring glowed green as Adrien began to transform. The transformation was nothing short of miraculous. It took only a few moments, but it felt almost devoid of time. Afterward, he felt completely changed. His human senses had been amplified, and the whole world felt different. Adrien glanced in his mirror and gasped. "What in the world?" He was now clad in a black leather bodysuit, with a black mask covering his face. His ordinary human eyes had been transformed into those of a cat. "This is so weird."

Another rumble of the ground underneath his distracted Adrien from his awe. "Oh, right. I have to go save Paris." He opened a window and without even glancing behind him, Adrien left the confines of his home behind. "Liberté, here I come."

——————————————————————

Adrien liked working with Ladybug. Despite Plagg's very limited explanation of Adrien's new powers and Ladybug's tendency to trip over her own feet when she got nervous, the duo freed Chloé from the akuma in record time. It broke Adrien's heart, seeing Chloé sprawled out on the ground, looking dazed and confused. His best friend had her life ripped apart, and it was his fault. All because Adrien didn't make it to school. All because Adrien wasn't able to disobey his Father.

"What's going on? What am I doing here?" Chloé asked.

Before Adrien could answer her questions, his ring began to beep.

"We both need to get going. Our identities must remain a secret." Ladybug advised.

Adrien glanced over at Chloé, who was picking herself up off the ground, brushing grass stains off of her white pants. "I suppose you're right. I'll see you again soon, Ladybug." Adrien dashed away, his newfound abilities as Chat Noir allowing his to vault out of the stadium in three jumps.

He returned home, exhausted, and collapsed onto his bed. The transformation ran out before he could remember how to detransform manually.

"I demand camembert." Plagg flew around his room, throwing a tantrum the instant the transformation ran out.

"I'll go down to the kitchens." As Adrien walked down the stairs, he glanced over at the picture of his Mother. She looked so calm and reserved in the portrait, nothing like Adrien remembered. Emilie Agreste was a whirlwind. She lived every day like it was her last. She was the most impulsive person Adrien had ever met. Once, she dragged Adrien out of bed at five in the morning so that they could drive to Belgium to have authentic Belgian waffles for breakfast. Father was furious, but Mother didn't care. She promised Father over the phone that she would never do it again, with a smirk on her face that told Adrien everything he needed to know about his Mother's promises.

Adrien stared at his Mother's portrait, and made up his mind. Come hell or high water, he would be going to school tomorrow.

With a wheel of camembert cheese in hand, Adrien came back into his room ready Plagg to descend on him.

"Cheese!" Plagg cheered as he dove at Adrien.

Adrien pulled the cheese away from Plagg. "Not yet. You don't get cheese until you answer some of my questions."

"Fine," Plagg groaned. "One question, then I get the cheese."

Adrien already had a question in mind. "Did you only choose me because I don't have a Soulmate. That way I don't have any distraction, and I can't lose the miraculous."

Plagg's rolled his eyes. "You humans are so self-centered. You can't lose your miraculous because you don't own your miraculous. I'm just letting you borrow it for your silly hero duties."

"Then why did you choose me?"

"Because you have a good heart, kid. Because you know the difference between right and wrong. Because you're willing to go the extra mile in order to make things right in the world. There isn't any reason in particular, except that you're the best person for the job."

"Thanks, Plagg."

"Now give me my camembert before I take it from you by force."

——————————————————————

Adrien snuck out of the house that morning, having already resolved that he would be there for Chloé, no matter what. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it to his classroom before Chloé transformed back into Liberté. Adrien heard the screams as he walked down the hallway and broke out into a run towards the nearest empty classroom. "Plagg, claws out!"

Chat Noir and Ladybug had a much tougher time defeating Liberté the second time around. It took two exhausting hours before Ladybug resorted to using her lucky charm, which gave her a one hundred pound weight. "What do I do with this?" Ladybug asked, but Adrien could already see the wheels turning in her head. She quickly explained to him the plan: pulley the weight onto Liberté's scale in order to launch the book off, then destroy the book with Chat's cataclysm. Adrien was glad that he would be able to put his cataclysm to good use, especially after his mishap the day prior when he accidentally used it before the battle even started.

In only a few moments, the battle was won. Adrien held Chloé's book, the copy of Pride and Prejudice that her Soulmate gave to her. As Chloé's best friend, Adrien was the one person who Chloé had told everything about her Soulmate to. Adrien knew that Chloé was asexual. He knew that when she was twelve-years-old she gained a Soulmate who was already well into adulthood. He knew about the cigarettes and bullets and condoms she found in the beginning. He helped Chloé write her first note to her Soulmate. He was there when she got the book in return, an apology gift from her Soulmate.

Adrien walked up to Chloé, offering her a hand to pull her back up onto her feet.

"Thank you," said Chloé, staring at Adrien with realization in her eyes.

Adrien tried to keep his facial expression blank, though internally he was panicking. How could Chloé already have figured out that he was Chat Noir? "You're welcome, uh, Mademoiselle. And here is your book."

"Thanks." Chloé stared down at the tattered cover of the book like it held the secrets to the universe.

"I'm going to head home Ladybug, before I detransform," said Chat. In reality, he wanted to get away from Chloé before she decided to confront him right then and there.

"Goodbye!" Ladybug smiled at him, and in another world, Adrien would have fallen in love with her. But after everything he had been though, Adrien didn't particularly want to fall in love. He didn't want a story-book romance. He didn't want the love story his parents had.

Adrien wanted friends. Adrien wanted more people like Chloé in his life, more people who were willing to help him, no matter what the cost. But first, Adrien needed to talk to Chloé. He had promised Plagg that he wouldn't reveal his identity to anyone, but maybe there were some promises that needed to be broken.

——————————————————————

"Thanks for coming to school today," Chloé said. They were both in the library for third period when Chloé had grabbed him and dragged him to a secluded spot in the back of the library.

"My Father's going to be disappointed in me, but that's not much of a change. He's never been proud of me, no matter what I do."

Chloé hugged him, then whispered in his ear in a faux-serious voice,"I'll help you hide the body."

Adrien let out a laugh and then shook his head. "I know you would, Chloé. How are things between you and J.T."

"He sent me a note this morning." Chloé pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pants pocket. "Dear Soulmate. What's your favorite type of cookie? (I happen to know a very good baker who is currently taking requests)"

"I assume you told him chocolate chip."

"You know me so well." Chloé's playful expression turned serious. "I know you very well too. That's how I know that you're Chat Noir."

"I'm not-" Adrien began to protest, but Chloé cut him off.

"You don't need to argue with me. It's not going to work."

"But-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk."

Adrien blinked a tear out of his eye. "Thank you, Chloé. Thank you for always being there for me."

"You're welcome." Chloé stood up, then pulled Adrien up to his feet as well.

"Now c'mon. I have this friend named Marinette who I think you would like."

Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @beautym3 @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2

#Lost and Found #marinette #damian wayne #maribat #maridami #daminette #marinette x damian #my work

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rainhadaenerys · 5 years ago

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Sometimes I like to search for my own posts in other sites, especially because my book vs show meta is shared quite a lot. I saw someone share my meta on r/gameofthrones, and without fail, some Sansa stan came to say that I was biased, that I didn’t talk about Dany’s “dark moments” in the books, that show!Dany was actually whitewashed:

Wow. Wow. I am the one that is biased, clearly *sarcasm*. Also notice how this anti doesn’t provide a single book quote to support their wild claims.

“The only reason Dany took Astapor was for an army”

Then why did she free the Unsullied when she didn’t need to? Then why did she delay her invasion of Westeros to stay in Slaver’s Bay freeing slaves? Then why did she refuse Yunkai’s gold, Xaro’s ships, Quentyn’s alliance, all things that would have been given freely to her if she decided to leave, and instead chose to stay to ensure people’s freedom? Also, see this meta:

https://rainhadaenerys.tumblr.com/post/182893726737/tatticstudio55-i-didnt-think-id-have-the#notes

“She was ok with Drogo selling the Lhazareen into slavery, she said it was the price of the Iron Throne”.

Dany was a 14 years old girl who had no experience on war. Antis like to say that Dany convinced Drogo to invade knowing that he was going to enslave people to do it, but this is not an argument supported by the text at all. When Dany asks Drogo to help her take the Seven Kingdoms, no one mentions the need to sell slaves:

The khal's mouth twisted in a frown beneath the droop of his long mustachio. "The stallion who mounts the world has no need of iron chairs."

Dany propped herself on an elbow to look up at him, so tall and magnificent. She loved his hair especially. It had never been cut; he had never known defeat. "It was prophesied that the stallion will ride to the ends of the earth," she said.

"The earth ends at the black salt sea," Drogo answered at once. He wet a cloth in a basin of warm water to wipe the sweat and oil from his skin. "No horse can cross the poison water."

"In the Free Cities, there are ships by the thousand," Dany told him, as she had told him before. "Wooden horses with a hundred legs, that fly across the sea on wings full of wind."

Khal Drogo did not want to hear it. "We will speak no more of wooden horses and iron chairs." He dropped the cloth and began to dress. "This day I will go to the grass and hunt, woman wife," he announced as he shrugged into a painted vest and buckled on a wide belt with heavy medallions of silver, gold, and bronze.

"Yes, my sun-and-stars," Dany said. Drogo would take his bloodriders and ride in search of hrakkar, the great white lion of the plains. If they returned triumphant, her lord husband's joy would be fierce, and he might be willing to hear her out. - Daenerys VI ADWD

That’s it. That’s the moment Dany asks Drogo to help her take the Seven Kingdoms. There’s no mentions of selling slaves at all in their conversation. We don’t even know if Dany is aware or not of what taking the Seven Kingdoms is going to take. Given how young and inexperienced she is, it doesn’t seem like she gave much thought about the ugly aspects of war at all. Besides, it’s only after the wineseller tries to poison Dany that Drogo mentions that he will rape women and enslave children in Westeros, and at this point, Dany doesn’t have much of a say, because Drogo didn’t decide to invade Westeros because Dany asked. He decided to invade Westeros because the lives of wis wife (his property) and his son were threatened. This is an affront to his honor, his decision has nothing to do with pleasing Dany, so if she asks him to give up on invading Westeros, he won’t do it (just like he wouldn’t invade Westeros just because he asked). Dany didn’t seem to be aware of what taking Westeros back with Drogo would take, and after she finds out, she doesn’t really have the power to stop it.

And saying that Dany was ok with enslaving the Lhazareen is a blatant lie:

I am the blood of the dragon, Daenerys Targaryen reminded herself as she turned her face away. She pressed her lips together and hardened her heart and rode on toward the gate.

"Most of Ogo's riders fled," Ser Jorah was saying. "Still, there may be as many as ten thousand captives."

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

"I've told the khal he ought to make for Meereen," Ser Jorah said. "They'll pay a better price than he'd get from a slaving caravan. Illyrio writes that they had a plague last year, so the brothels are paying double for healthy young girls, and triple for boys under ten. If enough children survive the journey, the gold will buy us all the ships we need, and hire men to sail them."

Behind them, the girl being raped made a heartrending sound, a long sobbing wail that went on and on and on. Dany's hand clenched hard around the reins, and she turned the silver's head. "Make them stop," she commanded Ser Jorah. - Daenerys VII AGOT

Dany has little say in what’s happening here, little agency. She is just the wife of the khal, and what he decides is what happens. This is the very first time Dany is seeing the Dothraki attack anyone (before this, she was just traveling through the Dothraki Sea to Vaes Dothrak). And she is horrified by what she is seeing. Antis love to take the line “this is the price of the Iron Throne” out of context, but looking at the context in which the line is said tells us a very different story: when Dany says "this is war, this is the price of the Iron Throne", she's not saying it because she's ok with slavery. Quite the opposite: she hates what she's seeing, and she says this to convince herself that she doesn't care, to tell herself to be strong. But it doesn't work, Dany can't look past the awful things that she is seeing, and only two paragraphs later, she starts trying to save as many women as she can, in the only way she can: by claiming those women for herself.

By the way, Dany puts herself at a huge risk by trying to protect those women, because she is defying Drogo’s men. When her khas goes to enforce her order, the Dothraki fight, and some men die trying to defend their rights to the spoils of war. Many of the men look at her with cold eyes. These men try to complain to the khal about this, and when Drogo dies and Dany loses the protection of his authority, Dany is in grave danger.

Also see this meta:

https://rainhadaenerys.tumblr.com/post/186687986788/adamparrush-dany-burning-mirri-maaz-duur-alive#notes

“Dany was murdering children in Astapor”

This is just bad reading comprehension, or this person is trying to distort things. Dany didn’t order the killing of children. She ordered only masters and soldiers to be killed, those actively fighting against her to keep slavery. She tell them not to harm any child below 12 to avoid the Unsullied killing innocents. Also, saying “don’t kill anyone under 12″ is not the same thing as saying “kill everyone over 12″, stupid anti.

Also, see this meta:

https://rainhadaenerys.tumblr.com/post/184630644137/hi-i-really-enjoy-your-blog-and-your-meta-i#notes

“Dany didn’t want the entire caravan from Astapor and Yunkai to follow her”

That’s a really dishonest distortion of the facts. This is what Dany actually says:

The raggle-taggle host of freedmen dwarfed her own, but they were more burden than benefit. Perhaps one in a hundred had a donkey, a camel, or an ox; most carried weapons looted from some slaver's armory, but only one in ten was strong enough to fight, and none was trained. They ate the land bare as they passed, like locusts in sandals. Yet Dany could not bring herself to abandon them as Ser Jorah and her bloodriders urged. I told them they were free. I cannot tell them now they are not free to join me. She gazed at the smoke rising from their cookfires and swallowed a sigh. She might have the best footsoldiers in the world, but she also had the worst. - Daenerys IV ASOS

Dany says that the freedmen are a burden. She is simply stating a fact, the freedmen are a burden. But she refuses to abandon them as her advisors urged, because she freaking cares about them, you idiot.

“The pile of bodies was high when she took Meereen”

Of course the pile of bodies was high! A battle to take the city just happened! Usually, when there’s a battle, people die, and there are bodies. I guess this idiot must think that Jon and Robb won all of their battles without killing a single soul. Let’s just pretend that none of Robb’s victories had any pile of bodies. Like, wow. What kind of argument even was this?

“They don’t talk about the torturing of the wineseller’s daughter”

Another blatantly lie. I do talk about the torture of the wineseller’s daughters in my books vs show meta, let me quote what I wrote here:

4) Then, after Dany executes Mossador in the name of a fair trial, she decides to throw “fair trial” out of the window by feeding one of the slavers to her dragons for revenge. This is something that never happens in the books. The closest we have to a problematic action like this is when Dany allows the wineseller’s daughters to be tortured. But this isn’t anywhere near as dark as feeding people to her dragons, for various reasons: 1) because Dany’s actions in the books are inserted in a context in which torture is seen as a normal and legitimate means of investigation by the society. Dany is not the only one that does this, and even honorable Jon Snow considers throwing Janos Slynt in an ice cell to force him to comply, and later throws Cregan Karstark in one. So Dany’s actions in the books are lawful, while in the show, they are not; 2) because Dany was trying to investigate. She was angry about what happened, but revenge was not the only motivation; 3) in the books, Dany learns a lesson from this and becomes the only ruler in ASOIAF to explicitly forbid torture.

Another thing that makes the dragon feeding scene so bad is that Dany tells the masters that she doesn’t care who’s innocent or not. But book Daenerys does care about it:

“We have no proof this is their work. Would you have me slaughter my own subjects?” – Daenerys IV ADWD

Feeding people to her dragons in the show was a criminal action taken by show Dany, and it was made out of revenge, with show Dany saying that she doesn’t care about innocence. This is very different from Dany in the books, and much much darker.

“They don’t talk about Dany enslaving people once she becomes queen”

I don’t talk about this because this never happened. Dany does allow people to sell themselves back into slavery, but only if they want to, and she very clearly doesn’t want to allow it:

Dany was shocked. “They want to be slaves?”

“The ones who come are well spoken and gently born, sweet queen. Such slaves are prized. In the Free Cities they will be tutors, scribes, bed slaves, even healers and priests. They will sleep in soft beds, eat rich foods, and dwell in manses. Here they have lost all, and live in fear and squalor.”

“I see.” Perhaps it was not so shocking, if these tales of Astapor were true. Dany thought a moment. “Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman.” She raised a hand. “But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife.” - Daenerys VI ASOS

Dany does this because she thinks it’s for the best. Because people convince her that otherwise, those people will live in fear and squalor. But she makes it very clear that no one is allowed to force another person into slavery. And actually, the majority of the former slaves choose to remain free. I write in more detail about this here:

https://rainhadaenerys.tumblr.com/post/182694132667/do-the-slaves-of-westeros-really-want-danys-help#notes

“They don’t talk about how Dany treated Irri”

You mean how Irri started to have sex with Dany on her own free will without Dany ever asking her? You mean how Dany treats Irri wih dignity, respects her consent, and makes it very clear to Irri that she doesn’t have to have sex with her if she doesn’t want it?

"Should I pleasure the khaleesi?"Dany stepped away from her. "No. Irri, you do not need to do that. What happened that night, when you woke . . . you're no bed slave, I freed you, remember? You . . ." - Daenerys II ASOS

Talk all you want about power difference, but Dany respected Irri’s consent, she treated her with dignity.

See also this meta:

https://rainhadaenerys.tumblr.com/post/187867805480/hiya-mindset-love-your-blog-i-was-reading#notes

And they continued on their bullshit:

They repeat a lot of the stuff I already refuted here, but there are some more:

“Jorah killed Rhaego, not MMD”

Mirri Maz Duur admits she killed Rhaego when Dany accuses her:

Dany gestured at Ser Jorah and the others. "Leave us. I would speak with this maegi alone." Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew. "You knew," Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. "You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it."

"It was wrong of them to burn my temple," the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. "That angered the Great Shepherd."

"This was no god's work," Dany said coldly. If I look back I am lost. "You cheated me. You murdered my child within me."

"The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust." - Daenerys IX AGOT

MMD killed an innocent child for revenge, and to prevent a supposed future. She admits it.

"She said to kill everyone in a tokar, this is every freeborn”

No, the tokar is not worn by every freeborn. The tokar is a master’s garment, and it makes it impossible to work. Those who wore it are only those who have the wealth and power and don’t have to work, aka, the freaking slave masters:

The garment was a clumsy thing, a long loose shapeless sheet that had to be wound around her hips and under an arm and over a shoulder, its dangling fringes carefully layered and displayed. Wound too loose, it was like to fall off; wound too tight, it would tangle, trip, and bind. Even wound properly, the tokar required its wearer to hold it in place with the left hand. Walking in a tokar demanded small, mincing steps and exquisite balance, lest one tread upon those heavy trailing fringes. It was not a garment meant for any man who had to work. The tokar was a master's garment, a sign of wealth and power. - Daenerys I ADWD

Ugh. Then they went on:

Again, this freaking obsession antis have to convince people that they loooooove Daenerys. I could go on refuting this idiot, but it can be summed up in “You Dany stans can’t see things objectively, I’m the only one that uses logic, blah, blah, blah”. They go on to complain that Dany killed soldiers (none of their faves ever killed soldiers, right?), to say that Dany killed slaves and freed people (no, she didn’t), that you can’t see things in black and white and divide the situation into slavers and slaves (I guess they’re trying to say that Dany is bad for killing some supposedly nice slavers), blah, blah blah.

Sorry if I went off, everyone. This made me really angry. Apparently, I’m the biased one that distorts things, and not this idiot.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys defense squad #books vs show #also kinda me defending myself and yelling into the void

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paigenotblank · 6 years ago

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The Age of the Wolf (9/9)

Rating: Mature overall, this chapter is teen

Pairing: Eighth Doctor x Rose Tyler; Eleventh x Rose; Ten x Rose

Written for @doctorroseprompts and Eight x Rose August. Prompt: Dimension hopping!Rose meets Eight / What if Rose was with Eight or met Eight during the Time War? 50th Anniversary Re-Write/Fix-It

catch up on Tumblr: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

AO3 TSP

The youngest Doctor clutched his head as the screams of the Time Lords tore through his mind. As the agony became too great for his overwhelmed barriers, ripples of pain could be felt by his successors and Rose through their bond. One by one, each Gallifreyan connection ripped off into silence and his mind was left in tatters. The sudden lack of noise in his mind was suffocating in its quiet and did not afford him the relief it should have. His legs wobbled and he fell to the ground. Rose stepped forward, but was stopped by the eldest Doctor.

“You can’t interfere. This forms who I’ll be after the Time War. Who I was when you first met me.”

Rose’s eyes flashed. “Don’t presume to tell me what’s best for my husband.”

“But it’s me! And I don’t want-”

“Do you recall our bonding vows?”

The older Doctor winced and tried to scan through the memories of the Time War to find the right one. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had a chance to go through all the memories that’ve been hidden from me. I only remember our Earth ceremony.”

Rose’s eyes softened and her anger faded a bit. She cupped his cheek. Her eyes glowed gold and the memory the Doctor sought was pulled to the forefront of his mind. He closed his eyes as the precious event replayed behind his eyelids.

Do you vow to tend to the garden of each other’s mindscape as you would your own?

“Oh, Rose.”

“It’s a vow I intend to keep.”

He closed his eyes against her entreaty. “Rose...”

She laid her hand on his arm. “I won’t watch him be driven mad by this. When we met, yes, you were still hurting and, yes, it was awful, but you were still you. You still saw the joy in the small things. That daft, quick grin of yours… That’s the man I fell in love with. I want you safe, my Doctor. And I can’t stand by and do nothing while you’re suffering like this.”

The older Doctor clenched his eyes closed and stepped back.

Rose went to move to her husband’s side. But something was wrong.

The world suddenly had gone unnaturally quiet. Rose looked around at the others in the room, all unmoving, frozen in time. Rose reached back to the Doctor closest to her, the one in the bowtie. She touched his arm and found it as hard as stone. She turned to her second doctor and waved her hand in front of his unseeing eyes.

“Doctor! Doctor!”

Rose spun around looking for the smallest movement from anyone or anything. Even the dust was suspended in the air and felt like pins pricking her when she tried to move her hand through it.

Just as she was approaching all out panic, Rose heard singing. A beautiful song that calmed her racing heart and brought peace to her soul.

The TARDIS that had been her home for the last century began materializing in the barn between her later selves.

Rose, with the golden mantle of time wrapped around her, materialized inside the sister of her heart and other half of her soul.

Together, of one mind, they dematerialized and rematerialized at the site of the collapsing star that was once known as the Eye of Harmony, Gallifrey’s incredible power source and the post by which the fabric of all time was held together. The time bubble that had prevented its demise was irrevocably breaking down and time was fraying at its source.

The Goddess of Time had seen this moment in the dawn of eternity. And so she searched through all of time and space for a daughter - created of herself. A being through whom she could interact with the physical world. Bad Wolf. A hybrid of two unique females, Rose Tyler and the TARDIS, both willing to battle for the universe, for justice, for hope, for love. These two souls, fully merged and floating over the ruins of Gallifrey, knew what needed to be done. Drawing on the power of the newly-formed black hole and her own artron energy, Bad Wolf orchestrated the birth of a star from the gases and dust left in the wake of the destruction of Gallifrey.

With a wave of her hand, the Time Goddess - directed the nebula to gain mass and stability. It formed into an object pulsing with power, burning through its hydrogen atoms, billions of years in the blink of an eye. As the flames of the star burned more luminous than ever, she trapped it in that moment, at its brightest and just on the brink of death, and howled her name across the cosmos.

Rose and the TARDIS worked in tandem to free the knotted strands of time, unraveling it completely. A billion billion people across the multiverse knew unending sadness and their hearts broke with each filament. All of that dissipated as Bad Wolf remade and then re-anchored the Web of Time to its new hitching post.

When they were done, they hid it a moment out of sync from the rest of the universe. When all that was, is, and ever could be was safe from any who may try to harness the power from which all of time flowed, the Goddess smiled and life carried on as if nothing at all had happened.

With the prophecy fulfilled, Bad Wolf released Rose and the TARDIS to return to the moment from which they’d left.

Time sped up around Rose until she was once again in sync with the others in the barn.

The two older Doctors and Clara rushed to Rose’s side when they noticed her frozen in place, her eyes filled with the light of the time vortex. Slowly, her limbs once again began to move and her chest filled with breath, but the glow in her eyes didn’t fade.

Rose collapsed to her knees across from her writhing husband.

“Rose!” Her pinstriped Doctor moved to grab her. “What happened?”

She lifted her hand in warning. “I had a prophecy to fulfill.”

“What are you talking about? What prophecy?”

The oldest Doctor gasped. “Rose!”

Her body took on a golden shimmer just beneath the surface and she crawled to the youngest Doctor’s side. Her voice vibrated with power, “I am Bad Wolf. Your Rose Tyler, created by Time from the dust of the cosmos. I see all that is, was, and ever could be. I see the Last Son of Gallifrey, and set him to be the protector of my domain. I gave him my daughter, as mate, to keep him safe and to run at his side forever. Sleep now, Doctor.”

She kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, and finally his lips. She ran her hands through his hair, over his ears, down his cheeks, and then she brushed his temples.

He whimpered.

Rose’s voice swirled through the cavern of the Doctor’s mind, brushing away the chaos and healing the most badly damaged edges. He still hurt, but the pain was muted. I love you, my Doctor. Come find me. I’ll be waiting.

Bad Wolf then helped Rose hide his memories of their life together, leaving the basics of what had occurred, but creating a false incarnation and blurring her presence into a fairytale.

Panting from the effort of keeping the time bubble securely around them and the Doctor’s regeneration energy at bay, she finally gave in and the barn exploded in white light.

Rose slowly came awake on a bench pressed closely into the sides of two Doctors. Her head lolled against a pinstriped shoulder. His chin rested on the top of her head and she could feel it move as he asked his counterpart, “I won’t remember this, will I?”

“The time streams are out of sync. You can’t retain it, no.”

“Why can’t I take her with me?”

“It’s not the right time. I’m sorry.”

She felt his sigh and the catch in his breath while he considered his next question. “How much longer?”

“Until?”

“Don’t be stupid.” The hand around her waist tightened. “Until I get her back.”

Rose could feel the bowtied Doctor shifting and her eyes opened as he stood. He smiled at her. “Knew you’d awoken.”

He his eyes darted back to the broken man he remembered once being. Living without Rose was one of the worst times in his long life and he ached to give some relief to to his former self, but… “Spoilers.”

The defeated look in the other man’s eyes nearly had him blurting out all their secrets.

“Stop it!” Rose jumped from her seat and they both stared at Rose in surprise. She ran her fingers along the Doctor’s sideburns. “I’m coming back to you. Soon. I promise.”

“What?”

“How could you possibly-”

She silenced them both with a glare, before rolling her eyes. She pressed a kiss to the Doctor’s forehead. “Trust me. Certain things need to happen for you, things that have already happened for me, before I can come back. But then you’re stuck with me.”

His wide grin spread across his face. “Stuck with you, that’s not so bad.”

She pulled him to a stand and grinned back. The bowtied Doctor cleared his throat. “Sorry, but we’ve got to get going.” He tilted his head toward the TARDISes, both of which had begun groaning their dismay.

“Right. Anyway, good to know my future is in safe hands.” The Doctor raised Rose’s hands to his lips. With a sigh, he turned to Clara and pointing at Rose and his future self he said, “Keep an eye on those two, Clara.”

She laughed. “On it.”

He winked at her and waved goodbye to the others. He stepped into the TARDIS with one last longing look at Rose before letting the doors fall closed.

Rose threw herself into the older Doctor’s arms. “That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

“Rose, you just ended the Time War.”

She sniffled. “I know.”

He kissed the top of her head. “C’mon. Let’s get you to one of the happiest day of my life.”

Rose raised her teary eyes to his and smiled. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.”

The Doctor fiddled with a knob to the monitor and wouldn’t meet Rose’s eyes.

“Doctor?”

He turned to her with a big smile. “Right! End of the line.” His gaze raked over her. She was dressed once again in the outfit she’d been wearing back when she’d been jumping dimensions. “Just outside those doors is a Time L-” He narrowed his eyes at her hands. “Wait! Be right back.” The Doctor ran up the stairs of his console room and disappeared down one of the corridors.

“Doctor!” Rose turned to Clara. “What’s he doing?”

“With him, I never know.” She shrugged and went back to her book.

The Doctor clambered down the steps carrying a giant gun reminiscent of the one Rose had lost ages ago on an almost deserted gunship.

“Where did you find that? I lost it!”

“Oh, erm, well, this isn’t yours exactly.”

“What?”

“It’s Mickey’s or was Mickey’s.”

“Mickey?”

“Don’t worry about how I got it, honestly, little bit of a paradox there, but listen, this...this is very important...”

“Yeah?”

“After you get back to me and you’re safely on the TARDIS, before you do anything else to help me with the...the cause of the stars going out. I need you to take this gun back to storage room G. Tell me that you’ll catch up with me. I’m not gonna want to go without you, but it is essential that this is returned to storage before you step one foot out of the TARDIS doors. Let me and Jack and Donna head out before you. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Storage room G.”

The Doctor let out a relieved breath. “Good. That’s everything. Oh, and be careful out there, never know what’s lurking just around the corner.”

“Corners, eh?”

The Doctor put his hands in his pocket and shrugged.

Rose slipped the strap of the gun over her shoulder and looked wistfully at the door. “So, just outside those doors?”

The Doctor wrapped Rose in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Everything you worked so hard for.”

Rose smiled tearily up at the Doctor and cupped his jaw. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. You never stop saving me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Rose took a deep breath and walked toward the door. She paused before going through it. “I’ll see you later.”

The Doctor winked. “Not if I see you first.”

Rose’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “It was lovely meeting you too, Clara.”

“Bye, Rose. And good luck!”

Rose waved and walked out into the next chapter of her life.

Wilf knocked on the glass of the door, still stuck in the booth, to get the Doctor and Rose’s attention. They pulled back from their hug and swung their heads toward him.

“They gone, then? Yeah, good-o. If you could let me out?”

Rose nodded and walked over to the glass enclosure.

Wilf swallowed nervously. “This thing seems to be making a bit of a noise.”

The Doctor gave it a cursory glance. “The Master left the Nuclear Bolt running. It's gone into overload.”

“And that's bad, is it?”

“No.” The Doctor turned to look at his wife. “...because all the excess radiation gets vented inside there. Vinvocci glass contains it. All five hundred thousand rads, about to flood that thing.”

Rose ran her finger along the Doctor’s jaw and raised to her toes to give him a quick kiss. “I’d better let ‘im out then. I’d hate for Donna to come back from her honeymoon and find somethin’ had happened to her gramps.”

The Doctor pulled her back for a more thorough snog before running his fingers through her hair. “You don’t need to do this. I can do it this time.”

“Doctor…”

“It’s going to hurt. A lot. Please, Rose. Let me.”

“I can handle it. Trust me, yeah?” Rose slipped into the other half of the booth and pulled the door closed. She looked over the control panel and found the button she was searching for. She smiled bravely at the Doctor and pressed the button.

Wilf’s side unlocked and the Doctor helped him out and they both stepped back from the glass booth. A red light flooded Rose’s side and she screamed out in pain, knees buckling under her. The Doctor balled his fists and clamped his jaw, unwilling to turn away. Wilf clutched at the Doctor’s shoulder, but couldn’t bring himself to watch Rose writhing on the ground.

After an unbearably long few seconds, the power shut down, and the Doctor raced through the now unlocked door. He fell to his knees and gathered her into his embrace. He rocked back and forth with her in his arms. “Come on, love. Come on. Come back.”

A faint glowing rippled under her skin and her eyes fluttered open.

The Doctor breathed out in relief. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Rose lifted her hands to the Doctor’s face and ran her fingers over the cuts and scrapes on his face. They healed under her touch. She smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. The Doctor stood, Rose held securely in his arms. “Never gets easier.”

She snuggled into his side. “Wha’?”

“Watching you die. Wondering if this is the time you don’t come back.”

“Never gonna happen. Promised you forever, didn’t I?”

The Doctor’s grip on her tightened. “Let’s go home. Get you to bed.”

“Mmmm, Doctor. Reading my mind are you?” She gave him a saucy grin with a hint of tongue peeking out.

“Not like that!”

Her merry peal of laughter did more to lighten the fear that had taken hold when she was rendered unconscious than anything else. He released his own soft chuckle. “Allons-y, Rose Tyler.”

“Sorry we didn’t make it to the Moon.” The Doctor fidgeted at the controls.

Clara paused at the door and leaned up against the jamb. “That’s okay. Another time.”

“We could go now?”

Clara shook her head. “We’re already back and I have a date with Danny in 20 minutes. I really need to get ready. Where’s Rose, your Rose, anyway? I meant to ask.”

The Doctor blew out a breath. “Donna went into labor with the twins.”

“Oh! That’s great!”

“I apparently was making her anxious, so they kicked me out. I don’t hover. I’m not a hoverer. Am I?”

Clara laughed.

“Oi! I’m not. I the king of cool. I’m gonna be the cool uncle. Uncle Doctor Cool.”

Clara’s lips twitched. “Whatever you say, Doctor.”

He flung himself onto the jumpseat and leaned his head back. “I hate it when Rose isn’t here.”

“Why don’t you just jump ahead a few hours?”

He let out a deep breath. “Rose always knows when I cheat.”

“But does she mind?”

The Doctor shrugged.

“Well then, I suppose you could wait in the waiting room like a normal person.”

“Now you sound like Sylvia, and believe me that is not a compliment.”

Clara pushed off the door and backed into her flat. She pointed at the Doctor. “Take my advice, go back to the hospital, wait for your wife in the waiting room, and stay out of Donna’s way until after the babies get here. And bring a gift.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes but nodded all the same.

“And next week, Mister, you can take me to visit them.”

“Yes, boss.” The Doctor saluted his friend. “Enjoy your date.”

“Tell Rose, I said, ‘hi.’” Clara waved as she turned and walked into her bedroom.

Rose walked into the darkened waiting room fighting to keep her eyes open. She smiled when she noticed the Doctor sprawled across three seats. He had his jacket off, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and his hair looked like he’d done a lot of running his hands through it. He was tossing his sonic and gave every appearance of being completely bored. She honestly was surprised to see that he hadn’t simply skipped ahead. She saw it as a testament to his fondness for Donna, that he would willingly subject himself to keeping himself in one place for a length of time.

The Doctor caught sight of Rose leaning against the wall out of the corner of his eye and jumped up. “Rose! How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.” She gave him an affectionate smile and pushed off the wall. “Let’s go home. I’m knackered.”

The Doctor tugged his jacket back on, and picked up two big teddy bears and a bouquet of flowers that she hadn’t noticed.

“What’s all this?”

“Clara said I should bring a gift, but then I realized I didn’t know if she meant for the babies or for Donna. So I got all of them something.”

Rose’s heart expanded with her love for the man in front of her. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “That is very thoughtful and sweet, but they’re all resting right now so you’ll have to give it to them in the morning.”

“Oh.”

She took one of the stuffed animals from him and clasped his hand. He tugged her in the direction of where he’d parked the TARDIS and opened the door for her.

“So, you saw Clara today?”

“Mmhmm.” He dropped the bear and the flowers onto the jumpseat and began digging through his pockets.

“What are you looking for?”

“Hang on. Just put it in here a few hours ago, so it should be near the top. Ah ha!”

The Doctor pulled out a small piece of metal and Rose’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Where...where’d you get that?”

The Doctor walked over to Rose and lifted her hand. “I asked the TARDIS nicely and for once she indulged me.” He slipped Rose’s wedding band, the one he’d given her for their 80th anniversary while still in his eighth body, onto her ring finger.

“How? I didn’t think you...” Her eyes widened. “Oh! You saw Clara today.”

He nodded and she saw a sadness in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in ages. “After I saw you wearing it in that clearing in 1562, I, well, I figured since you don’t wear it or keep it on you some other way, then you had to have it around here somewhere.”

“Oh, Doctor!” Rose pulled him into her embrace and held onto him tightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“You were.”

“Not this me.”

He pulled back to press a kiss to her forehead. “You know how you always tell me that I’m the same man and you’ll love all of me?”

“Yeah.”

He took her hands in his. “Well, what makes you think that I can’t or don’t love any and all of you?”

She gave him a bright but tremulous smile.

He dropped his eyes to their entwined fingers. “You know, I wondered at the time why it didn’t bother you more that I completely forgot to get you a ring when we got married. Our second marriage as it turns out.”

“The one in New Las Vegas?”

He nodded and met her eyes.

Rose took a deep breath and sighed. “Honestly, I was a bit relieved that in the whirlwind of eloping, you overlooked it. I already had one, and even if I couldn’t wear it, it was still mine. I’d not even taken it off 24 hours prior and was still processing everything. Plus it was worth it to see the officiant’s face when he asked if we’d be exchanging tokens of our love and your eyes got all wide and you stuck your hands in your pockets frantically searching for something. When you pulled out those pebbles and started babbling about the wedding rituals on Awipop-”

“You laughed!”

“I did. I love my pebble. And I was just so happy to be back and it was so...us. It felt good and I was a little bit relieved that you still wanted me, knowing you didn’t remember any of our life together.”

“What do you mean not want you? How could you even think that? Those years without you were the worst of my life. You saw me, the skinny hedgehog me, back when were were dealing with the Zygons. How much I missed you. How-”

“I know. I do. I guess I just didn’t expect that the first thing you’d do after seeing me again was to drag me to New Las Vegas to get married.”

“Well, it wasn’t the first thing I did with you.” His barely there eyebrows waggled.

Rose blushed at the memory and giggled. “No. We did have all that really great reunion sex first.”

He puffed up his chest. “It was really great, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

He wagged his finger at her. “You know, I was so guilty after we woke up the following morning and we were bonded. I thought I lost control during the night and-”

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry. I know how freaked out it made you and I felt awful. It was really me who’d lost control and I couldn’t say anything because those memories were all hidden from you.” Her lips twitched. “I was planning on shielding the bond as best I could and hoping you’d ask me to bond with you again. But then-”

“I would have. Just for the record. Could barely think of anything else when you were back in my arms. I felt at peace for the first time in years.”

“I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t change one moment of our time together.”

“None of it? Even losing me?”

“Oh Rose, I didn’t enjoy losing you, but if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been with me during the Time War, and I...I really think I only survived because you were there with me.”

“Doctor…”

“Rose, I have never been happier in my lives than I am right now, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Rose carded her fingers through his hair and dragged him down for a messy kiss. “I love you.” She pulled back and laced their fingers together. “Let’s go to bed.”

They walked to their bedroom as they would continue on forever - hand in hand.

#doctor x rose #eight x rose #ten x rose #eleven x rose #doctorroseprompts #50th re-write/fix it #clara oswald #Wilfred mott #never the end #but the final chapter in this story

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thecaptainofswans · 7 years ago

Text

Heart Eyes and Leather Jackets (A CS Fic Excerpt)

It’s been a while since I’ve interacted with the CS/OUAT community, but I’ve been going through some old documents and found a few (or a lot) of CS fanfics that I was too afraid to post. So I thought I’d finally post part of one of my favorites and see what some of you CS shippers thought of it. Hope you like it! (Part 1/?)

...

Modern AU where Killian and Emma meet in High School. She’s an aspiring artist, and he’s more than willing to be her muse. Nice and fluffy as the story follows the characters growing up.

...

“You gonna do it today?”

Killian looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs and stared at his brother. Liam held an expectant expression, sipping on his coffee.

“Do what?” Killian asked, eyebrows raised.

“Ask that pretty blonde girl out,” Liam said just as Killian took another bite of his breakfast. He walked over and thumped him on the back as Killian choked on his eggs.

“What?!” he wheezed when he was finally able to breathe again. Liam chuckled and returned to his usual seat.

“As if I wouldn’t notice my little brother mooning over someone ever since we moved here,” Liam said. Killian muttered something about being his younger brother, not little. “Every time I visit the school, or we go out somewhere and she’s there, you always become flustered and mute. Don’t worry; it’s very cute.” Killian felt his cheeks warm at his brother’s teasing.

“I’m not- It’s not like that,” Killian stuttered, only proving his brother’s point. Liam grinned and took another sip of his coffee. “Emma…she uh. She doesn’t really date. Or at least, not that I’ve seen. And we’ve never really spoken before. Well that’s not true, we’ve exchanged pleasantries in the hallway. Plus, there was my first day but…” Killian stopped his rambling as Liam raised his eyebrows.

It had been six years since their father had died, leaving the two young brothers in the hands of the unforgiving foster care system. It had been four years since Liam had turned of age, officially standing as the legal guardian of Killian. Two years ago, Liam had decided that they both needed a fresh start and had moved to the Americas to do so. By that point, Killian had just turned fifteen and was ready to be a freshman in high school. And on his first day in an American school, he had met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and had been on a slippery slope ever since then. Now he was on his second week of his junior year, and he had yet to even talk to her for more than a sentence before becoming too flustered to speak any more.

“Well, how about we get to changing that, eh?” Liam said, raising his mug in cheers. Killian looked intently at his breakfast, becoming nervous even at the thought of talking to her. Normally, Killian could be quite charismatic, some even saying he had a sort of swagger to him. But there was something about Emma Swan that just made him weak in the knees. As he picked up his satchel and began to head out, Killian thought that maybe, just maybe, he could change that this year.

He rode his motorcycle to school that day, knowing that Liam would have to work the late shift that night and couldn’t carpool. The motorcycle had belonged to their father, one of the few things the bastard had left his sons. When he pulled up, it reminded him of the first day he had arrived. Several people looked at him, pausing in their stride to whatever class, muttering something to their neighbors. Many girls stopped to stare and giggled with their friends, looking away shyly if he glanced over. A few people had accused him in the past of wanting to be the center of attention all the time, and Killian completely disagreed with that. He quite liked his privacy and didn’t care too much for people staring. But being a British kid in a small-town school in Maine who wore leather jackets, black eyeliner, and who occasionally rode his thunderous motorcycle to school wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

Killian nodded to his fellow classmates as he passed them, pausing every once and a while to talk to a few of his friends. His eyes scanned the crowd of students, always searching for the beautiful blonde curls and magical green eyes.

“Hello? Earth to Killian! Are you there?”

Killian’s eyes snapped back to the petite blonde girl in front of him.

“Say again, darling?” he replied, and Tink rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I was just saying that Emma Swan and I were planning to have naked pillow fights later on and asked if you wanted to join. But since your mind is clearly elsewhere….” Tink trailed off, her eyes glittering. Killian glared at her.

“It’s not good form to tease a man that way, Bell,” he growled. She merely smirked at him before turning away to unlock her locker.

“So touchy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked that girl,” she said, pausing for his comeback. As much as he hated to admit it though, he couldn’t come up with anything. Tink looked back at him with a triumphant grin. She was one of the few who knew of his crush.

“Oh shut it,” he muttered very maturely and she laughed. Shaking his head, he slammed her locker door shut, barely giving her enough time to remove her hand. She glared up at him. He began to talk before she could mouth off.

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” he asked, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you?” she retorted, and again, he couldn’t argue.

They separated quickly, her going off to gods know where (the girl was unpredictable, hardly ever making it to the right class) and him off to chemistry. He arrived barely on time, the teacher giving him a disapproving look as he strode in, cutting off whatever he had begun to say.

“Please, Mr. Jones. Do try to be more punctual,” Mr. Spencer remarked. Killian raised his brow and lifted his right arm, tapping the watch there and indicating that it was exactly eight o’clock. The teacher pursed his lips before continuing what he had been saying before the interruption. Killian settled into one of the last two seats available.

“As I was I saying, today will be your first lab. Your desk-mate will be your partner for the rest of the year, so I hope you have chosen wisely.” Killian glanced at the empty seat beside him and figured he did okay considering what he had to choose from.

“Please open your textbooks to page-” Mr. Spencer began, but was interrupted by the door being thrown open again. A blur of plaid and blonde hair rushed into the room.

“Ah, Ms. Swan. Nice of you to finally join us. I was wondering when our new transfer would show up,” Killian barely heard the teacher say, for at that moment his heart was beating too loud for him to properly hear. There, standing right before him, was none other than Emma Swan. A slightly out of breath and disheveled looking Emma Swan, but it was her all the same.

“Sorry, I was-” she began.

“Late. And it better not become a habit. I’m sure you and your partner will get along just fine, though, considering,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to Killian. Incredibly, his heart sped up even faster, and he momentarily wondered how long it could go like that before finally giving out. Emma pursed her lips and walked abruptly to his table, slamming into her seat and dropping her bag next to her. She tried to compose herself, smoothing back her hair and pushing her thick, black glasses back up her nose. Killian just continued to stare at her slightly in awe.

“-page 15. Do the problems there using the chart. Work due at the end of class. Begin.” Killian blinked, looking back at the teacher as everyone else began to move. The man had been talking without him even realizing it.

He rummaged through his backpack, bringing out his notebook, pen, and textbook. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma look through her bag, nearly turning it inside out, before sighing heavily. She spun towards him in her seat and he looked up at her in surprise.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” she asked forcefully. He nodded and silently handed her the pen. She paused for a moment, pursing her lips as she thought.

“And paper?” she asked, a little more hesitantly. He slid his paper towards her. She furrowed her brow and bit her lip. “And a textbook?” she asked almost sheepishly. With a raise of his eyebrow, he pushed the textbook towards her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, looking slightly embarrassed. He merely nodded before digging through his backpack for more supplies.

Their classmates began to talk to one another loudly as they worked through the problems, a symphony of turning pages filling the air every once and a while. Killian and Emma, however, worked silently, neither quite sure what to say to one another. Though they knew of each other and knew each other’s names, the two had never really spoken to one another except for brief greetings in the hallways. Killian was afraid that the butterflies in his stomach would make him choke on whatever he tried to utter to her. After so many ways of imagining how this moment would go, he was completely blank. They were halfway through the third problem when Emma heaved another sigh and began to speak.

“My alarm didn’t go off this morning,” she said. He looked up at her questioningly.

“What?” She looked up at him as if he were the one saying things out of the blue.

“My alarm didn’t wake me up, so I was late and didn’t have enough time to pack. That’s why I had to borrow everything from you,” she explained, looking back to her own paper. He continued to look at her.

“And you’re telling me this because…” he drawled and she looked up at him in exasperation.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who expects guys to always help her out and foregoes bringing any supplies with her because of it,” she said haughtily. He raised his hands in surrender.

“I never thought you were,” he offered, and she relaxed a little. They both went back to work, their pens scratching relentlessly at the problems. He didn’t look up when he spoke again, afraid to look directly at her anymore. It was like looking into the sun.

“So why did you transfer to this class?” he asked, and she stopped writing.

“I, um, was originally in the basic chemistry class, but the counselor suggested I take the advanced class. Something about me not being challenged enough,” she said awkwardly, as if she were afraid he would judge her. Killian risked a glance up at her. A beautiful shade of pink was coloring her cheeks.

“There’s no shame in being smart, love.”

Emma looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I never said there was.”

Killian felt his cheeks begin to warm. Why did I say that? He quickly bent his head over his paper, unwilling to speak again. After a moment of him pretending to work on the problem, he heard the pen begin to scratch against her paper again, and a few minutes later the awkwardness seemed to ease.

The rest of the class period continued that way, both working silently for the most part. Occasionally one of them would ask the other a question about a problem, and Killian rejoiced in the way she always moved closer whenever she asked him about something in the book. A scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafted towards him every time she did so, and he wanted that scent to remain permanently in his nostrils for the rest of his days.

Wait, what? He was smelling her now? This was a new level of pathetic and creepy.

The bell for next period rang all too soon, and everyone began to pack up. Emma tried to hand him back his pen as he picked up the textbook, but he merely shook his head.

“Keep it. You’ll need it for the rest of the day anyway.”

She thanked him and put it into her bag, then took out an index card from it. She sighed again when she read what was written on it.

“Problems?” Killian asked politely, standing up and swinging his satchel over his shoulders.

“My schedule has completely changed. My next class is all the way on the other side of school,” Emma huffed, wrinkling her nose as she stood up with her own bag. Killian peeked at the room number written on the card.

“I can walk you there,” he offered somewhat hopefully. She shook her head.

“You don’t have to do that,” she began but he cut her off.

“No, really. I don’t mind. My class is right next to there,” he lied smoothly. Emma looked up at him unsurely, biting her lip. He wondered if that was a regular habit of hers before she responded reluctantly.

“Okay…”

With a shy smile (since when was he shy?), Killian led the way out the classroom and walked with her to the other side of the school, neither of them saying anything. They had a minute to spare when they finally arrived at her destination. Emma awkwardly paused outside the door, as if unsure of what he expected her to say. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure either. Stupid stupid stupid.

“Thanks. Again,” Emma finally said.

Killian nodded and she nodded back. They stood that way a while longer, still not knowing what to say. Right as he was about to wish her a good day, someone cleared their throat behind him. Killian tried to step back so quickly to let the guy through, he tripped over his own feet and had to catch himself on the nearest locker. A laugh bubbled out of Emma’s lips, and she covered her mouth to hide her smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked, biting against her smile. Killian chuckled as he regained his balance.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I don’t mind falling for you,” he said with only a slight break in his voice, then held his breath for her response. She laughed again, a beautiful sound.

The bell rang, and Emma began to turn away. Before she disappeared into the classroom, she turned back and gave him a small smile. With a smile of his own, Killian turned around and began to walk the opposite direction towards his class, not caring that he was going to be late. If he could make her smile again, he didn’t care if he was late for the rest of the year.

Much more to post if you like it :)

#Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #highschool!au #artist!emma #heart eyes and leather jackets #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan au #modern au #captain swan fic #cs high school fic

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tipsycad147 · 3 years ago

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Who is the God

by Crimsonwolf

The God is the Enforcer of the Goddess's Laws and the Goddess's Consort. He is the sun and the seasons.. Being born, dying, and being reborn in a constant cycle. He is the Divine Child, the Goddess's son who becomes her equal partner. He is the forest, the clear blue sky, and the soil beneath our feet.

The God has many forms. He takes on the many aspects, all which symbolize human emotion. These forms include the Lord of the Forest, the Father, the Healer, the Trickster, the Lord of Judgement, the Warrior, the Magician, the Savior, and the Lord of the Underworld. As the Lord of the Forest, he is the guardian of all living things. As the Father, he the nurturing caretaker. As the Healer, he brings health and prosperity back to Earth. As the Trickster, he is carefree and full of laughter. As the Lord of Judgement, he is the one who gives to people what they deserve (good or bad). As the Warrior, he is the Hero who fights for freedom and justice. As the Magician, he is the wise man who can help you discover great knowledge. As the Savior, he has a large impact on the world and its inhabitants... giving them new hope. As the Lord of the Underworld, he is the escort into the next life.

The Charge of the God

Listen to the words of the Great Father, who of old was called Osiris, Adonis, Zeus, Thor, Pan, Cernunnos, Herne, Lugh, and by many other names:

"My Law is Harmony with all things. Mine is the secret that opens the gates of life and mine is the dish of salt of the earth that is the body of Cernunnos, that is the eternal circle of rebirth . I give the knowledge of life everlasting, and beyond death I give the promise of regeneration and renewal . I am the sacrifice , the father of all things , and my protection blankets the earth."

Hear the words of the dancing God , the music of whose laughter stirs the winds , whose voice calls the seasons :

"I who am the Lord of the Hunt and the Power of the Light , Sun among the Clouds and Secret of the Flame , I call upon your bodies to arise and come unto me . For I am the flesh of the earth and all it's beings . Through me all things must die and with me are reborn . Let my worship be in the body that sings , for behold all acts of willing sacrifice are my rituals . Let there be desire and fear , anger and weakness, joy and peace, awe and longing within you . For these too are a part of the mysteries found within yourself , within me , all beginnings have endings, and all endings have beginnings ."

The Charge of the Horned God

Listen to the words of the Horned God , who is son , brother , lover , and consort of the Lady :

"I am the fleet deer in the forest , I am the beach which receives the waves , I am the sun which warms the earth. I am the Lord of the Spiral Dance of Life, Death and Rebirth, the Gentle Reaper, the Winter Stag and the Spring Fawn. All things are of me , for I am of the Goddess , opposite , yet not opposing. I bring forth from the womb that is a tomb, for i am the seed which fertilizes. I am abundant Life for I am the grain that grows , am I death - the harvest in the Fall. And I am rebirth after darkness, for i am the seed that springs forth anew."

"I am Fertility, the Spreader of life , and i am the Lord of Death , which adds value to life ."

"I am the Guardian of the Gate Between Life and Death. I am the King of the Underworld, where no living being may venture, but I am also the King of Rebirth, who makes of the tomb a womb ."

"I bring love and strength , peace and passion , hope and joy , for I am the Gentle Lover in the night ."

"I am the herald of All that comes from the Great Mother, the Divine Star Goddess, who is Mother of us all ."

The Charge of the Guardian Horned God

Listen to the words of the Horned God, the Guardian of All things Wild and Free, and Keeper of the Gates of Death, whose Call all must answer:

"I am the fire within your heart, the yearning of your Soul. I am the Hunter of Knowledge and the Seeker of the Holy Quest; I who stands in the darkness of light; I am He whom you have called Death . I the Consort and Mate of Her we adore, call forth to thee."

"Heed my call beloved ones, come unto me and learn the secrets of death and peace . I am the corn at harvest and the fruit on the trees . I am He who leads you home . Scourge and Flame , Blade and Blood these are mine and gifts to thee ."

"Call unto me in the forest wild and on hilltop bare and seek me in the darkness bright . I who have been called Pan, Herne, Osiris, and Hades speak to thee in thy search . Come dance and sing ; come live and smile , for behold : this is my worship ."

"You are my children and I am your Father . On swift night wings it is I who lay you at our Mother's feet to be reborn and to return again . Thou who thinks to seek me , know that I am the untamed wind , the fury of storm and passion in your Soul . Seek me with pride and humility , but seek me best with love and strength . For this is my path , and I love not the weak and fearful . Hear my call on long Winter nights and we shall stand together guarding Her Earth as She sleeps ."

Charge of the Dark God

Listen to the words of the Dark God

who was of old called Iakchos, Donn, Anubis, Hades, Setesh, Hoder and by many other names:

I am the shadow in the bright day, I am the reminder of mortality at the height of living.

I am the neverending veil of Night where the Star Goddess dances.

I am the Death that must be so that Life may continue, for behold, Life is immortal because the living must die.

I am the strength that protects, that limits; I am the power that says No, and No Further, and That is Enough.

I am the things that cannot be spoken of, and I am the laughter at the edge of Death.

Come with me into the warm enfolding dark; feel my caresses in the hands, in the mouth,

in the body of one you love, and be transformed.

Gather in the moonless night and speak in unknown tongues; the Dark Mother and I will listen.

Sing to us and cry out, and the Power will be yours to wield.

Blow me a kiss when the sky is dark and I will smile, but no kiss returns; for my kiss is the final one for all mortal flesh.

https://crimsonwolfe.tripod.com/id60.html

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kamyle · 4 years ago

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Glass Half Full (Final)

Kamyle Lomax

Profile Essay

November 8, 2020

ENGL 1102

Profile Essay: Glass Half Full

The English composition course that I am enrolled in this semester at Kennesaw State University, is solely structured around a course long profile project. This project consists of 3 major components: an interview, a source log, and a profile essay. Throughout the duration of this course we have been required to complete a series of assignments that have constructed the entirety of this profile. For my profile project, I have chosen to interview and research my wondrous, intelligent, and wholehearted mother, Mrs. Yvonne Lomax.

My interviewee is a 53-year-old sales manager, born and raised in Dayton, Ohio, often describe to as a “shero” by her loved ones. She is the mother of both me and my 31-year-old brother, Gary. We all live in Douglasville, GA and are an extremely close-knit family. My mother and I are very close and open with each other, so I was eager to see the things she should disclose to me within the interview process of this project.

As I sat anxiously, preparing to interview my mother, she sat across from me at our wood and marble dining room table, smoking her cigarette and watching CNN, awaiting my que to begin.

Once I press play on the voice memo app on my phone the interview begins and I said, “Welcome to the 2020 profile project interview with my mother, Yvonne Lomax”. My mother hesitates to introduce herself so then I asked, “aren’t you going to say something?”, jokingly and we both laugh.

She then goes on to graciously acknowledge her presence, “Hello everyone, I’m excited for the interview, Let’s get started Kamyle!”, she said eagerly. Picking up her glass of Pinot Grigio she then laughed at me calling her a “Great Co-Host”, she then ensured me that she was not my Co-Host she was my guest and we both laughed.

With CNN muted in the background, our dinner plates and wine glasses half full pushed to the side of us, I initiated the first interview question, “The first question that I have for you is, what is your fondest childhood memory?”, I asked eager to know which memory she would share.

Immediately after my asking the question, I observed my mother look to the sky in search for clarity on exactly which memory was fondest to her. Once the moment dawned on her, I could tell she began to reminisce and the became evident when she initiated the illuminative discussion regarding the wondrous childhood she and her younger sister shared.

After wandering through the past my mother shared her fondest memory by stating that, “If I had to think of what my fondest childhood memory was I would have to say it was being 14 years old headed to my freshman year in high school and my sister was 12, our father took us on a trip to New Orleans, Louisiana”. My mother continues to illustrate this trip she describes as her fondest memory. She recounts that her father had them staying in the Hyatt Regency at the Superdome, detailing that the hotel had shopping centers, movie theaters and restaurants, which she had never seen before, depicting the astonishing scenery of the place they boarded while on this trip.

Although the hotel was extravagant, I discovered that what really embedded into my 14-year-old mothers’ memory was the fact that she, her father and sister were actually staying at this beautiful establishment with Michael Jackson, whom she saw in the lobby. So, in fact it may have been the entirety of the trip that made it memorable, it was more over the presence of the legend Michael Jackson that influenced her to disclose this trip as her fondest memory. My mother ends her answer by saying, “And of course I love Michael Jackson”, and second that by agreeing, saying, “Well who doesn’t”.

As I prepared to ask my next question, the thought of how lucky my mother and aunt were to have had met The King of Pop. I have loved Michael Jackson since I was a very small child, and not just his music but his eagerness to stand out and be different unapologetically. I could not help to think if my love for this icon rooted from my mother’s experiences, parts of me wandered off thinking maybe my mother exposed me to his music very early on.

Surprisingly, I remember Michael Jacksons death aside from my grandmothers being one of my first experiences with death. I vaguely recollect my mother comforting my 7-year-old soul by telling me this very story and I was in complete awe.

I decided to go on by connecting the inquiry about her childhood and how good an upbringing it appeared she had, I directed the connection to discover if there was any stage or year of life my mother had a desire to relive or change. With no urge to vacillate, my mother bites her lip as she gathers her words and goes on to say, “Oh God, that is an easy question! I would relive my freshman year of college”.

I respond with, “Okay, why’s that?”, and my mother began to explain, “Well I made a lot of mistakes my freshman year... to keep it real I wasn’t serious, I did a lot of partying, I was put on academic probation and my mom made me come home for school, which honestly defeated the whole purpose”. As she continued to explain why she would relive this year of her life, she goes to detail what she would do differently.

To further illuminate this period of her journey, she went into a brief spiel, “See I always wanted to go to an HBCU, I wanted to go to Grambling State University located in Louisiana which is where my dad was from. My dad was all down with me going to an HBCU, especially Grambling since it was in Louisiana but he had just died shortly after I graduated Highschool… and after he passed away, I just think my mom wanted to keep her children closer”, she said.

Throughout this conversation my mother emphasizes on the prediction that if granted the decision to attend the institution of her choice she would have been more successful in her academics, she says, “I would have better seized the opportunity, taken better advantage, if I wasn’t forced to be somewhere I didn’t want to be”.

Getting this story to its entirety showed me why my mother has done everything in her power to provide my brother and I with a sense of choice and independency. It showed why my mother willing accepted my choice to transfer back home in the middle of my freshman year and my brother’s choice not to pursue a degree but to follow his dream in music. Although she explains she would relive this year if given the choice, my mother ensures she knows it is how things were meant to be.

I quickly transition into my next question, “Since you’re saying this, do you believe that everything is written in the universe or are we really choosing the life we live?”, I followed this up by saying, “So do you think that you going to the University of Cincinnati and not going to Grambling was written in the universe or did that just happen because your mom didn’t let you go?”. Confidently my mother replies, “That was definitely written in the universe, because of me going to UC I was able to meet my sons dad, which I never would’ve met him if I went to Grambling… everyone that is on this earth is meant to be here so that definitely is written in the universe… it was a part of my blueprint”.

After this conversation, we had both loosened up a little, our glasses were waiting to be refilled and the smell of incenses roamed the atmosphere and in this moment I chose to switch the narrative and get some insight on my mother’s spirituality. With no hesitation I asked her, “What was the most power moment of your life?”, immediately her beautiful brown eyes had gotten bright and bold as if I had awakened something within her, in aw she responded, “Oh Wow, I have something good for this one”.

My mother then began to narrate me through a stage of her life she referred to as a transition, where she had been flight attending for about a year and she was conflicted with herself, because she knew that ultimately she did not want to be a flight attendant. In telling the story my mother explains that on a flight from Detroit, Michigan to Canada she found herself working with a flight attendant named Michael (like the arc angel) who she described to be an angel, she says, “I knew it was written in the universe for me to hold that role for a year because I met an angel on a flight and I know it was an angel because later I discovered that the person did not exist”.

Seconds after she began to disclose her clairvoyance, a phone in our background began to ring, we were so engaged, neither of us attempted to silence it as she revealed her encounters with her guardian angel. She portrays him as the most attractive man she had ever seen and recounts that they connected immediately and carried on about a various of topics but mostly their spiritual beliefs, for the duration of the flight.

During this maybe hour and a half flight, the mysterious Michael and my mother shared an intense and intellectual conversation. They shared dreams, interest, and their outlook on life overall with each other. She explained that they shared the common interest of a certain book by Sandra Brown, and the two of them distinctly discussed the novel.

My mom explains that after the flight she and Michael parted ways. The next morning on her flight back to Detroit, she discovered that same novel that they has discussed day before, named “The other side” by Sandra Brown, on her jump seat, “I immediately began to freak out.”, she said, of course due to the fact that she and her guardian angel (Michael) had shared various works of Sandra Brown and their liking to it. Once she returned to Detroit, she began to search for this mystery man in her company’s directory where she found no traces of him.

My mother expanded on this experience by added that 2 months later she had been terminated and she was having an one on one with God for hours, asking him for clarity and guidance, she says, “I talked to God for hours… I remember saying, “if you are with me, show me” and right when I said that the television just cut on”.

Later on, in the interview she connects this moment with the reason I was conceived 7 months later when I asked, “who do you feel most connected to spiritually out of your family and friends?”. The connection in these times of her life really helped me realize why my mother has called me her life saver all my life. In retrospect, my mother connects my being born to her life being put back on track. Her guardian angel gifted her with me. I believe my birth did add balance to our family, now that I am grown, I see how much I have held our family connections and dynamic together.

While interviewing my mother, I discovered that she is extremely in touch with her intuitive senses. This urged me to research what clairvoyance was and how it connected to the aspects of spiritual experiences.

On my search for information I came upon a website for a clairvoyance sanctuary which described exactly what clairvoyance was. The article, “What is Clairvoyance?”, was published by the Clairvoyant Center of Hawaii which is a sanctuary and physic school. They offer clairvoyant training and readings; this alone makes the source credible, being that this center specializes in the subject matter.

Substantially, this source gives clarity on the clairvoyant event my interviewee experienced. It illuminates the fact spirits and energy can resonate themselves through inanimate objects. Overall, this article underlines the meaning and background of clairvoyance, shining a light on its appearance. The website said clairvoyance means, “clear-seeing”, it is intertwined with your intuitive 6th sense and spiritual eye which allows one to see energy.

Clairvoyants can use their 6th charka to resonate energy in the form of colors, pictures, images, light, and movement. To be clairvoyant is a psychic ability. Everyone has the capability to experience the powerful and magical realms of clairvoyance. It influences individuals to be in touch with their interior being and it also influences the decisions we make. Either people are in touch with their clairvoyance or they believe this theory is imaginary.

I now know my mother on a completely different level. She is someone who overcame tremendous grief and misguidance in her youth. My mom has taken her experiences and wrongdoings to learn and succeed in life. Unlike most, she has not let life break her down. My mother is the most selfless person I know.

Doing this interview helped me understand why she has done everything possible to ensure she can help those who are at their lowest. She has been the storm and she is aware of how bad life can hit an individual at times. In my opinion, Yvonne Lomax has been the guardian angel to many. [l1]

My mother experienced the death of her father at the age of 18 weeks after she graduated from high school. My grandfather died of a heart attack at the age of 73 while at church in the pulpit. I remember my mother telling me the story about how her sister and she declined going to church with their father on this Sunday. We shortly discussed the death of her father and how it affected her freshman year of college tremendously.

I wanted to further understand how the death of a parent truly effects the adolescence. While researching I discovered an article written by two psychology professors titled, “Understanding Grief and Loss in Children”, the article taught and analyzed how adolescence deal with grief. Secondly, the article references credible sources from child psychologists, and it was published by the ACA Knowledge Center.

This source exemplifies the problem in the way our society shelters children from death by not providing them ways to cope. In a land of make believe, children are not capable of feeling depressed or experiencing trauma. This exact theory contributes to the fundamental problem that affects the way our society deals with death; we have a death-phobic culture. Using code names for death like “passed away”.

Greif and loss can occur not only when it is the end of something but also when there is a disruption in a child’s life, such as marriage, divorce, death, rand relocating. Mourning can include keeping the spirits of the deceased alive, not just merely processing the experience. The types of loses children can experience varies tremendously, this includes both tangible and intangible loses. Children should be provided with proper interventions that will allow them to sufficiently process their feelings. Essentially, this article connects the traumas my interviewee must have experienced after the loss of her father.

The entirety of the interview with my mother mainly focuses on the how the blueprint of her life has unfolded over the years. My mom’s extreme faith that everything happens for a reason influenced me to do some research on universal synchronization where I discovered 2 sources that describe the reality of coincidence and universal alignment.

The first source, “Coming to Terms with Coincidence” was accessed on the KSU research database, the article was written by Ralph Lewis, M.D., who is a psychiatrist at Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre in Toronto, Canada. The article illustrates the distinct connection between life events and destiny. For example, the article touches on a flight attendant who by fate was not on board her normal flight which crashed into the twin towers.

My interviewee discussed complications in her flight schedule in her story about meeting her spirit angel. Its shows that indeed the experiences we encounter have a deeper purpose in our journey. This article better explains the phrase "everything happens for a reason". It gives four major examples of life events that helped the individuals involved find their purpose. Things that happen in life do not happen to us by chance but because it was destined for us. Some people believe that bad things are happening because they are being punished for their wrong doings. The things that happen to you happen because that is the way God planned it to unfold in your life.

The second source was published onto a blog called “Dreamcatcher reality” by the creator who is a spiritualist and astrologist. The authors blog primarily focuses on the unspoken truths of the universe, for example, universal synchronization and fate. This article illustrates the depth to which our life experiences are connected to the universe and our destiny. It clarifies that my interviewees belief that her destiny was written in the stars is not so farfetched.

Finally, the article helps the readers gain clarity on fate and destiny. Universal Synchronization is simply described as coincidence. The events in our life are solely based on the positive energies within which we have no control over. Nothing important happens in life merely by accident. Things are aligned so that we experience the things that are supposed to happen.

Synchronicity is when the person you were just on verge of calling, calls you first. Events unfold to ultimately manifest the inevitable. Luck and coincidence show how the universe is interconnected through matter and space. Life is a series of numerous events that are aligned for our souls’ journey.

Throughout[l2] the interview I learned that my mother has lived life to its fullest extent and took everything that it threw at her heads on with positive energy. That is why I choose the title, “Glass Half Full”, because my mother looks at the brighter side of any situation and makes the most of it. Even though life did not go as plan according to her, she still took the life God presented to her and made it the best life for herself and her children.

I discovered that everything my mother experienced in life has led to an even bigger picture. My grandfather who was all for my mother making her own decisions died right before her first year in college, causing her not to be able to make the choice for a school on her own and although she didn’t attend the university she intended on, she met my brothers dad at the school she eventually ended up at. In retrospect, my brother’s existence was dependent on this life decision.

To second this, my mom describes how during the period of her being a flight attendant, she was not exactly excited with having to pursue this career but at the end of the day it seemed like her main purpose for this brief period in her journey was to become in touch with her spirit guides so she could transition into her next chapter in life.

I understand that a couple of months after experiencing a connection with her guardian angel on a flight, my mother was terminated and 7 months after that I was conceived. Within these few months, my mother received several signs while praying and asking God to guide her down the right path and to send her a miracle. Ultimately, this interview with my mother revealed to me how everything my mother has encountered is connected to a bigger purpose.

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