#muse / no harm ever came from ... reading a book

[disasteregyptologist]

endless edits / rick & evy 1/? - mutuals may reblog

[disasteregyptologist]

Just to note for historical accuracy, the ancient Egyptians wouldn't take out your heart during the mummification process as they believed it links with intellect, personality and memory, it was considered the most important of the internal organs. It could reveal the person's true character, even after death, so the belief went, and therefore the heart was left in the deceased's body during mummification. Hence the weighing of the feather trial..

"Let me get this straight. They ripped out your guts and they stuffed them in jars?"

THE MUMMY (1999) dir. Stephen Sommers

[alaynasansa]

Sansa watched him walk off, his body swaying heavily from side to side with every step, like something from a grotesquerie. He speaks more gently than Joffrey, she thought, but the queen spoke to me gently too. He's still a Lannister, her brother and Joff's uncle, and no friend. Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again

“I...” Sansa did not know what to say. Is it a trick ? Will he punish me if I tell the truth ? She stared at the dwarf's brutal bulging brow, the hard black eye and the shrewd green one, the crooked teeth and wiry beard. “I only want to be loyal.”

“Loyal,” the dwarf mused, “and far from any Lannisters. I can scarce blame you for that. When I was your age, I wanted the same thing.” He smiled. “They tell me you visit the godswood every day. What do you pray for, Sansa ?”

I pray for Robb's victory and Joffrey's death... and for home. For Winterfell. “I pray for an end to the fighting.”

“We'll have that soon enough. There will be another battle, between your brother Robb and my lord father, and that will settle this issue.”

Robb will beat him, Sansa thought. He beat your uncle and your brother Jaime, he'll beat your father too.

It was as if her face were an open book, so easily did the dwarf read her hopes. “Do not take Oxcross too much to heart, my lady,” he told her, not unkindly. “A battle is not a war, and my lord father is assuredly not my uncle Stafford. The next time you visit the godswood, pray that your brother has the wisdom to bend the knee. Once the north returns to the king's peace, I mean to send you home.” He hopped down off the window seat and said, “You may sleep here tonight. I'll give you some of my own men as a guard, some Stone Crows perhaps—”

“No,” Sansa blurted out, aghast. If she was locked in the Tower of the Hand, guarded by the dwarf's men, how would Ser Dontos ever spirit her away from freedom ?

“Would you prefer Black Ears ? I'll give you Chella if a woman would make you more at ease.”

“Please, no, my lord, the wildlings frighten me.”

He grinned. “Me as well. But more to the point, they frighten Joffrey and that nest of sly vipers and lickspittle dogs he calls a Kingsguard. With Chella or Timett by your side, no one would dare offer you harm.”

“I would sooner return to my own bead.” A lie came to her suddenly, but it seemed so right that she blurted it out at once. “This tower was where my father's men were slain. Their ghosts would give me terrible dreams, and I would see their blood wherever I looked.”

Tyrion Lannister studied her face. “I am no stranger to nightmares, Sansa. Perhaps you are wiser than I knew. Permit me at least to escort you safely back to your own chambers”

Sansa Week 2024 : day five — pawn to player

[accessible-tumbling]

Video description: The Quora site is displayed and the narrator, who has a British accent and is speaking quickly and excitedly, opens by reading from it: "My MacBook Air weighs 2.3 pounds. If I download more files on it, will it make it heavier?

"This is Quora," he continues. "A place where once grand intellectual questions would be mused over. But if you recall, 2 years ago we sadly bid farewell to our friend, Yahoo Answers, a place where those sorts of questions didn't happen, and in that time it seems many Yahoo users have made Quora their new home.

"Do chimpanzees get pregnant? Does anyone live on the sun? How high do planes fly when landing? What percentage of people are going to die? Do lesbians get periods?"

(A response to that question is read in a gruff tone:) "Oh, come on! Where the hell are you getting that question?"

"You are sleeping with your partner and suddenly realize that he/she is a ghost. What would you do? Are there werewolves in Texas? Why does the sausage have two ends? What happens to the time it takes to actually time travel into the past/future? Which hole does an actress push out a baby in a birth sense?"

(Another answer is read:) "She doesn't. She acts."

"I heard that in the Middle Ages, nobles used to wipe their butts with ducklings. Is that right?"

(Response, gruffly:) "No!"

"Is it true that pregnant women should not sleep during a lunar or solar eclipse as it may cause harm to the unborn?"

(Response:) "No. That's the dumbest thing I ever heard."

"Can I sue Germany for putting my grandfather in prison for 7 years in the second world war?"

(Response:) "No, no, no, no, no!"

"Can you think of a sentence that contains the words 'book' and 'crabs'?"

(Response:) "Well, yes, I can."

"Why does the 'bros' abbreviation for 'brothers' end in 's' instead of 'th'?"

(Response:) "Because that would spell 'broth'."

"Do rich people get embarrassed that their servants know what their stuff in the toilet looks like?"

(Response:) "This is a very weird question."

"What happens when we wash vessel and use it with water in which a lizard was dead? Is it poisonous? What can we do?"

(Response:) "Uhh..."

"Why does the United States promote homosexuality and not consider what happened in the petrified village of Pompeii?"

(Response:) "Wha…?"

"How can I have sex with Asia?"

(Response:) "Pretty sure you mean an Asian girl."

"Is Israel on the world map? Are the Irish really from Ireland? My son speaks Arabic. (in a panicked, shouting tone:) What do I do? Does India have airports?"

(Response:) "Putin came to India in 2014 swimming in the ocean. I have a photo to prove." (A flash of a picture of Putin swimming can be seen briefly at this point in the video.)

"Where do animals live? Why are things? What is my date of birth? Do you know a microscope? Real mathematicians (in all caps): I have 5 live cows and then I multiply them by 0. How then do you come and tell me that I end up with 0? Where did the 5 go? Which is larger: 0 or 2+7? Math math what is angle?

(Narrator comment: "I do believe this Quora user was intending to ask 'what are the names of the most powerful angels?' but…) What are the names of moist powerful angles? I'm an atheist who believes in God. What should I do? Why do atheists watch fiction movies? During airplane turbulence, how do atheists keep calm?"

(Narrator comment: "This question I could only find an old link for, even Quora went nowhere, not even, that is way too stupid:) How do atheists know what foods are 'sweet' versus 'sour' or 'bitter'?

"I am 11 and stand at 5 foot 2. Am I obese? Do celebrities fart? What's the meaning of a single white egg left at my door? (narrator's comment: that is weird.)

"My mom slapped her own bum in front of me what does that mean? Is this correct, 'similarvgbhujkljhgtyhujk'? Why is Zelda so 'thicc' in Breath of the Wild? Do demons always say 'I am a demon' when they are introduced? Is it possible to balance your entire body on your penis?"

(Response:) " Yes, but I'm scared of heights."

"I saw the cop the gay eating a raw bird in my backyard. What should I do?" (Narrator comment: "I became a bit obsessed with this question, it's so indecipherable and googled it for clues to find apparently there was much debate on the site about whether this was a weird autocorrect from 'cat'. Which word was supposed to be cat?")

"Can deaf people laugh out loud? Can deaf people do surfing? How do def people know what facial expressions look like and how they're used outside of American Sign Language (ASL)? If so, how do they learn about them if there's no way to see someone else make that face?" (Narrator comment: "I mean, I don't think there's any intelligent questions actually left on this site, is there? Who's asking 'Can music cause candle to light?' Obviously, no!")

"Do people still eat mashed potatoes? (Yes!) Can semen travel up your foot? (No,, it cannot.) Is the word 'stay asleep' alwasy spelled 'J'? (I don't even know what that means.) Do lobsters pee from their faces? (Uh, ugh, are you mad? Obviously no!)"

(Response:) "Yes, as others have pointed out, many crustaceans have two different types of excretory organs, both near the head. Usually only one is used, depending on the age of the animal. Lobsters and crabs, etc, use their urine smell like cats, to mark territory, warn rivals, etc." (Uh..oh.)"

The screen goes white and the scene transitions to footage of the narrator walking up to a door. He places an egg on the mat, then runs away.

End video description.

[thirtecnth]

SOBBED for bev

SOBBED : a scene from my muse's past in which they broke down in tears

tw: death

The day began like any other. Beverly arrived on time, unpacked her things, and read her notes before class… She had only been at the job as the high school English and History teacher for a few months now but every single name of her students had been engraved in her memory. She had even beautifully printed each of their names on their chosen desk in her classroom.

Many of them had recently lost their parents, friends, or family members… They needed a gentle person to hold them. It was more of a responsibility than she ever thought she would have but she was more than happy to take up that role.

This was especially true when she noticed one of the children, a girl named Grace, was often found reading in her classroom during lunch. She never actually ate but just stayed there-- quiet and unassuming. Beverly had a sneaking suspicion that the teen wasn’t very popular and that her parents either didn’t have or didn’t care to give her any money for lunch. It was her classroom where the girl felt safest.

So, soon after that, Beverly had begun to bring in supplies for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Grace would eat and they would discuss one of the many books Beverly had assigned her. Sometimes they would even read together and laugh at the silly moments in the written words. In a way, this young girl was one of Beverly’s first friends in Huntsville. To the young girl, Beverly was like a mother or older sister.

She saw so much potential there for the world. A new generation.

So on this particular day, when lunch came and went but there was no sign of Grace— she became worried. The girl had never missed a single day of lunch with her. She hoped for the best, maybe someone invited her to eat with them, but when she wasn’t in class either, her heart felt— uneasy.

It was one of the other teachers that gave her the news.

Grace's parents had been irresponsible with the windows. Left one open. The three of them perished. Grace included.

She was the first student that Beverly ever lost. All she could think of was Grace's soft cheeks as she laughed. A ringing developed in her ears and her body became stiff and rigid as she imagined those monsters tearing apart her perfect young mind. A girl who had dreams and a beautiful heart… So delicate she wouldn't harm a fly. Torn apart like she hadn't even mattered.

When the other teacher closed her classroom door, Beverly fell to her knees and sobbed. It was as if all of it finally caught up to her. She was stuck here, in this town, without her family, with zero contact, and entirely alone. She might die here the same way herself. Worst of all, Grace already had. It was unfair. All of it.

Her body shook with sobs and trembled with grief. Her vision became unclear as her mind panicked from the lack of steady breath. She was there for hours. No one came to take her home and she hadn't wanted to leave. She stayed there that night.

Even today, Beverly still has the Polaroid she and Grace took together in the corner of her chalkboard, and supplies for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are always ready in case anyone needs them for lunch. Grace would be proud.

[stingslikeabee]

[ pluck ]  –  for the sender to pluck a foreign object ( twig / leaf / etc. ) out of the receiver muses’ hair.

the intimacy of hands . accepting

The Highgarden of Archades was a restricted area within the capital - Melissa had discovered shortly upon arriving to the city that only those with sufficient proof of their status could afford to go there, using the elusive sandalwood chops as a token of passage. If the dancer had been in town as a visitor, it was very likely that she would have never made it to most beautiful part of the entire capital.

However, when one had the sponsoring of the Marquis of Ondore and also the title of a mistress to a judge magister fond of flaunting his own wealth, Melissa had no shortage of funds to acquire as many as she needed to travel to the most isolated and highest place in all of Archades available to the local nobility.

It had also become the favorite meeting spot with Gabranth - or Liam, as he had asked for her to call him whenever they were meeting for social purposes. One of their first encounters over shared sweet baked treats had happened there, and the magistrate was quick to notice that the Bhujerban enjoyed the altitude and the company of vegetation in a city otherwise so hostile to foreigners and eccentricities.

Besides, given how expensive entrance to the terrace grounds could be, they were often deserted - particularly after sunset. Gabranth had unlimited access to the place given his position within the imperial army, and sometimes headed there after his own shifts - Melissa wasn't sure if it meant that he hoped to find her; but the dancer lingered for as long as she could just in case he had the time to visit.

Two foreigners, bonding out of mutual pining for something located so very far from Archades - but also bound to the city for different reasons. As much as Melissa's own agenda remained hidden and close to her heart, it was difficult to say that Gabranth was not earning a special spot himself. His concern, the gentleness, the understanding in hazel eyes - there was so much loneliness Melissa could withstand while pretending to adore her official lover.

Judge magister Gabranth - Liam - represented genuine attachment and connection in a sea of deception, even if the biggest liar between the two of them was the Bhujerban herself.

On that particular night, the man indeed came to the gardens - the sound of his armor had grown to be familiar, enough for Melissa to lift her eyes from the book that she had been reading under the shade of a large, fruit-bearing tree. It was perfect timing, really; a few more minutes and daylight would go away completely, making her task impossible and forcing the dancer to go home.

Dusk was a beautiful moment to witness from the gardens - and as Melissa watched Gabranth approach, the judge removing his helmet and tucking it under an arm, the Bhujerban felt lips tugging upwards out of their own volition and a sigh escaping them as well. He looked almost like something holy - his figure framed by the sunshine that lingered behind him, as if Gabranth was some miraculous bearer of good news.

Truthfully, his presence alone was worth it, even more so when he sat down with Melissa after a cordial greeting. He was ever careful with the edges of his armor, maneuvering in a way to avoid harming the dancer and the colored silks of her attire. With both of them on the ground, it was as if there was no hierarchy - no sense of mandatory respect to be demonstrated but for the one a hume should have for another.

But before Melissa could say anything, Liam frowned and reached for her - a gloved hand went to the dancer's dark tresses, gently picking something that was nestled in her hair. The Bhujerban's curious gaze followed his motions, chuckling at the unveiling of a single, fallen blossom from the tree above. It was not one Melissa was familiar with, but the petals were colored in a soft orange hue that reminded her of the setting sun.

"Allow me to do it properly," Gabranth mused with a gentle smile, carefully placing the flower then between Melissa's hair and left ear as many young girls liked to do with the favorite blossoms. The dancer hummed fondly when he was finished, even if she lacked a mirror to check her reflection - the new light in the judge's eyes told her plenty.

"Thank you, Liam. I would be making a fool of myself going home if not for your timely intervention," the Bhujerban declared with some added flair for a playful purpose, and a chuckle came from the magistrate. His voice, darker and richer with amusement, sounded sweeter than any birdsong that had kept Melissa company during the afternoon.

"I am always at your service."

"Then stay with me until the sun dies at the horizon? I would like to remain here with you for as long as we are able," the woman asked, hopeful eyes meeting the magistrate's and seeing the agreement there, followed by a definitive nod of his head and his own figure adjusting itself, leaning against the large tree himself. For a while, none of them talked - but Melissa's hand did move over the grass to reach for his, brushing over the fabric of his protective gloves.

After a moment, Gabranth's palm turned - and he held the Bhujerban's digits with his own, entwining their fingers with decisiveness. At that point, Melissa thought, there was no going back. Despite her role as a spy for the Resistance and the figurative hold of judge Ghis over the dancer, her heart had welcomed an unexpected guest.

It would mean risking many things - but the woman was not strong enough to turn away the one person who saw her beyond the pretty veils and enchanting music. Trusting that no other souls would wander into the garden, Melissa moved to the side, dropping her head to rest gently over his shoulder, carefully doing so in order to avoid the sharper edges of Gabranth's protectives.

And for a few blessed moments, Melissa was able to forget about everything else and focus just on the rapid thrumming of her heart - out of affection instead of rage for once.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

16th September >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs 

on

Monday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time.

Monday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the feria (Monday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading 1 Corinthians 11:17-26,33 If each one hurries to be first, it is not the Lord's Supper you are eating.

On the subject of instructions, I cannot say that you have done well in holding meetings that do you more harm than good. In the first place, I hear that when you all come together as a community, there are separate factions among you, and I half believe it – since there must no doubt be separate groups among you, to distinguish those who are to be trusted. The point is, when you hold these meetings, it is not the Lord’s Supper that you are eating, since when the time comes to eat, everyone is in such a hurry to start his own supper that one person goes hungry while another is getting drunk. Surely you have homes for eating and drinking in? Surely you have enough respect for the community of God not to make poor people embarrassed? What am I to say to you? Congratulate you? I cannot congratulate you on this. For this is what I received from the Lord, and in turn passed on to you: that on the same night that he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread, and thanked God for it and broke it, and he said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this as a memorial of me.’ In the same way he took the cup after supper, and said, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Whenever you drink it, do this as a memorial of me.’ Until the Lord comes, therefore, every time you eat this bread and drink this cup, you are proclaiming his death. So to sum up, my dear brothers, when you meet for the Meal, wait for one another.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 39(40):7-10,17

R/ Proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.

You do not ask for sacrifice and offerings, but an open ear. You do not ask for holocaust and victim. Instead, here am I.

R/ Proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.

In the scroll of the book it stands written that I should do your will. My God, I delight in your law in the depth of my heart.

R/ Proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.

Your justice I have proclaimed in the great assembly. My lips I have not sealed; you know it, O Lord.

R/ Proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.

O let there be rejoicing and gladness for all who seek you. Let them ever say: ‘The Lord is great’, who love your saving help.

R/ Proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.

Gospel Acclamation Psalm 118:27

Alleluia, alleluia! Make me grasp the way of your precepts, and I will muse on your wonders. Alleluia!

Or: John 3:16

Alleluia, alleluia! God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son: everyone who believes in him has eternal life. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 7:1-10 Give the word, and my servant will be healed.

When Jesus had come to the end of all he wanted the people to hear, he went into Capernaum. A centurion there had a servant, a favourite of his, who was sick and near death. Having heard about Jesus he sent some Jewish elders to him to ask him to come and heal his servant. When they came to Jesus they pleaded earnestly with him. ‘He deserves this of you’ they said ‘because he is friendly towards our people; in fact, he is the one who built the synagogue.’ So Jesus went with them, and was not very far from the house when the centurion sent word to him by some friends: ‘Sir,’ he said ‘do not put yourself to trouble; because I am not worthy to have you under my roof; and for this same reason I did not presume to come to you myself; but give the word and let my servant be cured. For I am under authority myself, and have soldiers under me; and I say to one man: Go, and he goes; to another: Come here, and he comes; to my servant: Do this, and he does it.’ When Jesus heard these words he was astonished at him and, turning round, said to the crowd following him, ‘I tell you, not even in Israel have I found faith like this.’ And when the messengers got back to the house they found the servant in perfect health.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs 

(Liturgical Colour: Red. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading 2 Corinthians 4:7-15 Such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us.

We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us. We are in difficulties on all sides, but never cornered; we see no answer to our problems, but never despair; we have been persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down, but never killed; always, wherever we may be, we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may always be seen in our body. Indeed, while we are still alive, we are consigned to our death every day, for the sake of Jesus, so that in our mortal flesh the life of Jesus, too, may be openly shown. So death is at work in us, but life in you. But as we have the same spirit of faith that is mentioned in scripture – I believed, and therefore I spoke – we too believe and therefore we too speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus to life will raise us with Jesus in our turn, and put us by his side and you with us. You see, all this is for your benefit, so that the more grace is multiplied among people, the more thanksgiving there will be, to the glory of God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 125(126):1-6

R/ Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

When the Lord delivered Zion from bondage, it seemed like a dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, on our lips there were songs.

R/ Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

The heathens themselves said: ‘What marvels the Lord worked for them!’ What marvels the Lord worked for us! Indeed we were glad.

R/ Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

Deliver us, O Lord, from our bondage as streams in dry land. Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

R/ Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

They go out, they go out, full of tears, carrying seed for the sowing: they come back, they come back, full of song, carrying their sheaves.

R/ Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

Gospel Acclamation 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed be God, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows. Alleluia!

Gospel John 17:11-19 Father, keep those you have given me true to your name.

Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said:

‘Holy Father, keep those you have given me true to your name, so that they may be one like us. While I was with them, I kept those you had given me true to your name. I have watched over them and not one is lost except the one who chose to be lost, and this was to fulfil the scriptures. But now I am coming to you and while still in the world I say these things to share my joy with them to the full. I passed your word on to them, and the world hated them, because they belong to the world no more than I belong to the world. I am not asking you to remove them from the world, but to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world, and for their sake I consecrate myself so that they too may be consecrated in truth.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/democracy-for-dummies/

Democracy For Dummies

I know him.  When he was a teenager, I crawled around in his head as his English Teacher.  Sadly, months ago, his wife of many years died unexpectedly.  A man in his 70s, he fell into a well of grief so deep he considered joining her.  I held my breath as he struggled to find his balance. Recovery came by inches, but it came.  Eventually, I could stop worrying. Still, reading his comments on social media, I wondered if the residue of his grief had turned to hate.    He’s not a bad man nor a foolish one, but he seemed to need a reservoir of anger to contain his misery.  Like our 45th President, Donald Trump, he focused on immigrants. They were criminals and rapists, he said, echoing the words of the former president. I told him my mother was an immigrant.  But he refused to connect the dots between his trust in me and my Costa Rican parent. She takes no offense. She’s dead. I could tell him that as the child of an immigrant, his prejudice offends me. But that’s not true, exactly. I’m not diminished by his bias. Instead, I feel pity for him, aware that his hatred burns inside him like hot tar and that he’s injuring himself more than those he wishes to harm. Self-torment is a condition common among most haters. Over time, their fury drives out other emotions. Compassion lost, they cling to their malice like voyagers tossed overboard at sea. Hatred becomes their ballast and their North Star. It distracts them from their disappointments.  It explains why fame and fortune have eluded them. When they hear the word welfare, they are quick to retort, “Nobody ever gave me a handout.”    The statement is false, of course. These malcontents received a free education. Their water is drinkable, and their roads and bridges are maintained.    True, these benefits come from public taxes.  But federal money isn’t shared equally. Some parts of the country receive a larger handout than others. Conservative states tend to be low-income states, and they pay less in federal income taxes, while people who live in those states are more likely to benefit from government support programs such as Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, or SNAP, a nutrition assistance program.  My former student who is white and others of his ilk enjoy additional benefits as well. They can sit at a  lunch counter or use a public bathroom without fear of attack.  The employment they seek comes with the promise of advancement, while Immigrants take jobs so poorly paid, they must work more than one to put beans on the table.     The source of white contempt isn’t the absence of privilege.  It’s fear.  Forced to live cheek-by-jowl with foreigners, working-class white Americans …are more worried that they or their families will become victims of violent crime…they are more likely to live in neighborhoods with higher levels of social disorder… are also much more likely to believe that their families will fall victim to terrorism. What’s lost to their understanding is that immigrants share these fears. Yet rather than join hands for the betterment of all, those who are native-born chose to pledge their allegiance to the superrich. Donald Trump never knew a door that wasn’t open to him, unlike them. Yet somehow, he’s convinced these followers that he feels their pain and that he stands as a bulwark against systems that oppress them both. One of his supporters recently smiled into a television camera to say he’d take Trump’s autocracy over the ballot box any day.  “Sometimes people need to be spanked,” he avowed. Spankings aren’t meant for people who think like him, of course. They’re meant for people who believe in equality, diversity, and inclusion. He can’t envision a time when he might need a system of laws to protect him. His ignorance makes democracy fragile and joined with the ignorance of others, he encourages enough civil unrest to invite tyranny.  In this world, democracy has few friends, already. Even Nature abhors it. With few exceptions, democracy scarcely exists in the wild. Even so, my eighty-seven years on the planet have convinced me that though imperfect, democracy is the best way to protect the individual from the tyranny of the powerful.  E. Jean Carroll and her suit against billionaire Donald Trump is an example. Who doubts that absolute power corrupts absolutely? Those who seek it are the least to be trusted. As individuals, we accept the yoke of government as part of a social contract, relinquishing some rights in exchange for greater collective benefits. To this end, democracy best suits the individual’s purpose. Founded on the notion of equality, it entitles everyone to keep an eye on everyone else.

[tactful-kind-daedra]

@letsriddlemethislucifer // continued:

Send 💖 for my muse to give yours a hug || Accepting!From: @tactful-kind-daedraTo: Xander!

--- He wasn't one to give much physical affection-- at least, not very often. However, there were times he did indeed know his words weren't enough to express his feelings; especially after returning from a long excursion. Once the man was done revising recent findings within the northern region, the King was quick in his steps to leave his office. He made his way down the corridors, and up the stairway towards his chambers. It was around that time in the evening when Daedra was there, deep into her own studies without a head space for time. She must not have known he'd returned early; of course he was a little purposeful with such lack of news. He'd wanted to make it a surprise; more so to the point he had carefully removed his armor so to walk as quietly as he could without alerting the young lady. After carefully shutting the door closed, he took his time scanning around the place before locking onto the familiar redhead's back. One step, then another, and another... After he knew he was well within the clear, even to be mere inches from her, he reached out-- And caught her attention with a bouquet of flowers. He was leaned over her ever so carefully, enough so if she were to flinch, she wouldn't stumble backwards and harm herself.

"Is this book so interesting? You haven't forgotten to eat, have you?" He asked, before carefully wrapping his arms around her small frame, in a warm embrace. A deep breath in, and a gentle exhale. He knew he was home.

Daedra was keeping diligently to her reading. Moreso, making notes and picking up on the subtle region differences that she was meant to be aware of. Tiring as it was, it was a necessarily 'evil'. She had a lot of catching up to do, of learning such intricacies that were almost second thought to people who grew up in Nohr. It was something that required a taxing amount of focus from herself, which is why she liked to do it strictly when Xander was away on business.

If all her mental focus was on important study, she didn't grace herself room to ponder other things. To over worry...So, it seemed justifiable to bury herself in the task when she was left to her own devices, and asked to remain behind. And, like any task she did, Daedra put everything she could into completing it.

So the redhead was relatively unaware as the door of the suite opened and shut. Not used to his unweighted attire, his presence barely registered. In fact, the only thing that the young woman was aware of, was the slight smell of flowers. Unusual for Nohr so... perhaps it was a maid bringing her tea. That was nice, how thoughtful--

Until a burst of color loomed into her line of vision. Daedra pushed back in her seat suddenly, her back hitting against the cushion behind her as her eyes went wide in surprise. She didn't have time to process much about the flowers though, when she realized what they were. For a deep and familiar voice is where all her focus was drawn to. Daedra knew that voice very well, and it was one she'd been anticipating to hear since they'd parted, even if the time was mildly brief.

"Xander--!"

She could say little more than than, before the man greeted her with a hug, strong arms gently wrapping around her. There was nothing to obstruct them from touching, no armor, no excess finery. It was one of the rare times where her surprise didn't serve as a hinderance to her.

Daedra wasted no time dropping her quill and spinning around and up from her seat. Xander was still stooped from his hug, so Daedra had full opportunity to wrap her arms tightly around his neck in response. The redhead mewled in pure joy to have his so close. She couldn't pause to comment on the beautiful flowers he brought, for the time being. Her focus was locked elsewhere.

"You're back!! You came home early," she exclaimed, obvious as it was. "Welcome home!!"

[sonorous-eisfyl]

Oltura...

---- It's definitely not a name he's read in any books on myths, legends and what other tales of Elders people have written up. In all its fairness, though- the fact that the legend itself seemed to have been severely wrong as it was passed down alongside being from a more rider populated region meant it was already highly unlikely it'd be recorded for his crowd.

"I wonder if an Elder like that can fear..."

It was possible, right? No matter how strong or powerful you were, when faced with the threat of death you'd have to feel something- at least, that's what he thinks. Frosting goes back to silence for a small while after musing that out loud, looking down at the book as he thought. There was a bit of information to be taking in- but the fact that Mari and Ratha had gone through so much... he couldn't really imagine how much they've been hurt. To be locked away like that... he understood how horrible that was.

It's not a memory of similar experience he'd like resurfacing anytime soon

"I guess if... if you ever wanted to, the researchers could probably write a log about Oltura?" he offers a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. An odd offer, but those scholars seemed to have a wish to be recording something as insane as that Elder.

"They'd record the legends too, though they'll probably keep you around for hours on end,"

Frosting raises a hand up in a somewhat dismissive gesture to the last statement, keeping the smile despite the pain of recalling their first meeting.

"I-it's-- it's alright! I mean, I... I'm a little relieved you didn't try to start hitting me back then...?"

A statement with... implications, if thought about. He was genuinely kind of ready to be physically harmed in that encounter for his mistake. Mari could probably wager where that idea came from, seeing her involvement in that entire event. The hunter quickly moves on from that sentence.

"You were completely justified in being mad, and... um, even if everything before then didn't happen... I'd imagine anyone would've reacted the same if their companion got shot by a random person, even on accident- so I guess I deserved it,"

"Other than that- I... I, uh... I'm, sorry all of that happened to you. Neither of you should've gone through any of it,"

"WELL . . . THAT'S BECAUSE EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHERS forgot it even existed until it was almost too late . . . an Elder Dragon so ancient, that the last recording of its defeat barely survived to this day." And she shrugs a bit, casually waving off the heavy weight that Frosting imagined she carried once. She was humble like that, and perhaps too good at bearing so much pressure . . . she simply thought she was meant to bear it.

"The monster's name was Oltura. Some . . . massive entity that preys specifically on rathalos to reach adulthood. Apparently it ravaged my island a long time ago, and it was a razewing, like my Red, who defeated it before its destruction could spread."

"But people forgot about Oltura. And others with really, really twisted ideals took the truth and manipulated everyone else into believing someone different. It's . . . because of them that Red suffered so much. He became a scapegoat."

Mari's features narrow in unpointed disgust, her gaze falling onto the floor as she recalls sour and bitter memories. "They condemned my Ratha. Chained him up, caged him . . . only to learn it'd all been a lie. And he nearly lost his life for it." She snarled. "I promised I'd protect him, and I almost failed him. As for Oltura . . ."

Frosting had asked what it was like, facing the destructive power of the ancient beast. "I could feel . . . something akin to malice, or at least, I thought I did. Now I'm not so sure. I think all she wanted was to survive, but maybe she was also angry. Even if that wasn't the case, her existence would have destroyed the world as we know it. It was with Red's help that we slayed her."

And at last, the teen sighs, looking remorseful. "The reason I snapped at you . . . I know we're beyond that point now, but I just assumed you were like the people who still believed my Red would hurt people, or were otherwise ready to use him for darker intentions. We've had to deal with both kinds, I'm afraid. I'm sorry that I yelled at you."

[disasteregyptologist]

RE-DOING MY TAGS SOO ... TAG DUMP FOR EVELYN CARNAHAN

[ladywynne]

Top Ten Characters I'd kiss for Christmas or New Year's.

Thanks to @riderj123 for the tag! It's never too late, right?

In no particular order.

Jaskier (season 2) - I'm scared too. I'm scared that one day, the muses will stop speaking to me. Because who are we when we can no longer do the one thing we were put on this Continent to do?

Ned Stark - We Can't Afford To Fight A War Amongst Ourselves.

Roger MacKenzie - I will always sing for you.

Jon Snow - I Swore A Vow To The Night's Watch. If I Don't Take My Own Words Seriously, What Sort Of Lord Of Winterfell Would I Be?

Geralt of Rivia - If I have to choose between one evil or another, I'd rather not choose at all.

Sandor Clegane - I could keep you safe. They’re all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.

Din Djarin - I'll see you again. I promise.

Rick O'Connell - Yeah, right, and no harm ever came from reading a book. You remember how that one went?

Peter Quill - What should we do next: Something good, something bad? Bit of both?

1. Jamie Fraser - Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul.

[hybridanafrost]

*Drives up to speaker* Hello, can I get a side order of 2 and 3 for Wenny and 8 and 19 for Odette? Thank you!☺

I gotchu, homie!

Link to the questions is here for whoever wants to ask me about my BC OCs:

Eirwen:

2. Drawing from the language of flowers, what flower symbolizes them?

So Wenny's birthday is in July and one of the birth flowers of July is the water lily which means purity and innocence.

However, I also have another answer to that question and it is the amaryllis flower. Amaryllis are symbolic of a hard won success, particularly in artistic endeavors. Giving an artist a bunch of amaryllis flowers is said to encourage both their creative muse and their achievements and strength in the arts. Wenny is a sweet and innocent girl but she is also very creative and driven.

3. What real life animal would they be represented by?

So I was thinking of cute animals and then I remembered the fact that cheetahs are so damned anxious that they need service dogs in order to remain calm enough in captivity to breed. And that's what Eirwen is, she is actually a dangerous cat, but she does more harm to herself by being so stressed out.

Odette:

8. Which of the seven heavenly virtues are they associated with? Do they embody that virtue or are they trying to learn it?

So the virtue Odette best embodies is diligence. No one can ever call her lazy, if anything she's a borderline workaholic. Once her mind is set on something she goes out and does it. All those books she reads? Research. All to better understand and learn things that will help her with whatever goals she is trying to achieve.

19. Which of the four temperaments are they?

At first glance? Sanguine. Odette has a people-person persona and is very charming. But this took years of practice, she was very melancholic as a kid before she came out of her shell. So she is actually a blend of the two.

"When the Sanguine and the Melancholy natural tendencies are combined, it produces a people-person who is sensitive, creative, and detail-oriented.

The Sanguine-Melancholy needs to be with people most of the time, but some of the time they need to be alone. When alone they will likely think, review, plan, and be creative. They need information, time to think, and a plan; they function best, and more effectively, when they have a detailed plan.

They often have difficulty going to sleep because they are thinking too much; reviewing, planning, fretting, or creating."

Here's a link about temperament blends:

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Want You Back

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (little violence, little blood)

Original Idea: Exes-to-Lovers is kinda an underrated trope, when it’s done right.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is... 2,833 words. I wish I could say I’m sorry for it being long but I’m not. Have fun! @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“Oh shoot—hide me!” I hissed, ducking behind Daisy. She looked at me in confusion before glancing around the party.

She rolled her eyes. “Girl, you haven’t dated Jason in like a year. Can’t you at least try to be civil?”

“Oh trust me, I’d love nothing more than to be civil. Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to get back together with him. I thought we made each other happy. But he kept so many secrets and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who can’t be honest with me. We broke up so… explosively that I’m not sure we can speak nicely to each other,” I replied. “Just… block his view of me while I sneak into Jessie’s room, okay?”

Daisy heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. But hiding from him won’t do you any good.”

“It’ll do us both a world of good if it means I don’t have to talk to him.”

Daisy did as I asked and blocked Jason’s view of me until we got to the stairs. I bolted up them two at a time and ducked into Jessie’s room. The door had been closed but unlocked. Once I shut myself inside, I leaned against it and sighed.

The bookcase in Jessie’s room was more meant for displaying knick-knacks than holding books, so a quick glance at her collection revealed nothing worth reading. I sat on the floor next to her bed, on her fuzzy pink rug, and stared at the screensaver on her computer monitor—a bunch of bubbles floating around and bumping into each other, changing colors.

Why was Jason here? Jessie knew he and I fell out over a year ago. Did she invite him? Did her brother? That seemed more likely. Jessie probably didn’t even realize he was here.

No need to get angry at her.

I pulled out my phone. I had a few books on it. Kept them just for this reason. Hide from a party and make people think I was just on my phone. I didn’t trust reading fanfiction in public, so I only kept traditionally-published work in my phone’s files.

I’m not sure how long I read. A half-hour, probably.

I was startled by the door opening and closing. “Whew. Dodged a bullet there,” a familiar voice said with a sigh of relief.

I looked up in alarm.

Jason was leaning against the door, eyes closed, breathing hard.

I held still. Maybe if he didn’t hear me, he’d slip back out to the party after a moment and leave me alone—and we wouldn’t have to exchange words. I watched my phone screen dim, then shut off completely, while Jason just stood there.

He opened his eyes. His gaze landed on me. “O—oh,” he said. “I… I didn’t know you were in here.”

I nodded, slowly and once. “I figured,” I said flatly. Awkward. “Did… Jessie’s brother invite you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But… one of his ex-girlfriends from high school wouldn’t stop flirting with me. So I pretty much ran away. I thought this was a bathroom.” He gestured to the room around us. “Clearly, I was wrong.” He glanced at the door over his shoulder. “I would leave, but I don’t want that girl to come after me again. Think we can get along long enough to share?”

I pushed myself to my feet, tucking my phone in my pocket. “No need. Since I came in here to avoid you, I’ll just go back to the party—and you can stay here for the rest of the night, for all I care. I will say, though, the bathroom is the next door down.”

I moved to brush him out of the way to leave Jessie’s room, but he caught my wrist. “Babydoll, wait,” he said, voice soft.

I pulled out of his grip. “Don’t call me that. I’m not yours anymore.”

“I miss you.” His big blue eyes were giving me puppy eyes.

“I miss you too. But you know perfectly well why I broke things off. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about why he disappears all the time—and clearly can’t keep his story straight. I thought we were happy together, Jason. But when you vanish for hours at a time with no word and come back with lame excuses, how was I supposed to trust you? I doubt you were cheating on me but how would I know? And what else was I supposed to think?” I knew I wasn’t strong enough to push him away from the door—the man was 6’ and 225 pounds of muscle—but when I shoved he gave way.

I yanked open the door and shut it hard behind me. I stomped downstairs and back to the party.

“You see Jason?” Daisy asked. “He went upstairs a couple minutes ago.”

“We spoke,” I said shortly.

Daisy cringed. “Went that well, huh?”

“Part of me still loves him, but I’m definitely still ticked at him.”

She made a face. “Sorry,” she offered.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged. “Anyway. Have you even seen Jessie or her brother?”

Daisy looked around. “I said hi to her when we first got here… but no, I haven’t seen her since,” she said. I followed her gaze. A sea of people in a small suburban house outside Gotham was pretty crowded for a party, and it was hard to see if Jessie and her brother Robert were even here anymore.

“Me neither,” I muttered.

“Wonder where they went,” Daisy mused.

“I mean, with the amount of people here, I’m not surprised I can’t see them.”

“Yeah…”

Somewhere nearby, I heard glass shattering. “Uh-oh. That can’t be good,” Daisy remarked. “If Jessie’s parents find out someone broke something—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as a window crashed in right next to us. I shrieked and grabbed Daisy, dragging her away from the flying shards. Several of them splattered over my jacket and cascaded to the floor, but I was lucky not to get impaled by any of them. A dark figure in body armor landed on the carpet, holding a large assault rifle.

I put Daisy behind me and backed up a few steps as the music stopped. She was taller than me, but hunched over she could almost disappear behind me. At least, whoever the intruder was wouldn’t have a clear shot at her past me.

“I’m looking for Jessica and Robert Williams,” the intruder said, levelling his gun at the crowd. Someone screamed from near the stairs.

While the intruder’s attention was elsewhere, I snuck my phone out of my pocket and found Jason’s number. I sent a text as fast as I could. Get out of here. Shooter just broke in.

That was all I had the time for before slipping my phone back into my pocket like I never had it out. The intruder prowled around the crowd. “Jessica… Robert…” he singsonged. I held Daisy’s wrist behind me. “If you two don’t show yourselves in the next sixty seconds, I’m tearing up your friends.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the text on my watch. Jason Todd: I’m not leaving you.

I slid my phone out. You have to. At least call the cops.

The window on the other side of the living room shattered inward. Another dark figure swooped through and landed on the floor. My first thought was Batman—but as the figure straightened from his landing, I saw a red helmet glinting off the disco lights.

“Red Hood,” I breathed, in awe. I’d seen him a couple times. Imposing, tall, muscular. I’d only ever seen him from a distance. Seeing him up close was almost more terrifying.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you,” Red Hood said to the intruder, voice being run through some sort of ring modulator to disguise it, “that it’s rude to gate crash a party?”

The intruder growled, “Red Hood,” like an animal. My blood ran a little colder.

Red Hood stepped forward, completely unfazed. “Get out now, and this doesn’t have to get any uglier than it already is.”

“What do you care, crime boss, that I get up to a little trouble?”

“I care because everyone knows my rules. No innocents get harmed. Look around you. This place is full of innocent people.” Red Hood gestured to the party crowd. For a moment I could have sworn the eyes of his helmet lingered on me. But he was probably looking at the window. “Get out before I haul you out in a body bag.” He whipped one of his massive handguns into his hand, cocking it with the other in one practiced, fluid motion.

The intruder levelled the assault rifle at Red Hood’s chest. “Make me,” he spat.

Red Hood shrugged. “Okay.”

Bang! His handgun went off. I jumped. The intruder dropped to the floor, his rifle spraying bullets briefly toward the ceiling before stopping when he hit the carpet in a splatter of blood.

Red Hood looked around. “Everyone okay?”

A few scattered nods.

“Good. Get out on the front lawn. Wait for the cops to show up. They should be here any second,” he ordered.

The crowd rushed out the front door, bottlenecking and slowing down. Daisy included. I stayed where I was, staring at Red Hood. He noticed me not moving and came over.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

I looked down, peeling my hand away from my right side to reveal the blood soaking my shirt. “His spray. It got me,” I said, voice hoarse. My head was light and fuzzy. Not from blood loss—not yet. More likely from the shock of getting hit.

His helmet tilted down and he looked at the wound. The ring modulator distorted his whispered swearing but I still figured out what he said. “We need to get you to the hospital. Like, ASAP. And I can’t take you on my bike. Did you drive here?”

I nodded. “My car—it’s the dark green Explorer half-a-block that way.” I pointed down the street to the left with my non-bloodstained hand.

Red Hood nodded. “Keys?”

I pulled them from my other pocket and passed them over.

He swung me up into his arms and left. The crowd had cleared the front door in the time it took us to talk, so he marched across the front lawn and headed for my car. I heard Daisy call my name, but didn’t have the mental strength to call back.

As he walked down the block, each step jolting my wound, he said, “Batman, I’ve got a GSW. Taking her to the hospital. There was a hostile at a party in the suburbs. I took him down and the GCPD is on its way, but I’m moving the wounded girl.” He paused for a moment, but I couldn’t hear anything. “Yes, it’s a girl. She’s got her car here. I’m taking her in that.” Another pause. “Copy that. I’ll check in later.”

Red Hood set me gently in the passenger seat and laid it as flat as it could go. “Just hold on, babydoll. Hold on,” he said softly.

I scrunched my eyebrows as he shut the door and circled the hood to get in the driver’s seat. Once he gunned the engine, I put my clean hand on the arm of his brown leather jacket. “Why’d you call me… babydoll?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know your name, miss, and I thought it’d be more comforting.” The car pulled away from the curb.

“You just heard my friend shout my name.”

He swore again and sighed. “Fine. Just don’t freak out. You’ll lose more blood.” He pulled his helmet off with one hand. “Couldn’t see as well to drive with that thing on anyway.”

Jason’s tousled black hair, white streak at the front, puffed up a bit as the helmet freed itself from his head. I tried to sit up, but fire burned in my side and I flopped back down before I’d even moved an inch. “What?” I squeaked. “Jay?”

His eyes flicked to me briefly. Deep blue and… there was something melancholy in them. “Yeah, babydoll,” he said. “It’s me.” There was his sad smile. One I’d seen many times. “You haven’t called me Jay since…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I remembered when I’d stopped calling him Jay and “my Jay baby.” It was about a month before I finally had enough of his excuses and lies and broke up with him.

“Is this… is this why you always disappeared for hours and came back with excuses?”

“And could never seem to keep my story straight? Yeah. I wanted…” He sighed. “I wanted to tell you so many times but Batman said it would only be safe for me to tell you if we ever got married. And even then you’d still be in danger. You made me so happy and it killed me to lie to you. Killed me even more to lose you. When you broke things off… I am not proud to admit that every criminal I fought on patrol that night went to the hospital with more broken bones than I usually leave. I love you. Still. So much so that this past year has been… empty. Without you.”

I cleared my throat of the tears clogging it. “I said to Daisy earlier tonight, when I first saw you at the party, that I’d love nothing more than to get back together with you. But I couldn’t if you were going to keep things from me again.”

“Don’t get my hopes up like that while you’re in shock, please babydoll. Because I don’t know if you mean it or if you’re babbling from the shock and have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I told you I miss you,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t have to mean you still love me or want me back.”

“But I do. To both. Love you and want you back. You can be honest with me now. But, we can talk about it when I don’t feel like passing out from pain.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Don’t you dare pass out on me. If you do, you might not wake up again. Stay awake, babydoll. Stay awake. Please.” His grip tightened on my fingers. I tried to nod, but I wasn’t feeling well. My vision was a little blurry and I was tired.

“I’ll try,” I said.

We kept driving. Jason had fallen into pensive silence.

“Alright. We’re here,” he said. He parked my car and put his helmet back on. Then he ducked out, circled the hood, and picked me up to carry me into the ER, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Just stay awake. I’ll come visit—as me—later, okay?”

I nodded. “I’d like that,” I said.

Automatic glass doors slid open. Someone yelped. “GSW,” Jason said, voice modulated again. “Right side. No exit wound.”

“Get her on a gurney!” a nurse called over his shoulder.

I hugged Jason tighter. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “Of course, babydoll.” His voice was soft. Comforting.

He set me on a gurney, and I watched him stride out of the hospital as they rolled me away.

—

When I woke up after surgery, Jason was there. Alone. Blue jeans, red T-shirt, hair a mess, and dozing in the armchair. “You look like crap,” I croaked.

He jolted and sat up. “Speak for yourself, babydoll,” he retorted. But he spoke gently. “Your family’s down in the cafeteria, getting some breakfast. I told them I’d keep you company. Your mom looked like she might murder me just for suggesting it, but I told her we made up enough to be friends at the party. So she—begrudgingly, mind you—allowed me to stay.”

“Just friends?” I asked.

He smiled and sat forward to run the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “For now. You said we’d talk about it more when you were feeling better.” He leaned back in the armchair. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Still not great, but the shock has worn off, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“I meant it, by the way,” I said. “That you can be honest with me now, so if you’re willing, we can try again.”

Jason met my eyes. There was hope in his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked.

I smiled. “Absolutely. I told you before: I miss you.”

He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to my lips. The EKG monitor beeped a little faster as my heartrate spiked. I grabbed his shoulders as he moved away, and pulled him back to me. He smiled into my lips as I kissed him again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He tilted his head for a better angle, and I pushed one of my hands into his hair.

The door to the hospital room opened. “What’s going on in here?” Mom demanded.

[troubatrain]

cowboy like me - m. barzal

a/n: omg suddenly she remembers how to write - so this is bigger than a blurb but definitely shorter than a fic so i’m calling it a baby fic!! i really haven’t written anything i love (or have been able to finish) in weeks so this feels really good to post so i hope you guys like it!!!

tagging @texanstarslove & @hookingminor because they both read this ahead of time to tell me it’s not trash (and i appreciate it sm!!)

“...and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up, and the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one...”

She’s only here for her inheritance.

I heard she was dating a CEO but she got caught having an affair with his assistant.

Careful Barz, you might be next after that contract.

Mat’s gaze was held on you while he listened to his teammates and their wives gossip next to him. Mat saw you twice, maybe three times a year, only when you were forced to show your face at an Islanders event. Other than that, Mat knew no more about than Page Six did about Manhattan’s new up and coming socialite. Your family owned the team, putting a pretty penny in your pocket as long as you kept up with appearances, or at least that’s what Sydney seemed to think. You looked perfect, a silk floor length dress that Mat couldn’t imagine wasn’t made for only your body, hair pinned up perfectly while a pair of earrings hung low. Diamonds for sure. Everything about you was eloquent and expensive, and Mat had heard just about every rumor in the book about you.

Mat felt good about himself that night. He was on a point streak and having a monster season. He was wearing a suit that was tailored to absolute perfection, Mat’s dark brown locks tousled perfectly on his head. There was no reason that he couldn’t just walk up to you and finally take a moment to introduce himself to you instead of gawking at you from afar like he’d been doing since he was a rookie. He was a kid then, and you were probably dating a prince or the son of a millionaire and had no time for a dorky kid from Vancouver. Now, Mat was a man with a contract to match and hopes that you could give him the time of day at least. His gazes lingers a bit longer, watching the way your eyes rolled briefly at whatever that man was saying to you. You excuse yourself, waving your empty wine glass in your and like Mat was stalking his prey - this was the moment.

“You’re not very subtle you know,” You muse, looking over at Mat who was leaning against the bar getting a drink of his own, “And blue’s a better color on you.”

Being a bitch was second nature to you. The way scoring came to Mat or business came to your father and siblings. It was easy to be snarky, because snarky kept people at a distance. Besides, no one thought much about you that didn’t involve how many commas were in your bank account or the constant debate about whether or not you’d gotten a nose job when you were eighteen. If they wanted nothing more than a pretty face, then that’s what you’d give them.

“Noted,” Mat takes a gulp of his drink, and your eyes linger a little too long at his hand wrapped around a glass, “You want to dance?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You hum, taking a sip of your drink. Mat Barzal had a reputation that was cleaner than your own, the Islanders golden boy if you will, but you knew better than that. You knew about the revolving door in his apartment and all of the girls who got strung along in hopes they’d get to be the ones who wore that number thirteen jersey to games. Mat Barzal was no saint, and it didn’t matter how many rich men he convinced he was.

“No harm in dancing darling,” Mat husks, voice close to your ear while you desperately hoped he didn’t see the goosebumps on your arm. Mat was throwing you off your game, but it’s a welcome feeling. Darling. You liked that one, tired of the men who constantly called you babe or baby.

“One dance Barz,” You took his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the tent that your parents had set up on the tennis court in the same home you grew up in. Your hand remained in his, your other gripping his shoulder while you swayed back and forth, “You know your teammates are staring.”

And they were. Mat turns his head, stifling a laugh at Tito’s jaw that was practically on the floor, “Let them.”

“Not afraid of the rumors?” You hum, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder, “Or are you just like me?”

“Like you?” Mat asks, raising his eyebrows at you, grabbing your and spinning you around before he pulled you closer.

“You don’t want love, just a fancy car or two and girls falling at your feet. You’ll ride into town and leave with more damage done than the time before but you’ll always get away with it. You’ll tell all the stuck up rich people anything they want to hear to keep up appearances. A cowboy if you will,” You explain, a smile on Mat’s face telling you that maybe you nailed it on the head.

“And what if those rumors about me aren’t true?” Mat asks, lips ghosting over yours but he won’t kiss you just yet.

“And what if the ones about me aren’t true?” You quip back to avoid Mat’s question about whether or not you believed any of the shit you heard about him.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

***

And so you did. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you took Mat home that night no intentions of ever speaking to him again. He was going to leave your place and you were going to be another notch in his bedpost. Because that’s what the Mat Barzal’s of the world did. And you were right after all, Mat Barzal was a bandit, who stole the hearts of the women he saw and deleted their numbers without a second thought.

Except Mat wasn’t going to that with you, well he was, but when he woke up the next morning to see you perched in the chair by the window in your apartment, sipping a cup of tea - he didn’t want to leave. You looked so normal, your walls finally down in the comfort of your own space and suddenly Mat needed to know why you had them up so high to begin with. Mat found out quickly, it was the pressure of the people around you. Your family needed you to be perfect, but they didn’t think you’d be good enough for the family business like your brothers.

I just hope she doesn’t ruin him like Oliver.

Mat needs someone who’s going to support him.

She’s just going to hurt him and he’s going to play like shit because of it.

“Would you just stop for a second?” Mat had been chasing you three blocks from the restaurant he was having a nice dinner with you and your family at. He wasn’t supposed to hear them, but he did and you were embarrassed, “Darling-”

“Mat, stop just stop,” You sigh, finally slowing down because those stupid heels you chose to wore were killing your feet. You shiver for a second, Mat’s large hands move to

your arms to try and warm you up, “Go ahead, ask what horrible thing I did to drive my last boyfriend away… because it wasn’t my fucking fault. He was using me, just like everyone else does and-”

“I believe you,” Mat rushes out, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. It wasn’t the first time one the skeletons in either of your closets would try and tear you apart, and it probably wasn’t going to last. There was always going to be brunches with his teammates who hounded him about his girlfriend’s past or whatever rumor they were hearing. There would always be times their significant others would grab your arm in a crowd when Mat was having a conversation with another woman like he was going to hurt you. That wasn’t going away, but it also didn’t matter to him at all. All of that was before he locked it down, things were different now.

Mat went back to your place that night, taking note of the way one of his suits was pressed and in your closet for him, like he belonged there. He smiled at it, the blue suit you insisted he bought because it was the best color on him, “You’re not mad at me right?”

“Why would I be mad darling?” Mat sighs, smiling softly at his shirt that you seemed to always steal when you stayed over. You give him a look like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, “I love you, and I don’t care about the past. It’s you and me now and that’s what matters.”

Mat hadn’t said it yet, waiting for the right moment for him to drop a four letter word he never thought he’d ever use. He’d thought it plenty of times, but he was saving for when the moment felt right. Maybe he’d drop it on the trip you had planned in a few weeks, or after a nice date, but you needed to hear it from him now. He loved you, everything down to the way you snored if you had too much to drink.

“I love you too,” You nod, wiping the last tear that had fallen from your eyes, “Cowboy.”

“Call me that forever,” Mat husks, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “And ever.”

[marshmallowprotection]

Gladiolus.

Description: Jihyun Kim knew what he had to do to protect both Saeran and Saeyoung, but what happens when he realizes that he needs to help himself and change the course of his life to accomplish it? Will he have the strength to be the Dad that he needs to be for them in the face of his mistakes and victories?

Photographer Saeran AU

Word Count: 10500

Based on this idea and thanks to @dailysaeran​ for drawing baby Saeran!

[Read on AO3]

Jihyun had heard that the winds of change could come into your life and dismantle everything that you thought would last forever. Life wasn’t always a constant stream where the water would twist and turn around the rocks the same way. The weather would change, the temperature would change, the currents would change, and even the animals that lived in the water would change as the seasons passed. 

It had been something that he had gone through twice before, but this change wasn’t one that he ever expected to come. It had been a realization that had been a long time coming, but he hadn’t allowed himself to see just how much he needed to stop and reflect on the man that he became as his life shifted to much more mature adulthood. 

The first time things changed, he lost his dear mother and it changed the way that he believed in love. Her adoration and commitment to him had made him believe that he needed to care for the people he loved no matter what, without fail, even if it meant that he would sacrifice himself. In hindsight, now he was able to see how this extreme wasn’t the right way to handle his feelings towards others. 

His mother had always loved him and wanted the best for him. But, at that time,  he had been a stubborn young man who had layered issues with his mother. It wasn’t her fault that his father had taught him to feel complicated about his mother, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that V had come to realize too late that his father had manipulated him to believe in his lies. He had been so afraid as a child of his father seeing his true passion. 

His fears and insecurities forced him into pushing his mother away over and over again, but she kept believing in him and pushing for him to find his dream. Her sacrifice for him during the fire that claimed her life had been what changed Jihyun forever. He thought that to love someone, he had to give everything for the rest of his life, even if that meant trying to help someone by being too pushy. 

His mistake here had nearly cost him everything. 

It had almost destroyed him, in the same way, that his mother had been destroyed by her love and compassion for her son whom she loved dearly. He had learned the wrong lesson and it was only recently that he was able to understand that. 

The second time things changed, he had met Rika, and by extension, he would eventually come into contact with Saeyoung. His love life with Rika had always been intense, blinding as the sun as the two of them tangled their broken hearts looking for a savior to believe in. But, their love wasn’t right for one another at the end of the day, and the more they argued the less idyllic their reality became. 

He wanted to help Rika escape from her nightmares and trauma, but he had no idea how to help her in the way that she needed him to. He thought that allowing her to fixate on her darkest and scariest thoughts by subjecting him to them instead of herself, would help her to break free of the chain. She was a star that was on the brink of exploding when he met her, and every single day, he idealized this and found a muse within it. 

It hadn’t been a healthy relationship once their feelings became tangled with the fruits of poison but as that realization grew to a fever pitch, V couldn’t ignore the cycle that had been created. Even if they ignored it and tried to make things work, it was never going to work and they were needless in the way that they continued to subject themselves to something that would never make them feel the love that they deserved. 

Everyone thought that their love was perfect, but it was far from the truth. This was realized just as they began to help the twins. Saeyoung and Saeran Choi were two young boys who had been living in hell their entire lives, and they were trapped in a cycle of abuse that they could not get out of on their own. Rika had been taking care of Saeyoung for a while, gaining his trust through the church and trying to help him bring more food and clothes home to his sickly twin. 

She’d known him for quite some time before Jihyun met him. But, Rika had been upfront with him about the life that this young boy lived, and it didn’t take much consideration for him to so badly want to help. Saeyoung was willing to do anything, try something, or beg if it meant that his brother could be safe and sound away from harm. Their mother was using them to blackmail their father into getting whatever she wanted, and without them, she wouldn’t be able to assert that control. 

Rika, at first, wanted to simply remove the boys in the dead of night and run. V thought that wasn’t a bad idea, but when Saeyoung admitted the identity of his father, they both knew in their hearts that running wasn’t going to be a viable option. 

It was in their hunt to find a way to get the older twin an escape that V met someone from the agency. A fan of his that loved to buy up so many of his photographs happened to be working for an underground facility that took any intelligent young people under their wings. The man spun it to him like being an escape from reality, an action movie suddenly came to life that would give the budding Choi a place to learn how to use his skills to protect himself. 

As Saeyoung had proven to be quite skillful with programming, the books that he had been studying that had been given to him by Rika had come in handy. He was able to prove that his skill was worth the trouble it would take to train him properly to the man, and Jihyun was able to make a deal through that, giving Saeyoung safety within the confines of secret protection where his hacking skills could eventually help him hide everything about himself and his brother. 

For the time being, Saeyoung would have to let go of his twin to go into the agency to study and become what they wanted him to be. There was no telling how long he would owe the agency his life and skill, it could’ve been years or it could’ve lasted his entire life. But, the deal would give him time to figure out how to become the strongest person that he could be. It would allow him to protect his brother, which is all he wanted.

In making this deal with the agency, he made a second deal with V for it. Saeyoung was a very firm negotiator when he wanted to be. The promise was that as long as Saeyoung was in the care of the agency, V and/or Rika would have to care for his brother and keep him hidden. It was this large promise to make that meant that everything in their lives would change, but V took this deal because he knew it was the right thing to do. He wanted nothing more than to protect those boys with his entire heart. 

He had never been this committed to the idea of protecting children before, but he supposed that he saw his pain in their eyes. He never wanted to see another child hurt from whatever they lived through, no matter how deep the pain buried itself into their bodies. This deal was made and the older twin had to leave without warning. His heart ached to know that he couldn’t tell his twin where he was going. 

People in the agency weren’t allowed to have connections with family or loved ones. If they did, people would use them as collateral and the agency couldn’t have their members breaking down every time someone wound up kidnapped or used a prop. Saeyoung couldn’t stomach the idea of knowing that his brother would get hurt when this was to protect him, so when the day came and he had to leave? 

He hugged his brother tightly as he was still resting and apologized, leaving during the time before the sun rose with just the clothes on his back. Saeran would be okay, but he had to break his heart into pieces to do it. His little brother was everything to him and just knowing that he could taste some kind of freedom was all he needed to choose to leave. Saeyoung had tears in his eyes that day, but he never stopped smiling. 

Those words that Saeyoung spoke still haunted him somewhat, as the undaunted expression in his eyes grew; “Saeran will have a good life. I know he will. He’ll be free to look at the grounds and get any kind of ice cream that he wants after dinner from now on. He’ll get to experience all kinds of firsts… he can read, draw, and try all kinds of things with you, V. He’ll make friends, he’ll fall in love, he’ll have everything that he could ever want. Thank you.” 

That hung heavy on V’s shoulders as it was a tall order to fulfill. But, he took that promise and he kept it deeply interwoven inside of his heart. Even as his and Rika’s relationship came to an end in a matter of seconds. Rika realized after just a short time being around Saeran that his pain was too great compared to her own, and it reminded her too much of her mother and the pain that she had suffered. 

She wanted to protect Saeran, but this realization had given her the ugly truth. She couldn’t give him the love that he needed alongside V… because her heart was still wounded, and she wanted to heal herself in the right way before she tried to help someone in need in the way that he truly needed. His pain was like her own, and in seeing that, she knew that she needed to end things with V to be able to help herself. 

As they had been growing apart over some time, V understood why she chose to do this and he knew that it was coming no matter what happened. They had never been perfect for each other and trying to force themselves to stay together to take care of Saeran simply wasn’t going to help that child in need. 

Rika dedicated herself back to going to therapy consistently and decided to put all her energy into creating the RFA so she could help Saeran and other children like him that way, removed from the situation but still close enough to provide help.

She loved V but their love couldn’t ever be more than what it had always been, mere infatuation and trying to cover their wounds with a meager bandaid that couldn’t heal the problem. He cared for her greatly but at the end of the day, love could not bloom and prosper in a garden without a drop of water in the intense heat of the sun. 

V understood his failing in their relationship as well, and through her insistence, as well as the urging of Jumin, he decided that he needed to get help for himself as well. Even if getting help was such a taboo in his culture, he knew that he needed it. He knew that his heart was wounded and to be a better man, he had to acknowledge what he had gone through. After all, if he was to be Saeran’s father, he wanted to be worthy of the title. 

He wanted to be able to prove to not only himself but everyone around him that he could do the right thing. It wasn’t easy for him to face his demons but it was a process that he wanted to start for his heath. While that started and he and Rika separated, he slowly took the time to lure Saeran away from his mother’s grasp day by day. It started with Rika convincing the woman to let him come to the cathedral every so often. 

But, in due time, the longer that Saeran was gone, the less time that his mother was aware of her surroundings and the people around herself. 

She had been drinking often since Saeyoung had left and it left her out of her mind for lengthy periods. When she was too dazed to even process what her name was, much less where her child was, that’s when V and Rika snuck in during the dead of night when she was passed out and there was no sign of any watchful eyes from Saejoong Choi. 

Saeran was removed from her household and brought to V’s house in the secluded mountains, far from the city but just close enough that they wouldn’t have a lengthy drive if push came to shove and they needed something. 

That woman was left in her despair but her fate hung in the balance the minute that she was left alone. They took extreme measures to make it look like the boys hadn’t even lived there in the first place, but whatever Saejoong Choi decided to do with that woman… it would be the price of her sins to face alone now that she no longer could use the boys as puppets. Neither V nor Rika would look back or try to discern her true fate. 

It would be up to fate in that case and they would shield Saeran from that reality as much as they could. He might have cared for the idea of his mother as he craved a family where he was wanted and loved, but she wasn’t someone who truly loved her sons. They couldn’t be properly called her sons because she never treated them the way a mother should treat their child. She simply did not deserve that title. 

Regardless, with Saeran under his care, he was finally able to wake up one morning and know that he had a bed that couldn’t be taken away from him. He’d been given his bedroom with anything that he could desire. Saeyoung had told them about some of the things that he liked and it helped them figure out what to gift him to make him feel more at home. 

It was a lot for Saeran all at once, though. 

His eyes flooded with tears that day as he realized that he had a bed for the first time in his life. He looked back at V and asked him, “Is that mine?” The twins had slept on a mat on the floor with only a single blanket to share between them. Saeran often wound up wearing the blanket after he fell asleep because Saeyoung would refuse to take it. So, a bed was like the biggest gift this child had ever seen. 

Saeran’s eyes flooded with tears as he hugged V without thinking, looking at him with the most joyful expression in his eyes. V felt his heart jump when he did, and a lump grew in his throat as he ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled in return. This was what Saeyoung wanted, his twin to be able to have the very thing that they had been denied from their birth, a home with a family that would protect him.

He had been barely fourteen years old, but the way his donated clothes clung to his body and how short he was, he could’ve passed easily as a ten-year-old, at best. He was small and barely able to hold himself up most days but that had been a happy moment for him. Saeran had only let go of V to race to the bed, flopping onto the soft mattress and rolling onto his back, laughing and giggling with glee. 

His room was a paradise of pinks and blues, very gentle pastels that would cloak him with the sunshine that he had been denied. His room had a large window that he could open if he wanted to see the sky or feel the fresh breeze on his face once again. 

There was a view of the garden in the back and the massive trees that lead into the forest further behind that. He could see all of the things that he never could have locked away in his mother’s house.

There were plushies and toys carefully tucked into the room as well since Saeyoung had been firmly adamant that his twin loved to color and all the picture books that he had received made him long for toys and soft things to hold onto. 

There was one gift in that room that hadn’t been chosen by V… and it was a ginger tabby cat plushie, something that Saeyoung picked out for him after he snuck out to go shopping with V one day. 

If Saeran were to flip the tag around its neck, he would see his brother’s handwriting on the back plain as day. It didn’t say his brother’s name on it but it did say, “For Saeran,” and that would be the only clue his twin needed to understand that it was a gift from Saeyoung. He would discover it when V left him to acclimate to his new room by himself, eyes laced with happy tears as he’d realize his twin had given him a gift. 

It meant that his brother was alive and this was where he wanted him to be.

Saeran was hopeful after that, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. V couldn’t tell him where his twin was or anything about him, but the gift was enough. It was a gesture that would be able to tide him over and keep his heart happy, knowing that he hadn’t been abandoned and his twin hadn’t been killed by their father. 

It was a simple gesture but it was the only thing that he could think of to bypass the agency before they even knew it was a problem. 

Of course, this opened up another can of worms that V had to deal with. The fact of the matter was, Saeran couldn’t keep his red hair. Even if he was hidden away from the rest of the world and safe with him, they couldn’t trust that his father wasn’t still looking. He would be hunting around for boys with red hair and golden eyes. 

V had to explain this to Saeran, who felt a little dejected about not being able to keep his hair but after he learned why he had to change it, he was okay with it. After all, he knew that he could be able to dye it back someday if he wanted. But, for the time being, he had to dye his hair to look like V’s did. This was for a very good reason and it worked with the backstory that he was going to tell people if they asked about him having a child. 

Through the false documentation that he was able to create thanks to the channel he had created with his informants, he was able to create an entire fabricated life for Saeran. It took a lot of time to look into his mother’s side, but he was able to make it seem as though Saeran was just a very distant cousin of his from the states that had no other family to turn to. It meant he wouldn’t be in the family registry since it was distant. 

It was close enough that a doctored birth certificate and some basic paperwork could give him a new identity overall. It took a lot of money to make it as perfect and legal as possible, but it was well worth the price he paid. To the South Korean government as far as they were concerned in the matter, Saeran would simply be known as Ray Kim, the adopted child of Jihyun Kim. It was as simple as that. 

Saeran had been adamant about the name since he got to pick what people would call him. He thought about it for a while until he stumbled upon an interesting idiom. He noticed that nice people were called a Ray of Sunshine. Saeran felt connected with that idea, he wanted so badly to be happy enough that people would never think he was lonely and pathetic. 

He wanted to be that person that looked so happy they glowed. 

If Saeyoung was watching over him now, he wanted his brother to know that he was happy. So, his new name should’ve been happy. V agreed and let him pick that name since he was giving up a lot to be able to have this freedom in the first place. He was a child that had been saved but he still had limitations on what he could do. Being able to choose his name was one of the small luxuries. 

Of course, as soon as the paperwork was ready, V had to dye his hair himself. It took a while to lighten his red locks to a color that would accept the mint dye, but Saeran was a good sport for the entire time that he had to sit there at the table, letting V do his hair in layers as everything started to process. It took a few hours but by the end of it, Saeran’s red was washed away and replaced with a color that was no different than V’s. 

The child looked into the mirror once his hair had dried out, blinking a few times at his reflection since he didn’t recognize it at first. His golden eyes stared back at him so he knew that it was his face in the mirror but it felt weird not to see his twin’s face reflected with his own. It wasn’t the same as it used to be, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t okay. 

It was okay. 

He knew it would be okay. 

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you think Saeyoung would be upset because I don’t look like him anymore?” 

“Saeyoung would be happy that you’re safe here,” V said. He rested his hand against Saeran’s shoulder and they looked back at their reflections together this time. “You’ll always look like your brother, even if you don’t have the same hair color. Nobody can ever take that connection away from you, Saeran. Never forget that.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you want to try on the contacts, too? You don’t have to use them when we’re at home, but if we leave the house for something together, I’ll need you to wear them, okay? So, it’d be nice to try to practice getting them off and on your eyes.” 

“Are they this color, too?”

“I picked a few different colors out, Saeran. What would you like to try?” 

“Um, what about green? It’s like the grass!” 

“We can try that.” 

  —

  Saeran adjusted as best he could.

Everything changed so much for him after he finally felt secure. He had room to sleep in, he had a house that could leave whenever he wanted, and he had a new member of his family who liked to listen to him talk for hours about all of the new things that he was doing. V even said that once he felt like he was ready, he could start going to school and hang out with kids his age. 

That was a little scary for Saeran to think about. He wasn’t sure about going out in the open with people… he was still scared of being caught by his father and getting his brother into trouble. It was a sad reality that he faced but the decision was ultimately left in his hands if he wanted to go to school with other kids or he simply wanted V to hire him a proper tutor to come and visit the house every week. 

Saeran was curious about school… about kids his age. Back at the cathedral, he didn’t talk much to the other kids because he had felt too shy to approach them. He had spoken to some of the kids a few times during the playtime that they had whilst the parents were in the middle of their mass, but he always got too anxious to talk to them beyond a few quiet “hello”s. 

It was hard to imagine making friends. 

It was hard to imagine going to school, too. 

But, everything he saw on the television made it seem like it might be fun. What if Saeyoung was going to a school? Would he want him to go, too? He wasn’t so sure about it, but he could think about it and try to guess what it would be like. After all, V went to a school when he’d been a kid, so that meant that it was safe, right? 

Saeran was a gentle soul that liked to learn how to do everything… every meal was spent trying to show him how to do something. Cleaning up meant that he wanted to help V every step of the way, and for the time that he wasn’t trying to learn skills, he could be found outside in the garden that was growing stronger outside. The flowers and vegetables had caught his eye, again. 

He spent a lot of time learning about them at the cathedral but he didn’t have long to study the picture book that V got him when he was stuck with his mother. He liked learning about how they drew and what they meant when you shared them with other people. Saeran thought it was interesting that people could share secrets between petals and stems. 

They were all so pretty and he liked talking to them whenever he could. They were like his friends even if they couldn’t talk back to him. He never had someone who listened so much before so he liked that about them. His flowers were everything to him, and he felt like they could be what he needed to get by instead of school! 

Even if he was curious about what it felt like to have friends that could talk back to him. His flowers were good enough, right? 

V told him that flowers grow better when you talk to them, and he took that belief inside of his heart without question. Even though there was so much that he wanted to share with the flowers, he always ran out of time when the sunset. If he could’ve spent all his time in that little garden, he would have. Though, he was always sad on rainy days when couldn’t go outside and see his friends. 

He would curl up on the couch with his plushie and stare up at the ceiling for a while, letting his mind wander with thoughts that seemed endless. He was lonely, now, even if he had a family of flowers and V with him. Maybe V was right, he wondered, maybe it would be nice to have some friends that he could talk to just as much as he loved talking to his flower friends. What if he was allowed to have both? 

After a particularly stormy day and night that hadn’t let him go outside, Saeran practically leaped at the chance to go outside again. He didn’t even think to ask if V was going to come with him, his little legs just carried him through the house and out the backdoor as fast as they could. He found his way around the puddles and beamed, leaning over with his hands on his knees to inspect his friends. 

They looked like they had gotten a lot of water overnight but after how dry it had been, he wasn’t too scared for them. He just wished that he had a chance to see them even when it was raining badly. His flower friends made his day feel a little bit brighter so seeing them made them was always a good feeling he had. He just didn’t know how to see them if it was raining so much all the time!

That’s when Jihyun appeared beside him, crouching down in the dirt next to Saeran with his camera in hand. Saeran cocked his head and looked at him, unsure why he had come to this part of their garden right away. He lifted the viewfinder to his face and pointed it at one of the flowers that he had been admiring, then he lowered the device and showed the image to Saeran. 

With curious and amazing eyes, Saeran found himself staring at a reflection of the flower. He’d known that V took photos of things that were kind of like what he saw on the walls of their little house but those were all of the sky and stars. There weren’t photos of flowers in the house, there were a few paintings, but no flower pictures. 

He didn’t realize that pictures could be taken of things that were on Earth. Technology was still kind of a fickle thing for Saeran. He had a hard time understanding how things worked, trying to figure out how televisions made their picture happen, how phones could call people if they didn’t have a connection with a string, how cameras worked, how lights functioned to off and on, how a sink made water, and more. 

The house that he lived in with his brother didn’t have a lot of things. The kitchen they had was small and he wasn’t allowed in it. His brother would have to get him food and water, and if he’d ever walked into the kitchen without his mother dragging him in there, he would get hurt in the process. He never looked around. He always looked at his feet. 

It felt like he didn’t know how anything worked. He always tried to guess how they worked, but the only answer that he could come up with was magic. It made sense in the storybook that he’d read once. Magic seemed like a really good answer, but he couldn’t ever find the fairy or witch that was making it work! 

What made V’s camera work? 

He was utterly mystified by what he was seeing on the device. He liked the photos that V took of the sky but… he never thought that this was something he could do. V always had a lot of big cameras that he would take outside during the day and night to take longer photos. He said something about exposure, but Ray didn’t know what he meant. 

He just knew that whatever magic he did made those really pretty photos of the fluffy clouds come into their living room. V had hung the photo that Saeran liked the most in his room after he asked if he could look at the photo for a while. He thought that asking meant that V would let him look at his screen for a while, but he printed the photo out and put it up when he was asleep. It was a nice surprise! 

He spoke up without knowing what he said aloud, “You… you can take pictures of flowers, too? I thought your camera only worked the sky.” 

A small smile appeared on V’s face. He paused as if an idea came to mind, and then he leaned over and pressed the camera into Saeran’s hands. Saeran was surprised and looked down at the device in his hands. He didn’t know what to do with it. He was nervous he might drop it if V let him hold it, so he tried to hand it back, but V insisted with another gentle nudge towards him to keep it. 

“Lift the camera and look at the screen,” V tapped his finger against the top of the camera where he was staring. “Notice how it shows you what you already see in the garden? 

Saeran did as he said, and he noticed the world moved much as it did on television on that small screen. Oh, so, did the cameras that took pictures to take the videos, too? That seemed to make sense to him. He could see the Gladiolus reflected on the monitor. There were a lot of buttons that did things but he didn’t know what they did. 

Saeran pursed his lips and looked back at V, “How do you make it work like that? I mean, how do you take the picture?” 

“I’d be happy to show you. Can I?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

So, V adjusted Saeran’s hold on the camera. He helped him place one firm hand on the lens and another on the side of the camera. Then, he showed him how to focus the lens and how to clear up the picture. Saeran felt a little weird about it since this was his first time holding a camera but V was patient as his uncertainty slowly washed away. 

He looked at the flower outside of the lens at first, then he looked at the screen again. Saeran thought about it. Would the picture look the same as the real thing? Would someone who saw the photo know exactly what Saeran felt when he was looking at the flower? Or, would they guess as to what he felt? Would they feel that fluttering feeling, too?

“When you want to take a photo, you hit the button. Go ahead, give it a try.” 

Saeran hit the switch on the side of the camera and waited a few seconds for the image to show itself on the screen. A wide smile appeared on his face as soon as it did. He couldn’t believe it! He’d taken a photo and it looked just like his flower! Lowering the camera soon, he looked at V who was smiling, too. 

He wished that he could show Saeyoung! He never took a photo before and this one reminded him of his brother so much! He was happy, so happy that he had been able to try something new, that he didn’t even realize that he had begun to giggle, “I did it! Dad, I did it! I took the photo!” 

“You did a good job, Saeran. Would you like to keep trying?” 

V ruffled his hair once again, the mint locks growing messy around his eyes as it would always do whenever the man did that. The breeze was no different, further messing up his hair but he’d decided he didn’t care about that. His hair could be as messy as he wanted and nobody would get onto him for it. 

Saeran’s smile didn’t fade away this time. The prospect that he was allowed to try something more than just once was still a foreign feeling, but it was one that he wasn’t afraid of. “Do you mean it? I can take more photos? I don’t have to just take one of them? I can take anything I want?” 

“Of course, Saeran. I’d be happy to show you how to take pictures of anything you want. There is no limit to what you can take. Those flowers, those trees, the lake just beyond them, the sky, the clouds, you, me, anything you want! I remember you said that you wanted to be able to see your flowers even when it was rainy… and this way you can. You can take pictures of as many flowers as you want.” 

Saeran’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He turned away from V and began to look around the garden for anything that might catch his eye. He didn’t know where to start. He never expected to be able to do something like this! What kind of pictures would he like to see? Oh, could he take photos like V and surprise him the way that he did? 

There were so many ideas running through him and he knew that he wanted to try all of them as soon as he could. 

He was renewed with the idea that maybe, just maybe he would be able to send these photos to his brother somehow. Wouldn’t Saeyoung love to see them? He gripped the device tightly in his hands and set off into the garden leaving V as he went to take photos of everything. His eyes looking at the earth and the sky, taking photos of everything without feeling like he was being held down. 

If he could have photos with him whenever he went off what he loved, he wouldn’t be afraid to try new things anymore. It wouldn’t be scary because he wouldn’t be alone. He could have the stars, the sun, the clouds, the sky, the flowers, his house, V, himself, and anything else that he could think of with him anywhere. 

If it was printed or on this camera, he could have it any time he wanted it without having to make a fuss. He wouldn’t have to ask V if he could go outside first, he could sit at the table and see his things while he tried to do other things inside! The idea made him happy and the camera that was in his hand made him feel liberated. 

Saeran wondered as if V would let him borrow his camera all the time!

   —

 Seasons passed and life changed just as quickly as the tides could crash against the shore of your favorite beach. It had been a few years since V had adopted Ray and ever since then, his life had been on a path that was leading him upward to the stars instead of down below to where waters lay underneath his feet. 

Ray had been able to go to school and attend the same one that his dad had attended without trouble, and nobody once ever questioned him or thought twice about who he was. They all thought him to be Ray Kim, and nobody had any reason to think that he wasn’t who he said he was. They all assumed that he was who he said he was from the start and that had cleared up a lot of Ray’s fears. 

It couldn’t have worked out any better. Ray had been scared to try new things for such a long time but the reality was when V gave him his first camera… It was like a whole new world of opportunity was handed to him. V spent hours showing Ray how to use his camera and he was a faster learner, constantly taking notes and tinkering with ideas that he had just as quickly as he read on what to do.

The camera meant so much to Ray that V decided to give it to him. He had the money to afford a new one, anyway, so he wasn’t too worried about that. It meant more to him that Ray had this thing that made him happy. He loved taking pictures a lot. It reminded V of when he used to use all of his time as a child drawing and painting, and when he saw that passion in Ray’s eyes that he had once seen in himself? 

He realized what his mother had meant all those years ago. 

She hadn’t been trying to pry into his life or make him do something she wanted. She wanted him to follow his heart. Through therapy, he was able to focus on learning that fact. 

He wanted to show his mother that he could do what she did, or at least, what she tried to do. He wanted to support Ray’s dream to be an artist, to be a photographer, too. 

Ray’s photos were… breathtaking and he only got better with time and practice. His skill was astounding, he was capable of tricks and feats that had taken V years to figure out on his own so it meant everything to know that giving Ray a camera had been the right thing to do. Even as he got older and studied hard, he never let go of his passion with his camera. 

When he wasn’t doing his homework, or spending time with his gardening club, he was taking photos. 

His skills were well-admired. 

V knew that Ray had potential and he wanted to help him chase that dream even further, but he also knew that Ray’s face couldn’t be shown as the artist for now. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t worthy of a gallery with his name on it but he deserved something to prove how much his hard work meant. 

He was stubborn, polite, hard-working, and determined to pay people back for kindness. He never asked V very much if he could help it. Even Jumin had commented that his son was rather selfless time and time again, jesting that he had been spending too much time with his father. 

All and all, Ray had grown into an upstanding young man who had a bright future ahead of him, even if he couldn’t have everything. He had a family and friends that cared about him, and he was so very far from the little frightened boy that he had once been. Nobody would have ever believed that the boy with mint curls was once a redhead who lived in fear, clutching to his twin like he was a lifeline.

The RFA had prospered as well, though Ray wasn’t a member of the group. 

He was anxious around big parties and crowds so it was better for him to avoid that. But, he still spoke to the members that were in the group that his Dad belonged to. He liked talking to Jumin, as it turned out, they had a lot in common. Ray was polite and formal when he spoke, and Jumin’d been like that all his life. So, they hit it off great. 

There had been some trips V and Jumin took, bringing Ray along with them to the countryside since he couldn’t leave Korea for his safety. Ray often spent those days staring at everything he could find and asking Jumin about the history or background of the places they traveled. He loved to learn and listen, and Jumin loved to share that with someone. It humbled V to see his friend and son get along. 

Jaehee was courteous to Ray as he often was with her, though, he was the first person to ask Jumin to make fewer cat projects to quote, “not stress Miss Jaehee out.” Ray liked to talk to her because she’d always listen to whatever he was invested in. He would, in turn, listen to her talk about Zen for a while. Their friendship was built on having someone close by who knew what it felt like to want to be heard. 

Speaking of Zen, the actor spent a lot of time looking out for Ray… somehow even more so than Yoosung. It might have been because Ray was awfully small for his height and if someone tried to fight him, he’d probably lose before they breathed on him. Zen was always trying to give him advice about the world and Ray took it, but everyone would correct the advice if it turned into his dating advice.

Yoosung was the closest in age to him but they didn’t have a lot in common. They would share notes and study guides often if they shared a subject in school, even though they were going to the same school, but they talked now and again about other things. They surprisingly shared a lot of recipes together and would work to make them if the RFA was in the same place for an extended period. 

Rika was around, of course, and Ray didn’t mind her too much. They didn’t talk often but she always checked in on him whenever she got the chance. Her dedication to herself had done a lot of wonders for her, but she still struggled with the fear that she might hurt Ray without meaning to so she kept to a polite distance from him apart from this or that. 

V himself was trying his best to be a good father. He made mistakes now and again, but he was doing his best to be there for Ray when he needed someone. Ray had even started calling Dad a long time ago without thinking twice. It was an honor to be given that name, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t cry that night after Ray went to bed. They spent a long time trying to be sure that bond was tried and true.

Ray had the life that his brother always wanted for him… with one exception to the very rule, he wasn’t in it. Saeyoung wasn’t in his life. He was trapped within the agency and the promise that he had made, but he still thought to this day that his promise was worth it. V couldn’t ever tell him anything about Ray the few fleeting times they got to talk about things on the phone, but he did know that the “cat” was doing better than ever. 

Life was different. 

But, at the same time, life was better than it had ever been. 

However, as he thought about how sad it was that the boys couldn’t see each other, the gears in his brain began to churn. He wanted the boys to have a chance for something, but to give them a chance, he would have to be careful about what he did. As he looked out the window of his kitchen to the backyard, he saw Ray taking photos again, laying in the glass as he stared at the sky once again. 

Could he give Ray and Saeyoung a gift at the same time? 

V would have to think deeply about this. 

 —

 Seven had received a simple invitation in the mail that wasn’t labeled and wasn’t decorated. It was a mint-colored letter that told him who it was from but wouldn’t reveal to Vanderwood, his handler, that it was a message from someone that he cared about. He had to wait a few days to open it because he had just moved into his new house and Vanderwood had to help him set up a lot of things. 

When he opened the letter, he’d been surprised to see that it was a decorated invitation to visit V’s upcoming art exhibition. He was supposedly showing off new works that he had done as well as the works of his new assistant that had just joined him. That didn’t strike him as odd at first, but what did stand out was the message that V penned at the bottom of the letter.

There was just one sentence. 

The cat will be there on display. — V

Seven was able to put two and two together. He realized that V was implying that his twin was going to be showing off art for the first time, underneath a pseudonym, of course, but he didn’t once think that his brother would be able to do something like that. He had no idea of the life his twin was living, what he did, what he loved, who he was now, or what it meant to be a part of his life the way that V was. 

That was just it… he wasn’t apart of Saeran’s life. He was just his brother that had to leave him, and that was it. He hadn’t seen him in years and a part of him wanted badly to know how he was doing and what he was doing with his life, and this alone should’ve been enough to make him be sure that Saeran was safe and happy. 

But, his stomach twisted in knots as he realized that he wanted to go. He wanted to go there and see Saeran in person if he could. It wasn’t a good idea, it was a dangerous idea, but the more he thought about his brother, the more he felt like he needed to see him. He didn’t want to risk any part of Saeran’s new life. 

He didn’t want to be the wrench that destroyed everything that Saeran had, because if V was able to do these kinds of things for him, then that meant he was happy. It meant that he had nice ways of living now, and that he had anything he could ever want. It seemed good to know that much, at the very least. He stared at that invitation for the longest time. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself because he was between wanting to go to see what he looked like all grown up and happy, but the other part of him warned that if he went, he would risk Saeran’s life all over again. Even if he was careful and lied about everything, it might still put a target on Saeran’s back.

Seven spent a long time thinking about it. 

The choice was his to make and V didn’t say that he had to go. He just made it an option that he could choose to come if he wanted. If he could come, anyway. V didn’t know certain things for his own protection. He only knew Seven’s new address for emergency reasons in case something went wrong with Saeran and they had to run through proper protocol. 

Should he go and risk it all? 

Or, should he stay and keep this letter as a token that Saeran was safe? 

It was a big choice to make and he didn’t know the right answer, and there was nobody to ask or talk to about the answer that he wanted to make. Nobody could make it for him and he had to do it on his own. That’s what he always had to do. He always had to decide things that were above his pay grade… it was the price of being the big brother, he always told himself. 

In the end, Seven decided to risk it.

He made a plan for it and worked himself into the ground for days ahead of time so he would have a day off. Those didn’t come very often and Vanderwood wouldn’t bother him as long as the work got done. If he didn’t, they would drop by and remind him what was at risk if they’d shirked off when they didn’t need to. When they weren’t supposed to. Their lives were on the line and that was the truth. 

The agency had never been like the movies. 

It was much, much worse.

This wasn't the kind of life or you could just hack something and get paid for it. They did expect him to be able to do things without a single question. He was expected to absorb information like a sponge and that was all he had to do. If he couldn't keep up with everything that they planned out for him, then it would just end poorly. It would end the same way that Vanderwood had been telling him… in his death. 

He didn't plan on dying anytime soon if he had anything to say about it. He was going to keep living because he needed to. There was no other choice in his heart. His brother needed him to be alive and that was the only way it had to be. It was the only way he was going to let it be. He was doing this so he could have the last bit of motivation in his heart to know that he was doing the right thing. 

He kept telling himself that if he saw Saeran just one more time… 

Just one more time. 

It would never happen again and he would never let it be that way. It was a selfish desire because he had already wasted a lot of time by waiting until late that morning with his brother all those years ago. He couldn't leave his brother in the middle of the night. His brother was afraid of being alone in the dark and he waited for sunrise because if he could do anything that day, it would be to leave his brother feeling hopeful instead of the gotten. 

He knew that it was going to take some time for them to be able to remove his twin brother from that place. It wasn't going to be easy and it wasn't going to be simple. He knew that it could take weeks for them to be able to remove him. 

To leave Saeran was to break his heart. The only thing that he could offer him that last day was the sunrise. He wanted to be able to wash it with him but if his twin knew that he was leaving, he would have tried to come along. He couldn't let that happen. He could have never told him no and that's why he left the way he did.

Seven disguised himself the day of the event. If there was one thing he learned in the agency, it was how to dress himself up and look so unlike himself that he could wander around without fearing people recognizing him. He did have a few favorite disguises that he liked to wear. Even though the agency had forced him to do this because he was young and young people were easy to blend in with the crowd, he had been able to learn that he actually really liked dressing up. He never would have known that before this.

There was just something very validating about being able to dress up. It made him feel good about himself which didn't happen very often. The fact that he had this skill was definitely a comfort because if he was going to break all of the rules, he wanted to make sure that he was going to be safe. Anything that would stop him from putting his brother in danger was going to be for the best.

The gallery show was being held at the same place that he met V. He knew exactly where it was and he knew how to get there. For him to be able to confront it, he decided that the best way for him to handle it was to drive halfway there, and then walk the rest of the distance and get a taxi if he needed it. He was already covering his appearance but he wasn't going to take any chances with someone tracking him. He could never leave any loose ends for himself. 

It took a little bit longer to get there, but he was able to get there in just the nick of time.

Seven allowed himself to catch his breath as he stood in the doorway and looked around the room. There was definitely a crowd that'd come to see the show, so it was hard to tell as to where everyone would be. He drew in this short breath and looked around again, trying to spot his brother in the sea of people. He felt dejected when he didn't see him, but he saw V after some scanning and found himself pausing to see what he would do. 

"Thank you all for coming today, I hope that you are able to enjoy the collections of work that has been displayed today. What I have been working on myself pales in comparison to my assistant, they prefer to remain out of sight for their privacy, of course, but they want you to enjoy their collection with an open mind. Every artist puts their heart and soul into what they capture, and the reflection on the canvas is just the feeling that you can define for yourself. Whatever you see is what is in front of you. The same feeling that the artist feels when they decide to convey their emotions." 

The crowd gave their gentle affirmation in response and cheered for his words. Though, Seven met his eyes and the man smiled back at him. It took away some of the anxiety that he was feeling. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to take the risk? 

As the crowds dispersed and began to look around, Seven decided he would do the same thing. After all, nobody would know him underneath this long wig and costume, and since he hadn't seen Saeran, he wanted to see his photos. He managed to find where they were located in the gallery after passing what he knew to be V's unmistakable photos of the sky. He always felt really good whenever he saw those photos of the Galaxy, but he wasn't looking for that today.

The photos shifted from the stars to something else entirely, something he didn't expect to see. The first photo he saw was of the sky… unlike the stars in V's hands, this was the clouds. It was the bluest sky he had ever seen. The clouds were arranged in a pattern that looked like fruits to him, like a strawberry. Saeran had always loved the blue sky… this had to be one of his photos. 

If he stepped some more forward, he would find a photo of all kinds of scenery. There were sprawling fields of flowers, beaches filled with shells, lakes and the lily pads that bathed them, even expansive gardens that looked ripe with love and care. It was overwhelming to see all of these photos because they were places that his brother had always wanted to see. It overwhelmed him to see it. Each one of those photographs was labeled with Assistant. It was all by Saeran's hand. 

His twin had been able to capture everything that he saw. It was like standing next to his brother as he was able to experience these things for the first time. He missed out on seeing his brother's face for the first time when he got to witness all of this, but seeing all of these photos gave him a chance to have that experience firsthand. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

When he came to the end of the hall, he found the last photo.

It was a photo of a single red flower. He leaned over to look at the caption to see what it was called, this one was named Gladiolus. He didn't know that word. Was it the flower? Did it stand for something? It was such an intense looking flower. It made him question the feeling that he was experiencing. 

"Gladiolus, named for the Latin gladius, meaning sword. In Rome, they stood for the gladiators that fought valiantly with their brothers in arms. They symbolize strength and integrity. In some cases, they can also mean remembering a Fallen Friend, or thinking of someone who meant everything to you," a humble voice spoke from the side as Seven stood there in front of the photograph. 

"Interesting," Seven said, as he turned his head to meet V's gaze. Couldn't alright say what he was thinking. "Does that mean that this…" 

V smiled. "Gladiolus grows often in my growing garden these days. My assistant cherishes them dearly because they’re a reminder of someone who he hasn't forgotten since the day he had to move on without them. There are plenty of portraits of flowers here, some of their meanings are listed underneath the photographs. Feel free to look at them all. I'd say this one is the most striking, though." 

This flower was dedicated to his older brother… It was a photograph meant to truly symbolize Saeyoung. Saeran hadn't forgotten about him. It had been his biggest fear that his brother would move on and forget about him. Even though he tried to live without thinking about his brother in the life he was living now, he selfishly wished that his brother would still think of him fondly, if not kindly, but at most fondly. 

Despite everything, his brother still thought of him after all these years. 

V silently stepped to the side and Seven looked beyond him to see what he had been blocking. Across from him and on the other side of the room stood his twin brother, his hair now dyed a minty shade, and green contacts obscured his golden eyes, but there was no mistake. His brother was smiling and laughing alongside those closest to V, those that were in the RFA that V had told him all about. 

Jumin Han and Jaehee Kang were conversing with Saeran, while Zen and Yoosung Kim had their hands on his shoulders, being the ones in the room who made him laugh. That was the thing he could see from his vantage point as the crowds were moving in and out of the way. But, there was no doubt about what he saw. 

It looked like a family. 

Seven felt his eyes welling up with thick tears for the first time in a very long time. He knew he was crying but he couldn't stop it. Saeran looked happy and free and it was all thanks to his Dad, V. He was speechless at that moment and he didn't know what to say. He rubbed furiously at his eyes but it did nothing to quell the tears.

This was all he ever wanted for his twin brother. 

"I bought this painting for you," V broke his train of thought by saying something. "This is yours, after all. I know that you can't have any more than this, but that doesn't mean that you can't have a piece of him with you. It's very common for the people that you know to collect, isn't it? Who's to say that you weren't interested in collecting? Think of it as my gift."

Seven wanted nothing more than to hug V at that moment. He couldn't make a scene or be recognizable in any way, but he felt like the man understood what he was trying to say and convey. "Thank you, V… thank you. I don't know what to say." 

Their time had run out as an alarm began to react on Seven's phone. V pressed his hand to his shoulder and nodded at him,  "Even if the rest of the world tries hard to keep my sons separated, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that they can have a piece of each other to hold onto no matter where they are in the world."

"Your assistant has a very bright future, foster his skills," he smiled back at him despite the pain. He watched as V headed back to the little group with their family. Saeran hugged V and said something that Seven couldn't hear, but the happiness on his face was telling enough. Laughter and all sorts of things spread between them. The group began to talk amongst themselves and by the time that V turned around to see where Seven was, the lonely hacker was gone again. 

Just as quickly as he had appeared. 

As was the photo of Gladiolus.