#i think about the approach each council member took to the story of it often because so many actions seem very deliberate

[peachypunchh]

i wanna rewatch apotheosis just for thanatos. he is everything to me for reasons i cannot properly articulate.

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 10

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,759

A/N: Sorry for the wait, I’m not going to keep broadcasting my self-loathing bullshit, but I’ve been having a hell of a time in my life. I’m working my way out of it thanks to a stellar support system (shout out @jessiembruno​​ and @txemrn​​ for being the Tumblr pieces to that puzzle). I’m also now up to 3 friends that are pregnant, which means I have 3 baby blankets to knit in the next 6 months, so that’s something that will be taking up a bit of my time. But I promise you more stories are coming, as well as some kind of ending to this story. I’ve hit the awkward place that I’ve feared since I started writing Sapere Aude; where I know where I want it to go, but I’m not quite sure how to get there. I’ll figure it out though, I promise, just bear with me.

As always, big ups to @twinkleallnight​​ for my awesome moodboard!

Tags: My tag list angels are all listed below. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

It was the day of the Royal Council meeting, Liam and Drake were planning to take this opportunity to work with Olivia in outfitting Riley with a camera or recorder for her next interaction with the Via Imperii. Mara had informed her of an upcoming meeting, which she was going to use as her opportunity. 

Liam was trying to keep his focus on the task at hand, destroying this group, instead of all of the information he had learned about them, and what they had done to him. The thing that made that difficult was the constant reminder of his betrayal and loss, in the form of his brother, who was still charged with guarding Eleanor. He and Bastien had decided that it would be too much of a risk to reassign him, or remove him from the guard entirely. The timing would, no doubt, tip them off that Riley had said something, and he was not about to put that target on his wife’s back. He was hoping he would get used to being around Thomas, but a part of him knew he would not be fully at peace with the situation, at least not without being able to confront him.

He also knew that Olivia was going to need to be brought up to speed. This meant that he would need to go through everything all over again, and he was dreading it. As he stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie, he was planning out the best ways to have this conversation. A look of concern clearly etched in his face, Riley noticed it the second she stepped into the room. 

“Hey, you’ve been getting dressed for an awfully long time. Are you doing alright?” She walked up behind him, taking him out of his thoughts. She knew he wasn’t, but he needed to tell her that, the last thing he needed was to feel cornered into talking about things. 

He exhaled deeply before turning and wrapping his arms around Riley’s waist. “Yes, just going over the plan for today.”

“And figuring out how you’re going to get through reliving everything when you tell Olivia what’s going on?” She arched an eyebrow. 

“Am I ever going to be able to get anything past you?” He smiled, placing a hand on her cheek. 

“Nope, never. I can read you like a book, Your Majesty.” She tapped her index finger to his nose, taking a brief pause to enjoy the sound of the soft chuckle that escaped him. “Maybe I can help. Olivia and I are having lunch before the meeting, I can fill her in on everything, then you and Drake can just work with her on the techy stuff.”

“You don’t have to do that, Riley.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t have to, but it will help you, so I want to.”

Liam pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “Thank you, love.”

A few hours later, Riley sat on the terrace waiting for Olivia to arrive. She had Bastien perform a full sweep of the area to ensure that their conversation remained between them. Part of her hoped it would be easier to explain everything this time. After all, she had already explained everything three times. Then she remembered the hardest part of this whole thing, it wasn’t telling people what was going on, it was seeing their reactions. She was, one by one, breaking the hearts of all of the people closest to her. While Olivia had already made peace with the shortcomings of her parents, she was about to learn the truth about what happened to her best friend’s mother. Not only was she with Liam when he lost her, seeing his heartbreak first hand, but Eleanor had taken Olivia in when she lost her parents, she took care of her as if she were her own mother. Better than her own mother, she showed Olivia love and kindness, things that her mother taught her to be weaknesses. 

As Olivia approached the table, Riley stood to greet her with a smile. Olivia was instantly suspicious. It had been a few weeks since the pair had seen each other, usually when that was the case, Riley would charge her and wrap her in a hug. An action that Olivia would begrudgingly reciprocate. 

“What’s wrong?” Olivia stood in front of her place at the table, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Good to see you too, Liv. Why would you think something is wrong?”

Olivia rolled her eyes before continuing, “Because you’re standing there smiling like the queen. You didn’t run up to me greeting me with that annoying sing-song voice.”

“I’m smiling like the queen because I am the queen, and this is how I smile.” Riley feigned offense. “Maybe I’m just maturing as a person.”

“You sent me a video the other day of cats pushing things off of counters.”

“Oh yea, that was hilarious! Cats can be real je--” She stopped when Olivia arched her brow in a silent ‘I told you so’. “Alright fine, I have to fill you in on some things.”

Once they sat, Riley filled Olivia in on everything that had happened since the Harvest Ball. The recruitment, the meeting, and all of the information she had learned along the way. As difficult as it was, Olivia remained silent while Riley spoke. She wanted to make sure to get every piece of information that was being thrown at her. 

“So that’s why Liam scheduled a meeting with you when the council lets out. He and Drake are going to speak with you about cameras and recorders that I can sneak in with me to get some evidence.” There was a silence between the two while Olivia processed the information.

Olivia took a deep breath before speaking. “How is he handling all of this?”

“I mean, you know Liam. He’s keeping it inside and not really talking about it. And when he does, he’s blaming himself.” Riley shrugged. One of the things she loved about him was how much he cared about everyone else, but it was also one of his most frustrating traits. He was always too worried about those around him to properly take care of his needs, and would often blame himself for things he had no control over. 

“That sounds about right.” Olivia’s expression softened. “He took it so hard when his mother died. He was so broken.”

“And now, it’s like he’s losing her all over again, but so much worse, because he’s questioning everything about himself.” Riley could feel the emotion building up inside of her. 

Olivia smiled sadly as she reached across the table and placed her hand over Riley’s. “It will take time, he’ll get past it, and you’re going to be a big part of that.”

Riley nodded, taking a moment to compose herself. “So, you’ll help right?”

“You’ve been through a lot the last couple of days, so I’m going to let that ridiculous question slide.”

Riley sat a little lower in her seat and raised her glass to her lips before mumbling out a ‘thank you’. 

The pair finished their lunch, and made their way to the council meeting. Liam was waiting by the door, greeting the members as they entered. Riley approached first, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before taking her place next to him. As Olivia approached, an uncharacteristically sympathetic look spread across her face before she leaned in, kissing Liam on the cheek and bringing him into a brief hug. As they pulled away, they looked at each other and nodded, and Olivia continued into the room. 

Liam wrapped his arm around Riley’s waist and kissed her on the temple before returning his attention to the council members that were still arriving. Though it didn’t seem like much, Liam knew exactly what that greeting meant, and it was just what Liam needed from his childhood friend.  

As the members of the council cleared out of the room, Riley and Liam found a corner where they could have a moment to themselves. “That went well, they really seemed to like your new proposal.” Riley smiled, smoothing her hands over the lapels of Liam’s jacket.

“I’m very excited to move forward with it.” He brushed a loose hair out of her face, placing a kiss on the newly exposed spot on her forehead. “Will you be joining us for our meeting?”

“No, I’m going to pick up Eleanor and take her outside to play. You guys need some privacy. Just make sure that if it’s wearable, you pick something cute.” She reached up and kissed him on the nose. 

Liam gave an over exaggerated gasp, placing a hand over his chest. “Riley Rys, have you ever known me to give you something that wasn’t of the utmost caliber of cute?”

“Hmm let me think, cute outfits, cute jewelry, cute baby,” she pondered, placing her forefinger over her lip as she looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, “cute husband. Nope, you’re right, you’ve given me the cutest everything since day one.” 

He laughed and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers. 

“Alright, break it up. You’re adults in charge of an entire country, you can’t keep being late for stuff because you were making out.” Drake interrupted the pair, who pulled away blushing slightly. 

“We’re the king and queen, we’re never late, everyone else is just early.” Riley teased before looking up at Liam. “We really should get going though.

Riley kissed Liam softly and gave Drake a hug before walking out of the room. Liam watched her exit before turning to his friend. “Let’s get Olivia and head upstairs.”

When they entered the Royal Quarters, Liam signaled for Olivia and Drake to sit on the couch before he took a seat on the chair adjacent to them. “Olivia, I appreciate your time this afternoon. I understand Riley filled you in on the situation.”

“She did. How are you doing?” She paused, looking over to Drake. “Both of you.” 

Drake knitted his brows in confusion. “Since when do you give a fuck about feelings...or me, for that matter?”

“Listen Drake, we’ve had our...differences over the years, but I know how it feels to be betrayed by your family. That isn’t something I would wish on even my worst enemy.” Olivia had a kindness in her voice that neither of the men expected. 

“Oh, well thanks. I’m alright. Liam really got hit with the brunt of it though.” Drake turned to the chair, he was also hoping to hear Liam’s answer. He hadn’t spoken much about everything since that initial meeting. 

Liam looked between his childhood friends, the two people in this world that knew him almost as well as Riley did, he knew that they wouldn’t let him get away with brushing the question off. He exhaled and wiped his hand over his face before responding. “It has been difficult, I have a lot that I still need to process. I cannot fully process everything without confronting Thomas, and possibly Eleanor. Which I clearly cannot do until this has been resolved. Riley would be exposed, I can’t put her in danger like that. My focus right now is making sure she is safe, and that we end this. That’s where you come in, Olivia.”

“Of course, talk to me about what kind of information you are looking to gather. We can go from there.”

They spent the next few hours talking about what kind of information they were hoping to collect, what Olivia had for equipment, and what she could get without causing suspicion from outside parties. They settled on an audio recorder embedded in a button that could be sewn into one of Riley’s existing blouses, along with a retractable pen that doubled as a camera, taking still shots every time the top was clicked. This would, not only, allow Riley to get the devices into the meeting, but it would enable Olivia to easily have everything delivered from Lythikos to the palace. 

As their meeting wrapped up, Riley and Eleanor walked through the door. As soon as Eleanor saw Olivia on the couch, she broke into a sprint. “Auntie!” 

Olivia raised her hand before Eleanor could make it all the way to the couch. “Eleanor, what did I teach you about running?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, pausing to remember. “Running is for the weak.”

Olivia nodded. “Very good, now approach like the princess you are, and greet your aunt properly.”

Eleanor carefully approached Olivia, stopping when she got directly in front of her. “Hello, Auntie Olivia.”

“That’s better.” Olivia reached out and pulled Eleanor into her lap, giving her a hug. 

Drake leaned in behind Olivia’s back and whispered in Eleanor’s ear, “You. Me. Maze tag. After Auntie Olivia leaves.” Eleanor covered her mouth and giggled. 

“I heard that Walker.” Olivia turned around, staring Drake down. “She is going to be the Queen of Cordonia one day, there are more important uses of her time.”

“She’s a kid, Liv, she needs to have fun.” 

“Alright, alright.” Riley stepped in and took Eleanor from Olivia’s arms. “Why don’t you two put a pin in this conversation. When you finally get over this fake hate that is so obviously love, you can fight over how to raise your children.” 

Drake and Olivia both snapped their heads toward Riley, who now had Liam standing beside her trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Yes Drake, then Riley and I won’t be the only ones running late for stuff because we were making out.” Liam exchanged a high five with his wife. 

Drake shook his head, “Gross. I’m leaving.”

“But Uncle Drake, you promised maze tag?” Eleanor looked up at him with sad eyes. 

“You’re right, I did. Let’s go kid.” He reached his arm out, taking Eleanor’s hand. “You won’t make fun of me like your mom and dad do, will you?”

“Never ever.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite.” With that, they made their way out the door. 

Riley shared a brief laugh with Liam before they both turned their attention back to Olivia. They spoke for a while longer, Liam and Olivia filling Riley in on what they had come up with. Olivia was invited to stay for dinner, but she had to get back to Lythikos to prepare the recording equipment to be sent to the palace. Riley walked Olivia out while Liam remained on the couch. When she returned to the sitting area, she sat in Liam’s lap. 

“It sounds like we have a decent plan in place. I hope I can get some good information in this meeting.” Riley wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and kissed him on the tip of his nose. 

Liam looked at her with a hint of sadness in his eyes as he brought one hand up to stroke her cheek. “Me too, I just wish we didn’t have to risk your safety to get it.”

“Hey, I’ll be ok, I promise.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “We’ve got this.”

He nodded. As much as he wanted to believe her, he knew this battle was so much different than any they had fought before. They couldn’t trust anyone, and there was a possibility that they were being observed at any given time. He didn’t doubt Riley’s strength or tenacity for a second. But this time, there were so many questions and unknowns about their enemy, that he feared the worst.

Riley noticed Liam falling deeper and deeper into his thoughts, she knew she needed to do something to get him back to the present. She began playing with the hair at the base of his neck as she placed soft kisses along his jaw. “You know, I don’t have to start dinner for another hour...and Eleanor is outside with Drake...any thoughts on what we could do with this sudden time to ourselves?” She asked in between kisses.

The sadness in his eyes was quickly replaced with a look of desire. “Mmm...I do have a few things in mind.” His hands traveled the curves of her body as he methodically kissed down her neck.

“Care to tell me?”

“I’d rather show you.” Liam stood abruptly, lifting Riley with him and tossing her over his shoulder, slapping her on her behind. He delighted at the yelp that escaped her at the sudden contact. He quickly carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. 

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Permatag: @anjanettexcordonia​ @athena-penrose​ @chemist-ana​@choicesficwriterscreations​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130​ @gkittylove99​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @jessiembruno​ @kat-tia801​ @khoicesbyk​ @kingliam2019​ @lucy-268​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @mile9213​ @mom2000aggie​ @pixie88​ @queenrileyrose​ @secretaryunpaid​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @twinkleallnight​ @txemrn​

Sapere Aude: @burnsoslow​ @busywoman​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​

Liam x Riley: @jared2612​

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 5 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Jackson Lee Davis/AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: With a storm approaching, you offer to house Negan for the duration and maybe in the process deal with all the nagging thoughts that have come up during all the sessions so far.

Word Count: 2232

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Keeping Your Head Up” by Birdy

Note: This one is more like an intro to the next one, but I thought I’d post it cause I’m posting these in between some angsty stories!

---------

The constant arguing was finally getting on your nerves. 

Sitting in the meeting hall, you listened to the council and other key members of Alexandria argue about the same thing as always: Negan. This week’s issue was that there was a storm coming in that would most likely bring lots of rain, at least that’s what Eugene was thinking. Whether he was right or not, there was still the question of where they were putting their prisoner so he didn’t drown in his cell. 

There were those such as Aaron and Rosita who couldn’t care less about what happened to the man, but then there were people like Gabriel who were still mildly concerned. They had locked him up, kept him fed, and Gabriel didn’t think it was fair to keep him in such a vulnerable position during the potential downpour.

Nobody wanted to leave him alone in an empty house and Aaron had even suggested tying him up in the watch post, but Michonne had shot that down immediately. 

You sat in the back row of the hall, waiting for them to stop hollering at each other. The last conversation you had had with Negan hadn’t ended well. You were tired, he was curious, and you were not in the mood for his...negan-ness at all. The realization that you and the former leader were similar had rocked you a bit. You weren’t sure what to do with the information. 

There was a part of you that wanted to just walk out the front gate and not look back. Running away had once been a pattern for you before the world had ended, but you had fought to break that streak once you joined up with this group of survivors. However, spending a few days in the woods alone seemed not too bad right now. Daryl did seem to have the right idea at times, you thought. 

The hum of arguing continued and you fought against everything you had not to yell at them. If Alexandria didn't have strong walls, you were sure the Dead would have been called from miles away with this volume.

"I'll do it," you said, more to the wall than anyone. The yelling continued so you stood up and projected your voice louder, "I'll do it!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at you, Michonne pausing mid-sentence. "What?" Aaron asked.

"I said, I'll do it. Negan can stay with me at my place for the duration of the storm." Nobody knew what to say as you offered your home to be Negan’s temporary cell.

"(Y/N)," Gabriel began, unsure how to continue.

"I have an extra room," you explained, "my fireplace works, I live alone, and I'm already his therapist, might as well be his warden too."

"It's not your job to...house him," Rosita said.

"No, it's not," you agreed. "It's probably Michonne's considering she's head of security, but she has two little ones. Now, I doubt Judith and RJ would care if Negan stayed in their living room, but this way I keep him from all of you and y'all can stop bickering like a PTA meeting." 

"And if he tries to leave?" Aaron asked, but you rolled your eyes.

"He won't," you assured him, "though, if he managed to sneak past me, all the other houses, and get over the walls in the storm, then hell, he would deserve the escape." 

"Let's try not to let that happen," Michonne said and you nodded. "Are you going to need extra supplies?" She asked simply. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how easy it was to take on the responsibility. You knew it was just a matter of time before someone spoke up and you also knew that person was going to be you.

"I think we'll be okay. I'll wait until the sun goes down and then drag Alcatraz on over.” 

You didn’t wait for a response before grabbing your jacket and exiting the hall. All around Alexandria, people were prepping for the storm. There wasn’t much they could do considering there was only a few hour warning. These were the days when you missed The Weather Channel the most. Since the world had ended, it was the small things that you missed about the old world rather than the big ones. 

Waving to Gracie who was sitting on the steps of her house, you continued on your way to your small home near the South wall. It wasn’t much and it was smaller than the rest of the homes, but you preferred it. Rick had once called it your “crows nest” which was appropriate considering your time as a sniper. 

Rosita’s house was locked up tight as you passed it and jogged up your front steps. There wasn’t much more to do as you tended to keep your house secure most of the time.

You spent the next couple of hours taping down the windows, grabbing firewood from the communal supply, and taking inventory of your food stock. The whole thing was becoming...odd. It was as if you were a kid again, making sure the house was clean for company so your parents didn’t feel embarrassed.

The thought alone made you chuckle as you finished off your chores by grabbing extra blankets from the hall closet. Glancing outside, the sun began to dip and droplets of rain were already spattering against the windows. With a sigh, you grabbed your coat and began the walk over to the cell. 

There were very few people out on the streets and you had a feeling Gabriel and Michonne had spread the news that public enemy number one would be lead out on his leash tonight. Walking by the Grimes’ house, Judith looked at you through the window. You sent her a wink and she grinned back, giving you a thumbs up. 

You often wondered where her constant optimism came from because it definitely didn’t come from being raised by Rick or by her biological father. Shane was never one to see the glass as half full for as long as you knew him. However, now that you were thinking about it, Lori did have that little spark deep down...very deep down. Perhaps Judith Grimes was one of a kind after all.

Pulling the keys from your belt, you shuffled down the steps and unlocked the large door. Stepping inside the cold room, you were surprised to be met with silence. You stepped closer to the bars and then you understood why. 

Negan was fast asleep. 

You took a moment to watch the sleeping man. There was something so innocent about the way a person slept. It was like a reset button for a night and right now he didn’t look like the monster Alexandria and others feared, he was just a man trying to get some rest in a screwed-up world. Rest that you felt bad about interrupting. 

Pulling the right key, you inserted it into the cell door and pushed it open. Negan remained asleep as you crept forward. Leaning down, you gently shook his shoulder, trying to wake him. Negan’s eyes flew open and his hand tightly gripped the arm that was resting on him. “Ow,” you grunted at the pressure, trying to pull your hand back. 

“What’s going on?” He muttered, blinking in the darkness. 

“I’ll tell you if you let me go,” you hissed. Negan finally focused on you, his brows furrowed. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked.

“Negan, hand,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he said, releasing you from his grip. You stepped back, rubbing at the skin that was sure to be bruised later. He slowly sat up and glanced at the open cell door before looking back at you. “What? Has the Queen of Alexandria finally agreed to a public execution?” he asked bitterly.

With a roll of your eyes, you reached over and grabbed the thick jacket Gabriel had gotten for him a few weeks ago. You threw it at him. 

“There’s a massive storm rolling through and Eugene thinks it’ll flood some areas. You’re staying with me until it passes. No more than two days,” you explained, crossing your arms. Negan was silent as his fingers played with the thick material of his jacket. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Why what?” you asked, exasperated.

“Why would anyone care if I succumbed to the elements?” he asked with narrowed eyes. 

“You don’t want to come? That’s fine. I don’t mind being alone,” you said with a challenge in your eyes. Negan quickly stood, shaking his head. 

“No, no, a warm house sounds very nice,” he quickly said. “I’m a great house guest.”

“Right,” you said, still feeling the awkwardness that remained between the two of you from your last conversation. Negan shrugged on the jacket and then you walked to him, producing a pair of cuffs. 

“Seriously?” he asked, staring at the chains with disdain.

“Either this or learn to swim,” you said, dangling the cuffs. Negan huffed but offered you his wrists anyway. You quickly fastened them and then took hold of his arm. “Come on, it’s already started to rain.

Negan followed you out of the cell, hesitating on the threshold for a moment. You squeezed his arm briefly and he kept walking. The two of you pushed out into the damp air and you let go of him for a second to close up the room tightly, trying to reduce the amount of water damage that was sure to come.

Turning back to Negan, his attention wasn’t on you, but on the overcast sky. His head was tilted back as he breathed in the night air. A look of content was on his face and you almost thought he was smiling slightly. It was then that you realized this was the first time he had been outside in...you didn’t know how long.

Taking his arm again, you pulled him away from his thoughts and tugged him after you. Negan kept pace with you as you began the walk home. The streets were completely empty now, but it didn’t stop Negan from looking around with those curious eyes of his. 

You didn’t know what compelled you to do it, but you easily slowed your pace, letting the walk take twice as long as usual. Looking up at Negan who was completely focused on Alexandria, you let yourself feel a bit sorry for the man. Obviously, Michonne had her reasons for keeping him locked up. You knew them and so did Negan, but you thought that perhaps he should be let out a bit more often. 

Michonne had asked you to start visiting him because she thought all the isolation was bad for him, but she also didn’t realize that it wasn’t just being alone that wasn’t good for him. He needed to be out and even if it was starting to pour, you were going to let him have this moment. 

Sliding your arm off of his, you let him wander ahead of you a bit, keeping him close, but not so much him being a dog being lead on a leash. He took the paths with grass on them and ran his hands down light posts and across fences. It was like watching someone rediscover the world and it made you oddly happy. 

“This way, genius,” you called when he began walking down another street. He quickly walked to your side with a grin on his face. “What?”

“I just never imagined you’d be taking me home so soon,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I didn’t think you would enjoy spending the night in the stables,” you explained, kicking at a loose stone on the road. 

“And Michonne and Gabe probably told you that I needed a babysitter.”

“That too,” you agreed. You finished the walk in silence. There were moments when you had to steer Negan in the right direction, but overall, you let him walk on his own without a guard. Arriving at your house, you pulled him up the steps, ignoring Rosita who was glaring at him through her window. Negan didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Home sweet home, huh?” Negan said as he stepped into your house. The fire was already burning as your pulled of your jacket and lay it across a chair near the flames. Negan was looking around at the warm room when you walked to him and grabbed his wrists, the key to the cuffs in your hand. “Really?” he asked, surprised. 

“Did you expect me to keep them on?” you asked, removing the cuffs.

“Kind of, yeah,” he admitted. 

“Well, this is not the cell, it’s my house. My house, my rules, and I say that nobody needs to wear handcuffs. So, here you go. Two days of whatever you want. The kitchen is stocked, there’s decently hot water, and the spare bedroom is the final door on the left. However, you touch my weapons and I will put the cuffs back on, deal?” Negan stared at you for a second before nodding. 

“Yeah, no problem,” he said and you gave him an awkward thumbs up before leaving him be in your living room. Walking into your kitchen, you wished for whiskey, another small thing you missed from the old world.

“This is going to be a long two days.” 

TAGS:  @thanossexual​ @yes-sir-hotchner​ @boom-bunny​ @delusionalteenagewhispers​ @sophia-gwendolyn​ @ritajammer21

[dettiot]

For a prompt, how about some Padme and Ahsoka bonding time?

The Senate was . . . big. Really, really big. 

Ahsoka held her datapad tightly, the hard plastic digging into her palms. She knew that Anakin said that Padmé--Senator Amidala--wouldn’t mind helping her, but was he really sure? What if Senator Amidala couldn’t help her? 

Taking a deep breath, Ahsoka sought calm in the Force. This extra-credit assignment for her political science class wasn’t required. It had just been strongly suggested, since she kept missing class so often to be with her master at the front.

And she could do this. It would be fine. A simple little interview, taking fifteen minutes of the senator’s time, and then she’d be gone. 

And if Senator Amidala couldn’t see her, there was always the senator from Shili. 

With her spirits girded, Ahsoka walked through the long, winding corridors to the floor where Senator Amidala’s office was located. When she stepped through the door, she found herself in an outer office, with a large window looking out on Coruscant. The walls were painted a calming blue, with paintings of what must be Naboo and other planets in the Chommell Sector displayed on the walls. 

The receptionist, a dark-haired human woman, smiled at Ahsoka. “Hello. How can I help you?”

“Hello,” Ahsoka said, bowing her head in what she hoped was a graceful nod. “I’m Padawan Learner Ahsoka Tano. My master, Anakin Skywalker, said that Senator Amidala might have a few minutes to meet with me?”

“Oh, of course. Let me just check the senator’s schedule,” the woman said. “Any friend of Master Skywalker’s is a friend of Senator Amidala’s.”

There was real warmth and friendliness in the woman’s voice, which reassured Ahsoka. After the woman looked over one of the datapads on her desk, she rose to her feet. “Let me just check with the senator. I’ll be right back.” 

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said, pulling out her comm to make sure it was set to silent. There was a text-only message from Anakin. 

Have fun talking to Padmé. Tell her I said hi!

Not for the first time, she had to wonder at her master’s relationship with Senator Amidala. It seemed so . . . informal. Like they knew each other really well. 

“Padawan Tano? Go right in.” 

“Oh, thank you,” Ahsoka said, quickly pocketing her comm and pushing aside her thoughts about her master and the senator. 

The senator’s private office was very large, with enough room for a conference table and six chairs and a small sitting area with an overstuffed sofa and chairs. That was in addition to a desk in front of another large window. 

The woman sitting behind the desk was small, dark-haired and pale-skinned. But her presence in the Force was so much larger than her physical form. Ahsoka could sense the determination, the passion, the strength of Senator Amidala. It made her smile feel less forced as she approached the desk.

Especially when the senator stood up and walked around her desk. “Padawan Tano, I’m so pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Ana--from Master Skywalker.” 

“Thank you, Senator Amidala,” Ahsoka said, giving a deeper bow. “I’m very grateful you have the time to speak with me.”

“Of course,” the senator said with a warm smile. “Let’s have a seat and you can tell me more about your assignment.” 

The senator took a seat on the sofa, her back straight and her elaborate dress perfectly arranged. Ahsoka chose to sit on the sofa beside her, holding her datapad in her lap. 

“It’s an extra-credit assignment, since I’ve missed class time due to the war and being with Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka began. 

Senator Amidala nodded, a flicker of sadness piercing her warmth and kindness. But as quickly as Ahsoka sensed it, it was gone. “Yes, Anakin explained that to me. What’s the topic?”

“What a Senator’s role is in the Galactic Senate,” Ahsoka said, preparing to take notes on her datapad.

“I could probably talk for hours about that subject,” Senator Amidala said with a laugh. 

Ahsoka smiled back. She liked the senator--and she could see why she had such a close friendship with her master. Senator Amidala was very soothing to be around. 

“I suppose I’m most interested in how you form a consensus with so many different people from across the galaxy,” Ahsoka said. 

“That perhaps is the most difficult part,” she replied. “There are over two thousand senators or representatives, with different cultures, customs and mores. Then you have the federations and guilds with their own representatives in the Senate. And the history of disputes and conflicts between various factions and representatives. Finding common ground is why it sometimes takes so long for action to occur.” 

“So how do you do it?” Ahsoka asked. 

The senator looked thoughtful, taking her time to answer Ahsoka’s question. “I think it’s a matter of remembering our common values as members of the Republic. Peace, freedom, justice--they’re the bedrock of our government and way of life. When we start losing sight of those tenets, the Republic will be lost.” 

There was something in her words that made a chill run down Ahsoka’s spine. A sense that . . . that Senator Amidala was wondering if the Senate had forgotten those ideals. 

“That . . . that makes it sound even harder to find consensus,” Ahsoka offered. 

Senator Amidala sighed softly. “I am against the current war--that’s no secret. But it has united the Senate like never before. I can only hope our unity can be turned towards diplomacy, to ending this war quickly and allowing us to welcome back those systems who fell sway to the Separatists.”

Nodding, Ahsoka scratched down a few notes quickly. Then she looked at the Senator. “I hope so, too.” 

“Is that enough for your report? I would be happy to provide you some information on the Senate’s workflow--like some schedules of our sessions and what the various senatorial committees do,” the Senator said. 

“That would be great,” Ahsoka said with a smile. “I’m so glad you could help me with this, Senator.”

“It’s my pleasure, Padwan Tano,” the senator said, rising to her feet. She walked over to her desk and picked up a datapad. Within a few moments, Ahsoka’s datapad beeped to show the arrival of the files from the senator. 

“Thank you, Senator--and please, call me Ahsoka,” she said as she stood up, assuming their meeting was over. 

The senator smiled. “You’re welcome, Ahsoka. Back to the Temple?”

Nodding, Ahsoka smiled. “Yeah. To work on this assignment and make sure Master Skywalker hasn’t done anything crazy.” 

Senator Amidala let out a soft laugh that was almost a giggle. “Don’t feel bad if you don’t succeed with Anakin. Master Kenobi has been trying for years.” 

That made Ahsoka laugh, too. “I’ve heard some stories, so yes, I know what I’m in for.” 

“Good,” the senator said, falling into step beside Ahsoka as they walked into the outer office. “If there’s anything else I can help with, feel free to contact me. I included my direct comm frequency in the information I sent you.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka said in surprise. 

The older woman looked at her for a long moment. “Sometimes, it’s nice to talk to someone who can give you an outside perspective. If you ever need that, I am happy to offer it, Ahsoka.” 

Before now, Ahsoka had never really thought much about looking for an outside perspective. She had her friends who were her own age, and people like Master Yoda and Master Plo for guidance. But in these last few months, ever since she became Master Skywalker’s Padawan, she had seen so much. She had struggled to find the words to describe her feelings, always conscious of what she should do as a Jedi. 

Perhaps . . . perhaps every once in a while, she could talk to Senator Amidala. After all, she was very close to Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi. She was trusted by the Jedi High Council. She was one of the Senators the Jedi relied on.

And more than that? Ahsoka would like to get to know her. 

“Thank you, Senator,” Ahsoka said softly, hearing the sincerity in her voice and knowing that the senator also heard it.

“Padmé,” the senator said with a smile. “If you feel comfortable using my first name. And you’re very welcome, Ahsoka.” 

They might have just stood there in a quiet silence of shared experience if not for the receptionist. “Senator, you have a committee meeting in ten minutes.” 

“Thank you, Dormé,” the senator said, before looking at Ahsoka with an apologetic smile. “Good luck with your assignment.” 

“Yes, Senator--thank you!” Ahsoka said, hurrying out before she did something silly like hug her. 

Because there was something about the Senator that made Ahsoka feel a bit like she did with her Master. Just like Anakin was a big brother to her, Padmé was like a big sister. 

It was a nice feeling. And one Ahsoka hoped she would get to enjoy more in the future.

End.

[padme-parker]

Collide / Chapter 3

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: You spend some quality time with Anakin, while also reminiscing about home.

Warnings: A few swear words, nothing else I can think of

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: this is a filler chapter, so it's all over the place. Bolded phrases are being spoken through the connection while Italicized phrases are your thoughts. !tags are open btw!

Song(s) of the chapter: Yellow by Coldplay, Mariposa by Peach Tree Rascals, and Fallingforyou by The 1975

read ch 2 here

“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.” -Yellow by Coldplay

You were jolted awake by a loud noise, a speeder bolting past your window. It took you a second to recuperate and figure out where you were. Getting up and out of bed, you walked towards your closet changing into your jedi robes. Both of your undergarments and shirt had been white. Not a pearly white, but more like an ivory white, giving the clothes a slight worn look. The trousers they had given you was a light grey, the faintest hint of blue could be seen if you looked closely. But overall, your bottoms were more grey than blue. Throwing on the black robe, you made your way into the bathroom.

You were unsure what to do with your hair, should I leave it down? Tie it up? Give myself a padawan braid? Hold on, am I even a padawan? That was a question that the jedi council would be able to answer, but for now you were more focused on your hair. I guess I’ll tie my hair up. The jedi had been kind enough to supply you with some hair ties and a comb, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. After tying your hair up, you grabbed your toothbrush and put a pea sized dollop of toothpaste onto it before brushing your teeth. You had just begun brushing your teeth when you were interrupted by a knock on your door. Left with no other choice than to open your door, you made your way over to it. Pushing the button, the door opened with a woosh.

“Good morning, Alyra. I trust that you slept alright?” Anakin’s eyes followed you as you made your way back to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Yes! The bed was more comfortable than I could ever imagine.” You might even have to smuggle one back home once you leave.

“Are you ready to leave for breakfast?” With a nod of your head, the two of you were off to the commons. The walk there was silent, but comfortable. The both of you appreciating the silence.

“Sorry, if the breakfast here isn’t as appealing as what you had at home. Everything here is bland and tasteless, just like some jedi” You let out a snicker.

“Yeah, well some food back at home isn’t that good either. I think I’ll be fine.” You reply, eyes scanning the food.

“I just hope you don’t have a weak stomach, for y’know, future missions.” After getting your food, you sit down at a barren table, Anakin taking his place next to you. Taking a look at the white, thick slop in your bowl, you decided to give it a taste. He watches as you put it in your mouth, your face scrunching up. You can hear Anakin laugh as you try to wash it down with your drink.

“Here, put some of this in it.” He hands you a light yellow liquid, it’s thick as you pour it out. You stir it around before trying it again. This time however, it has a slightly sweet taste to it.

“It’s certainly a lot better with the syrup, however I’ll probably get something else next time.” You say.

After finishing your meal, Anakin led you outside to the hangar where a two seat speeder was already warmed up and waiting for you. After jumping in and buckling up, Anakin sped off in the direction of the Market. You could feel the excitement pumping through your veins as your hair whipped around in every direction.

Quickly and effortlessly landing on the hangar, you watched as Anakin fiddled with the controls, shutting off the speeder.

“Welcome to CoCo town. Not exactly the lower levels, and not exactly the highest levels of Coruscant. Stay close to me, I don’t want you getting lost.” Walking forward, you were amazed by the buildings. The structures were very industrial-like, yet modern at the same time. Each having its own spunk and characteristics. Anakin directed you towards a small market.

“What do you need?” He asked, you listed off a few things as Anakin searched the aisles for them. Getting to the shampoo aisle, you grabbed a bottle off the shelf and took a sniff.

“As weird as it sounds, this scent reminds me of home.” The shampoo had smelt like strawberries, which was peculiar. You would have never guessed there was a similar smelling fruit on Coruscant, or any other planet for that matter. That must have been how Anakin smelt so similarly to strawberries and cinnamon. Or maybe it had been Padme’s scent that rubbed off on him.

“What’s your home like?” He pondered

“In a way, Coruscant is similar to my home. On Earth, you can find metropolitan areas with skyscrapers too. Except for the speeders, we don’t have the technology for that yet. Nor do I think we’re ready for it. People can’t even drive normally, there’d be chaos if we had flying cars all of a sudden. However, the one thing Coruscant lacks is greenery and nature. There’s an abundance of it at home. Quite frankly, I miss it. There’s no way I can explain my home without doing it justice. Just know that it’s beautiful. Maybe one day I can take you there, then you can decide if you think it’s pretty or not.” You continued to sniff all the shampoos, Anakin watched as you rambled, encaptured by your lips. After choosing your preferred scent, you put it in the basket that Anakin was carrying.

“Yes, hopefully one day I’ll be able to visit. I’ll be looking forward to it.” He commented, “What about your parents? They must be good people if they gave you a pretty name like Alyra.”

“Oh yeah… my parents are good people. I’m really glad they named me Alyra, and not some weird name like y/n…” You let out an awkward laugh, thinking about your family on Earth.

You had just recently joined the avengers, alongside Peter Parker. You were surprised at how young he was, but then again you were only 17, just two years older than him. What surprised you more was the fact that he was Spiderman. You couldn’t believe a mere 15 year old boy was swinging around Queens at night, saving people.

You were sat atop the Stark tower, watching the stars. It was something you found yourself doing often. Gazing, watching for something, someone. A sign of hope, that you weren’t alone. Ever since you were young, the stars and galaxies always amazed you. The prospect of other living beings amazed you. Who would’ve known that only 3 years later, you’d be standing in the very galaxy that you dreamed of.

You continued to gaze at the stars until you heard the soft landing of feet behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Peter. He didn’t stay the night at the tower often, so you solemnly talked to him. But conversation came easily around the two of you.

“What’re you doing up and out so late at night, Y/N?” He asked

“I could ask you the same thing. But if you must know, I’m stargazing.” You turned to look at him as he removed his mask. He took a seat and joined you. Peter craned his head up, with his enhanced vision, he could easily see the stars. Although the light pollution still made it difficult for the both of you to see the universe in its full potential. It was quiet for a moment, before Peter broke the silence.

“Why?” His question was tentative, mysterious even.

“Why what?”

“Why do you like stargazing so much?” You were stumped, no one ever bothered to ask you this nor even care if you disappeared for hours. The one thing you had yet to get accustomed to was how much everyone in the tower cared. Before, you were transferred from foster home to foster home. Never really staying long enough to form special bonds with anyone.

“It… makes me calm, gives me tranquility. A sense of peace. It’s almost like everytime I look at the stars, I feel at home. Like I belong, and that I’m not alone.” You wanted to go on, but you didn’t know how to express your feelings. Peter let out a hum of agreement.

“Do you have a favorite constellation?” His tone was curious, as were his eyes.

You pulled out your phone, opening a night sky app. You searched for the constellation before showing it to him. “Look.” You handed your phone to him, careful to not change the positioning of your phone. Peter let out a quiet gasp of awe.

“The constellation is named Lyra. It contains the second brightest star in the northern hemisphere, Vega.” You continued to tell him about the constellation, it’s meaning of the name and back story. Soon this became a tradition for you and Peter. A couple of times a month, both of you gathered at the top of the Stark tower; accompanied by your blankets, snacks and drinks. Each time, you taught him about a new galaxy or constellation.

After the second month, Peter had started calling you Star, which the other members caught on to. Soon the Avengers and the public came to know you as Star. Bright and beautiful, yet dangerous and distant.

-

You let a smile creep onto your face as you thought of the memory. “When she was younger, my mother was enamored with the stars, and the universe in general. On Earth, there’s a constellation named Lyra. I’m not sure why she liked it, but she apparently liked it enough to name me after it.” You might’ve lied to him, but there was some truth in your lie.

You had finished shopping in a comfortable silence. Returning to the speeder, Anakin offered to carry the bags, which you gratefully accepted. As you approached the speeder, you were thrown off balance by a child running past you. You closed your eyes, anticipating to feel the hard ground at any second. However when the feeling didn’t come, you open your eyes in confusion. Only to find Anakin’s eyes peering into your own. His right arm firmly held your waist, you could feel his metal fingers through his glove. You watched his lips as he asked if you were alright, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You curtly nodded your head and he began to help you stand upright.

As the child’s mother reached you and Anakin, you could hear the apologies tumbling from her lips. You told her that it was alright. The mother's scolding could be heard as you walked towards the speeder, a comfortable silence filing the atmosphere once again.

This time, you decided to admire the architecture on the way back to the temple. The organized traffic still astonished you. Speeders whizzed past you, making your hair fly. From here, you could see the Jedi Temple in the temple district. The temple stuck out from the others, but wasn’t comparable to the skyscrapers you were passing. You’ve never experienced such beauty like Coruscant, you couldn’t wait to explore more of it. Perhaps even visit the senate building.

After arriving at the hangar, Anakin docked the speeder, making sure to turn it off before helping you out.

“I have to go, maybe I’ll see you for dinner?” Your question was timid. You’d only know Anakin for a couple of days, but it felt like years.

“Yes, I’ll make sure to invite Obi-wan.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You gave him a wave before walking away. You felt your cheeks heat up as a smile grazed your lips. You still couldn’t believe you were hanging out with THE Anakin Skywalker.

You knew you shouldn’t have felt the butterflies in your stomach.

Or the tingles when he touched your hand.

Nor the rush you felt when you were around him.

This isn’t right, you thought to yourself. He’s married to Padme for crying out loud, expecting twins. But you couldn’t help yourself, before you knew it, you were falling hard. And you didn’t know why.

-

After putting away your belongings, you began to aimlessly wander the halls looking for Master Yoda and Master Windu. You had questions, and they had the answers.

“Master Yoda, Master Windu! May I speak to you in private?” You caught the two just as they exited the council chamber.

“Questions you have.” Master Yoda said.

“Yes, and I’m hoping you can answer them.”

“Come. Discuss inside, we will.” You followed the two into the council room, standing in the middle as they sat down.

“I would like some clarification. I know I am training in the ways of the Jedi, but will I become a Padawan? Or will my learning only pertain to physical training?” You queried.

“Padawan, you are not. Jedi, you are not. A learner, simply you are. Teach you the ways of the force, we will. Train you, we will.” At least the Jedi code didn’t apply to you. But considering the fact that all of your peers are Jedi, it was going to be hard.

“The way I see it, there is just no reason for you to fully train in the ways of the Jedi. After you have completed your mission, you will return back to your home planet. As you said, we also don’t have the time to completely train you, so you will only be taught fundamental information and techniques.” Master Windu said.

“What about…. lightsabers? Can I make one?” You raised one eyebrow. The question was ludicrous, but you just had to ask them.

“Yes you can, how else are you going to complete your mission on Titan?” Oh right, you completely forgot about that.

“Yes of course, how silly of me to forget. What about missions?”

“Missions won’t be a necessity, however we will send you on a few to accompany Obi-wan and Anakin. It’s vital that you work together as a team.” You let out a nod. “If that is all Miss. Alyra, you may leave. I need to discuss something with Master Yoda.” You quickly left the room, not wanting to get caught up in their business.

The two Jedi Masters waited for the doors to fully close before resuming their conversation.

-

You awake from you nap disoriented, the loud knocking on your door was incessant. You throw on your black robe before opening it, “Are you ready?” You nod and Anakin takes the lead. Instead of taking you to the cantina, he takes you to the hangar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He replied. “We will be meeting Obi-wan there.”

You got into the speeder, it was the same one from earlier in the day. He went as fast as he could, you drifted into a daydream. Yo you wanna see some real speed bitch? I’ll show you some real speed. You let out a giggle thinking about the tiktok, Anakin turns to you, “what’s so funny?”

“Umm.. nothing. If I tried to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.” You replied. He lets out a hum, before turning his gaze back to the traffic.

After landing, you find yourself in front of Dex’s Diner. Once you entered, the two of you looked for Obi-wan, until Anakin spotted him and led you over.

“Alyra, nice to see you again.” Obi-wan says as you take your seat, flashing him a brief smile.

“Have you ordered yet?” The strawberry blonde shakes his head, “No, Anakin. I was waiting for you.” He hands you a menu, hoping to find something you remotely recognized. It isn’t long before a female droid comes to take the tables order, Obi-wan and Anakin go first, giving you more time to decide. The droid finally looks at you, awaiting your response. “I’ll have a nerf burger and a photon fizzle please.” She nods her head, taking your order before taking the menus and giving the orders to Dex.

“You know, you never told me how you know Anakin.” Shit, well he can’t know about the real plan nor my slightly edited plan. What the hell do I tell him? Wait- can they hear my thoughts? I really hope they can’t.

“Before I came here… I was told the name and description of someone I should befriend within the Jedi temple. That he’d help me accomplish my mission, and of course that person was Anakin.” You said.

Why did you lie to him? Anakin’s voice reverberates in your nearly quiet mind.

Anakin, there is obviously a connection between us. I don’t know why. But don’t you think that if we told him about it, that he would tell the Council? We both know that attachments aren’t allowed.

First off, how do you know that? Second, I never said anything about forming an attachment with you. You roll your eyes.

George Lucas told me.

Of course.

The connection ended briefly as food was set down on the table. Wow, that was fast. The conversation continues as you eat your food. The burger really reminded you of a cheeseburger back at home, while the photon fizzle reminded you of boba tea. Except it was a fizzy liquid, instead of your usually milky black tea.

“Tomorrow, you start your training. We are going to assess your skills, along with weaknesses to try to strengthen them.” Obi-wan says. You give him a nod and return to your food.

Not much of a talker are you? His voice is raspy, sending tingles down your body.

Nope, I’m more of an observer.

-

Anakin pushes you to the ground, straddling your waist as you struggle to catch your breath. He holds the end of a wooden staff against your neck. “Again.” Obi-wan calls as he observes the two of you. Today was your first day of training, safe to say that it wasn’t going well.

I swear, I’m a good fighter. This time, it was you who initiated the conversation.

Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me. Flirting. He was totally flirting.

Fine. But don’t cry when I kick your ass.

This time, you're more focused. You watch Anakin’s moves, anticipating his strike. He charges, his staff clutched tightly as he runs towards you. Using the force, you call upon your staff, the very same one that Anakin had knocked out of your grasp earlier. Just as he’s about to strike, you block it, the clap of the two sticks meeting echoes. You back up, making yourself vulnerable to another attack.

Anakin charges again, you step to the side while simultaneously swinging your staff, jabbing it into his ribs. Since you didn’t have a lightsaber yet, it was only fair that they trained you with a weapon similar to it. The staff was heavy and dense, but it felt weightless in your hands. The two of you continue to duel until he knocks the staff out of your hands again. Frustrated you punch him in the ribs, precisely the spot you had hit earlier. He doubles over, grasping his waist. You waste no time in jumping up, one of your legs wrapped around his neck while the other was wrapped around his upper body. Using your weight, you force the two of you to the ground, his arm between your legs, locked into place by your arms.

If I were you, I’d tap out.

No way, sweetheart. Oh yeah, he’s definitely flirting now.

He tries to release himself from your grasp, but your grip only tightens until he can no longer move.

What’d I say? There’s a smirk on your lips as you see his free hand tap on the floor, signalling that the match was over.

“Good, Alyra. However we’re going to need to work more on skills regarding lightsabers and usage of the force. Your physical combat skills are superb. I think that’s all the training we’ll be doing today. I think you’ve bruised not only Anakin’s ribs, but also his ego.” Obi-wan says, a chuckle leaving his mouth. Anakin rolls his eyes, muttering “Oh shut up.”

Obi-wan goes to leave as Anakin and you stay behind to clean the training room.

“You know, you’re a pretty good fighter. Where’d you learn?” He asks

“Oh….um thanks. Just like this galaxy, my planet needs protection from corrupt individuals too. We try to be peacekeepers, but I think you know peace isn’t always an option.” You take a second to pause, putting the staff back in it’s correct place. “The woman who trains me, she’s extraordinary. Well technically I have two extraordinary women training me. One in physical combat and the other to help with my telekinetic powers. Or what you guys call the force. I’ve been training for a couple of years now, whereas other members of my team have been training for longer.” You explain to him.

“It must be hard, being here. You don’t really know anybody here, you don’t have any family with you. You’ve got the burden of the universe resting on your shoulders.” He says.

It must be hard for you too, Anakin. You’ve got the burden of bringing balance to the force resting on your shoulders.

“Yeah, well…. sacrifices have to be made sometime in order to save the greater population. I’m sure you know that.” You look around the room once more before deciding to leave. “See you later, Anakin.”

“See you tomorrow, Alyra.” He responds.

As you return to your quarters, you can’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach. Earlier you were energized, ready for a fight. Even now, you still feel some sparks of it flowing through you. However, the bad was outweighing the good. You couldn’t help but feel guilty yet also saddened. Anakin’s future was going to be a dark and rough one, you knew it to be true. He’s going to be put through so much pain and anguish, all because of stupid Palpatine and his stupid plans. Many people were going to perish if you didn’t try to at least help him.

Entering your quarters, there was only one thought going through your mind.

“Your destiny can change, just as quickly as the love in one’s heart can fade. Nothing is set in stone.”

[itsuki-minamy]

“K - THE FIRST STORY” (Novel)

CHAPTER 1: THE BOY NAMED ISANA YASHIRO (Part 3)

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

* Prologue / Chapter 1 (Part 01 / 02)

The boy spread his arms and legs and stretched.

"Japan is a peaceful country."

He feels sleepy and tired.

The boy who swims between reality and dreams saw a golden light in the dark.

Who is…?

A very tall man was in the golden light. An old man with a strict gaze. He has a hard body and his back is straight. An old man with terrifying intimidation and terrifying atmosphere, but the boy felt the nostalgic light of his light.

The old man opened his mouth.

"This country is over, Weissmann."

It was a heavy voice. It was like scolding and begging for something.

Suddenly, he hears someone laugh.

When he noticed, there was a man in his twenties and a white man who had long silver hair on his back and was smiling mysteriously.

Looking at the silver-haired man, the boy felt as if his head was shaking.

This is different from nostalgia. However, the intense sensation of seeing and discomfort builds up, making the lower stomach feel uncomfortable.

Quickly, the boy opened his eyes.

On the rooftop of the school, it seems that the boy had a strange dream at this time.

He was suddenly surprised by what happened, but the kitten who had curled up due to the boy's weakness, withdrew.

"Now... what did you say?"

The boy asked the kitten that way, but the kitten tilts its neck.

It is not surprising. There is no way for a cat to speak. First of all, this is just a dream.

The boy was able to fight for a fortune in a strange dream that was different from the sad dream it did not remember this morning.

He returned to the classroom at the last minute of class, but everyone in the classroom was humming with their thoughts, and it wasn't as if the class was starting soon. The boy bows his head.

"How about class?"

Mishina, who was working in the front seat, has an astonished face.

“Preparation for the school festival in the afternoon. Work hard!"

That was. It was less than a week before the school festival. The Ashinaka School festival, commonly known as Gakuen Island, which is a gigantic school, is a festival that literally lists the entire island, and the budget and enthusiasm are enormous.

To ensure that no one other than relevant persons can enter and exit the school island, you cannot enter inside the island gate without a student pass or a staff pass installed on the PDA. It is a mechanism that remains. However, on the day of the festival, the door will open and visitors from outside freely.

The Ashinaka School Festival is not just a school festival; it is also a great event that the general public outside the school is looking forward to.

All of the students took the school festival seriously with the goal of not only creating their own memories but also entertaining the people, and in December, when the school festival is held, there were often days when internal students were given allowed preparation work until midnight.

The fact that the school festival is held in December is a little different, but this is because the school festival on Gakuen Island is held at the same time as the annual shrine festival on the island.

The boy looked around the classroom. Everyone seems to be busy practicing theater, making costumes, combining costumes, and various gatherings. When he was watching the scene without help, Kukuri quickly entered.

"Hey, someone asked me to use student council! We are recruiting people who are free!”

Kukuri raises her hand and recruit’s volunteers. Although there is a small natural place, Kukuri, who is a solid, cheerful and kind person, is a member of the student council and everyone can trust her.

In the eyes of the classmates who worked, she walked over to the boy holding a kitten. If you are a leisure person, stay here, everyone's eyes said.

Go to a downtown store to collect fireworks for the event. Even if he rushes from Gakuen Island, it takes over an hour to get to the center of Shizume-cho. Certainly, he was the right one to go as he currently has no job.

Kukuri operates the mission, makes the purchase note, and hands it to the boy.

"Then Shiro, I will send you a note."

The boy thought he would say that and smiled. By the way, what happened to his PDA? He feels like he hasn’t seen it recently.

He looked in his pocket, but couldn't find it. Does he leave it in the bedroom or did he lose it? The boy is not in the habit of playing with his PDA, so he is not in the habit of carrying it.

"Don't you have a PDA?"

Kukuri rolled her eyes. The boy somehow makes a fake smile. Kukuri feels it is a bit strange, but says, "Well, I'll write it down on paper." However, on the way, he realized that...

"Oh, I can't leave school without first looking for it to use."

The pass to enter and exit the Gakuen Island gate is on the PDA designated by the school and that each student has. At school, the PDA serves as an identification card.

However, the boy did not remember wearing it these days. The boy is familiar with the secret passageways at school.

Security seems to be disabled, but the boy knew that even if he didn't have a PDA, he could do anything.

Taking the memo from Kukuri, who had a worried face, the boy laughed and said, "Ok."

The boy has many friends on Gakuen Island, although the relationship is wide and shallow.

There were many "friends" among teachers and staff, as well as among students.

Teachers who are taking lessons directly can be the best people if they really care about a particular student, (Still, old school teachers tend to listen to the boy's requests.) Staff, other than teachers, like security guards thought the boy was like a stray cat.

That is why the boy walked out of the school, not through the gate, but through the guard station. He laughed and said, "I don't use it for long, but I lost my things." The man said, "Please order another one again soon."

Even with good security, there are places where a person tends to be able to pass.

The boy was walking on the bridge connecting Gakuen Island and the mainland, reviewing the shopping notes with the kitten on his shoulder.

All travelers and those on the main island use monorails that pass under the connecting bridge, which is primarily for vehicles and few people walk on foot. However, you need a PDA to travel on the monorail. The connecting bridge is long to walk on foot, but the boy liked to walk on the bridge looking at the sea.

Illuminated by the falling sunlight, the sea is blue and glowing.

The boy leaned on his side and watched the landscape from the bridge. A gentle breeze blows with the scent of the tide, making the boy's hair flutter.

It was a beautiful and calm sight.

Suddenly he feels like staying there forever.

Good weather. Soft breeze. A kitten that clings to his shoulders, and has many bright and fun friends on the way home.

What is here and now seemed calm and terribly difficult to find.

He wondered if something smelled bad about it.

He smiles at his thoughts and is yelled at that he is in the process of being used. He must collect the fireworks she ordered and get a receipt at Shizume-cho, and he must return at six o'clock.

++++++++++

A young man was sitting on top of the building.

He is called "black dog". It is a popular name that sounds like a derogatory name, but he is proud to be the servant of a "King", so he is proud of himself.

Her long black hair in a ponytail flutters in the wind.

Shizume-cho's bustle extends below him.

He saw a boy trying to cross a crowded intersection.

A 16 or 17-year-old boy with a little pink kitten on his shoulder. He's small and has a soft girlish look, with an atmosphere that won't warn anyone.

But…

He saw a guy with a red shirt and a cap who was walking away from the boy with the umbrella a little and made his way through the crowd. The conscience of the guy in the hat is completely directed towards the boy with the umbrella, and his expression is disgusting. Probably a "Homura" member. It's a bad job as a follower, but the umbrella boy doesn't seem to notice.

Looking up at the boys from a height, he took his precious recorder out of his pocket and pressed the play button. The recorder is an important treasure that preserves the voice of his late master and guides his actions.

"The king's shadow lights up."

A deep, slightly bright voice is heard from the recorder. He closed his eyes and listened to the voice.

The boy with the umbrella walks with an unprotected face. Well, he was quiet walking around Shizume-cho city. He doesn't know if the boy has something to think about or if he's dumb.

He put his hand on the sword at his waist. The famous sword "Kotowari" entrusted by his master. He draws that sword only when he fulfills the orders of his master.

"Please look, Ichigen-sama."

He murmured to pray and stood up.

++++++++++

The boy received the fireworks that the student council had ordered at a fireworks store called "Kadamaya" in Shizume-cho. Mainly fireworks, but there are some weird types too, and it was quite interesting that the store owner lectured him on how to use them.

He leaves the store with the receipt received from Kukuri.

There is still time until dusk. Even if he deviated a bit, it looks like he'll be back at six o'clock, and when the boy started walking, something loud was heard slipping on the ground behind him.

When he looked back, he saw a young man on a skateboard hitting a metal bat and approaching.

"Eh?"

The boy opened his eyes and made his thoughts and body stiff for a moment. He visually saw the metal bat swinging toward his head, the stiffness of his body dissolving before he thinks, and he jumps with a reflex.

The downed metal bat destroys the storefront, and the desks and products placed in the store were crushed and scattered.

The boy like a fluffy rice cake on the way was surprised, looking at the young man who swung the metal bat.

A young man who looks like a high school student, wearing a knit hat and a red hoodie around his waist.

He put his foot on the skateboard, put the metal bat on his shoulder, looked back slowly and observed the boy who was confused.

What? What is happening? He wanted to ask, but suddenly the words don't come out of the boy's throat.

The young man on the skateboard manipulates a clock-shaped device on his arm and projects a screen in the air. Carefully compare the boy's face to something projected there and he laughed violently.

"Eh?"

The boy smiled with a cheat, but felt the aggressive will that was near the murder surging from the skateboard guy's body, and he stood up.

Not good. Perhaps this person does not speak. He means, he's so angry he won't have ears.

However, he is not a demon. He doesn't know why, but this young man with a skateboard is angry at "Isana Yashiro".

Why?

The boy tried to engage in boring dialogue while slowly backing away.

"Oh, what is that so sudden? I don't think you have any reason to hit me.”

The skateboarder's brow furrows. That's not good. The boy wanted to cover his face when he responded by pouring oil on the fire. On his shoulders, a kitten clings to the boy with its claws, escaping from the young man on a skateboard.

"Don't you remember being hit? You are brave, shit. So is. I will not stop.”

The body of the young man on the skateboard seemed to sway in red.

The boy scratches his eyes. It is not an error. A bright red light bursts from the young man's body.

When the boy stepped back, the red light appeared, enveloping the young man on the skateboard. Hot. The boy's bangs are slightly burned. The overflowing red light turned into a flame and filled he.

“It's not enough just to catch you. I'll kill you!"

The young man on the skateboard screamed and kicked the ground. He jumps high with his skateboard and shakes the red flame at the boy.

The boy screamed miserably and started running at full speed.

The young man on the skateboard lightly brushes the boy's hair. The sound of the street being destroyed, the explosion and the heat entering from behind, but there is no room to look back.

The boy ran to death.

Run between pedestrians and obstacles, cross the railings and choose a stepped street, he can run on routes that are difficult to ride a skateboard.

He couldn't even pretend and jump onto the street, and he fell onto the back of a truck that stopped at the signal.

With the truck that started to work, he managed to catch his breath.

The kitten looked up at his knees with its front paws. The boy strokes his head.

To be continued soon... Be patient, I will translate the chapter little by little.

[soobiniebaby]

Angels & Devils Part I: Please (don’t) Call My Name

Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

She was running late. Literally.

She set up 5 alarms for herself at 10-minute intervals, but of course she managed to sleep through them all, only waking up when she heard she had an incoming text message. When she checked her phone, she shot straight out of bed, did her best to make herself look as presentable as she could (not like she slept through 5 alarms), and all but sprinted out her front door. One downside to living on her own for the first time was that there was no one else around to wake her up in the event that she slept through all her alarms, which she often did. She was still adjusting to her more independent lifestyle, and as difficult as it was, she wouldn't trade her freedom for anything else in the world.

The apartment she moved in to was carefully handpicked, she made sure it was at a prime location, meaning it was close to the necessary establishments such as the supermarket and other nearby businesses, it was easily accessible via commute, and it was a short walking distance to MO Academy. On a normal day, at a normal walking speed, it would take her 15-20 minutes to reach the front steps of the school. But considering her circumstances now, she was hoping that she could cut her travel time to 10 minutes by sprinting.

When she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she stopped for a minute to take a breath and checked the notification. It was a text from Huening Kai, the second one from him that morning. She didn't get to reply to his first message since she scrambled out of bed as soon as she saw it.

She decided not to waste time to reply to the second text either and started sprinting even faster in the direction of her new school. She had 10 minutes left.

As soon as she saw the school's white main building, she felt her heart start to pound even harder. She felt the nerves start to settle again. The main building was a beautiful white structure that greeted everyone who entered it with tall white columns and a set of simple stone steps that looked iconic enough to be the setting for a Greek god's home in Olympus. The school's exterior looked highly intimidating, but as soon as she caught sight of a familiar face, her nerves seemed to fade away, because all she could think of was how much she missed him.

She laid her eyes on Huening Kai after what felt like a lifetime, and she was surprised by how familiar yet different he looked. Through the years, she knew that he preferred to keep his hair long but she noticed now that his hair was curling at the ends, and his face was slimmer than she remembered. It wasn't just his hair that was long either, she noticed that he had grown taller, far from the slightly pudgy boy she knew from elementary school.

As soon as she saw him, she felt nothing but warmth. She slowed her pace from sprinting to briskly walking, feeling herself relax. She wiped the sweat from her face, rubbed her palms on her thighs, and let out a loud "Ningning!" while waving a hand up in the air.

She saw his head perk up, his eyes quickly scanning the area before meeting hers. His whole face lit up and she could practically feel his excitement as he grinned and yelled "Baba!" while waving both arms in the arm, looking strangely similar to a penguin.

She was focused solely on him then, not noticing the 3 other boys standing there with him, their eyes now also glued on her as she made her way closer towards them. She was so focused on her old friend that she didn't even notice just how steep the steps leading up to him were.

As her right foot met the first of the steps, she miscalculated how far away the next step would be and her left foot missed the second step, as she could feel herself slip and start to fall backwards.

She thought she felt her heart stop beating as Kai's facial expression quickly changed from gleeful to horrified. She thought she heard Kai shout out something as she closed her eyes and braced herself for the fall.

But it never came.

Instead, she felt arms come out from behind her and wrap themselves around her. She was so surprised she froze, unable to process what was happening until she heard a voice from right behind her.

"Whoa there, that was close." said the deep gentle voice. She turned her head around to see who it belonged to. "Are you alright?"

The first thing she noticed was that whoever this person was, he was tall, because when she turned to him she was met with the necktie on his chest despite her standing one step higher than he was, and she noticed that he was dressed in a uniform similar to what Kai was wearing so she could tell that he was a student at their school. She looked up and saw that he had tousled dark hair, eyes that were looking at her with genuine concern and a hint of amusement, and lips that were so thick and plush that they would put Kylie Jenner's lips to shame. She took this boy's face in for a moment before taking a step back and straightening herself out. "I'm alright, thanks. Just didn't notice the steps, I guess." she said apologetically, embarrassed that she nearly fell. What a great first memory to make on her first day at a new school.

The boy smiled back at her, and she saw that he had a deep set of dimples on each side of his face. "That's good then. Wouldn't want to start a new school year on the wrong foot, pun intended." he said. Just as she was about to respond, she saw Kai making his way down the steps towards them along with the other 3 boys.

"And Mr. President saves the day, crisis averted!" Kai says, clapping the boy on the back. "Thanks, Soobin."

"Just doing my part in upholding the student body." Soobin says.

Kai turned to her then, arms outstretched. "Baba! You're here!" he says, enveloping her in a hug. Again, her face ended up buried in a boy's chest for the second time that day. So he grew tall tall, she noted.

"I-I can't breathe! Ningning!" she said, hitting his arm as she tried to pull her face away from his chest. "Oh my god, when did you get so tall?"

"I'm not tall, you're just tiny." Kai says, shrugging. "And when did you get so clumsy? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thanks. I just got so excited when I saw you, I ended up missing a step." she said, smiling sheepishly. "Good thing your friend was here, I would've fallen for sure."

"Good thing he arrived at the same time you did. Were you running late, though?" Kai says, turning to face Soobin. "We were supposed to meet before 7, right? Welcoming committee and all?"

"And you guys thought I'd be late." said one of the boys.

"Because you usually are, more often than not." another boy retorted.

Now it was Soobin's turn to look flustered. "Ah right, well I kinda overslept? My body clock is still adjusting to the start of the school year." he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm Soobin, by the way. Choi Soobin." he says, turning to her. "I'm the president of MO Academy's student council, and I'll be your welcoming committee for your first day here."

"He means we will be your welcoming committee." says one of the boys, the one who they said was usually late. "Hi, I'm Beomgyu. I'm the student council treasurer, and I'm not the one who was late today." he says, smirking at Soobin.

"Almost late, and I guess there's a first time for everything. It better be the last." another boy said, scolding Soobin and Beomgyu. "Hi, I'm Kang Taehyun, vice president. Welcome to MO Academy" he said, shaking her hand.

"And I'm Huening Kai, their public relations officer. But you already knew that." Kai says proudly. "Guys, this is my dearest childhood friend. She's the best." he says, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Her name is–"

"B. You can call me B." she says, ashamed of her name. She gave Kai a look. "My horribly socially unacceptable full name shall not be spoken out loud." She said, looking pointedly at her old friend, knowing he was aware or how much she disliked her name.

"But they say that a name is a blueprint of the thing we call character." another voice says as the last of the boys approaches her. The boy with blue hair. "What's in a name? I say, just about everything." he says, looking right at her. "In case you didn't catch on, this was just my cool way of asking for your name. So what is it?" he smiles at her, and somehow it almost felt like a challenge.

"Don't mind that, it's just Yeonjun being Yeonjun." Kai says, laughing.

"Well now that I know all your names, I guess it would only be fair that I tell you mine? Even though you'll probably find out soon enough anyway." she sighs in defeat. "My name is... Baby. Han Baby." she says, her voice dropping low like a whisper. "I know, it sucks. I honestly don't know what my parents were thinking, I've hated my name since I was a kid, so I'd really prefer it if everyone just calls me B instead."

"Except for me, Baba!" Kai says, squeezing her shoulders.

"I like it, though. Baby." Yeonjun says. He extends a hand towards her. "Hi, Baby. I'm Yeonjun. The secretary of the student council."

"Hi, Yeonjun, nice to meet you. Please don't call me by my name, just call me B. I'm not used to being called by my name." she says, taking his hand and shaking it.

He smiles as he says "Nah, I believe everyone should be called by their names. I'll stick to yours."

"There's no changing his mind, Baba. Yeonjun always does things his way, there's no point in fighting it." Kai says, shaking his head. "And now that you've met the student council/my best friends/your welcoming committee for the day, shall we start the tour?"

"Hey, that's my job." Soobin says, stepping in front of Kai. "But yeah, let's begin. We better hurry since first period starts at 8 so we have less than an hour to finish this. Follow me." he says, and with that, her first day at her new school began.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

There were a few things that she had come to learn from the tour led by Kai and his friends.

First, there was more to MO Academy than she had initially thought.

Yes, she did extensive research on which high school would be best for her to transfer to, but all she took into consideration were the academic achievements that the schools held. MO Academy was one of the highest-ranking schools in the country that produced outstanding students who often topped the college exams every year. What she didn't know was how diverse the school was, and how big of deal extracurricular activities were. Apparently, they were huge. Once a week, every Friday, the school had club days wherein the students spent the whole day in their respective clubs, and the school offered a lot of different options, which she would learn more about on Monday next week in what they called "Club Recruitment Day."

"There are lots of clubs available here, so it's impossible for students to not wanna join any of them. I, myself, am part of 5 different clubs." Soobin said as they walked through the school grounds.

"I'm part of 3, but I'm president of the Art club, so please check us out Baba." Kai said, pouting at her. "You like art, right?"

She liked and appreciated art, but she wasn't much of an artist. "I'll make sure to check it out, Ningning. When can I?" she asked for the sake of their friendship.

"Oh, you'll have a lot time to learn about all the clubs. We've arranged an event next Monday wherein all the clubs have exhibits and get the chance to recruit new members, and all students get the chance to see what clubs might interest them." Taehyun informs her. "In fact, Club Recruitment Day will be the main agenda for our council meeting on Wednesday, right guys?" he says, turning to the other boys

Beomgyu groans. "Council meetings already? But it's just the first week of the school year."

"It shouldn't take too long, we'll just be finalizing a few things. Plus, each club president will be there, so it'll be more like we're facilitating the meeting rather than actually participating in it." Taehyun said.

"Well I'm a council member and a club president, so that's double the workload for me." Kai says, shrugging. "Oh right, Yeonjun's a club president too."

"You are?" she asks, a little surprised. So far, Yeonjun gave off such a laid back cool vibe that she didn't think he'd be invested in school activities. "What club is it?"

Yeonjun smirked at her. "Take a guess?"

She didn't know him enough to make an accurate guess, so she said "I think I'll just wait and see next Monday."

Second, Kai and his friends were in different grades.

Kai and Taehyun were Sophomores, Beomgyu was a Junior, Soobin and Yeonjun were seniors. That didn't mean that they didn't share any classes, though.

"Kai and Taehyun are the youngest members of the student council and they have a bunch of classes together, although Taehyun has a few advanced classes with higher grades, so he shares a couple of classes with us." Soobin explained.

"Yeah if Taehyun wasn't such a big nerd and qualified for Junior maths, I wouldn't have any classes with any of these guys." Beomgyu said. "Plus if Yeonjun didn't get suspended last year, then Soobin wouldn't have any co-council members in his classes..." he trailed off, noticing the look that Yeonjun was giving him.

"You got suspended last year? What for?" she asked, glancing at Yeonjun, not noticing how the quickly the other boys had tensed up.

"For reasons that only god can explain." Yeonjun said dismissively.

"Maybe it's so I'd have one of my best friends to spend all my classes with." Soobin said, putting an arm around Yeonjun's shoulders. "Isn't that right, Yeonjunie?" he said, puckering his lips teasingly. Yeonjun smiled as he shrugged Soobin off.

"Well Baba, I know we haven't seen each other a lot since elementary, but at least we'll have all our classes together right?" Kai said, trying to change the topic. "We'll be able to catch up in no time."

"Actually, I was put into a few advanced classes too." she says, recalling her class schedule. "I've got Junior Foreign Language class and Senior English."

"Oh, Senior English? Which period?" Soobin asked curiously. "Maybe you'll be classmates with Yeonjun and I."

"If I remember correctly, I have Junior Foreign Language class for 3rd period and Senior English for 5th period?" she says. "I don't really memorize my schedule yet."

"Oh, we should compare our schedules. We may both be Sophomores, but we might not be put into the same classes." Kai said, suddenly worried.

They did compare schedules, and luckily enough, she shared 4 periods with Kai and Taehyun, 1 period with Beomgyu, and 1 period with Soobin and Yeonjun. And they all shared the same lunch breaks and Gym periods every wednesday, though they had separate classes per grade.

"Well, at least we'll all be at the gymnasium once a week, I guess? It’ll be like we’re all in one class." Beomgyu said.

And third, Kai and his friends were popular.

Insanely popular.

Throughout the entire duration of the tour, whatever building they went to, whatever hall they walked along, whatever classroom they passed by, there were eyes on them wherever they went. At one point, the boys waved at and greeted some of their other friends hi along the way, and the other girls around them actually giggled. If she didn't know any better, she'd think these boys were celebrities. She wouldn't be surprised if some of the students would actually start taking their phones out and taking pictures of them. They were that popular.

"Are you guys, like celebrities or something?" she asked, getting uncomfortable with the amount of looks they were receiving. "Everyone's staring at you guys."

Kai laughed. "They're probably staring at you. I mean, you're the new student so it's no surprise that everyone's curious."

Just then, she saw a couple of girls staring at Kai and sigh longingly. "No, don't think so, they're definitely looking at you." she says to him, laughing slightly. "I didn't know my dear little Ningning was such a heart throb." she teased.

"That's Hyuka for you, attacking ladies' hearts." Soobin teased. "Pretty sure every girl in their grade has had a crush on him."

"Baba was probably the first though, isn't that right?" Kai says teasingly.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah yeah whatever, I was young and naïve."

"And I was adorable, and you loved me." Kai said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"You know I still do, but god not like that." She says, laughing. "Never again."

"Wait, you had a crush on Huening Kai? Our Hyuka?" Soobin said, surprised. The other boys were also looking at her, their interests piqued.

"Yeah, Ningning was my first crush. And he'll never let me live it down." She admitted, rolling her eyes jokingly. "But we were like 8 years old! Once I really got to know him, I realized he was just the friend I needed. Those crush feelings are long gone."

"Oh, I see I see." Soobin says musingly, wiggling his brows at Kai.

"Come on, it's not like I'm the most popular guy here." Kai says defensively. "I mean, Soobin's the student council president. And Yeonjun's the star of the dance club. They're like the school's golden boy and it boy put together in one class."

"Plus, Taehyun's the school nerd that girls somehow find attractive." Beomgyu said, shrugging his shoulders. "He's got brains and beauty, I guess."

"You mean brains and brawn?" Taehyun said, raising his brow at Beomgyu. "As if you're not so loveable yourself, Mr. Editor and Chief."

"Editor and chief?" she asks. "Of what?"

"The school newspaper? He runs it. Plus, he's one of the best photographers and videographers on campus." Taehyun explains. "When people see him, their first instinct is to smile, as if he's always got his camera pointed at everyone all the time."

"I can't say I'm surprised, who wouldn't smile upon seeing this face." Beomgyu says, flashing a cheeky smile.

"Sounds like you're all campus heart throbs, then." she says. "I feel honored to be in your presence."

"Well if I'm being honest, I'd say we're not so much of campus heart throbs, more like..." Soobin began, but Beomgyu interrupted him.

"The TxT?" Beomgyu says.

"The, what now?" she asks, very curious.

Soobin laughs, slightly embarrassed. "It's nothing, it's just a sort of nickname that everyone calls us."

"A nickname? What does it mean?" she asks, trying to understand what it meant.

"Um, we're not exactly sure. Someone once told me it meant 'Tall & Terrible' or something like that, but I think people just make up new meanings for it anyway." Soobin explains.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's what it meant. You guys are giants." She says, amused. "You guys must really run this school, then."

"If by 'run it' you mean manage the student body as student council officers, then yes, that's precisely what we do." Taehyun says matter-of-factly. "Now, let's wrap this up so we can make it to first period on time."

It was a little later when she found out just how popular Kai and his friends really were.

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Tongues of Fire- Empire Week Parade Scene

I assure all of you that I am working most diligently on the Magnificent Scoundrels stories.  Currently, I have two just about finished.  However, I feel bad about not posting anything for a while, so I will give you this.  It is the intro scene of Thomas Drake’s galaxy.  I hope you like it.  If you have any requests for stories, please feel free to ask.  

“One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is, that nature disapproves it, otherwise, she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ass for a lion.” -Thomas Paine, Common Sense

Vorketh, Capital of the Empire of Prosium

It was Empire Week.  A celebration of all the achievements of the Empire of Prosium; technology, art, architecture, culture, and, definitely the most important to any proud Imperial citizen: military.  It was day one of the celebration, and today, on the broad streets of Vorketh Prime, the capital city of the capital world, the Empire of Prosium gave a military parade for all to see.  People and aliens from throughout the galaxy came to see the main parade of Empire Week.  Quite simply, there was nothing else like it in the known universe.  The entire Imperial Ninth Army would march through the streets, in a massive display of strength that no one else in the galaxy could even hope to match.  Fighters and gunship transports would buzz overhead in perfect formation, while massive ships of the line, this year led by the dreadnought Executioner, could be seen in low orbit above the planet.  The Emperor himself would be present at the ceremonies, as would every single monarch of the various solar systems of the Empire, including King Alderic of the Zerith System.  

Alderic looked across the raised platform along the parade grounds to where the parade would start, the Citadel of Vorkerth.  The sky was a grey color, lit well enough that people could easily see, and quite common on Vorketh, unlike the rich blue sky of Earth, the original homeworld of the human race.  The white stone architecture of the capital streets stood out against the jet black of the world’s massive planetary defense cannons.  He looked around.  There were a great many Federation humans here, enough to outnumber even the other various species the Empire controlled.  Odd, but it mattered little.  There were always a lot of them here.  He sighed to himself.  The Federation.  So argumentative.  So much...lack or purpose.  Everyone within the Empire of Prosium knew what they wanted to become, and if they didn;t, they served in the military.  Although, he himself never wanted to be King of the Zerith System, oddly enough.  But sometimes, circumstances were out of the control of individuals.  

He was generally thought as a handsome man, and many thought he looked like a more rugged version of the Emperor.  He was wearing his full kingly regalia, complete with cloak, crown, and sword.  His various medals hung on his chest, pinned on what the Empire called a tunshi, or a cross between a tunic and a shirt.  Black pants with a gold stripe running vertically down the leg covered his legs, and black dress boots that ran up to the knee protected his calves.  Next to him stood two of his closest friends.  Queen Naatz wore almost the exact same thing as he did, the only difference being she had several different medals than he did, and the crown from the system she ruled had slight variations in the design.  King Wachek had the same base design, but, fitting his personality, it was much more flamboyant.  Everything was styled and hugged his slim form perfectly, and a shorter crown than Alderic or Naatz covered his slicked back blond hair.  At his side was a thin rapier, unlike the heavy medieval-style Imperial Guard swords carried by Alderic or Naatz.  Each of the three monarchs ruled a somewhat mediocre system, not extremely important to the Empire, but not some backwater hovel, either.  This was what originally had brought the three together.  They were no one extremely important within the Council of Monarchs, but they still held some sway.  They were all savvy enough to realize that by banding together, they could get a lot more done than they ever could separate.  That political alliance had, eventually, turned into a fast friendship.  

Wacheck walked over to where Alderic and Naatz stood, carrying a glass of champagne.  He brandished it like it was some long lost priceless work of art.

“Look at this!  French champagne from Earth.  One of the Federation ambassadors brought an entire cargo crate of it for the festivities.  I must say, I think I like it better than any of the stuff we make.”  He took a sip.  “Of course, they’ve had more practice making it.”  He turned a wry smile towards a group of Federation ambassadors, who were talking with the group of high officials clustered around the Emperor.  The entire pavilion was packed with officials from every major government and race in the galaxy, including every human one.  The Federation ambassadors were being, as per their nature, extremely sauve, lavishing compliments upon all of the high Imperial officials.   The Guild officials were, as per their nature, trying to smooth talk several Imperial generals into buying Guild products and weaponry.  And, of course, the Union ambassadors were glowering in the corner.  Several Imperial officials were smirking in their direction.  Typical Union of Equality.  All bark, no bite.  In contrast, the Empire was all bite, no bark.  

What appeared to be a Dracus general approached Alderic’s group.  The Dracus were a warrior race, and had what most humans thought to be the body and legs of a kangaroo sitting on its haunches with the head of a lizard.  They were bipedal, and while they weren’t close allies with the Empire, they respected the Prosium for their martial traditions.  This one was wearing red ceremonial armor, which made it of very high rank.  Alderic couldn’t tell the difference between the male and female of the species, so generally he just asked Dracus their names and used that.  

“Magnificent parade,” he said, in the growly, guttural voice of the Dracus.  Alderic turned to him, or, at least, he thought it was a him, and smiled, careful not to show his teeth.

“Why, that you, General…”

“Itchernicer, King..”

“Alderic.  King Alderic.”  Itchernicer bowed and gave the traditional Dracus hand gesture greeting, moving his fingers to his lips, then his forehead.  He looked like he was about to say something else, but then the loudspeaker cut in.

“Ladies, gentlemen, species from all over the galaxy, the parade is about to begin.  If you or your species has sensitive hearing, you should wear protection.  Enjoy the parade!” With a flourish, the Emperor, flanked by four members of the Imperial Guard, entered the balcony.  The Emperor waved to the crowd, who let out a massive, roaring cheer.  Commander Robert Rorrenbrand, leader of the Guard, was several steps behind the Emperor with two more Imperial Guardsmen.  He was average height, with a rounded, scarred face and short cut black hair.  He was also, Alderic knew, despite his unimpressive looks, quite simply the best soldier in the galaxy.  Some might think these security measures harsh, unreasonable, but those people were not from the Empire of Prosium.  As any loyal citizen will tell you, the Empire never messes around when security is concerned.   

Itchernicer, Alderic, Naatz, and Watchek turned towards the Citadel.  The massive monument, built of white marble, towered over the wide streets.  White marble steps cascaded from the front of the building, lit by the fires of massive braziers.  Massive statues of Imperial Heros, some twenty feet high, towered above the streets.  Every culture had heroes.  Some thought that heroes were people who came up with new technologies, or those who were pious and strove to help others.  Not Prosium.  While all of those were traits and qualities to be admired, the people of Prosium believed that the only way to tell a true hero from all the rest was to forge them on the battlefield.  Only where shot and shell screamed, where man and alien alike died choking on their own blood and crying in agony, could a true hero come forth.  True heroes were those who fought and often died for the Empire.  True heros were not some scheming politician or sniveling scientist who strove to convince everyone that they and they alone were right; true heroes were the ordinary men, women, and aliens who performed insane feats of bravery in places that shred normal people’s sanity.  True heroes were like Private Stebban Wyric, who fought to the last bullet of his handgun to give the battered remnants of his regiment time to fall back from an overwhelming counterattack.  True heroes were the members of the Imperial 414th Army Regiment who fought to the last man and the last round to protect their standard.  True heroes were like Governor Isin Habbic, who volunteered to ram a cargo ship into a terrorist vessel holding a thermonuclear bomb to save his people and planet.  True heros were like Mary Strolheim, who called in an orbital bombardment on her position to repel an overwhelming enemy force and eventually win the War of Kraken’s Nest.  True heros were the selfless who laid down their lives for their people, and they all had one thing in common.  The exceptionally brave were awarded the medal and title Hero of the Empire, and, if they still lived after their feat, everyone, from the lowest factory worker to the Emperor or Empress themselves would salute them.  And, every single Hero of the Empire had their name, image, and deed emblazoned into the stone walls of the Citadel’s Hall of Heroes, an entire section within the Citadel of Vorketh that was dedicated to the preservation of their legacy and guarded day and night by the elite soldiers of the the Emperor’s personal bodyguard.  Just as the children of the Federation knew the names of human history’s greatest scientists and leaders, and the children of the United Guild of Merchants knew the names of all the great company leaders, and the children of the Union of Equality knew the names of all of Communism’s great heroes and leaders, so too did the children of the Empire of Prosium know the names of most of the Heroes of the Empire.   And it was from the glorious Citadel that housed the Hall of Heroes that the parade began.  

Legions of black uniformed warriors, the dauntless men and women of the Imperial Army’s 9th Army, 56th Regiment, weapons held at the ready, marched in perfect lock-step down the steps of the Citadel.  Massive crimson flags, adorned with the black eagle of Prosium, snaked their way down the buildings bordering the parade ground.  Alderic took in a deep breath of Vorketh’s sweet air.  He was glad to be a part of the Empire.  The sweetness of the air was suddenly snached away, to be replaced by the ozone smell of plasma jets, as a squadron of Naval fighters screamed overhead at a quite frankly alarmingly low altitude.  The crowd cared not, though.  They cheered all the louder at the jets’ arrival.  

The soldiers reached the base of the Citadel, and started to march through the streets themselves.  Loudspeakers placed upon the parade route struck up a military march as the infantry was joined by ranks of vehicles.  Black and grey tanks, armoured carries, and mobile missile launchers drove expertly through the throngs of soldiers, their hatches opened and each commander giving their salute to the Emperor’s box.  Alderic looked around, taking in the entire parade, looking through the clear grey sky at the forms of massive capital ships hoving in low atmosphere.  It was, indeed, a fine day to be a citizen of the Empire of Prosium. 

[doctolka]

The Council of Dembirom

::: This is one of the chapters from my WIP, that I wrote the other day... it'd be nice if people could read through and give feedback... but if you don't feel like it, I do hope you enjoy it :::

A Guide to my world building...

Indistinct voices rebounded off the walls as they approached the council chambers. Vevien had found her knight, and the two walked just ahead of Edlaise, arm-in-arm.

While she did not envy them their attraction—to put it mildly—but she did think it had a time and a place. The fact that her consort was a Menatan was no help. It would be far better, and far more proper, for her to chose a member of their own race.

But, you do have to admit he’s a damn fine warrior, she told herself, watching the large man walk, dwarfing her sister. Yes. He was a good fighter. He didn’t use modern Elatan techniques, so when he fought it seemed foreign, and poor quality. But it certainly got results.

It would do them credit to have two of the fiercest warriors on their side of the argument—and the added benefit or royalty.

“Listen here, Locraou! We don’t need that. It would just see the womenfolk killed and the men demoralized! There’s no need for an army, and most certainly no need for it to incorporate—”

“Ahem,” Vevien cleared her throat. Always proper, she was. Never wanted to get an ill-gotten gain over her political opponents. Even if it would save everyone involved a great deal of time and trouble.

“Ah. Princess Vevien, Sir Halifax. Lady Edlaise. Won’t you come in? We were just thinking of getting started without you,” Tuvaulle said, standing and bowing. The rest of their allies, Montre, Libua, Selette and Jacques followed suit. Their opposition remained dutifully seated, frozen under Bedour’s sharp glare.

“It seems to as though you had already started without us, Mr. Tuvaulle,” Halifax said, helping Vevien into her seat. He knew to allow Edlaise to seat herself, thank you very much.

“Listen here, Menat,” Bedour scowled, “you are a guest, and so have no place here but by our leave. You will hold a civilized tongue or you shall be dismissed!”

“Oh, leave off Bedour,” Edlaise said, cutting of Halifax’s reply, “He was stating a simple fact, based on a simple observation! If you take such offense to fact, then perhaps you would like to explain something that does not offend you, such as the fairyland you live in, in which we do not need a standing army to defend ourselves.”

“I—”

“Enough, the both of you!” Tuvaulle interjected, cutting of the beet-faced Bedour. “This is not our business here today, to call names at each other! That’s what we did all last cycle, and I tire of it. As moderator of this session of the Council of Dembirom, I move that we review the arguments on the topic of the defensive army, and of the power of the crown over said army, and then come to a vote. Mr. Bedour, since you are currently the offended party, would you like to begin?”

“I would indeed, Mr. Moderator,” Bedour said coolly, collecting himself as his face bled down to its usual brown.

“Ahem. As you all know, Dembirom has not had a standing army since our grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather’s time. It has been over a quarter a millennium since last we had need of an armed force besides our own city guard, which is perfectly capable of defending even our most remote of settlements from the predations of the lawless and of wolves. It goes without saying, therefore, that we really have no need of an army, of a military, because we have no one to wage war against, and no one who is waging war against us!

“So why does the most recent generation of the royal family demand, incessantly, that we have grave need of a large force of armed men, who will obey only them? I mean not to sound concerned, gentlemen,” he said, pointedly ignoring the three women in the room, “that the royal family seeks to disband this great council of justice and fair law! I do not mean that in the slightest, since we all know the royals are such firm, just people, with no ulterior motives given into their heads by foreigners! But if someone were to—say—dupe the royal family, through criminal wiles and snake-like charm, why, they could gain control very easily of new army, answerable only to the king or queen, or prince or princess, and turn them against us! Why, such a person could weaken us considerably by disbanding this council by force, and open the way for greedy, foreign dictators to thrust their way into this grand city of light, and desecrate our way of life!

“I mean not to sound hysterical, friends. I beg that you do not take me for some lunatic for my very real fears. But I do fear. I fear what it might mean for us, for our people, if the army is used as a mechanism to displace us! I worry, true, about foreign invasions! But do not let lies of Other-Kin and tales of Twisted Children within the borders of this vale reach your ears! They are mechanisms by which a foreign power might seek to placate us, make us think that we must raise an army for the crown to defend our lands, to deal with this non-existent threat!

“Please, gentlemen. I beg of you. Do not allow this Menatan spy to harry your ears with tales of dangerous monsters from children’s stories. The real danger, the very real danger, is that this man gets an army raised which he can swiftly swoop in to control. He seeks a coup with our own people. He seeks to subjugate us to endless years of slavery under the grip of the cruel Menatan kings. We must not give in. We must not allow our people to suffer.

“That is my plea, good gentlemen,” he said softly, burying his face dramatically in his hands, “I pray to Alimis that what I say does not come to pass….”

“Thank you, Mr. Bedour. Do you cede the floor?”

“I do.”

“Very good. Princess, do you care to submit your claim?”

“I do, Mr. Moderator,” Vevien stated slowly, “but first I would like to call witnesses. Sir Jason Halifax, Knight of the Cloud?”

“That is… acceptable,” Tuvaulle said as the knight took to his feet, Bedour mouthing obscenities. “Sir Knight, do you swear to give not false testimony, upon your honor as a knight and a gentleman?”

“I do, Mr. Moderator.”

“Very good, then. We will hear your story.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moderator, Council of Dembirom,” he started, “I am no eloquent speaker. I am no politician, seeking to do with slight of words that which I cannot do with slight of hand. I would like to state, before I begin my testimony, that I detest the slander which the Honorable Mr. Bedour has lain against me, and were I in a Menatan Kingdom I would ask for justice by the blade, for my honor is cleaner than a fresh slate.

“However, being not in a Menatan Kingdom, and perhaps being unfamiliar with the ways of the Esteemed Elatan people, I will forgive this slight, and pay it no heed. Now, onto my account.

“I arrived here, in this Vale of Dembirom nigh on one year ago, following the beckoning of our Lord, Alimis, king of the Sky and husband of the Earth. I was, you see, following in the footsteps of my ancestors, knights in their own right, who did strive to rid this world of the most vile of Other-Kin. I make no game of it, that I was in ill being at the time which I entered this valley of light. It had been several months of tracking this monster through the wilderness, herding it this way and that, trying to keep it away from Menatan settlements, and the homes of innocent Second Children.

“But imagine my surprise, when I reached the heights of this vale, and saw within the gleaming gemstone that is Dembirom, though I knew it not at the time. What I did know, however, was that before me lay a relic, which must not become sullied by the hands of violent Other-Kin, or extremist Second Children, or at worst a Twisted Child!

“And so I harried no more, but sought to end the foul beast which I was tracking. I am sure that many of you have heard this portion of the story before, and so I shall be brief in its accounting. The beast was, in fact, an ogre, with large, protruding teeth and a stubbed nose, spade ears and a balding scalp. It was several men high, and thrice the weight of a horse, and its hue was a wash-out violet.

“I came upon it as Alimis neared his apex, and as it drew close to your grand city, the many mirrors flashed out in divine light, blinding the creature. This is the moment which I took to strike. There is little honor to be had in striking a fellow man when he is blinded, or when he has fallen, but none—save for the foolhardy or cruel—would pass up such an opportunity when there may be a single innocent life yet to be spared.

“Our battle was furious, despite my advantages—my blade was sharp, my plate and will rock-solid, and not to mention my clear vision. The brute was terribly strong, and its great, sweeping blows rent my armor in places. My ribs, I will freely admit, still ache from that day.

“But my conviction was sound, and though I took many a wound, I finally dismembered the beast, and fell to my knees in the bloodied snow, exhausted. And I felt that surely, this must be the end, for I was in no condition to make the long trek back to my fellow Menatans!

“But lo! Alimis was in a kindly mood, and looking down upon me, he sent out an angel, a woman who I took at first to be one of Aorynan, and she helped me to my feet, ignorant of the chill of the wind and the blood which fell from my rent armor, and she supported me as I entered this haven in the mountains.

“And here, I have remained since. I would not eschew such a grand debt to betray your people. I fear that such a notion would only occur to one who would. I cannot stress to you, most Honorable councilmen and women, the need for a large, well-trained military force, even if it is as small as a simple militia. For you were in luck that day that I arrived, and have been in luck since that these beasts have not returned. Or perhaps I should say, have not returned often.

“I urge you to consider this threat seriously, and my word seriously, though I be not one of you venerable subjects. I finish my accounting, and my plea, Mr. Moderator,” Halifax said, bowing sharply to Tuvaulle, “and I thank the Council for hearing it.”

“Very good, Sir Halifax. Thank you for your testimony,” Tuvaulle said, returning the bow in a short manner, “Princess Vevien, do you now wish to make you claim?”

“If it pleases you Mr. Moderator, I would like the council to hear another accounting, today.”

“This is most irregular, Princess. It would have been prudent of you to notify the council before your opposition made its claim known.”

“Prudent, perhaps, Mr. Moderator. But it also would have been prudent for the council to have waited until my arrival—and the arrival of my entourage—to begin their debating.”

“I… suppose that is amenable. Very well,” Tuvaulle said, with a twitch of his lip toward Vevien—he had to know their plan, now, “your second witness may make their testimony, should they take their vows to honesty”

“Thank you for you curtesy, Mr. Moderator. Lady Edlaise?”

“Of course, Princess. Good Lady, do you swear to hold to the truth on your honor as a Lady and representative of the Royal House?”

“I do, Mr. Moderator.”

“Very good. The council will now hear your testimony.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moderator, councilmembers. As you all know, I am the second-born of our king, Jon Lo’Bourelle, and so am free to pursue whichever career I deem fit, so long as the eldest of us lives.

“I have chosen, in no small part because I enjoy working actively to help our people directly, to pursue a warding career, to keep our borders free of all sorts of dangerous creatures, whether they be ordinary wolves or bears, or Other-Kin or even, dare I say, Twisted Children.

“These past cycles have seen to it that I have been increasingly busy, in this regard. Within the past cycle alone, I have killed six Other-Kin that have strayed into our borders. The first five of these were but Greatwolves—which are not beasts to laugh at—and I slew each of them, though it was no simple task.

“Today, I encounter the sixth of these intruding Other-Kin,” she continued. How many times had she rehearsed this speech in her head an in the mirror and to Vevien and Sir Halifax as they prepared for this meeting? It must have been at least a few hundred. “It was nota Greatwolf, much as I might wish that it was. No, this was not something so simple. Today, I slew an ogre.

“Now I see that some of you gawk, and mutter that a woman could never manage such a thing. In this you are wrong. I would gladly bring you to the corpse later, or send for it to be brought here immediately, if you wish. No? Are you certain? Very well.

“Here I must describe the beast for you. It was much as Sir Halifax has described his own ogre—it was quite large, of course, many times the bulk and weight of a bull, with large, flappy ears and tusk-like teeth which jutted from its jaw—but I must say that I would call its coloring more of a purple-gray.

“Regardless of the description of the beast, I fell upon it in the woods south of the village Giros with a swift array of arrows, which did enrage and confuse it. As it thrashed about in the copse, I jabbed at its face from the brush with my spear. I retreated when it finally saw me, smashing the bushes behind which I had hid with one great paw.

“I danced backward, unafraid of tripping—for I know that terrain well, it seems that is the general area that most of these monsters come from—and continued jabbing at its eyes, slipping about it as it charged my.

“I do believe that I managed to blind it—at least partially—before it managed to bat away my thrusting spear and disarm me. But I did still have my trusty sidearm, this arming sword you see here, and I closed on the beast as it clutched at its face.

“Quickly, I scampered up its frame, leaping from bent knee to the thing’s shoulder, where I took a mighty swing at its long neck, clutching my blade in both hands, and severed its spine with a sharp blow. I must admit that I may have been… hasty in my next actions.

“The beast had collapsed—surely dead—but I was afraid enough that I needed to be sure. So I—and I beg your pardon, councilmembers, for the vulgarity and goriness of this—hacked at its neck until the head departed the body, leaving but a long, ragged stump where once the head had sat.

“Now, unlike the Honorable Sir Halifax, I cannot verify where this monstrosity came from initially, nor can I claim that its intent was indeed to do damage to our people and property. But what I feel I must do is to implore you to take this threat seriously. I was not given this scratch be a child’s fairytale, after all!” she said, rolling up her sleeve and unwinding the bandage upon her arm, “and nor was my spear shattered, nor my armor damaged by one!

“The threat is dire, my friends. Currently, you only have two people who have survived a clash with a greater Other-Kin. Many are our friends and neighbors who have fallen prey to even the least of these abominations on a dark night! With an army—or as Sir Halifax suggested—a simple militia, we could secure our borders, and prevent anyone else from being caught unaware, alone and afraid in the night!

“I feel that it is but a small thing to ask. After all, were you not each elected to see to the best interests of you constituents? To see that they are safe? Unafraid? I urge you all to vote to confirm this movement. I, for one, would rather fight with a friend at my side.”

“…Have you completed your testament, Lady Edlaise?” Tuvaulle asked tentatively. She was known for dramatic pauses. I did that once!

“I have, Mr. Moderator. Thank you. Thank you, councilmembers,” she said, bowing slightly to both sides of the council as she took her seat.

“That was great, Edlaise!” Vevien whispered to her, “You should be the one in politics!”

“Princess Vevien? Do you wish to offer your own remarks?”

“All I wish to say, Mr. Moderator, is that any who do not see the truth in the stories of Sir Halifax and Lady Edlaise are blind fools, and that, despite whatever action they might take, these two exemplary individuals will continue to strive to keep them safe from any and all threats to their wellbeing.”

“Very well then, Princess Vevien,” he said, turning back to the court, “Now that these testaments and arguments of both registered sides have been heard, I must ask each of you to dismiss any attendants or witnesses to wait in the hall outside for the duration of the vote.”

:::

The hallway was perfectly silent as Edlaise waited with Halifax and the rest of the various scribes and advisors. No one so much as coughed, or wiped there nose. There was no sound emanating from the council chambers—the time of verbal debate was over. Now it was time for each member to come to their own decision. According to law, speaking during this time could potentially see the speaker’s vote nullified. Edlaise hoped that Bedour attempted to say something.

But he wouldn’t. As much as she disliked the man, and enjoyed insulting his intelligence, he was no idiot. He was the most important person in the coalition against the raising of an army, and he knew it.

Edlaise stared straight ahead as the rainbows filtering through the prism windows changed, stretching, thinning, rising up the wall as the sun began to sink toward the mountains. She stifled a yawn. When were they going to finish up? Surely it didn’t take hours to come to a decision!

A brief murmur from within the council chambers quieted her anxiety, or least, part of it. Would now the verdict be released? Would it be favorable? Had their statements swayed the unswayable?

“Ladies, gentlemen? If you would like to resume your seats?” Tuvaulle said, popping open one the the large double-doors. “I do believe that we have come to our conclusion. If you would bear witness…” he trailed off as the somber—yet contradictorily excited—crowd of courtiers filed into the chamber.

“Now then,” he resumed, “As you all know, today we met with the goal of deciding whether or not to raise a standing army, and if that was done, whether or not the king would have supreme control over the forces. Well, we have done so.

“Miss Cavette? If you would hand me the first ballot box? Thank you, dear. Now. I will proceed to open this box, and, as moderator, shall read out each declaration. I will be clear and concise in my wording so that there may be now confusion. I ask that each of you keep your own tallies regarding the number in favor of each clause, those being as follows: those against the raising of an armed force, and those for the raising of an armed force. I shall begin presently.

“In disfavor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military…” Edlaise crept to the edge of her seat, keeping tally. So far, they were tied, “In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In disfavor of a military…. In favor of a military… and…. In favor of a military…” Edlaise almost leaped from her chair. The first part’s done with! Now to just get it away from the bureaucrats!

“By my own count, ladies and gentlemen, that comes to eleven in favor of raising an army, and ten against. Are there any objections?” he asked. There almost never were, especially when Tuvaulle was moderating—the man very rarely made a mistake. “No? Very good then. The second ballot box, if you please? Thank you, Miss Cavette.

“Now for the matter of who is to be in control of this newly levied military of ours, and who is responsible for determining its actions. I will ask that the members of the council place their slips into the ballot box as it comes about—you have all had much more than the requisite amount of time to decide, after all—and we will take the count presently.”

“You can’t do that, Tuvaulle!” Bedour shouted, standing abruptly with another of his flushed faces, “This goes against all protocol! I make a motion that Tuvaulle be replaced by an impartial moderator!”

“Motion noted, and rejected, Mr. Bedour,” Tuvaulle said coolly, turning toward him. “I did remind every member of this court of the time restraints upon the vote for each clause—which we exceeded by no less than two hours and twelve minutes, which in turn is forty-two minutes longer than was agreed upon. Therefore, we have already used the voting time for the second portion of the vote.”

“Well why didn’t you give warning!”

“Mr. Bedour. This is not a schoolhouse. You should not be in need of warnings to be able to tell the time. But if it would please you, perhaps the next vote could be upon whether or not to bring alarm clocks to our meetings in the future,” Tuvaulle said scathingly, “Now, hurry along with the ballot box.”

“I move that this vote be re-enacted!”

“Silence, Mr. Bedour! Once more and you shall not have a vote at all! Or need I remind you of the rules of voting, as well as the amount of time allotted for said voting?”

Bedour scowled, but sat down again, his round face a lovely shade of burgundy.

“Thank you, Mr. Bedour. It seems the box has reached you. Has every councilmember had his or her say? Yes? Very good.

“I shall count off in the same manner as before. The outcomes are clear, once again—pro-royal control or anti-royal control. If everyone would keep tally, so as not to waste time… thank you. Let us begin.

“Pro! Pro! Anti! Pro! Anti! Anti! Anti! Pro! Anti! Pro! Pro! Pro! Pro! Anti! Anti! Anti! Anti! Anti! Pro! Pro! And… Pro! I stand at eleven pro-royal command and ten against. Do I hear any objections to this count?”

“I—” Bedour started, raising his hand, but then stopped. Dissenting simply to attempt a forced recount could see the dissenter barred from voting on the next bill. And even if it was as simple as whether time keepers should be implemented, Bedour wasn’t the type to risk it. “No objection, Mr. Moderator,” he seethed.

“Very good then. Princess Vevien?” he said, turning to their coalition, “Would you like the honor of informing your father of his newest responsibility?”

“I would be honored, Mr. Tuvaulle,” she replied. Now that the voting was over, there was no need to be overly formal. “and I thank you for this honor.”

“Very well, I trust you to it. If you would also extend an invitation for him to come to our next engagement, the council will discuss the manner in which we shall levee the troops, and the limits to the power that the king shall have.”

“Of course I shall do so, Mr. Tuvaulle. And thank you, again,” Vevien said, rising to leave. Edlaise heard the strain in her voice, the readiness to be off and be done with this political wish-wash.

“Well?” Edlaise demanded as they left the chambers, “When do I get appointed Grand-General?”

“You don’t. That’s Father’s job. You can be a… private!”

“What? But that’s the literal lowest rank, right?” she gasped, feigning injury, “How could you do such a thing?”

“Come now, Lady Edlaise,” Sir Halifax said from his post behind them—what he called the ‘honor guard.’ From any of the lechers from the Council, she might have felt uncomfortable. Halifax was too honorable for such vulgarity. “Surely, since you are easily one of the best—if not the best—combatant Dembirom has to offer, you will see yourself attain at least sergeant! Of course, you will also likely spend your time training recruits…”

“What? No, I won’t! And I’ll stuff anyone who tries to make me!”

“Ha!” Vevien barked in a most un-princess-like fashion, “I’d like to see a pig like Bedour try to keep you out of the army!”

“I might just stuff that one, anyhow.”

“I might pay to see that. But come, Father is waiting.”

[mintymiknow]

Scintilla ch. 9 | Bang Chan

summary & more info | masterlist

Characters: Stray Kids, Reader

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Summary: When you indirectly witness your adviser’s murder by the Council, Minho and the rest confront you about their discoveries and plans. Though a reunion with Chan may seem like a fairytale, your heart isn’t exactly sure. 

Genre: Royal fantasy [Red Queen AU]

Word count: Approx. 8.3k

Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood, suggestive (nothing smutty happens please don’t worry; I’m putting this as a warning in case you don’t like reading slightly more detailed kiss scenes)

A/N: I apologize for the long wait with ch. 9 my lovelies. It’s been very...difficult the past week and I didn’t feel very motivated to do anything. But now I feel better (thanks for your messages btw), so here’s what you’ve all been waiting for! Send an ask my way if you have questions or thoughts ily!

You were very irritated the night you returned from your meeting with King Moon; the king was very pushy, arrogant, and conceited; you could literally roll your eyes back and forth a million times with all his airy compliments and boastful statements. In the end, you declined – politely – his offer for your hand in marriage. The Council was not happy, so to speak, but what could they do?

You ended up returning to the castle very much exhausted and was looking forward to getting together with your friends. So when Minho brushed you off under the guise that he “had work to do”, and Seungmin was “busy with family errands”, you felt like pouting just a little. When Changbin said he wanted to go to bed early because “he had a rough day and was not in the mood to explain”, and Hyunjin “wasn’t feeling well”, you knew: something was up. Were these boys avoiding you for a reason? Was there something going on? Did something happen while you were gone? You started rattling your brain to come to a conclusion, but you thought better; perhaps you’d just spend the night alone, reflecting and taking time to rest.

Now that you finally calmed down from yesterday’s events, you found yourself winding around the spiral staircase that led to the castle’s archive room. Most people would find it boring there; after all, all that was there were old books from ancestors, lineage and history documents, passed-down memorabilia and treasures, and outdated papers from rulers before. Even the room smelled like something old and moldy, but at some point, you got used to it. You and Changbin hid there often, especially when trying to escape your “royal classes”. Right now, you were just doing “homework” – or so your adviser would call it.

You delicately pulled an old, worn out book away from the shelf. You flipped through the pages with absolutely no interest or enthusiasm. You could have fallen asleep again, after reading names you’ve only heard about in legends and stories, but when your eyes fell upon a picture of Minho’s mother, you suddenly got zapped awake. You flipped to the next page which revealed details about the woman you never got to meet.

Born: August, Year xxxx

Maiden name: Shin ____

Blood type: Silver, Nymph

House: Shin (former), Lee (due to marriage with Lee ___)

Family: Lee ____ (spouse), Lee Minho (son)

Died: April, Year xxxx

Cause of death: Execution for treason

You felt your heart sink at the thought. That was the first time you met Minho. You were both merely children, and while you were obliviously skipping about in the castle as your father and the other Council members had a meeting, you stumbled upon a crying boy around your age. The crying boy refused to speak to you, but you were persistent.

That persistence led to the little boy – Lee Minho – eventually opening up to you. “My mother was tried and executed this morning.” He had told you, and though just a child, you already knew how heartbreaking that was. Back then, you gripped his hands tight and promised that you’d never leave his side and would be his friend forever, and once you became queen, you’d make sure that he would never experience such heartache again.

Funny how Minho became ridiculously loyal to the Council despite it being them who took his mother away…or so you thought.

You flipped the page again, but your heart wasn’t ready to be faced with a photo of your very own father. Your fingers shook as they hovered above the page, and your throat suddenly felt drier than the desert. The musty scent in the room strangled you, threatening to make you gag with the way you couldn’t breathe. With hesitant fingers, you flipped the page again.

Only…the page was missing. Unlike Minho’s mother, your father didn’t have the whole “details” page. Either there was none written, or it was removed. You felt your heart accelerate with nervousness; why was there a missing page? Were they hiding something? You were unable to dwell on your thoughts as you heard a couple of hushed voices hissing and arguing with each other. Why would anyone be down here in the morning?

You clutched the book close to your chest and proceeded towards the source of the voices with utmost caution. Your feet led you to another set of stairs leading to some sort of basement-like chamber. Shadows and lights were flickering, and you could tell that it was a dark room lit up with a simple candle. You kept your distance, listening as closely as possible to whatever was being said.

“You fool! You’re not supposed to be patronizing her!”

Lord Kim?

“But My Lord! It is my duty to be with the princess throughout her whole journey for as long as I live!”

Sir Jo? Your adviser?

“Have you forgotten why the Council has assigned you as her adviser? So you could keep an eye on her while we carry out our plans!”

Lord Yoo?

“My goodness, if this was going to happen, might as well have had Minho or Seungmin as her adviser.”

“With all due respect, my lords, ladies, but this…this scheme of yours is against my moral beliefs!”

“Who do you think you work for, Jo?”

“Still! This is absurd! A heresy! I will not be a part of this plot.”

You hear his retreating footsteps approaching the stairs, his shadow against the wall enough for you to know he was walking out as quickly as possible. You don’t, however, get to meet him at the staircase because the next thing that happens has you terrified. Your eyes widen in terror as a bloodcurdling scream escapes your adviser’s lips. The familiar sound of steel morphing and piercing flesh – probably the doing of Minho’s father – grates your ears, and your adviser’s metallic blood painting the wall perpendicular to the stairs has you feeling nauseous.

Without making any noise, you run from the archive room as quick as possible. You feel as if your heart was lodged up in your throat as all your organs were in some sort of maze with how sick you felt. You’re running so fast, you aren’t able to avoid the figure approaching you. You collide with the individual, but before you can fall back, he steadies you by the arm and raises an eyebrow skeptically, “Y/n? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You glue your eyes to Minho’s, and within seconds, you’re clinging to him for dear life. Minho sighs, calmly rubbing your back with soothing circles. You open your eyes and look over Minho’s shoulder to see Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin walking up from behind the Magnetron. “Oh, sis – ” Changbin starts, panic immediately clouding his eyes as he sees your distressed state, “What’s wrong?”

You look to Minho, then back to your brother, but when you see Seungmin’s anxious expression, you know he’s read your mind. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “The Council murdered Sir Jo. In this basement-like place in the archive room.”

Changbin curses under his breath, and Minho’s arms around you tighten as he looks back to the Silver trio. Hyunjin’s worried eyes dart around the hall before whispering, “Not here, guys.”

Minho is next to mutter a few inappropriate choice words before he releases his hold on you and angrily leads the group away from the halls. Seungmin and Hyunjin walk ahead, and Changbin hangs back to gently hold your hand as you slowly follow the rest. Your brother is aware of how your hand was quivering in his, so he grips it reassuringly. It’s all it takes for you to get his message: I’ve got you.

In your room, Changbin sits beside you on the bed with Hyunjin on the other side. Seungmin sits on the stool by your vanity, and Minho leans against the locked door. “Tell us everything.” Minho lowly commands.

You take a deep breath before recounting what you had witnessed from earlier. From the records of Minho’s mother – which, of course, caused him to get agitated, – your father’s missing records, the argument with Sir Jo and the Council, and his eventual “murder”. Hyunjin releases a sigh of disbelief as he shakes his head, “The Council is really something. To think they’ve been second-in-command to the throne for all these years when they’re a bunch of liars and murderers.”

“Wait.” you question, “Is there something I’m missing out on? What happened when I left for my meeting with King Moon? You all avoided me when I returned.”

The trio look at Minho, and the latter simply nods his head. Changbin is the one who explains to you, “Hyunjin and I wanted answers regarding the attack on the castle and Chan’s apparent ‘mission’. Seungmin offered to help us too, so we went to Bambam. Remember him?”

“Yeah, I do.” you nod.

“Ok, so we heard from Seungmin that he caught a glimpse of Jeongin’s mind when you guys went to District 9 to confront Chan. He said Jeongin snuck around Miroh during the time of the attack and discovered something important, but Seungmin couldn’t catch it ‘cause some fight broke out. We asked Bambam if he had any idea on what Jeongin could have heard.” the prince narrates.

Seungmin continues, “Bambam had a client who was apparently a higher authority from SKZ, and he was talking about some ‘ridiculous act’ about certain elites and rebels wanting to kill the Seo siblings. Bambam wanted to ask more questions, but this SKZ member waved him off and said that he was just hearing things.”

“And then,” Hyunjin adds, “Minho pulled as away last night – which is why we ‘avoided’ you – to tell us something important regarding our lives.”

Minho crosses his arms and sighs, “I’ll get straight to the point, y/n. The Council wants you dead, and they’ve enlisted the help of SKZ’s leader, Ho. Not just you, but Changbin, and possibly Hyunjin, Seungmin, and me.”

Contrary to what they were expecting, you weren’t panicking. Yes, you seemed calm outside, but inside, your thoughts were all over the place, wreaking havoc in your mind. Your gaze falls to the floor as you bitterly laugh, “I mean, with what I witnessed in the archive room, I wouldn’t say I’m surprised now. But how did you find out, Minho? Bin and the others went to Bam. You?”

Minho purses his lips before speaking as if his next admission was the greatest form of torture, “Bang requested to meet me. I met with him and the other Newbloods, and they explained everything they found out through the same SKZ member who spoke to Bambam. Apparently, he’s against Ho’s plan.”

“Is that why you didn’t go with me to see King Moon?” you laugh in disbelief, “You met with the Newbloods? Minho, I am surprised.”

You notice the faint shade of pink dusting Minho’s cheeks as he turns his eyes away from your group. “I did what I had to do, y/n. Enough.” he mumbles. “Bang and his group still don’t know why Ho is working with the Council, and neither do we. But one thing was sure in Ho’s plans; he’s going to kill you in two days. Bang was given a time frame do it himself but if he doesn’t accomplish it within a week, which ends in two days, Ho is doing it himself.”

“Sources say that Ho intends to suffocate you with his Silent abilities while you’re asleep. His access to you will be aided by the Council, unnoticed.” Changbin states.

“And? What now?” you quietly ask your friends, “Are we all sleeping in my room from now on so we can take watch?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, offering you a gentle smile as if to coax you into not screaming in shock or surprise. “We’re sending you off to Chan’s base in District 9.”

Your heart freezes with those words, but not the giddy kind. Was it horror? Disdain? Doubt? You snap your head to Minho who simply shrugs. “Minho, what?” you hiss, “First of all, what makes you all think I’m safe there, where Ho can easily get access to me? Second, don’t you hate them? Third – ”

You hesitate, clenching your still-shaking hands into tight fists, “ – I don’t think I can take that.”

“Relax, drama queen.” Minho mutters, “We’re sending Seungmin with you.”

“I still don’t get why I’m being sent away from the castle. Didn’t you say it’s dangerous out there?”

“At this point, everywhere is dangerous for us, y/n, especially you.” Minho’s expression softens, “Bang promised me that you’re safe with them. They have two ‘houses’ in District 9, and Ho isn’t aware of the other one. The Council can’t watch you there, and…” the Magnetron sighs, “…he can actually sleep with you in one room.”

“Sleep with her?” Changbin nearly shrieks, “You didn’t say anything about him sleeping with my sister!”

You feel your cheeks heat up, but Minho is quick to fan out the flames, “No, you idiot! I mean literally sleep! As in ‘I lie down next to you and close my eyes so can fall asleep and snore’ kind of sleep! And not just Bang, but the others. Have the young one stay next to her or something, I don’t know.”

Seungmin nods, “I mean, we wouldn’t be going away if we were allowed to do that here, y/n. But even if we explain that we’re spending time with you or keeping you safe, forget about Ho killing us. The people and elites would have us hanged for such ‘indecent acts’ between unmarried individuals.”

“Even though we’re technically just sleeping or staying in your room as you sleep.” Hyunjin mumbles, “Royal rules and stuff.”

“Ok, I understand your motives and intentions, but wouldn’t the Council find it weird that I’m not in the castle when I’m not even allowed to leave?” you raise an eyebrow.

“That’s why in today’s meeting, I will propose for you to go on a diplomatic trip to scout for new ties and connection to build. Seungmin will accompany you.” Minho says, “It’s pretty much perfect; you’re in need of preparing yourself to do such things so that when you’re officially queen, you’ve gathered experience on how to do it.”

“I can’t be on a trip forever. Diplomatic trips like that usually last 2-3 weeks only.”

“Within that time, Hyunjin, Minho, and I would have hoped to find some sort of resolution or answer to this problem, so that when you return, we can confront and fix things.” Changbin says, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “We’ll get to the bottom of all this.”

“I don’t know if I like this plan or not,” you start, giving your friends a small smile, “but I guess you’re the only people I can trust now.”

“So let me get this straight, Minho.” Lord Kim mumbles, “You are proposing for the princess to go on a diplomatic trip by herself?”

Minho sighs with impatience, “No, she will be accompanied by Seungmin.”

“Why not you?” Lady Jung purrs. “Aren’t you two…close?”

Minho is unfazed with the lady’s malicious remark and looks her dead in the eye, mirroring the icy stare she held. “Which is exactly why I should not be the one going with her. Seungmin is the perfect escort since he is very well-versed with the histories, cultures, and practices within various nations.”

“Plus, he’s a Whisper.” you add, “His ability gives us an edge in avoiding danger or threats.”

Lord Lee turns his judging eyes to you, almost as if he were scrutinizing your ability to go on a trip with a young man who barely left the castle. He then casts his eyes on his son who refuses to look him in the eye. “My son, what will the princess possibly gain from this proposal?”

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something under his breath. You purse your lips before gathering enough courage to lock eyes with his father. He killed your adviser. Just the thought of it has you feeling dizzy again, but you steel yourself and sit straighter. “Experience, Lord Lee. You are all postponing my coronation because you think I’m incapable of ruling as I’m not ready and equipped with the experience to do so. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity for me to gain that experience? Diplomatic trips will happen a lot when I’m crowned queen, after all.”

The Council members are murmuring and whispering things to each other, and you feel your chest tightening with nervousness. You thought you could have Seungmin control their minds to approve of this proposal, but his Whisper abilities were not strong enough to hold the minds of such powerful men and women yet.

“What kind of ties or connections do you expect to make with this trip, Your Highness?” Lord Yoo questions.

“I’ll never know for certain.” you reply boldly, “I intend to visit less known towns and cities to see what I can do about them.”

“Those small cities or towns may be useful for future purposes, my Lord.” Minho says with a casual shrug, “Be it service, resources, or alliances, a lot of small communities can benefit from being connected with Miroh and vice versa. Seungmin has analyzed and assessed the situation, for your information.”

Lady Jung continues to giggle and muses over the proposal. Her slender fingers caress the table in front of her, little icicles following her movements and reflecting her icy blue eyes. “I think these two have a point, my Lords. Maybe y/n dearie will pick up a skill or two. Perhaps…learn to have a mind of her own and become more independent?”

You’re seething inside, and Minho can feel the heat radiating from inside of you. You could literally melt that vixen if you wished to; her witch-like smile and flirtatious lilt never failed to irritate you to the bones. It was excruciating being in one room with her.

Minho puts a hand on your knee to calm you down as he narrows his eyes at the elders, “What will it be, Council? Or would you rather have y/n stuck in her office ‘til she dies?”

You snap your head to Minho. What was he thinking? Did he want them to know we were onto them? All the Council members direct their angry eyes at the young man beside you. He, however, simply smirks and seems to have not regretted a single word. Well, Minho was always confident. “Dies of boredom, elders. Boredom. You know how y/n gets bored easily. If she stays in her office any much longer, I fear she’ll start sneaking off to Elysium again.”

“Fine.” Lord Kim waves his hand dismissively, “But you only have 3 weeks maximum. Return to the castle afterwards.”

“And we expect a report at the end of the trip.” Lord Yoo widens his eyes at you as if warning you to avoid any fishy business.

Ironic. You smile and nod at their words before getting up and bowing as politely as possible, “As you wish, Council.”

Minho stands next, bowing in a similar manner. “Thank you.”

He takes your hand in his before walking out of the meeting room. Lord Lee’s steely eyes glare at your retreating figures. A metal bead from the chandelier hanging in the middle of the room morphs into a small knife. Lord Lee slowly gestures for it to fly directly towards your back, but Lord Kim halts the Magnetron’s movements. The two Council members glare at each other, with Lord Kim hissing silently, “Not yet, Lee. Your son is there. Wait for her to return home after the trip.”

“Minho would understand.” Lord Lee argues.

Lady Jung snickers, “Would he, Lee?”

Lord Lee continues to watch your retreating figures, and as if on cue, Minho turns his head to look back at the meeting room. His eyes are unreadable to the other Councilors, but Lord Lee sees it immediately – the look of betrayal and hurt has painted his son’s eyes once again, much like when they took his mother. His son’s eyes were merely asking one question: Why?

Minho tears his gaze away and gently places his hand on the small of your back as if he knew what his father attempted to do. When you both turn the corner that led to the royal quarters, Lord Yoo sighs, “Just wait, Lee. The plan will push through. Just wait.”

“Chan! Chan! Chan!”

“What is it, Felix?” Chan sighs from the living room of their base, scratching his ear from the oversensitivity to Felix’s shouting.

“It’s Minho’s earring.” the freckled man whispers, holding his hand out to show everyone the shiny, intricately-designed earring.

“That means we can get y/n already!” Jisung whisper-shouts, grabbing the person closest to him – Jeongin – and squeezes him in a tight hug.

Woojin chuckles at his excitement, “How’d he send it over?”

Felix smiles, “This guy named Bambam brought it to Elysium and had it delivered here ASAP.”

“Hmm.” Chan hums, unhooking his own earring, “Can you deliver this, Innie? Along with this note?”

Jeongin grins, taking the earring and note from the older male. “Sure thing.”

The red-haired boy looks to Felix who gives him a small nod. With that, the two teleport away from the base. Jisung excitedly jumps, pumping his fist in the air as he retreats back to his room, muttering something like “Tomorrow’s the day!”

“Indoor voice, Jisung!” Woojin shouts, and Jisung exclaims a quick “ok” from upstairs.

The Gravitron’s eyes are on his best friend who is mindlessly staring into blank space. “Are you ok, Chan?”

Chan laughs, shaking his head, “More or less.”

“The plan will work, Chan.” Woojin smiles gently, randomly causing some of the objects in the room to gravitate upwards out of habit, “Don’t be so worried.”

“I know, I know. I’m not worried about the plan. I’m worried – ” Chan stops himself midway, sighing and leaning back on the couch.

Woojin lifts an eyebrow, a playful sparkle in his deep eyes, “Worried about y/n?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not exactly that way.” Chan mumbles.

“Worried about sleeping next to her?” Woojin laughs. “Because you don’t have to if you don’t – ”

“What?” Chan throws a small pillow at his best friend, “That’s not a big deal, Wooj.”

“Then what is?” Woojin genuinely asks, “You? You’re worried about yourself getting attached again?”

Chan doesn’t reply but pouts his lips slightly. Despite being the same age, Woojin can’t help but laugh at how his best friend looks like a moping child. He observes how Chan, usually level-headed and calm, was now fiddling with his fingers and clearly in a distressed state thanks to his overthinking. Woojin smiles to himself, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips, “Y/n is really something, huh.”

“What?”

“In all our years of friendship, I have never seen you this much in love with someone.”

“I’ve never fallen in love with anyone, Wooj.”

“Exactly.”

Chan sighs and offers his best friend a melancholic smile. True, he had never actually loved anyone the way he loved you. He surely loved his friends, but that was different. In fact, he never intended to fall for you – not a single bit. But perhaps he blindly jumped into a rabbit hole and fell quicker than he expected, unable to grab anything to try and pull himself out of this abyss known as “feelings”. Now, he’s at the bottom of the pit, unsure whether he should be feeling this way or not. The pit is dark, and Chan doesn’t know how to navigate it, much as how he isn’t sure on how to deal with his attraction to you.

“I’m in way too deep, Wooj.” Chan sadly chuckles, his smile anything but happy, “I’m in too deep, and I don’t know how to get out of this hole.”

Woojin shrugs, “A shot in the dark may be worth it, you know?”

“How is being in love with her worth it?” Chan questions, the feeling of desperation and being clueless something foreign to the rebel. “I feel like Alice falling into Wonderland, except nothing and no one is there to catch me.”

“I don’t know, but I think this whole thing is a good time for you two to figure things out between yourselves.” Woojin winks, “And I’m pretty sure no one caught Alice as well. Yet she made it, right? She found Wonderland and had the best time of her life.”

“I hate you.” Chan finally laughs despite still feeling mellow, “I thought I sounded dramatic with that last line.”

“I will always be the one to stop your dramatic ass. Jisung’s dramatic enough, please. We don’t need two drama kings in this house.” Woojin grins.

“Whatever, Wooj.” Chan chuckles, “Come on, we have work to do.”

Changbin and Hyunjin were sitting on a bench in the castle’s gardens, listening to the water of the fountain nearby. The two seemed dazed as they stared up at the sky when Hyunjin suddenly spoke up, “Hey, Changbin.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s unbelievable…what’s happening to you and y/n. I mean, to all of us Silver children, but like…” Hyunjin trails off, sighing as he shuts his eyes, “it’s worse for you guys since you’re the only remaining members of the royal family.”

Changbin turns to his friend and shrugs, “The royal life was never meant to be simple and perfect, Jin.”

“How are we even supposed to stop the Council? It’s not like we’re as strong as they are. Hell, I’ve trained with Minho but I still don’t think I’m a match for them if we have to fight.” Hyunjin muses. “Especially if it’s true that SKZ’s leaders are part of this scheme.”

Changbin shushes him, “Shhh, don’t talk about it so openly.” the prince whispers, “We need to get proof that the Council is plotting against us. The common Silvers and other High Houses might help us if we have the proof. Right now, ever since word got out that y/n snuck around a lot, they’re disappointed in her. We need to get the citizens on our side if we want to get rid of the Council.”

“What about getting help from Chan and the rest? I’m pretty sure they’re strong.” the Silk suggests, but Changbin doesn’t get to answer because two familiar figures appear in front of them.

Changbin has to cover Hyunjin’s mouth from screaming, causing Felix to snicker. Jeongin happily waves at the two before whispering in an urgent manner, “We need to get to y/n’s room, now.”

The two Silvers nod and carefully lead the Newbloods to your chamber. When the door is slowly opened, you, Minho, and Seungmin look up to see the four males. “Jeongin? Felix?” you tilt your head.

“Hey.” Felix grins, waving at the three of you. “We’re here to get you out, y/n.”

“I thought it was you and Bang?” Minho raises his eyebrow expectantly.

Jeongin shakes his head, “Change of plans. I’ll be disguised as one of the…what do you call it? The guy who rides the horse connected to the carriage? Yeah, whatever. That’s me. At least that way, the Council will see that y/n really left the castle for that proposed trip.”

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Seungmin questions. “And where in heaven’s name are you going to hide that horse and carriage?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jeongin defends himself, mildly looking offended. “In the base, duh. Our second home is far off from District 9 and Ho’s main base.”

“Anyway, I’ll be watching close by.” Felix smiles, “Chan couldn’t come ‘cause he has to stay behind by the base.”

“You guys should hurry before you all are caught.” Hyunjin rushes the group, frantic eyes darting around the room.

“Minho? Umm…Mister Lee? Sir Lee? Lord Lee? How do I even address – ” Felix directs his whines at you and Changbin.

“Minho.”

“Ok, Minho.” Felix offers him a smile, “I’m going to teleport you and Jeongin to the stables so you can help us prepare y/n’s carriage. Is that ok?”

Minho simply nods, and with that gesture, Felix takes hold of his and Jeongin’s arm, teleporting away. Changbin gestures towards the door, “Let’s meet them there.”

After a few minutes, you meet the rest of the group at the stables where your horse and carriage are readied. Jeongin – who was currently in the form of a coachman – gave you a playful salute. “Ready when you are, Princess!”

“Where’s Felix?” you laugh.

“He teleported ahead to clear the area.” Jeongin smiles.

“Alright.”

Seungmin says his goodbyes to Hyunjin and mutters to the older male, “No recklessness, got it?”

“Got it, Sir Kim.” Hyunjin laughs.

The Whisper then gives an understanding nod towards Minho, and despite the absence of words, the two know exactly what it is they want to say to each other. Seungmin sighs, turning to Changbin, “You’ll be ok, right?”

“Of course.” Changbin laughs, throwing an arm around Seungmin, “You be careful too, Min. It’s your first time being out of the castle for so long.”

The younger male grins, “I’m smart enough to survive.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Seungmin enters the carriage ahead. You turn to Hyunjin, widely smiling as you give him a big hug. “You’ve gotta be brave, Jinnie.”

“I can do that, as long as you promise to stay safe.” Hyunjin squeezes you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “Can’t have my best friend dying on me.”

You laugh at his statement before moving on to Minho. Your smile is much smaller now, but it holds all the tenderness and concern you have for the male. “Don’t do anything stupid – ”

“ – while I’m gone.” Minho smirks at you, giving you one quick wink. “Hurry up, weirdo.”

You chuckle and turn to your brother. Tears start to well in your eyes, and you have to blink a million times to fight back. Changbin lowly chuckles, getting ahead in pulling you into a warm embrace. “Please promise me you’ll take care, Bin. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.” you whisper, afraid of how your voice has started to crack.

“I will, sis. We’ll get to the bottom of this, and everything will be ok.” Changbin rubs your back, “Hey, Jeongin. Make sure she’s safe, ok?”

Jeongin salutes once again, giving everyone an assuring smile, “I swear on my life – on all our Newblood lives – that we’ll take care of her.”

“You better!” Hyunjin laughs, causing Jeongin to giggle.

With that, you let go of Changbin. It felt like peeling glued paper away from each other, but despite the clenching of your heart, you had to take a step forward and into your carriage. Minho motions for Jeongin to go, and without another word, the young male gets the horse trotting away. Hyunjin and Changbin send you off with a bittersweet smile, oblivious to the fact that a glimmering tear had escaped the Magnetron’s eyes.

He turns to the side to wipe away any evidence of this so-called “weakness” and clears his throat. “The Council has a gala to attend tomorrow, at King Moon’s kingdom. Shall we start investigations tomorrow?”

“With pleasure.” the two younger Silvers agree.

After a careful trip from Miroh to District 9, Jeongin takes the carriage to a secluded area. From there, Felix teleports the horse and carriage to the other base. Jeongin gives you his black jacket, putting the hood up over your head. He gives his scarf to Seungmin who wraps it around himself. Jeongin offers you his hand, “May I?”

“Of course.” you smile at the younger male.

Jeongin softly takes his hand in yours and whispers, “Seungmin, please hold y/n’s other hand. You two lay low and follow me closely, ok?”

You both nod, and Jeongin expertly navigates through several snake-like alleyways and narrow streets. He goes through tunnels, shortcuts, and a few bridges within the span of a few minutes. You were surely amazed at how well Jeongin was coursing through the place with just experience and perhaps a keen memory. When you finally arrived at the middle of a quiet-looking valley, a simple looking house made of wood came into sight. Jeongin lets go of your hand and smiles, “This is your home for now, y/n, Seungmin.”

He cheerfully opens the door and ushers you inside. As soon as the door shuts and the lock clicks in place, a boisterous laugh echoes from the foyer-like room. The next thing you see is a flash of green, and Jisung’s arms are tightly wrapped around your figure. “Y/n, it’s so good to see you.”

You gently hug the male back, chuckling at his fake sobs, “It’s good to see you, Sungie.”

Felix is passed out on the couch, exhausted from teleporting such a large object for a fairly great distance, “Jisung, give her room to adjust and breathe.”

Jisung releases his hold on you and grins, cheeks puffing out for you to poke. He turns his attention to Seungmin who is warily standing behind you. “Hey, Whisper. Seungmin, right?” Jisung chuckles.

“Yeah, Jisung.” Seungmin nods, taking the Electricon’s hand when he stretches it out for a handshake.

Woojin descends from the stairs and smiles, “Look who’s here.”

“Hey Woojin.” you chuckle.

“Jisung, Jeongin, can you guys make dinner this time?” Woojin nods towards the kitchen.

Despite Felix’s lazy “you sure about that?”, Jeongin and Jisung have raced to the kitchen in an instant. “Kim Seungmin, if I remember correctly?” Woojin grins at the Whisper.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Seungmin nods.

Woojin gestures for the both of you to follow him, and you do so. He leads you up the stairs and into a certain room amongst the other rooms. “This is technically Chan’s room, but since he has the biggest room, you’re staying with him.”

“Pardon me?” your cheeks redden.

“You’re safe with him,” Woojin laughs at how cute your cheeks have become, “but if you don’t feel comfortable, you can stay with me or Felix, Jeongin, and Jisung. They share a room.”

“No.” you gulp, “I mean, no, because I’ll be ok, and it’s not a big deal and technically it’s safest with Chan, you say, so ok, I’m fine don’t worry.”

With a smirk, Woojin winks at you before turning to Seungmin. He points to the door next to Chan’s and smiles, “This is my room. Would you like to bunk with me, or with the younger guys?”

“I feel like it’s more quiet and peaceful in your room, so I’m fine there.” Seungmin whispers.

“Good choice.”

Just then, the door to Chan’s room opens, revealing Chan standing there, “Oh, y/n. Seungmin?”

“Chan.”

“Yeah, I’m Seungmin.”

“I shall leave you two to figure things out, and I will check on the two to make sure they don’t burn this place down.” Woojin pats Chan’s back, giddily going back downstairs. “Seungmin, do you cook?”

“Ah, I know a few tricks.” Seungmin calls out, following Woojin downstairs in hopes to avoid being caught up in your tension-filled situation with Chan.

You watch the two descend the stairs, mentally cursing them for abandoning you with the man who makes your heart and mind go crazy. You bite your lip and stand there in silence, and Chan simply tilts his head, “Do you want to…go in or something?”

All you do is nod, and Chan opens the door wider for you to enter. You repress a squeal – or squeak – from escaping your lips as you see how you’d have to share a bad with the male. Your eyes dart around the room, sweat starting to bead along your forehead. This is just due to my innate Burner abilities, don’t sweat it, y/n. Chan taps your shoulder gently, causing to you flinch with eyes widening, “I’m sorry, yes?”

Chan chuckles, raising his eyebrow, “Are you ok?”

“Perfectly.” you clear your throat, playing with the skirt of your dress.

“Why are you wearing a gown here?”

“The Council thinks I’m off on a diplomatic trip.”

“I know, just messing with you.”

“Oh.” you want to die from how silent it had become, “Where are our things?”

“Seungmin’s are in Woojin’s room, yours is there.” Chan gestures to the corner of the room where your little baggage was sitting.

“Y/n – ”

“I’m going to help Woojin and the others cook.” you abruptly say, turning on your heel for the door.

Chan is quick to grab your wrist and tries to pull you towards him, but he was a bit too afraid to pull stronger like you’d break or snap if he put too much force. Thus his attempt to do so was weak and rather limp. “Y/n.”

When his grip on your wrist loosens, you tug your arm away and turn your head just a millimeter, “I’m sorry.”

You ignore the aching pounding of your heart and decide to leave the room without saying another word to the male. So much for a fairytale-like reunion. You blamed your indecisive, scared, and guilty heart for refusing to face Chan, but in reality, you just couldn’t bring yourself to face him. Not when you refused to believe his pleading words when he tried to explain his side from before. Not when you refused to listen to his shattered heart calling out for you – of all people – to believe him. Not when you cut him off when he needed you the most.

The first dinner you had with the Newbloods was…an experience. Jisung was really loud, and somehow, he got Seungmin to talk a lot. Felix was still feeling drowsy from the energy he exhausted from a while ago, but he managed to laugh and goof around with Jisung from time to time. Woojin and Jeongin tried their best to make Seungmin feel welcome, asking him questions about his life and abilities. You and Chan would make eye contact with each other as Woojin sat you across the Sounder. Every time you locked eyes with him, Chan would send a small smile your way. You’d urge yourself to mirror the gesture, but you’d end up looking down shyly like some lovestruck maiden.

“No, I can’t control everyone’s minds, nor can I read everything.” Seungmin explains, “It all depends on the skill of a Whisper and the power of the target’s mind.”

“So…if you try to control Ho, it won’t work?” Jisung questions.

“No, I don’t think so. I tried when I went to District 9 with Minho, but I couldn’t get through. It was really hard getting into Chan’s mind also.” Seungmin stops himself, looking down at this plate shyly, “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I really am.”

Chan smiles, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Woojin also asks a question, “On a scale of 1 to 10, how powerful do you think your abilities are?”

“Maybe…6?” Seungmin muses, “I could be more skilled and better at what I do like the Whispers in Dolorem, but…”

Jeongin tilts his head, gently smiling at the Whisper, “You’re afraid?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What’s there to be so scared of?” Felix curiously asks after he yawns.

Seungmin looks at you, and you encourage him to open up to the Newbloods. You give him a reassuring smile as he hesitates. Eventually he sighs and says, “Having the ability to read minds is like knowing everything. Once you’re able to actually access every single person’s mind, you find out everything.”

“But some things are better off not being known, am I right?” Chan knowingly smiles at the younger male.

“Yes!” Seungmin nods as if someone finally understood his struggles, “You end up reading or hearing thoughts and ideas you’re not supposed to.”

“Yeah, and mind controlling can be really bad if it falls into the wrong hands.” Woojin adds.

Seungmin hums, “If the Council were all Whispers, they’d have everyone doing their bidding, at their beck and call. They could have Minho kill everyone with one command, and he wouldn’t even be able to fight them. They could rule this whole kingdom with no questions asked.”

“Yeesh, that is scary. I get it now.” Jisung shudders at the thought, “Good thing you aren’t like them.”

Seungmin chews his lip, eyes tainted with a sorrowful color. “I would have been if y/n and the others didn’t meet you all. I was being raised to be…the Council’s minion. Both me and Minho.”

“What changed?” Chan asks genuinely, and you can’t help but turn to face him when he asks that question. His eyes are so intently focused on Seungmin, and you can see how the stars in them are sparkling with interest at this possible new friendship with the Whisper who exposed his mind.    

Seungmin hums for a moment before shrugging, “Another reason why I’m so scared of Whisper abilities is because you never know how to use them. My duty is supposedly to keep y/n safe, so that means to deduce and predict the minds of everyone who seems to be a threat. If you think about it, it all sounds noble and good. But when I think about it, I can’t help but feel that my abilities just make things worse for everyone.”

“Min, that’s not true.”

“It was my ability that Minho used to get into Hyunjin’s head which revealed your location at Yellow Wood. It was my ability that exposed Chan’s mind and led to a really big fight between y/n, Minho, and the Newbloods.” Seungmin dejectedly admits, tears now starting to prick at his eyes.

You panic and gently squeeze his hand to calm him down. Jeongin and Felix frown as they sympathize with the Silver. Chan, however, gives the young male a calm smile, “Yeah, but it was your ability that led you to question Ho, right? You read Jeongin’s mind and questioned Ho’s motives, leading you, Changbin, and Hyunjin to investigating.

“How’d you know that?” Seungmin asks.

“Bambam told me.”

“You know Bambam too?”

Felix shrugs, “Everyone knows Bambam.”

“Anyway,” Woojin laughs, “Thank you for sharing that, Seungmin, but Felix is about to fall asleep on the table so I think we should call it a day.”

Felix grumbles, and Jisung has to carry him to his room upstairs. Woojin, and surprisingly Seungmin, offer to do the dishes and clear the table. You think that Seungmin just has a liking to Woojin whom he sees as some sort of older brother due to their similarities in nature. Jeongin wanted to check on the horse outside, so you and Chan quietly went back upstairs.

Later that evening, once you had changed into a nightgown, you walked back to Chan’s room to see him laying on the bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. You debated on whether you’d sit on the bed or go back downstairs to Jeongin who was eating a late-night snack. You opted for the latter, but when Chan called out your name in a serious tone, you froze in your spot. “Aha, I forgot you could hear even my footsteps.” you try to joke.

“Why do I feel like you don’t want to be here?” Chan asks, now sitting on the bed.

“Because I live in the castle?” you try, but Chan’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine.

“You’ve changed.”

“Well, damn it, Chan. Of course I have. Do you have any idea on how much I’ve had to go through ever since that day?” you turn to him, nearly hissing the words out like an angry snake, “Don’t expect me to be happy and carefree like before because look where that led me! Look where that led you! Look where that led us!”

Chan is now standing, arms crossed across his broad chest, “I’m not saying you have to be the old y/n. You’re free to feel however you want.”

“Then what’s your problem? What do you want?”

“Talk to me.”

“What?”

“I haven’t seen you for so long, and I just wanted you to talk to me like you did before.”

“Chan.” you sigh in disbelief.

“I’m not asking you to look at me the way you did before. I’m not asking you to treat me like before. At least treat me like a friend? You seem pretty capable of doing that with the others.” Chan sadly smiles, “Even if what we had is gone, it doesn’t change that I still care for you.”

“No, stop. Stop right there, Bang Chan.” you raise a finger in order to shush the male, “Don’t even try. Stop it, shut up.”

“Y/n – ”

“I said stop it!” Without much thought, your whole body combusts in flames. When you see the look or surprise – and hurt – on Chan’s face, you take a deep breath and put out the flames. “Just don’t.”

You turn for the door, but in a matter of seconds, the door is slammed shut with your back pressed against it. Your eyes widen in confusion as Chan cages you between his body and the door, staring at you with burning eyes. “Say it to my face, y/n.”

Your throat goes dry as you try to level the intensity of how his eyes bore into yours. Your vision seems to go blurry and the room falls dead silent despite everything being seemingly normal; perhaps the proximity to the male was doing things to you as usual.

“I can’t get attached to you again, Bang Chan. Not again.” you quietly say, having given up on maintaining eye contact with him.

“Why?”

“I have three weeks maximum. In other words, I can’t stay here forever. I’m going to have to go back to Miroh to sort things out.” you realize your hands are unconsciously shaking, “And when that happens, I don’t want to be too attached to you.”

“You know, I was telling Woojin the same thing yesterday?” Chan whispers, voice low and husky.

You shrug, “Maybe you can deal with things better, I don’t know. But for me, if I get attached to you, it’s game over. I’m going to end up wanting to stay here instead of going back to Miroh.”

When Chan reaches up to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, you force your eyes to close in attempt to keep the fluttering feeling in your stomach at bay. When his hand gently cups your cheek, you let out a sigh and whisper, “The more I fall for you, the more I’m going to want to stay here with you. We both know we can’t have that, Chan.”

“At least we’re on the same page with that.” Chan lowly chuckles, his breath tickling your skin.

“Chan, I don’t know – ”

Forget about completing your sentence because Chan’s hands were on your hips, lips attacking yours in a fiery kiss. Unlike the ones from before, this was stronger and rougher, almost as if Chan was making up for all those times you were apart. His kisses are hungry and desperate, movements rushed frantic. Needless to say, so were you. You reciprocated his kiss with the same vigor, head spinning and nerves buzzing from the adrenaline of your lips chorusing together with a rawness and intensity much more blazing than the flames your own body carried. He gently bites your lower lip when you tangle your fingers in his already messy hair. A sigh escapes your lips as Chan pushes you against the door, making sure the boys outside don’t hear a single noise. You’re thankful he does that, otherwise the boys would hear the sighs escaping your lips as Chan’s tongue danced with yours; living life with the embarrassment of them hearing such intimate acts was not exactly an ideal situation for you.

After a while, you both pull away, foreheads pressed against each other as you try to catch your breath. Chan murmurs against your swollen lips, “I missed you, y/n. So much.”

“I missed you too.” your voice quivers when you respond, but the smile curling at your lips was enough to make the male grin. “I’m not being a drama queen, but it was torture thinking about you all the time.”

He licks his lips before smiling, “I know this happiness isn’t going to last for the both of us, y/n, but the least we can do is make it worth-while as you stay here for the time being.”

You hum, eyes on his chest as your fingers draw random patterns there, “Won’t that hurt both of us in the end?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Chan answers, his tone expressing how sure he was of himself, “But it’s better than ignoring each other for three weeks and regretting it in the end.”

“Ok.” you say with a small voice to match the miniscule smile on your lips.

Chan pulls you into his arms, winding them around your waist as the familiar feel of his body envelopes you in a comforting embrace. You instantly melt, wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel all the ache slip away, but in the same manner, tears have started to gracefully cascade down your face. You bury your face by the crook of his neck, voice muffled when you speak, “I’m sorry, Chan. I really am.”

“Shhh, it’s alright, y/n.” he hushes you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I did this to you all.”

“Y/n,” Chan kisses the top of your head several times before rubbing your back, “it’s really ok. Don’t blame yourself for everything. You need to stop doing that. I understand what you had to do, so please, don’t hurt yourself over this anymore. It’s done, it’s ok.”

“I can’t believe you can bear with me.” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look up at him.

He chuckles, kissing your nose, “I’d be stupid for giving up on you, y/n.”

“Why?”

“Because you give me hope.” Chan’s lips are on yours again, slower and softer this time. More careful and more intimate.

“So do you, Chan.” you break the kiss briefly to whisper before going back in again, “So do you.”

[ladyshandioftheendless]

~Don’t Fear the Demon~

Alright, my babies here’s that end of the year bro story I talked about doing yesterday! HAPPY NEW YEAR, CLASSIC ROCK FAM!! HERE’S TO 2020!!

~Shandi

StarChild helps Demon adjust to his new life on the KISSterian surface..and the unfortunate stigma that comes with it. 

“My Prince what have you done?!” 

The KISSterian Council looked positively scandalized when their Prince walked into the Council Hall with a Demon from the dreaded Underworld. But StarChild stood beside his new companion proudly, ignoring the disgusted looks and whispers. “I’ve simply come here to show you my new friend~ You will treat him the way you treat any other citizen of KISSteria. The Palace is his home now. If I hear about any abuses..well..I’m afraid it won’t be my wrath you will have to face.” 

“You would let that creature do us harm?!”

StarChild shrugged. “He is his own person..not my pet. I am not responsible for how he reacts to being prodded. Do so at your own risk.” With those words, they both turned and walked out. 

“You are not concerned about the consequences of this?”

“Why should I be? I am their Prince. They cannot do anything to me without risking the Elder finding out.” 

Demon snorted. “And why would she care?” 

“Because..she is my mother.” 

“…really now?” 

“Really. I trust you will not repeat that to anyone.” 

“Who would I tell?” 

“Good point~” 

StarChild led Demon downstairs to the lower Star Chambers. It was dark and dimly lit, and Demon took an immediate liking to it. “I thought you might enjoy being down here~” StarChild said, leading him to a thick wooden door. “I had one of the unused Chambers fashioned into quarters for you. I hope you like it~” Surprised, Demon went inside and looked around. The decor was certainly impressive. Black gargoyle statues stood as posts framing a large comfortable bed, covered with red silk sheets, plush red pillows and a black quilted blanket. Candles in a chandelier on the ceiling provided the only light since there were no windows, which pleased Demon greatly. Along with the usual bedroom amenities he noticed and armor stand in the corner. A glimmering suit of black armor was displayed upon it, decorated with silver chains and flaming red gems, with pointed ivory talons molded into the grieves and a red cape embroidered with flames. Demon stared at the display in disbelief. “Is..this for me..?” StarChild smiled. “Do you like it? I thought armor would suit you~” 

“No one..has ever given me anything like this..not even my mentor..” 

“Then I’m even more grateful you’re here..because now I can give you what you truly deserve~” 

Demon turned to his new companion with a genuine smile. “Thank you. Truly.” 

“It’s my pleasure~ I’ll stay to help you if you like~” 

“Help..with what?” 

“To get you into your new armor!” 

“Why?” 

“There’s an event I must attend this evening. A King from a distant realm who is traveling the Cosmos is stopping to rest here in KISSteria. We’re celebrating his arrival with a grand feast. I’d..like it if you attended with me..” Demon looked at the armor again. He was quite curious how it would look on him..so why not? “Very well. I think..yes. I may need help.” 

“Wonderful~!” 

~*~

Later that evening StarChild and Demon walked arm in arm to the Ceremony Hall. The Star Prince looked quite fetching himself, dressed in one of his usual lowcut black spandex suits, belt, collar and platform heeled boots all decorated with rhinestone stars and a purple sequined jacket with black feathers lining its lapels and sleeves. Eyes were instantly drawn to them as they walked down the halls, mainly looks of disdain and gossip. 

“Do you see that hideous thing on the Prince’s arm?”

“Indeed. What is he thinking?”

“Maybe it has him over some kind of spell. How could the Elder allow this?” 

“I hear they’re sleeping together. Disgusting!” 

Demon could hear them all, and the urge the set them all in fire was rising. Then he felt StarChild squeeze his arm. “Pay not attention to their prattle. They unfortunately have nothing better to do with their time. We both know what we truly are to each other. That’s all that’s important.” Demon looked at him and nodded. Those were indeed wise words. 

When they entered the Hall, the Elder greeted them with a small nod. Beside her stood the guest of honor. King Robert Lionsmane was more handsome than the last time StarChild had seen him. His regal attire matched well with his thick crown of long golden curls. StarChild approached the King with a timid smile. “It's..an honor to see you again, Your Majesty~ I do hope you will save a dance for me later~” King Robert smiled. “The honor would be mine, Prince StarChild~ Perhaps later after dinner?” 

“I would like that~” 

Demon found himself dreading what would happen once he was left alone. 

~*~

Dinner passed without indecent, with the exception of some unkind stares. Demon grew tired of it quickly. It was as if every move he made was being studied and judged. What he wouldn’t give to gouge some of their eyes out, but for StarChild’s sake he remained ‘civil,’. King Robert was surprisingly kind to him, often engaging him in conversation. It was rather refreshing to be treated like..a person. Once dinner was ended everyone returned to the Ceremony Hall. Demon sighed. “Must you leave..?” StarChild squeezed his hand. “I know you’re feeling uncomfortable..but I think you’ll be fine if you stay with Mother. I owe a certain gorgeous King a dance~” Demon shook his head as his companion practically floated off into King Robert’s arms. Young mortals and their foolish fleeting affections. He wandered over to the Elder who was speaking with a member of the Council. “Come and join me, Demon.” she said with a smile. The Councilman was less than kind. “Are you sure that’s wise, Elder? The creature may ‘accidentally’ set you on fire or something.” The Elder sighed. “I am certain he has more control than that.” 

“‘He?’ Don’t you mean ‘it’? I wasn’t aware Demons had genders.”

Demon growled. “I am clearly a male. If you do not believe my words I can give you visual proof.” The Councilman scoffed. “Typical of beasts like you. Always devolving into vulgarity. Elder..doesn’t its influence on the Prince concern you?”

“I have seen no ‘influence’ that would cause me concern.” the Elder replied with a shrug. “I trust the Prince to use his own judgement in this matter, and so should you.” 

“If the Prince was of sound mind why would he defile himself by being with this..thing instead of a proper wife?” That was the last straw. Demon’s eyes blazed with fire as he glared murderously at the Councilman. “If the Prince knew you spoke of him in such a way without his knowledge how confident would you be in maintaining your position then? If you think he is so easily swayed then perhaps you should offer your ‘services’ to another Realm.”

“I am fine here, thank you. It is you who do not belong.”

“So you have all told me! Many times in fact! But I am not going anywhere unless the Prince bids it..SO DEAL WITH IT!!”

Demon’s outburst cause the entire room to go silent. First there were disapproving glares, then the whispering started. Demon snarled at them and left. He’d had quite enough. StarChild bit his lip. “Please excuse me, Your Majesty. I must go and see to me friend.” King Robert nodded and kissed his hand. “Of course. My only regret is our dance ending much too soon~” With a blush StarChild waved goodbye and quickly left the Hall with everyone else staring after him. 

~*~

Upon entering his room Demon tore off his cape. How those people infuriated him! He didn’t want to see them..didn’t want to hear the inane trash that spewed from their mouths ever again! How he wished he could return home..but then he would just be back where he started. He couldn’t bear to go through that again. He turned when he heard a knock. It was StarChild. “You could just come in you know. The door wasn’t closed.” 

“I know..but that would be impolite. I’m..sorry about what happened.” 

“Are you? I figured you’d be too busy getting lost in the King’s eyes.” 

“You are my friend, Demon. You are important to me too.” 

“Why do you continue to suffer their indignities? I am not worth it.” 

“Yes you are!!” 

Demon stared at the Star Prince with narrowed eyes. “You do remember what I am do you not? What I represent to them?” StarChild shook his head. “I know what you are..and I don’t care. You’re the only one besides Mother who has treated me like I matter. You don’t know how important that is to me.” He sat Demon down on his bed and leaned against him. “If I had a choice..I’d much rather stay here with you than be..back there.” 

“But you must go back.” 

“As the Prince of KISSteria..yes I must.” 

“Then I will be here waiting.” 

StarChild smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Demon. Believe me when I say you are the first true friend I have ever had..and I am happy you are here with me~” 

“I’m..glad you are.” 

“I will return as soon as I can slip away again. Then we can do something fun together..just us~” 

“I..would like that.” 

Demon watched the Star Prince leave his room and close the door behind him. He thought back on their words and smiled. He was strong. He could endure this. For StarChild’s friendship..he could endure anything. 

~END~

[thebuckblogimo]

The Faja Essays.

May 22, 2020

We have all met people along the way who have influenced our lives. If I were to do a “top ten” of those who influenced mine, Garry Faja, my high school buddy who died last summer, would be high on the list. The son of working class parents whose father emigrated from Poland and repaired machinery at the Rouge plant, Garry went on to become the President and CEO of St. Joseph Mercy Health System. Recently, I and four or five of Garry’s friends and former healthcare profession colleagues were asked to write essays for a book about him being compiled by a friend from his grad school days at U-M. It is intended to be a keepsake for Garry’s only child. I was honored to be asked to contribute stories about Garry’s early life. Because several people who follow this space knew him well, I’ve posted the portion I wrote below:

First Impressions.

I had heard of Garry when he was an eighth-grader during the 1960-61 school year at St. Barbara’s grade school, near Schaefer and Michigan in East Dearborn. I was also in the eighth grade, attending St. Alphonsus school, just a mile or two to the north. Garry and I both had neighborhood reputations as athletes at our respective schools.

St. Al’s, however, had a much more successful CYO sports program than St. Barbara’s. We won our divisional football championship in the fall, going undefeated; we won our divisional basketball championship in the winter, going undefeated again; and we were 6 and 0 in the league in baseball that spring when we played Garry’s St. Barbara team on a sunny May afternoon at Gear Field.

That’s when--BAM--it happened: “Down go the Arrows…down go the Arrows…to Dearborn St. Barbara’s.” An old news clip from The Michigan Catholic, a popular weekly newspaper in those days, included the following snippet about CYO baseball that spring: “Dearborn St. Barbara’s came through with the upset of the week by knocking off St. Alphonsus, 11-8. St. Alphonsus still holds first place in the Southwest Division with a 6-1 mark.”

Neither Garry nor I could ever recall how either one of us performed on the field that day. We did recall, however, that we both looked forward to joining forces and playing sports together in high school. St. Barbara did not have a high school; St. Alphonsus did. Garry had long planned to enroll for his freshman year (1961-62) at St. Al’s, where his brother had been a track star, one of the top high school hurdlers in the state.

When we began high school in the fall of ‘61, I recall standing in the middle of the playground with my close friend Anthony Adams, along with Sam Bitonti and Patrick Rogers. I remember looking over to Calhoun, the side-street on which the high school was located, and noticed a small procession of cars dropping off new students from St. Barbara’s: twins Jim and Mike Keller, Sue Hudzik, Margo Tellish (Garry’s grade school girlfriend) and the “big fella” himself.

At the urging of Garry’s mother, Jim, Mike and Garry wore white shirts to school that day. “The boys” and I, on the other hand, wore multi-colored shirts (mine was purple), skinny ties, tight pants and pointed shoes. Looking like “the Sharks” from West Side Story, we approached the new kids, welcomed them to St. Al’s and shook their hands.

I’ve long thought that the way we were each dressed that day—Garry in his white button-down, me in my bold attire—portended the essence of what we would ultimately take away from each other at the completion of high school: for me, a determination to go about things the right way; for him, a touch of edginess.

The Person. The Scholar. The Athlete.

I never knew anyone who didn’t like Garry Faja. Unless, that is, you count a hulking bruiser by the name of “Bucyk” from Ashtabula, who elbowed our buddy Tony Adams in the chest and tried to intimidate us on the street at Geneva-on-the-Lake, Ohio. (Thank God we talked our way out of that one.) Otherwise, all the guys, girls, parents, nuns and coaches of the St. Al’s community loved Garry. He commanded respect on every level—for his heart, his intelligence, his athletic prowess.

Garry was a born leader. Despite being the “new guy,” he made such a good early impression in high school that he was elected president of the freshman class. He was a member of the student council all four years. And he was elected president of our senior class.

Garry was an excellent student, a member of the National Honor Society. He was neither class valedictorian--that was Lorraine Denby--nor the salutatorian--that was my girlfriend, Leslie Klein—but he had an extraordinary ability to “figure things out,” enabling him to excel at algebra, trigonometry, chemistry, the sciences. Moreover, he was highly disciplined. He had what our parents called “stick-to-it-tive-ness,” and it served him well at everything he did.

Garry was an organizer, a strategic thinker, who rallied for increased student attendance and crowd participation at high school games, involvement in a big-brother/big-sister-type mentoring program by seniors for freshmen, as well as causes he believed in. For example, it was Garry, with support from senior class leaders such as Larry Fitch, Vince Capizzo, Tony Adams and myself who compiled a list of “Ten Demands” that were presented to the school principal, Sister Marie Ruth, on behalf of the Class of ’65. It was, essentially, a protest against what we perceived to be unreasonable rules and disciplinary actions created by the priests and nuns of St. Alphonsus: single-file lines and “no talking” during change of class; locked school doors on sub-zero mornings during winter; mandatory daily Mass attendance, etc.

It was a daring, out-of-the box challenge to religious authority for a bunch of Catholic high school kids in those days. Predictably, our demands went nowhere and we were disciplined by having to stay inside the school for two weeks during recess, and, ironically, forbidden to attend daily Mass for two weeks. (The nuns showed us, I guess.)  

Sometimes I wonder whether our youthful backlash, with Garry at the forefront, was an early tip-off to the kind of student thinking that morphed into the free-speech movement and anti-war protests that developed on college campuses across the country a year or two later.

As highly as Garry is remembered as a person and leader by St. Al’s Class of ’65, he is recalled by “old Arrows” for his basketball playing ability. He was a starter on the JV squad from day one of his freshman year. However, it took just a few weeks for the coaches to realize that he was talented enough to help the varsity. In Coach Dave Kline’s last year at St. Alphonsus, Garry was moved up to the varsity where he became “sixth man,” before being designated a starter at mid-season. That was big stuff, really big stuff, for a freshman at our school.

So what kind of player was Garry?

A mini-version of former U-M standout Terry Mills, in my estimation. He was a shade under 6’2” tall…thick-skinned…had a nice 15-foot jump shot…and an ability to use his derriere to “get position” under the basket. Any former St. Al’s player would tell you that Garry had game and a distinctive way of gliding up and down the court. For some reason, he also suffered severely sprained ankles more often than any other young athlete I have ever known.

Garry and I were starters together for three years under Coach Ron Mrozinski and were elected co-captains as seniors. Garry once said, “Lenny, we gotta be the team’s one-two punch.” I had speed and quickness, often stealing the ball at mid-court, and would dump it off to Garry who could be counted on to fill the lane. If he came up with the ball after the other team turned it over, I was to beat my man and streak toward the basket, expecting to receive the ball from Garry. We pulled that stuff off dozens of times each year. But we never realized our dream of winning the Catholic League’s A-West Division title and competing in the Catholic League tournament at the U-D Memorial Building (now called Calihan Hall).

However, Garry was named to the Dearborn Independent’s all-city basketball team after his senior season in 1965, a particularly special honor when you consider that St. Al’s had an enrollment of just 450 students, while most other first-teamers and “honorable mentions” on the all-city squad came from Class A schools with enrollments approaching 2,000 (Fordson, Dearborn High and Edsel Ford).

Happy Days at Camp Dearborn.

It was prime time for Dearborn during the early-to-mid ‘60s. The city had idyllic neighborhoods, spilling over with kids from the baby boom generation. The Ford Rouge plant was pumping out record numbers of vehicles, including an all-new “pony car” called the Mustang. And it owned Camp Dearborn (in Milford, 30-35 miles away), over 600 acres of rolling land with several man-made lakes, devoted to the recreational interests of Dearborn residents.

One of Camp Dearborn’s attractions was a narrow tract of land along the Huron River, designated for tent camping by teenagers. Dubbed “Hobo Village,” it was “chaperoned”—if you want to call it that--by a couple of disinterested college kids who worked day jobs, cleaning up the camp, and who lived in their own tent on the river.  As 15-year-olds in the summer of ’62, Garry and I got our first taste of independence when we camped there together for a week.

We set up a large tent, with two cots inside, that my Dad had purchased at a garage sale. We hung a Washington Senators pennant to decorate its interior. And we subsisted on Spam and eggs that we cooked in a Sunbeam electric fry pan (we had access to electricity) that my Mom let us borrow.

Every evening we’d cross the camp on foot en route to the Canteen for the nightly dances. We’d get “pumped” every time we heard “Do You Love Me” by the Contours playing in the distance. Our goal, of course, was to meet “chicks,” and we attended the dances for seven straight nights. However, I don’t recall that we ever met a girl. Or even mustered the courage to ask one to dance.

But that all changed in the summer of ’63.

Camp Dearborn had another, larger camping area for families called “Tent Village,” featuring hundreds of tents built of canvas and wood, set on slabs of concrete, each equipped with a shed-like structure that housed a mini refrigerator, mini stove and shelves for storing staples. The mother of our classmate, Patty O’Reilly, agreed to chaperone a tent full of St. Al’s girls, next to the O’Reilly family tent, while Tony’s mother, Mrs. Adams, agreed to chaperone a tent full of boys, next to the Adams family tent.

Tony, Vince Capizzo, Larry Fitch, Dennis Belmont, Garry and I occupied one tent. Our girlfriends occupied the other. Much to my amazement, my parents allowed me to take their new, 1963 Pontiac Bonneville coupe to camp for the week. So we had everything we needed—hot chicks, a hot car, rock ‘n’ roll, the dances and secret “make out” spots in the camp (Garry’s girlfriend at the time was a cute blonde St. Al’s cheerleader, Donna Hutson). It all made for perhaps the happiest days of our teenage lives.

And we did it all over again in the summer of ’64.

During both years we were involved in shenanigans galore: We threw grape “Fizzies” into the camp’s swimming pool…we switched out a hamburger from Vince’s hamburger bun and replaced it with a Gainsburger (dog food)…and one afternoon we took my Dad’s Bonneville out to a lonely, two-lane country road, just outside of General Motors’ proving grounds in Milford, where we floored the accelerator and topped out somewhere north of 100 mph. It scared the shit out of us when we hit a bird in mid-flight that splattered all over the windshield. Thank God for laminated safety glass. Thank God we lived to tell the tale.

Which brings me to the “edgy” side of the teenage Garry Faja.

Stupid Stuff We Did.

When Garry came to St. Al’s, my circle of friends became his circle of friends. And an eclectic group it was. Some were college bound kids. Some were mischievous pranksters. A few were borderline juvenile delinquents. None of us, including Garry, were immune to peer pressure. Consequently, we did some pretty stupid things. Here are a few examples:

The Toledo Caper--On a snowy Friday night after a basketball game during our sophomore year in high school, Garry, Jim “Bo” Bozynski and I trudged down Warren Avenue in our letter jackets, headed for Bo’s house, with the intention of ordering a pizza.

It was, perhaps, ten o’clock at night as we crossed the field in front of Bo’s home on Manor in five-inch-deep snow. As we looked ahead, Bo surmised that because the house looked dark, his parents were already in bed and likely asleep. That’s when he hatched a plan:

Bo proposed to enter the back door of his house, go to the kitchen and retrieve the keys to the Bozynski’s ’58 Mercury sedan. Then, he, Garry and I would quietly open the garage door, push the Merc down the snow-covered driveway and out to the street, where we would start the car…and head for Toledo.

Neither Garry nor I objected to the idea. Ultimately, the plan worked to perfection.

However, we were just 15 years old and had not yet obtained our driver’s licenses. Plus, Bo grabbed a bottle of Bali Hai wine that he had stashed in the garage. And, the snow kept falling…then turned to rain. We drove through slop and glop on Telegraph Road, made it to I-75 and took turns at the wheel between gulps of cheap wine as the windshield wipers labored to clear the mounting sleet piling up on the windshield.

I was sitting in the back seat, the bottle of Bali at my side, when the car slid out of control in the middle of the southbound freeway, somewhere in the downriver area. I don’t recall whether it was Bo or Garry who was driving at the time. But I do recall that the car made a 360, sliding across two lanes of freeway, before coming to an abrupt stop in a snow bank on the side of the road.

We got out of the car. No one had hit us. Miraculously, we had not hit anyone or anything. There was no damage to the Bozynski’s family car. That’s when three stupid teenagers got back into the vehicle, reversed course, headed for Dearborn, killed the engine as we turned into the Bozynski’s driveway, silently pushed the Merc back into the garage, and turned in for the night at Bo’s.

No one was ever the wiser.

The Speeding Ticket—Both Garry’s parents and mine were strict disciplinarians when it came to girls and dating, but they rarely said no whenever we asked to borrow the car. We had already turned 16 when on a beautiful June day we took a bus downtown, filled out some paperwork (or maybe took a test) and obtained our drivers’ licenses. My Dad used his old ’58 Chrysler to get to work that day and let me have the Bonneville for our use when I got home. So, Garry, Larry and I jumped in the car and headed to Rouge Park for some joy riding. As usual, we disconnected the speedometer and took the “breather” off the carb so that the exhaust would make a throatier sound when we put the pedal to the medal. When we got to the park, I turned the wheel over to Garry. It was not as though he ordinarily had a heavy foot, but he did that day. I doubt that Garry was at the wheel for more than a few minutes when he spotted the red flasher of a Detroit cop car in the rear-view mirror. We pulled over. The policeman was all business…and gave Garry a ticket for speeding. Garry’s parents were furious that afternoon when he got home and explained what had happened. Garry went to court and lost his license for 30 days.

The Stolen Cadillac--It was a beautiful summer evening and we were playing our usual game of pick-up basketball in the alley between Tony’s house and Schaefer Lanes. As I recall, four of us were just shooting around—Garry, Tony, Butch Forystek and me. Someone looked up and noticed that a 1963 Cadillac Coupe de Ville had turned off the side-street, Morross, and was slowly making its way up the alley. It stopped in front of us. Our pals, Joe McCracken and Gary “the Bear” Pearson, jumped out of the car. Turns out that the Caddy had been parked in front of a store, with the keys in the ignition. Joe and Bear got in, fired up the Caddy, and drove it to Tony’s. Then we all got in, took turns driving the car, and went to M&H gas station to buy Coke and chips. For reasons unknown, Joe and Bear unlocked the trunk of the car. Underneath the rear deck lid were piles of pressed clothes on hangers in plastic bags, apparently for delivery by someone who owned a dry-cleaning establishment. Also, there was a narrow envelope atop the pile of clothes. Someone opened it. Much to our amazement it contained over $200 in cash. We all got back into the car and headed for a cruise down Woodward Avenue. We stopped along the way at a sporting goods store to buy a new basketball. On northbound Woodward, as it passes over Eight Mile Road in Detroit, Butch grabbed a handful of cash and threw it out the window. (It seemed hilarious at the time.) Garry and I each took a five-dollar bill, reasoning that keeping such a paltry sum would not be considered a “mortal sin.” After taking turns doing “neutral slams” at red lights, we turned the car around, headed back to Tony’s, and continued playing basketball while Joe and the Bear ditched the car. 

Again, no one was ever the wiser.  

The Shotgun Incident—It was a crisp fall afternoon. Garry and I were hanging out with Tony in his parents’ basement, while Mr. and Mrs. Adams were away, attending some sort of event. Tony knew where Mr. Adams, a bird hunter, stored his shotgun, and proceeded to take it out to show us. There were also a few boxes of shells next to the gun. Tony informed us that his Dad owned a large piece of vacant property in an area that was known as Canton Township at the time. Knowing that his folks would not be home for several hours, we took the shotgun, a box of shells and placed it in the trunk of Mrs. Adams’ Ford Falcon. Off we went to the property in Canton. To hunt sparrows. Tony had seen his father load the gun. Otherwise, none of us had ever had any training in the proper handling of firearms. We knew enough to stand behind the guy with the shotgun in his hands. We took turns shooting into the trees. And bagged a couple of small birds. We eventually returned to Tony’s and put the shotgun away. 

Yet again, no one was ever the wiser.

How The 53-Game Streak Started.

Most people know that Garry and I attended 53 straight Michigan-Michigan State football games together—whether in Ann Arbor or East Lansing—from 1965 to 2017. In fact, when the streak ended, we had been in-stadium for 48 percent of the Michigan-Michigan State games ever played.

Prior to the 2018 game, however, Garry determined that he would not be able to negotiate the steep ramps to the second deck of Spartan Stadium due to his failing knees. So, for the first time in our lives—since the days of black and white TV--we watched the game together on the tube. Here is the seemingly unremarkable way a renowned tradition began…plus a closing thought:

As I remember it, Tony Adams, Garry and I were sitting in my bedroom on a hot, steamy, mid-August afternoon, making future plans as we counted down the days to the beginning of our respective college careers. Tony would be going off to Western Michigan University as a business major. Garry would be attending U-M, majoring in engineering. While I planned to attend MSU to study journalism.

We had been athletes. Competitors to the core. Garry and I knew that our respective schools would rarely, if ever, be playing Western, but we certainly understood that he and I would be butting heads in the future, pulling for opposing teams in the Big Ten Conference every year. So, in a spirit of friendship, we mutually decided to get together every fall to attend the Michigan-Michigan State football game until one of us died.

It was as simple as that.

But when I think back to that muggy August afternoon when we made our pact, it seems a metaphor for all the goals, hopes and dreams we so often talked about between the games, joy rides, dances, pranks, parties and school projects we collaborated on at St. Al’s from 1961 to 1965. I often think, for example, about how Garry and I worked alternate days at my uncle’s store, from the spring of our junior year until the fall of our senior year, and shared tips and insights into how we each did our jobs—long before anyone ever used the term “best practices”--so that we could be the best damn stock boys my uncle ever had. As I hinted earlier, I will always be grateful to Garry for making a lasting contribution to my determination to do things the right way in life. And I’d like to think that Garry thought well of my tendency to “push the envelope” on the things I attempted, and that maybe I made a contribution to the release of his creative potential.     

Miss you, Big Guy.

[sarcastic-sunshines]

Letters for my Love - Chapter 2

A/N: So it appears I don’t know how to do a one shot lol. But that’s okay, because I have a vision for this story and I am excited to share it with you all as it unravels. I appreciated all your reactions to the first part and tried to tag as many of you as I could remember who liked it. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.

Warning: It pulls at your heartstrings a bit’

Pairing: T’Challa x Black Reader

Chapter 1

________________________________________________________________

My Love,

Yesterday was Nobomi’s  fourth birthday. To think out little girl is growing so fast. It also marks 4 years since I lost you, the time has gone fast yet I still miss you like it is the first day. Though things have changed since then, especially considering I spent the end of our daughter’s first birthday in tears.

Yesterday I was almost brought to tears again when I thought about how my baby is no longer a baby. She is a talkative, inquisitive, beautiful child. Her face hasn’t changed since the day you brought her into this world. Her eyes still hold your glow, and each time it steals my heart.

It is hard to think she will be starting school in a week.  She is so excited, meanwhile I haven’t felt this nervous since the day I proposed to you. She is not going to need me as much anymore and I am not sure how to feel about that. Since the day she was born, everyday has been consumed in making sure she is happy and loved. If she is spending most of her day at school what am I supposed to do with my day now.

Its moments like this that I miss you most. I still imagine the shared nervousness we would have had leading up to this milestone. I often think about all the moments I wished I had been able to hold your hand through. It makes me think of all the love we shared for each other, the love I held so strongly for you and accepting I will never experience that again.

I do not have too much time to dwell on the ifs and maybes of life. I have a little girl who needs help picking out a backpack for her first day. I am quite excited to be apart of this process.

Yours Forever,

T’Challa.

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T’Challa sat on his office chair with a smile as he watched the newest four year old in town model different backpacks, hoping to pick the best one for her first day at school. He sat completely shocked by his child as she did  spins to give him the full experience.

“Okay Baba which one do you like better?” He made a face making it seem as though he was deep in thought making the little girl giggle.

“I think the one with the blue rhino is the better choice Nono. It seems to be the perfect size for you and I think it will hold all your books.” She stared back before picking up a completely different napsack from the one T’Challa recommended.

“I like this one better Baba.” T’Challa chuckled. Just like her mother, he thought.

“Well was I any help to be you”

“Yes! You were the audience in my fashion parade” He let out a boisterous laugh while Nobomi crawled into his lap giving him a big hug and a kiss.

“Baba are you gonna be the one to take me to school on Monday?”

“Of course Nobomi wam. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You are growing so big you know.” he said smoothing out the two big puffs on her head.

“I know Baba, Auntie Shuri says I will be so grown up soon, I will able to go on trips all by myself like you” The thought scared T’Challa. He was barely coping with her being 15 minutes away for 6 hours of the day, let alone think about her being halfway across the world for Bast knows how long.

“Why don’t we focus on school first?” She nodded absentmindedly as she searched for games on her Baba’s kimoyo beads. There was a knock on the door drawing T’Challa’s attention away from Nobomi. The door opened and the mining elder strolled in.

“Hello Kumkani, I was hoping to have a few words with you?”

“Of course.” He placed Nobomi on the ground leading her to the door. “Nono, why don’t you go find your Auntie Shuri and I will come get you in a little while for dinner”

“Okay, but only if we can have french fries”

“That’s fine, I will see you soon okay” The little girl nodded giving him a hug goodbye before her Dora led her to Shuri’s lab. T’Challa smiled closing the door. The mining elder smiled too.

“She is growing so quickly, to think I remember blessing her during the naming ceremony” T’Challa smiled at the memory while picking up the backpacks that had been abandoned for Nobomi’s preferred option.

“I know, now she is starting school and making demands, I am sure she has me fully wrapped around her finger.” He took his seat waiting for the elderly woman to begin discussing what she came here for. “How can I be of service to you”

“I actually came to discuss you kumkani”

“What about exactly?”

“My King, I and some other members on the counsel think it is advisable for you to take another Queen.” She said slowly gauging his reaction, which was complete shock.

“Why is that any of your business? Or anyone on the counsel? I have an heir and my mother is Queen regent so I do not see-”

“My King, if you will allow me, this is why I was asked to approach you privately. It is more than just an heir. Your mother is aging and is not as active as she once was. When your wife was here she was able to handle Queenly duties. Since her passing, those duties have not been getting done as quickly as they should be. Which is understandable, considering you are already wearing yourself quite thin my King”

“I am not complaining am I” the King retorted.

“No, but your efficiency is evidence you need help. The princess is starting school soon, and I know you have discussed going on less missions to be able to be with her since she cannot travel with you anymore. But that is not a responsible decision for a King, especially as a nation that is still forming its placement in the international community. If you had a Queen you would not have to divide yourself so much.”

“I can send representatives, many countries do so.” T’Challa felt cornered. How long had his counsel felt he had been doing an inadequate job. He was trying to make sure Nobomi was able to have him as the parent she deserved as well as being a good King. Now he feared he may be struggling at both.

“My King, there is one more thing” T’Challa was more than ready for this conversation to be over. He waited for her to continue with less enthusiasm than he once had.

“This is more of a personal check on you if anything. You have not been yourself since your wife passed. And of course we can never expect for you to return to your old self, but your only joy has been your daughter and now that she is going to school, we have noticed your mood has dimmed again. Perhaps if you had someone you could share these emotions with-”

“I have a wife”

“Had. And it may be time for you to start moving on. That child needs a mother figure and you the companionship.” T’Challa was seething. Was she implying he wasn’t enough of a parent for Nobomi? Moreover, how did they expect him to be able to love another even one quarter of the way he loved his wife. How could he give his heart to another when it died with his morning glory.

“I would like you to leave. “

“My King I didn't mean to offend you” T’Challa’s stare was cold and empty of emotion.

“This discussion is over. Thank you, and you can let the other council members know they will be hearing from me about their, suggestion” He declared.

He waited for the door to close behind the mining elders before leaning back and letting this new stress overtake his body. How dare she? How dare they? Could they not see how hard he was trying. How everyday he prayed to Bast for the tranquility of mind so he could continue to do his job. To be here for Nobomi. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself he could give. He wasn’t even sure if he had anymore to give.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Challa slowly moved the little girl off my his body before leaving her bed quietly for the night. He closed the door softly before rejoining Shuri on the couch. His body melted into the couch and he closed his eyes, the stress of the day was still lingering.

“Are you okay brother? Or did Nono ask for sixteen different bedtime stories again” he let out a little chuckle.

“No she is not the reason for my strife. She never is really”

“You say that now until she starts telling you she is going to parties and dating” T’Challa groaned making his sister laugh. “Alright then, what is the issue here”

“I got a visit today from one of the council elders. She was speaking on behalf of the whole council though”

“What about?”

“Apparently, the council would like me to take a new Queen. Mama is getting older and is not as good at the job as she once was. They think it will also help me not feel as though I am doing too much all while giving Nobomi a mother figure.”

“Okay, so what is the issue”

“I don’t need a Queen” T’Challa said slowly.

“You don’t need one, or you don’t want one. Because those are two vastly different things” T’Challa scowled at his younger sister.

“Both, I have been managing fine on my own and there isn’t anything a woman can offer me in my life right now”

“Managing, yes, but not as efficiently as you once were. Also is there nothing a woman can offer you or perhaps nothing another woman can offer you that you haven’t  already received from -”

“Shuri stop.” T’Challa felt his anxiety rising. He didn’t like talking about her so openly. Let alone the thought of replacing her.

“And that right there is the problem, you never want to talk about her, so I am not sure how you expect to heal. Mama and the council may be right” T’Challa turned, taking in Shuri’s words. Was his mother behind this as well.

“Wait, Mama thinks the same thing?” Shuri felt like she had already over shared but her brother’s menacing look let her know she wouldn’t be able to leave without filling in all the holes in the story.

“Well Mama is part of the council so, she definitely gave her opinion. She thinks that you having  a girlfriend of some sorts would be good for you. But first she thinks you need to see a therapist because she is tired of seeing you sad.”

“I am not sad.”

“She also she says you can’t spend all your free time with Nono because that will never mend your heart, and you are spoiling her.” T’Challa was annoyed.

“I guess everyone in this palace has something to say about my parenting, ruling, or love life. It seems all three is the preferred option”

“Brother, I know it hurts but they are not wrong. Mama especially, you have been with Nono since the first day. You fired her nanny when she was only six months old and haven’t been away from her since. You take her on every trip you have and are planning to stop going so you don’t have to be away from her.”

“I am only trying to be a good father” he said exhaustingly

“And that is fine, but you are crippling her and yourself at the same time. Nono can’t go to sleep unless you hold her and ever since her first day at school has gotten closer you have become more of a downer”

“And what is that supposed to mean”

“It means, maybe a little space between the two of you is healthy. She definitely needs the independence and you the chance to find your footing outside of being a father”

“What if I am not ready to reopen that part of my life? What if I am never ready?” He finally said it. It had been boiling in his chest for four years. And although he was being forced to analyse this part of his life, it was something that had to happen.

“Well, you don’t have to announce yourself as the most available bachelor in Birnin Zana. But, it also means you can be more open to the idea.”

“Perhaps” T’Challa said quietly. He turned his head to the television, putting the movie in play.

“Perhaps is a good place to start” Shuri said filling her mouth with popcorn. T’Challa smiled at his younger sister, always amazed at the wisdom she held.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Children ran all around T’Challa and Nobomi. Some were excited for their first day, while the tears of others made it very clear they didn’t want to be anywhere near the school. Nobomi held on to her father’s leg looking around at all the new faces. She was always one to take in her surroundings before joining in. She hadn’t seemed nervous this morning and he still didn’t think she was. He hoped not, because if she cried he wasn’t sure how he would react.

The headmistress rang the first warning bell, which was followed by the kindergarten teachers coming out and waiting for their new classes. T’challa knelt down in front of Nobomi. He smoothed down the two big puffs before making sure her uniform looked okay. He held his hand to her cheek trying to hold his himself together. He didn’t want her to think she couldn’t go and discover new parts of the world by herself.

“Okay Nobomi wam, it is time for you to go into the school now. You are going to have a good time and learn so many new things. Which I can’t wait to hear about later when I pick you up.” he said with a kiss to her hand.

“You promise you will come back for me?”

“I promise with all my heart”  he said rubbing their noses together making her giggle. He would only be picking her up today though. He had gotten a new nanny to pick her up and watch her so he could get more done and feel comfortable going on missions. When he had told her, she cried and it nearly broke him. But after meeting Miss Adanna, Nobomi barely noticed him leave the room.

The second bell rang and T’Challa noticed only one more class was still waiting. He was sure it was Nobomi’s. “Okay Nono, your class is waiting for you. Have fun okay.”

The little girl gave him a big hug and a kiss making him smile. “I love you Baba”

“I love you more” and with that she ran to join the line. He noticed she immediately made friends with another little girl. They held hands as they walking to the building. Nobomi turned once more to wave goodbye to her Baba. T’Challa waved goodbye before catching a singular tear that had fallen.

“Are you okay Kumkani” Okoye asked

“No, but I will be” He said turning to go back to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Love,

To say watching our daughter walk into that school was easy would be a huge lie. It took everything in me to watch her go off and create memories without me. But it had to be done and I am so proud of her.

I know you were watching over her as she navigated this new milestone. A milestone that she is enjoying if I may add. She has even made a new friend. Every story begins with ‘Fatou and me’. She really is a character. Just like you were. Everyday I see more of you in her. And it is for that reason I have to let her be independent. To let her create her own path, just as you would have wanted.

It is going to be hard for me to create a life outside of Nobomi, but I know it is the right thing to do. I am not sure if that will ever include me dating again, and I am not sure if I am ready to find out. My heart  is still so tethered to yours it is hard to tell if it will ever happen.

What I am sure of though is that you wouldn’t have wanted for me to let life pass me by. You always lived everyday to the fullest and I intend to do just that. I have been blessed to be able to love and to have been loved and for that reason I will make sure to thank the ancestors by smiling everyday. It has been hard to do so without you but I know your love continues to guide me and I refuse to let it go wasted.

Yours Forever,

T’Challa

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@writingmarvellousimagines @chaneajoyyy @abrunettefangirlnerd @ashanti-notthesinger @lewatigress @sarcastic-sunshines

[yasuda-yoshiya]

Thoughts on Revolutionary Girl Utena

So, as a first step in my ongoing effort to detox from 800 episodes of card games and expand my anime horizons a little, I've spent the last month or so watching Utena. Wow, what a cool and fascinating series! It honestly felt to me like a really strikingly bold and subversive show even by today's standards, let alone for the time it was made. Having had some time to think on it, here are some tentative thoughts:

While I definitely enjoyed and felt engaged with this show the whole way through, I think the last few episodes were what really pulled it all together for me. Up to that point, I absolutely loved Utena and Anthy as characters and their relationship, and found the general surreal presentation and aesthetics of the show really consistently beautiful and intriguing in a way that made it always feel engaging to watch, but it also felt like a kind of episodic and disjointed show where the various characters' stories didn't really seem to connect with or impact each other in any meaningful way.

But the endgame of the series was where it really took me by surprise in how it went so far beyond what I would have expected! The way the show had been framed up until then, I was basically expecting the big finale to be about Utena definitively making the choice to be Anthy's "prince" and rejecting the role of the "princess" that Akio wanted to push on her - and I would still have really appreciated and admired the show even for that alone, for Utena's gender non-conforming presentation and relationship with Anthy being portrayed so positively in general and for the way her feeling pressured to be more like a "normal girl" was always so explicitly framed as the "wrong choice" by the narrative - but I felt like the show really took things a step further in not just upholding Utena's role as the prince but outright rejecting the prince/princess framework and the hierarchy of the dueling game system altogether. It felt like such a daring ending to me in the way it totally breaks down and reframes the whole premise of the series up to that point, and made me look at a lot of the characters and themes of the series in a whole new light! It honestly made me realise that I'd probably been projecting my expectations of this kind of story on Anthy in much the same way as Utena had, and it made the show end up feeling really intelligent and insightful to me in its willingness not just to overturn gender role expectations on traditional romantic narratives and flip the bird to heteronormativity (which it still absolutely does, and does very well), but also to really question and criticise the assumptions behind those narratives on a fundamental level.

And the more I think about the series since then, the more I feel like so much of the series' broader imagery and themes really clicks for me in that light? The whole system of dueling over the Rose Bride feels like a very apt metaphor for the way so much of mainstream society and media does present romantic love, as a struggle to "win" your ideal partner as proof of your self-worth and as a magic cure for all your personal unhappiness and insecurities, as a sort of contest where the “losers” who can’t “get” a partner look up at the “winners” with envy and resentment - and the way Akio ultimately pulls back the curtain on that system to reveal that the ideal castle that all those people were fighting to reach was just a false image he was projecting to them to serve his own ends, that their attempts to escape their insecurities and "revolutionise the world" through winning the duels were really just upholding and reinforcing the status quo, felt really powerful to me. While I was watching the show, a lot of the side characters and their subplots had sort of frustrated me at times with their frequent emphasis on unrequited love stories that felt really obviously shallow and unhealthy, but I felt like the last few episodes really successfully reframed a lot of that to me as a remarkably perceptive commentary on just how much those kinds of empty romantic ideals and societal conventions can constrain people and warp their individual potential on a systematic scale.

In that sense, I feel like I can really appreciate the show's portrayal of how even fundamentally decent people like Miki and Saionji can be warped by the system into people willing to objectify Anthy and fight to possess her as a way of alleviating their own insecurities, even when they wouldn't have been naturally inclined to be that kind of person, through the pressure of the people around them accepting it as the norm and the false promise of the ideal happiness waiting on the other side. How people like Wakaba and Keiko can be made to believe that happiness is impossible for them and to resent the people around them for "stealing their happiness away", because everything around them has led them to the subconscious belief that the only "happiness" out there is being noticed by a popular guy like Touga or Saionji. Even Utena, the one who most explicitly rejects the dueling system and specifically sets out to treat Anthy as a real person with her own autonomy, still ends up unconsciously projecting her own ideals on her and playing into the established system in the ways she goes about being her "prince", because the influence of those flawed ideals and norms is so deep and pervasive that it's almost impossible not to internalise some of it.

It feels like something I can definitely relate to as someone who absolutely did buy into a lot of that crap as a teenager and seriously hurt other people as a result - and while I did eventually manage to break out and see the toxicity of the system for what it was, it's also horribly easy for me to see how easy it must be for people to stay constrained by it and live out their whole lives without "breaking the world's shell", without even realising how the toxic assumptions they've inherited from "the world" are killing them and distorting the ways they interact with other people - how their attempts at escaping from their insecurities are hurting themselves and others, and ultimately just perpetuating the same system that's strangling them. Akio is a horrifying villain because the ways he insidiously manipulates and influences the people around him feel absolutely real - he's able to play to people's vulnerabilities and unexamined assumptions, to make them follow along with his script while keeping them always genuinely believing that they're making their own independent decisions and fighting for their own happiness and fulfilment. It's very hard to fight something that embeds itself on such a deep and unconscious level in people's basic assumptions and frameworks for viewing themselves and the world, where people don’t even see the ways it’s influencing them.

But I think Utena's ending feels very honest and hopeful in acknowledging that, while the system can't really be defeated or destroyed by individual people in any meaningful way, what people CAN do is make the decision to step outside it and not allow it to have power over them - and, hopefully, to inspire other people to be able to make that choice for themselves too. That part towards the end of the film where the other student council members came to the rescue and helped Utena and Anthy escape, wishing them well in the outside world - "We still haven't found our own way out yet, but we'll definitely get there some day" - honestly made me tear up a little! It really communicated a strong sense of hope to me in the idea that these kids might have made a lot of mistakes and still have a lot of growing up to do, but it's still possible for them to break free from Ohtori and everything it represents the same way Utena and Anthy did - that the present doesn't have to keep following the way of the past. It’s still possible for the next generation to escape it and leave it behind. The whole imagery around the film's ending - "it may be a world without roads, but we can build them" - felt really uplifting and beautiful to me as well; as ridiculously bizarre and surreal as the film was in a lot of ways, it felt like it capped off the series' themes really nicely.

All in all, I ended up feeling really fulfilled and satisfied with this show! It feels like a very deliberate series that's extremely conscious of everything it wants to do, and generally executes it well. I would say I probably didn’t really connect with a lot of the individual character arcs on a particularly deep level - Juri's resolution with that one guy who popped in completely out of nowhere felt particularly odd to me, and I wasn't a huge fan of Nanami or Touga either - but I think it really nailed the bigger picture in terms of its thematic project and the ideas it wanted to convey, and on the whole I feel like I just have a huge amount of respect for the things it had to say and the way it went about saying them. The whole imagery of the setting with the school as an isolated, self-contained world with its inhabitants unknowingly being overseen and controlled by Akio from his tower as "the highest place in this world" really feels like such a strong and vivid metaphor to me, and I honestly felt really impressed with just how perceptively and accurately the show manages to portray the subtleties of the various ways social and patriarchal pressures really do operate on people (and on young teenagers who are still figuring out how love and relationships work in particular). It's weird to say about such a surreal and often goofy series, but I honestly feel like I haven't seen a story that approaches those kinds of subjects with this kind of clarity, and I feel like this show's framework has honestly helped me to reexamine and better understand a lot of my own messy teenage experiences as well. Definitely a show whose whole feels like more than the sum of its parts for me, I think, and one that I expect is going to stick with me for quite some time!

[porkchop-ao3]

Closing The Deal

This is a follow up to @hoodoo12‘s amazing story The Old College Try, and it follows what happened between Tailor Rick and Rick Prime after they left the bar that night. Obviously it’s NSFW hehe, it has a lot of banter, perhaps this wasn’t what Tailor had been expecting when he decided to chase Prime...

- 

Tailor had been slowly buttering Rick Prime up over the few weeks he'd been working for the Council. He hadn't been overtly flirting with him at all, but he'd been planting subtle seeds, playing the long game, waiting for him to start responding. A subtle touch here, a flirtatious smile there, the odd suggestive remark. It had been working, Prime had been reciprocating, touching him back, leaning in close to speak, complimenting him in increasingly personal ways.

Tailor knew it was the time to strike, and everything had fallen into place that night in that bar. He'd put up with the barmaid flirting with him the entire evening, she'd plied him with enough Dutch courage to finally close the deal with Prime. When he spotted him alone, he made his move, letting the alcohol on his tongue bring out his flirtatious charisma. With a hand on Prime's lower back (and occasionally even lower), he talked him into flirtatious banter. He was looking sharp in the suit Tailor had made for him, but all that was on Tailor's mind was getting him out of it. Soon. He needed it, what with the whole situation he'd had with that SEAL team Rick. Prime would be something fresh, and this time, Tailor would make sure it went his way.

“Looks like it's dying in here. I imagine this place is winding down for the night, h-how'd you like to come back to mine for another drink?” Prime had asked him. Tailor couldn't keep the smile from his face; he'd been gearing up to invite him over, how thrilling that he didn't need to.

“I’d very much like that. Do you have to tell the other Council members where you're going? We don't want them worrying where their newest member has wandered off to,” Tailor teased. He liked to tease him. Prime was indeed the newest appointed member of the Council of Ricks, and while Tailor didn't actually think any less of him for it, he liked to see Prime's cheeks go pink.

“No, not unless you'd like to kiss their asses goodbye before we leave,” he quipped back without missing a beat. Tailor jolted, but otherwise did not react. “Come on,” Prime smirked, heading towards the exit. Tailor followed, an amused smile crossing his lips. This would be fun.

Once outside, Prime pulled out his portal gun and turned the dial. He opened up the portal against the side of the bar, and with a salacious smile on his face, waved Tailor through first. He stepped out into a rather opulent looking home. It was typical of the Citadel's architecture, lots of gold and white, lots of glossy surfaces, lots of frankly ugly attempts at a futuristic style. Tailor didn't turn his nose up, though, he was in Rick Prime's home; that was a pretty big deal. The Council's homes were elusive, most Ricks didn't even know where they were let alone what they looked like. Tailor felt his chest inflate a little at the idea.

“What would you like to drink?” Prime asked as he stepped through, walking straight past him towards a bar, stocked full of all kinds of alcohol; some of Earth, some not.

“Oh, so you really thought we were coming here for a drink?” Tailor questioned, a thrumming kind of confidence was passing through him now, he was getting what he wanted sooner rather than later. Prime paused a few steps shy of the bar, then turned to smirk at Tailor.

“Of course not, but it'd be impolite not to offer,” he retreated, coming right back towards him. Tailor thought he was getting a kiss, was about to close his eyes in preparation, but no. Prime was pulling his jacket off for him, gently sliding it off his arms. He didn't pull on it roughly like a lot of Rick's would; spending time with him beforehand, he'd learned Tailor's prissiness when it came to his suits. “Allow me to hang this up for you.”

Tailor watched as he carried off his jacket, pressing a button on a nearby wall. It opened up a pair of sliding doors that he hadn't noticed before since they blended into the wall. Tailor raised a brow as he hung it up, there was a hissing sound as mist clouded the opening in the wall, then the doors shut. Not wanting to sound like an idiot, Tailor kept his mouth shut; but he couldn't deny his concern. What the hell was happening to his jacket in there?

“Don't worry, it's just freshening it up. Not that it needs it, mind, the cloakroom simply does that automatically.” Prime told him.

“Impressive.” Tailor said monotonously, eyes focused on the space where the doors had been. He approached it, running his hand over the wall. There was an almost indistinguishable seam, you'd never realise there was anything amiss about the wall.

Prime laughed quietly through his nose at his distraction, taking his wrist in his hand and gently turning him around, backing him up against the wall. Tailor was stunned for a moment, unable to do anything but stare at him. He was suddenly very close and Tailor's heart was pounding. Prime leaned in, his lips hovering close to his for a few long seconds; Tailor's pants were tightening already and he would've been embarrassed at his body's own reaction if he didn't want it so badly. He was in dire need of a good fucking.

“I bet this is exciting for you, huh? Hooking up with a Council member?” Prime purred, slotting a leg between Tailor's as he pushed him more firmly against the wall. Tailor grunted, his hips jolting as the thigh made contact with his hardening cock. “I heard you like Ricks in high places, you've got a little reputation.”

“I'm sorry? Who told you that?” Tailor cocked a brow, squeezing his legs together around Prime's thigh, almost as a kind of warning.

“A little birdie.”

“A little birdie, huh? Was it Riq?” Tailor guessed drily, his eyelids lowering, unimpressed. Prime chuckled, glancing down at Tailor's chest. “I can't say I'm surprised.”

“Perhaps I should be flattered that you picked me.”

“Picked? Darling, I'm simply working my way up,” Tailor retorted, though embarrassingly his hips rolled of their own accord, grinding his cock against Prime's leg. “I thought I'd start with the Council's intern before trying my luck with the rest of them.”

A flash of shock passed over Prime's face before it was swiftly replaced with amusement. He hummed quietly, shifting his leg to make Tailor gasp and squirm.

“I'm confident you won't want to bother with the rest of them once you've had me.”

Ignoring that, Tailor continued. “Plus, time is of the essence with you; you're only there for the summer, right? Until they find someone permanent to make the tea.”

Prime chuckled, licking his lips. His tongue was so close to Tailor's mouth, it brushed against his top lip just slightly.

“You like that, don't you? Running your mouth.”

“My mouth performs many tasks, running is not one of them. I'm simply making conversation.”

“You wanna get on your knees and make conversation with something else?”

“I don't get on my knees for just anyone, you know.”

“I thought you liked sucking dick? That's what you told Riq that night in the bar.”

Christ. He wasn't wrong. He and Riq had become something resembling friends over the course of the time he was working for them; and he vaguely remembered a rather frank conversation he'd had with him on one of their outings. He'd drank enough not to think things through, and when the conversation turned to sex (which it so often did when it came to Ricks), Tailor had been far too open. He wasn't aware that anyone else had overheard, but then again, Riq was a gobby little shit and Tailor wouldn't be surprised if he'd been gossiping.

“Oh, I do,” Tailor took it in his stride, owning it. “Doing it on my knees is a different matter; that's reserved for cock I really want.”

“If that's the case, I can lay you down on your back and slide down your throat in bed, how does that sound?”

“Horrific.”

Prime laughed at his bluntness, licking his lips again. This time, he followed it up with a kiss. Finally! Tailor moaned into it, tilting his head. Their mouths opened, and there was a clash of tongues and lots of heavy breathing in a matter of moments. Prime's hips shifted forwards, and Tailor felt his erection against his upper thigh. He ground against him, and both men moved in tandem, rubbing their cocks up against each other's bodies unabashedly. Prime broke the kiss, out of breath and losing some of the smug attitude he'd had going on.

“Lucky for you, I don't mind getting on my knees,” he whispered, grinning then sliding down Tailor's body, settling on the floor between his legs. Tailor made an odd sound; one he didn't control, and his arms moved to press against the wall behind him for support. He looked down and watched as his belt was unbuckled, fly unzipped, and cock pulled out. Prime didn't waste any time, he immediately engulfed him, bobbing enthusiastically on his length, hands holding onto the back of his thighs. Tailor's legs threatened to buckle, and he leaned his entire weight back against the wall as he groaned loudly, tilting his head back to stare at the golden, intricately carved ceiling. Prime was seriously putting his neck into it, slurping and taking him real deep, he looked like something out of a gay porn film… not that Tailor ever watched porn, of course…

“Jesus Christ, s-slow down!” He gasped, his eyes squeezing shut; it was all rather overwhelming.

“Struggling to ke-keep up?” Prime questioned, pulling back and dragging his hand over his mouth.

“No, I'm just worried you're going to take a chunk out of my cock if you're not careful.” Tailor lied, relieved at the loss of stimulation; he'd never live it down if he came within the first two minutes of entering the damn house.

“I'm well practised,” Prime winked, taking him back into his mouth, blowing him a little slower this time. It was still intense, but Tailor could handle it. He arched his back, sighing softly over and over, making small, pleased sounds.

He reached a hand down, his fingers slipping through the curls on Prime's head. Despite being meticulously styled, they felt soft to the touch. Tailor held onto his head as he sucked him, he didn't force anything but he kept his hand there as a subconscious reminder that he was in charge. He looked down when Prime put on a show with his tongue, dragging it up and down the sides of his length while holding it at the base. He tilted his head this way and that, moaning quietly, staring into his eyes with sultry lowered lids. He really did look like a porn star. Tailor winced and pulled his head off his cock, porn stars who sucked cock like that often ended up bottoming (just a guess, of course, he never watched porn). Tailor didn't want to give him the wrong impression, he wasn't up for that.

“Which piece of ugly furniture am I bending over?” He asked, raising his eyes to scan the room. He comfortably altered the mood just like that; Tailor liked being in charge, but not like that. Prime chuckled, rising to his feet.

“I thought you were trying to get me in that position,” he said. Tailor had made the right move.

“Not at all.”

“You sure, baby? I could go either way,” he grinned, sliding his hand up and down Tailor's chest.

“I'm sure. And don't call me baby,” Tailor narrowed his eyes, slipping out from between him and the wall and strolling out into the room, holding his pants up at the waist, cock still jutting out.

“Bend over the bar for me, it's the perfect height for fucking Ricks.”

“Slut,” Tailor muttered, approaching the bar. Instead of bending over it like instructed, he leaned against it.

“Look at you, standing there all coy with your pants up like you've just been caught jerking off,” Prime laughed, closing the gap between them and reaching for Tailor's tie; he loosened it and slipped it off, taking a second to pull it taut between his hands. “Strong enough to hold a knot?”

“Don't even think about it,” Tailor took it from him and placed it on the bar. His trousers dropped to his ankles, but he made no effort to catch them

“You’re right, it'll keep coming undone; silky fabric,” Prime smirked, gaining an eye roll. He unbuttoned Tailor's shirt, slipping it off and letting it lie on the bar behind him.

“You going to hang up your jacket in your fancy cupboard?” Tailor asked as he began to undress Prime, carefully unbuttoning it and removing it.

“That'd mean walking over there,” he shook his head, then unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head. Tailor winced a little, but tried to ignore it. Soon enough, all of their clothes were laying across the bar next to them, their shoes discarded on the floor. They were left only in their underwear, that's when they became distracted with stroking each others cocks. Tailor hadn't taken Prime's cock out of his briefs yet, he was rubbing it through the fabric. He didn't get a chance to either, because he was suddenly being spun around and bent over; Prime's hips butted up to his ass and ground against him, and he felt his briefs being pulled down slowly, trapped between their bodies though he was still able to remove them.

“At some point I'm gonna need to go upstairs and get some lube,” Prime told him breathlessly, grabbing handfuls of Tailor's ass and kneading.

“I have some, it-it's in my trouser pocket. It's just a little bottle but it'll be enough,” Tailor breathed, pressing his ass back against Prime's cock unconsciously. He didn't miss the cocky chuckle behind him.

“You came prepared, hm?”

“Well, I like to be ready for any eventuality,” he bluffed.

“You certainly don't seem the type of Rick to carry around a bottle of lube on their person at all time. You planned for this, didn't you?” Prime called him out with a smugness that made Tailor clench his jaw.

“Of course I bloody did, I'm a man who knows what he wants and makes it happen. You can't knock me for that, I certainly made this happen, didn't I?”

Prime laughed and bent down over Tailor, leaning to whisper in his ear; “slut.”

Tailor didn't react, but his blood bubbled under his skin and he swore he was about to shatter his teeth with how hard his jaw was clenching. Prime reached to the side and found the bottle of lube in Tailor's trouser pocket.

“I'm not going to find a plug peeking out at me back here, am I? Jus-just how prepared are you?”

“See for yourself,” Tailor rolled his eyes dramatically, about ready to swallow all his reservations and bend this guy over instead, knock him down a peg. He felt his ass cheeks being spread, then heard the other man groan. His cock jumped.

“Hmm, no plug,” the click of cap on the lube could be heard. “That means I get to loosen up this bad boy myself.”

“Did you just refer to my arse as, 'bad boy’?”

“What would you prefer, this pretty pink hole? Mm, do you bleach?” Prime mused, Tailor couldn't get his reaction out in time before he was gasping at the cool sensation of a lubed finger rubbing over his asshole.

“Fuck,” he sighed, locking his arms straight and pushing himself more upright against the bar. He parted his legs wider, and Prime breached, pushing to his first knuckle and pumping in and out slowly.

Times like these, Tailor had to appreciate the simple things in life; like a single finger up the arse. Neat and tidy pleasure, not a lick of pain yet, just clean, good fun. Not that he protested, though, when a second finger was entering him, being scissored. A five star massage for his inner walls. He groaned and submitted – for now – and leaned further over the bar, laying on his chest.

“God, that's nice. That's gonna feel so fucking good around my cock,” Prime was commentating the whole thing behind him, and Tailor was trying his best to ignore it. The fingers in his ass brushed his prostate and he grunted, bucking against the bar. “Fuck yeah. You love that, don't you? You little slut.”

“You'd be wise to watch your mouth,” Tailor warned. Prime was massaging his prostate now and he was struggling to keep his voice level.

“What, aren't you a slut?” Prime questioned, then brought his free hand down on Tailor's ass firmly. That was it; after reining in the embarrassing sound that came out of his mouth, Tailor moved, spinning around to face him, catching himself on the bar behind him and flashing a death glare at Prime.

He was mortified, of course, when he realised that his face was being ignored in favour of his cock. He followed Prime's gaze down to it, and the steady stream of precum hanging from the tip. Christ. Prime gathered some with his finger and licked it away.

“Pick a spot and lie down.” Tailor commanded, his tone denying any opportunity for questions. Prime smirked, pulled his briefs down and let them drop to the floor, then stepped out of them and turned his back on Tailor.

Prime knew he could give as much lip as he wanted and Tailor wouldn't leave; he wanted him too badly. He hadn't been oblivious to the guy's advances, the special attention he got when the Council were being measured up for the suits. No lie, he'd been hoping to be getting the dick rather than supplying it, but he wasn't a picky man. Though, perhaps he'd try twisting Tailor's arm for a round two. He planted the seeds though, hoping Tailor would be paying attention to his ass as he walked away from him.

He settled on the chaise lounge by the fireplace, laying across it and looking over at Tailor expectantly. He approached him, letting his eyes roll over Prime's body from head to toe, lingering momentarily on his cock standing upright, ready for him to impale himself on. He'd had enough banter, now he wanted this to happen, and to happen on his terms.

Tailor lifted a leg and swung it over as if he was climbing onto a bike. Prime had gone quiet, he merely watched and brought a hand to Tailor's lower back as he settled into position with his back to him. Tailor didn't want eye contact tonight, he wanted fun, easy pleasure; absolutely no room for any kind of emotional exchange. When Prime brought his fingers to his ass again, preparing to continue where he left off, Tailor hissed at him impatiently.

“I've had enough of that. Lube up your cock.”

Prime didn't argue, taking the lube from Tailor's hand stretching back towards him. He poured some onto his cock, almost the remainder of the small bottle, and jerked himself a number of times to spread the stuff evenly. Tailor didn't let him get carried away, reaching between his legs to replace his hand, holding Prime's cock steady as he lowered himself onto it. He felt the burn immediately, he hadn't had a lot of prep but he was a big boy, he could handle it. Besides, he'd never say it aloud but he quite liked the burn. He bit down on his lip and made himself take more, pushing himself down until he'd taken all he could, then he let out a heavy breath and curled his toes either side of Prime's body.

“Goddamn, your ass feels tight,” Prime told him through clenched teeth, his fingertips pressing into Tailor's lower back. His nails weren't long enough to do any damage, though, so Tailor allowed it. His other hand went to his upper back, stroking up and down shakily. “Fuck.”

“Are you okay back there? You're doing a lot of panting,” Tailor questioned in a snotty, teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine,” Prime muttered, and Tailor smirked. He slowly moved upwards, savouring the sensation of Prime's cock sliding out of him, hearing a low, long moan come from the man behind him. When it felt as though his cock was in danger of slipping out completely, Tailor slid back down, riding Prime at a slow pace so that he could warm himself up to the sensations.

He wasn't patient, though, so sooner rather than later Tailor was picking up the pace, bracing his hands on Prime's legs and bouncing his hips up and down. Prime groaned loudly behind him, his hands drifting all over Tailor's body, feeling the sharpness of his hips, the softness of his waist, the ridges of his spine. Without being able to see Tailor's face he let his hands do the looking, dropping his head back against the chair and closing his eyes.

Tailor moved faster, until there was a clapping sound as his ass hit Prime's hips each time. He let out a low rumble of pleasure from the back of his throat, tightening his grip on the other Rick's legs as he angled his hips to hit his prostate with each downward motion. His cock was dripping precum onto the chaise lounge, but that wasn't his problem. Prime cursed and sat up on his elbows to watch him move, panting heavily, his legs and toes fidgeting.

“Fuck, that's it, bounce on that cock for me,” he growled filthily, biting down on his bottom lip and grunting in satisfaction.

“Christ, who d'you think you're speaking to?” Tailor groused through heavy breaths, glancing over his shoulder. Prime chuckled.

“But you're doing such a good job, look at this perfect round ass. Lemme give you praise,” Prime grabbed Tailor's ass with both hands, squeezing and parting his cheeks and groaning deeply. Tailor slowed, subconsciously giving him something to look at by doing a few drawn out thrusts, better focusing on the sweet push and pull of his cock. “That's it, holy shit…”

Prime slipped his thumb between Tailor's cheeks, brushing it back and forth over the stretched skin right above his filled opening; watching (and feeling) as his ass clenched a number of times in response. He grinned as Tailor moaned, his toes curling and uncurling again. One of Tailor's hands left his leg, then Prime saw his shoulder moving rhythmically and heard the unmistakable sound of someone jacking off. He licked his lips and leaned back on his elbows, shifting so that he could rock up into him hard and fast.

“You gonna cum for me?” Prime asked.

“For you?” Tailor scoffed, as though it was a dirty phrase.

“Mm, I wanna feel your ass squeezing around my cock when you do, baby.”

“You want me to rip your tongue clean out of your head?”

“Mmm, if you wanna get rough, baby, get rough,” Prime's hand came down on Tailor's ass cheek again, like earlier, though it wasn't as hard. Tailor gasped and jolted forward, almost dislodging the cock in his ass. “Do you like that? Tell me honestly if you like that,” Prime was speaking through gritted teeth now.

He would if it was someone else doing it, Tailor thought, someone he'd been fucking for more than five minutes. Someone he trusted a little more. An image of a face came to mind, with spiky hair with bleached tips, but he brushed it away; he didn't like thinking of him while he was otherwise engaged.

“I don't. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself unless you'd enjoy having to pop your fingers back into their sockets,” Tailor warned, though his voice was shaky because he could feel himself getting close. He didn't try to slow himself down, he kind of wanted this over with. He was bored of the back-chatting.

“You don't know what I'm into,” Prime purred, though it was clearly a joke.

“Christ, you're annoying. Be quiet and ma-make me cum.”

“You're demanding. I kind of like that about you, Tailor.”

Tailor rolled his eyes, then closed them, focusing on the sensation of his prostate being struck over and over. He tightened his fist around his cock, pulling the foreskin over the head quickly in time with Prime's movements. He could hear him moaning more intensely, reaching the edge of his climax and Tailor enjoyed that sound, a lot of Ricks sounded similar when they moaned and so he could convince himself he was fucking someone else if things weren't going how he expected. That was the bonus to having multiple partners who were intrinsically the same person.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Mm, are you ready? Fuuuck,” Prime groaned, his thrusts going a little sloppy. Tailor felt him reach his peak first, he could feel himself being filled with a heavy load of cum, spurt by spurt as loud grunts and groans sounded out behind him. Tailor's breath caught in his throat and he climaxed too. He let go of his cock and let the prostate stimulation do the work, then he was spurting ropes of cum in a long stripe between Prime's legs, all over the chaise lounge. It was quite impressive really, the range he got on it, almost reaching Prime's feet. Tailor's moans died down to soft mewls as the last few sparks of his orgasm sent thinner rivulets of cum down his shaft. He'd made quite the mess.

He wasn't completely satisfied with that, though, and he slowly raised his hips, pulling off of Prime's cock and letting his cum drip out onto him. He supposed he wondered what he'd say about that, if he'd be pissed. Prime didn't seem to care though, giving a quiet moan and collapsing back against the chair. Ricks never really seemed to care about that sort of thing; the messy aftermath of coitus. Once he was sure he wasn't going to dirty his underwear when he got dressed, Tailor climbed off of Prime and immediately headed for his pile of clothes on the bar without a word. He heard Prime move to sit up and sensed him watching him.

“Getting dressed so soon?” He asked. Tailor nodded as he found his briefs and pulled them on.

“My time is precious,” he mused, going for his trousers. “Will you fetch my jacket?”

Prime got up with a sigh and went to the hidden closet, retrieving it. He held onto it whilst Tailor put the rest of his clothes on.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asked.

“The sex? Yes, though I'm sorry about your chaise lounge,” Tailor answered curtly.

Prime shrugged, “It's had worse on it.”

“I won't ask.”

“Even for a Rick, you're real eager to get out of here,” Prime noted, handing him his jacket and watching him slip it on. Tailor noted that it smelled like sandalwood after being in that closet, and it felt freshly pressed. Perhaps he'd have to look into getting one of those things in his own house.

“Don't take it personally, I don't enjoy hanging around once things are said and done,” Tailor explained, crossing his arms and looking at Prime; who was still standing totally naked with his own cum on his lower abdomen, he didn't seem too concerned about that.

“Listen, if you wanna do this again, I-I want you to top me,” he admitted, he just came right out and said it, a little smile tugging at his lips. Tailor raised his brows in surprise.

“As a rule, I don't do that.”

“I don't get as mouthy with a cock in my ass, you might like me more,”

“And you're worried about me liking you, because?” One of Tailor's brows dropped and he gave him a funny look.

“Oh, I'm not. I'm just saying, I th-think you'd give it to me exactly how I need it,” he purred stepping forwards into Tailor's space, his hand going to his own flaccid cock and idly playing with it. He looked as though he was coming for a kiss, and Tailor let him, standing still as the other man kissed his way up his neck.

“What makes you think that?”

“You're full of questions,” Prime muttered, his free hand sliding up Tailor's chest. “Think about it, give me a call when you wanna see how different I can be on the receiving end.”

“I won't need long to think about it,” Tailor told him drily and Prime laughed.

“Well, the offer is there.”

He got a little too close for Tailor's liking, covered in ejaculate, and he pushed him away by his shoulder to inspect his suit. He was clean, thankfully. Prime had an unhidden look of disappointment on his face, he'd given himself a semi and even Tailor was surprised at how fast he'd managed to get that after cumming. He wasn't ashamed to admit that most of the time, once he was done, he was done. Though, he knew Ricks had a tendency to stick things in their bodies to make them better, maybe he had some sort of microchip in his cock to cut out the refractory period, who knew?

“Thanks for being such a great host,” Tailor teased, retrieving his portal gun. “But I best be off.”

“You still coming out for drinks with us next week?” Prime asked.

“Of course.”

“Which Council member you going for next? Riq?” Prime smirked, obviously teasing him based on his comment about working his way up the Council.

“Christ, no.”

“I'm surprised, I thought you liked him.”

“Oh, he's alright. Though why would I jump right from the intern to the head of the Council? I believe Max is next up on the payroll.” Tailor grinned, playing his game.

“Oh, he's not gonna like this kind of talk,” he wagged his finger back and forth between them. “There’s a tip for you.”

“Fragile ego, hmm?”

“A little.”

They fell silent after some quiet laughter. Right before it could start to feel awkward, Tailor set his portal gun for his home dimension, and fired it at the wall.

“See you at the bar next week,” he gave him a courteous nod, and headed towards the portal. He heard Prime say his goodbyes just in time before the portal closed behind him.

As soon as he was alone in his bedroom, he had this gnawing feeling in his stomach. Tailor didn't mind being alone – in fact he enjoyed it – but sometimes he'd get into a certain mood, and he wouldn't be able to stand it. Should he have stayed a little longer with Prime? Had that drink with him?

Nah.

It was late but he knew he'd still be up, so he texted Hairstylist Rick. Would you like to come over and order a takeaway? Of course he would.

[christabellanikolai]

Winter’s End, Chapter 2

Dany, My story isn’t the one that needs to be told, it is yours.

Archive of Our Own Link 

“It arrived late last night from the Citadel,” said Samwell Tarly as he sat at the small council table in Kings Landing. Upon Queen Daenerys order, he was made Maester of the Red Keep, even without finishing his training at the Citadel. She had explained how he had proven his worth and abilities during the war against both the Army of the Dead and Cersei. Though, she still provided him with books to continue to study and learn to obtain the full title of Grand Maester.

In the center of the table sat a cage, a white raven perched in the center. Daenerys had never seen one the color of white before. She found herself staring at it carefully before finally speaking. “What does this mean?”

“Well your grace it means that the conclave has met and declared this winter to be over,” replied Sam.

“How do they know this for sure?” she asked, her hand Tyrion spoke before Sam could answer. “Those within conclave meet and discuss reports from Maesters all throughout Westeros.”

“What is in these reports?” asked Daenerys

“Information about how much the snows are melting, the amount of sunlight, and temperature changes.” answered Sam “For example, I have observed no new snowfall within the last month, and it appears the snows on the roofs have also completely disappeared.”

“Aye, I saw you trip over that seller's cart in the square just the other day while looking up at the roofs.” laughed Davos. “I thought the man was going to hit you with one of those decorative sticks he is always trying to sell.” After Jon’s death, Davos had remained loyal to the remaining members of House Stark who in turn swore allegiance to Daenerys and helped her to take Kings Landing. Upon her orders, he now worked to rebuild and improve the lives of those who lived in his former home of Flea Bottom while serving on her small council as the Master of Law.

“He would if Unsullied were not around,” said Greyworm, her Lord Commander of the Queensguard.

Sam’s face was becoming red, the Queen must have sensed his embarrassment as she directed to conversation back to the topic of the end of winter. “Send Ravens to each of the great houses immediately, I want to review these reports myself before I make my confirmation of the conclave’s decision to the public.”

“Yes your grace,” said Sam as he noted the task on a piece of parchment.

“Before you send those though I want you to send one to Castle Black.” said the Queen “Now that Winter is over I want the Lord Commander to order a search party travel beyond the wall.”

“Aye to check on those who may still be living beyond the wall?” asked Sam

“No, I want them to recover the body of my husband.” the room fell silent as a sadness hung in the air. Sam dropping his quill with a shaking hand.

“My Queen, may I ask why you want such thing?” asked Davos

“You of all people know he deserves a proper burial in the crypts of Winterfell.” said Daenerys “He should be with his Father and Brothers, not alone Beyond the Wall. Thank the gods that the crypts remained untouched during the destruction.”

“Samwell if you would like I could put together that request,” said Jorah, though injured in the war with Cersei, he remained in service to Daenerys as one of her closest advisors and friends. He often felt protective of Sam and could see the death of Jon still caused him pain.

“No, no I can put it together,” said Sam clearly fighting back the tears. “If they do find him, what shall I ask they do with his remains.”

“They will return with his body to Castle Black where I will fly myself to see it with Drogon and Rhaegal.” Said Daenerys her voice also shaking with sadness. “I will watch as it is burned, and Rhaegal will bring his ashes to Winterfell, where they will be placed in a tomb. We can all agree that he deserves to rest with the members of his family.”

“Yes your grace,” said Sam before abruptly rising to his feet and gathering his things before leaving the small council chambers. “If you would please excuse me, I have many ravens to prepare.”

“The other important matter at hand is the wedding of Arya Stark to Gendry Baratheon,” said Daenerys before any further discussion of Jon could continue. “Where are we with the preparations?”

“It would appear that the young wolf wants to be married in the dragon the pit.” said Tyrion “Gendry’s letter indicated no objections, so we have already begun to build the altar.”

“A wolf marrying a stag in a dragon pit.” said Varys who remained Daenery’s Master of Whispers “I must say this will be quite a sight.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” said Daenerys “The pits should no longer be a place of death but one of celebration. It began with my coronation and will continue with their wedding.”

“People have already begun to arrive for the wedding. Arya and Gendry should be here any day now as well.” said Missandei “I have made sure that the guest chambers continued to be prepared.”

“Thank you Missandei, speaking of the guests one arrived last night,” said Daenerys as she rose from the table, Missandei following close behind. “If you would please excuse me, it is time I personally greet them.”

As the two women made there way out of the hall toward the gardens, they were interrupted by the sound of a door flying opened, followed by the sound of small steps as they ran toward them through the stone hallway. “Aegon no!” said one of the Dothraki handmaidens “You must stay here.”

“Mother!” shouted the small child as he ran toward Daenerys. Daenerys quickly scooped the child into her arms, placing kisses upon his cheek and mussing his blonde curly hair. Aegon was born shortly before she had taken Kings Landing. Named after his father, the child was now her world, her miracle.

“Hello my love,” she whispered as the child buried his face into her neck. “I have to greet some of the guests who have come for your Aunt Arya’s wedding. What you like to come with me?”

“Yes Mother,” said Aegon. Daenerys nodded toward the handmaiden, excusing her for the moment. Missandei reached toward Aegon, who in turn gripped onto his mother tighter, pushing her long blonde hair over himself as he buried his face deeper into her neck and shoulder. This was something he always did whenever he was refused to leave his Mother’s arms. Daenerys was always happy to oblige.

She had learned she was with child shortly after Jon had ridden off to that final battle. Missandei had recognized it one morning as she had helped the Queen into her armor. To this day the thought that Jon had died never knowing how much he had truly given her filled her with sadness.

“It is it really him?.... Maybe the white walkers have returned?.... I say he is an imposter, the Lord Commander should hang him for such a crime….If he is an imposter, he is a damn good one….The Queen should take him, use her dragons to burn him alive.”

“Jon…Jon...Jon” He recognized that voice. The air around smelled of salt, no seawater as his shoulder was grasped and he was shaken awake. “Jon, is it really you?” The last time he had heard this voice was in the throne room at Dragonstone. Back then his voice was broken, defeated, seeking forgiveness. Now it was filled with confidence, such he had last heard just beyond the gates of Winterfell “The runt of the litter, that ones yours Snow.” “Wake up Snow!”

“Theon…?” His vision was blurry, but even so, he could still see the unmistakable image of Theon Greyjoy. A man had grown up with his family, only to later betray them. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” said Theon as he handed Jon a cup of ale before pouring one for himself. “I didn’t believe those boys when they came running off the lift. They were so terrified they left you lying in it. At first, I thought they had finally found your dead body, that it had been lying on top of the wall this whole time.”

“They said it’s been five years…” said Jon before taking a swig of ale, almost drinking the entire cup.

“Aye, five years since you killed the Night King. The whole country thought you were dead. I guess we were wrong.”

“I don’t understand, the last thing I remember was killing the Night King, and then there is nothing, nothing at all,” said Jon, shivers running down his spine. “None of this makes any sense.”

“You are telling me Snow...or no, it really is Stark, no Targaryen.” laughed Theon “Shall I call you Jon or Aegon?”

“You seem almost cocky since the last time we spoke.” said Jon, smiling for the first time since he returned.

“There is much to share with you, Right now I am just glad you are here,” said Theon “Your wife is Queen now, guess that makes you the King.”

“What happened? Tell me how she took Kings Landing,” asked Jon

“I wasn’t there, but you can speak to someone who was.” Just outside the room, they could hear footsteps approaching. Jon watched Theon cracked opened the door exchanging whispers just before he held open the door. Stepping inside was someone Jon never expected to see at Castle Black. “My King may I present to you the 1000th Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, Jaime Lannister.”

Surprising both of them, Jon began to laugh, unable to hide his surprise and feeling of irony. The first time he ever met Jaime was before leaving for the Nights Watch at Winterfell. “I am sure it will be thrilling to serve in such an elite force” Back then a blind man would have seen the sarcasm written across his face.

While Theon looked utterly confused, Jaime smirked. He too remembered his first conversation with Jon in the courtyard of Winterfell. This reaction was all Jaime needed to confirm that it really was, in fact, Jon Snow sitting before him. Pouring himself a cup of ale he finally spoke. “Well, it’s only for life.”

“You’re the Lord Commander now…” laughed Jon.

“Aye, by recommendation from your wife,” said Jaime

“Why?” asked Jon “What exactly happened in Kings Landing?”

Jaime’s face then became solemn, he turned toward Theon asking him to leave them in private, and fetch new clothes for Jon. Jon though continued to press, desperate to know how his wife became Queen of Westeros. “Did you kill your Sister? Is that why you are here?”

“No, I wasn’t the one who killed her.” answered Jaime. As Jaime began to speak, Jon could see the visions of Kings Landing in his mind, they were dark and unfamiliar.

They stood in the throne room. A green substance covered the floor as she was forced to kneel before the iron throne. A whip held by the Dragon Queen was wrapped around Cersei’s arms, forcing them behind her back. “You will all burn! You will all burn!” She kept chanting, almost growling like an animal. She didn’t stop until she saw Jaime, her face then contorting into a horrid desire. “Jaime, my brother, my dear brother you have come back to me. Kill the bitch just like you did her father! I want to watch as you cut her throat.” When he didn’t move she became angry “You side with this foreign whore, you are traitor! I am the one true Queen, this throne belongs to me.” She then spat blood toward him before returning to her previous rage “You will all burn! You will all burn!”

“End it!” Jaime shouted as he climbed the stairs toward the throne. Daenerys pulled tighter on the whip as Cersei began to thrash in an attempt to be released from her bonds. Though she still breathed Jaime could see the sister who once fell in love with was gone. She had been consumed by power and madness. What she had become was the climax to something Jaime had known to be happening since she took the throne. He stood frozen and numb as he watched the young wolf step in front of him, a dragon glass dagger in her hand. In an instant it was all over, the dagger was slashed across her throat, blood spattered across the room. A retched disgusting cry flew from Cersei’s throat before she fell forward. Her tyrannical rule coming to its rightful end.

“It was Arya?” gasped Jon shocked by what he had just been told. He then remembered sitting in the dining hall of Winterfell late one night alone with his sister. She shared with him a bag, the contents terrifying him. She spoke of a list, those who would die for what they had done to her and her family. What the world had made his little sister become angered him. “If it was her then why are you here?”

“I have always felt guilty for what I have done in my past.” said Jaime “I kept those feelings at bay when I was commander of the Kingsguard and the Lannister Army. When Cersei fell, there was nothing left for me in Kings Landing and became consumed with it. That is when Queen Daenerys sent me here. The night I said my vows was the first time I felt free from that guilt.”

Jon understood, the day he joined the Night's Watch he left his old life behind. It was almost as if he became a new person that day in front of the Godswood. His past no longer mattered and he finally had a purpose. Without the Night’s Watch, he would have never become the man he was today. “If the walkers are gone, and the Free Folk are no longer a threat to Westeros then what is the purpose of the watch?.”

“There will always be a need for the Watch.” said Jaime “Though our objectives have now changed. Now that winter is over your wife has plans for us to chart the land’s beyond the wall. The Queen has continued to keep the Free Folk as allies of Westeros.”

“Do you have enough men? The lands beyond the Wall are vast.” asked Jon, remembering how they had once barely enough to man Castle Black.

“We now almost have too many recruits,” said Jaime “Once she settled into her reign Daenerys wanted your story told. She wanted everyone to know who saved them all. The statues are on top of the Wall, at the entrance to the North, and Kings Landing. Ever since, young men who felt they had no place to go have come here.”

“Dany…” he whispered. ‘My story isn’t the one that needs to be told, it is yours.’ he thought to himself. “I need to see her, I need to get to Kings Landing.”

“Of course,” said Jaime “It would be safer for you to travel with the group that was already headed for Kings Landing for the wedding.”

“Wedding?” gasped Jon. 5 years was a long time, and he feared Daenerys would have married another for political reasons.

“Aye, your young sister Arya,” said Jaime taking another swig of ale. “God's help Gendry if he ever crosses her.”

Arya, his little sister, was marrying. He remembered watching from afar when they were younger. When all the girls pretended to marry lords, she pretended to fight off bandits who threatened the celebration. He could still hear her Mother asking her why she continued to rip or dirty her gowns. He struggled to imagine her wearing a long gown before saying her vows with Gendry. “Theon and his party should be ready in a few hours. I will make sure accommodations are made for your safety.”

“Yara!” shouted Aegon as he ran toward the sea captain who climbed onto the docks from her ship. From a balcony above Sam watched as the woman scooped the child into her arms, his mother smiling as she approached to also greet the taller woman.

“I figured you would be sending out those Ravens.” he heard Jorah Mormont say as he walked over to the edge of the balcony. Both men watching as Daenerys was helped onto a ship by one of the House Greyjoy members. Little Aegon still in Yara’s arms, laughing in excitement.

“I sat in the study for over an hour, and I stared at that piece of paper.” said Sam “The quill was in my hand yet I couldn’t bring it to touch the paper.”

“The offer to write it and send it out still stands,” said Jorah placing a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. The larger man instead shook his head, once again refusing the offer.

“It’s not that I can’t write it, I can.” said Sam, swallowing hard. “It’s just that once it’s done and they find his body, then it all becomes real.” Even after 5 years of nothing, Sam still had some hope that his friend would one day come back. He had dreams of Jon returning, saying he simply just got caught beyond the wall and needed to wait for the snows to thaw, Night’s Watch rangers had done such before. “The fact that he isn’t coming back becomes real.”

“Sam it is real.” said Jorah “He sacrificed himself so we could live without the threat in the North. To move forward, we need it to be to be real. She needs it to be real.”

“You know I used to worry about him. My god, he was always doing something dangerous. One time he went all by himself to make peace with Mance Rayder. When I saw him return from that Free Folk camp, I knew he would always come back.”

“It sounds like you need it to be real.” said Jorah

“Aye I do.” said Sam “I just wish it didn’t have to be.”

Later that night Daenerys had tucked her son into bed. A ritual she refused to allow anyone else, even her most trusted advisors to do. “Mother, Maester Samwell said that winter might be over. Is that true?”

“Yes, and do you remember what season comes after Winter?” asked Daenerys as she fluffed the pillow behind his head.

“Spring and then Summer. Both are warmer than Winter.” said Aegon with a proud smile.

“That’s right.” smiled Daenerys. “I am looking forward to the warmer weather. This was my first in the cold winter as it was yours.”

“Really? What about Father, was it his first one too?” Daenerys had told Aegon all about his Father. As the boy grew older it appeared as if he was beginning to regard Jon as a hero, someone he needed to know every little detail about.

“No my love. Your Father lived at the Wall, it’s always cold there.”

“Yes, but what about Winterfell? Does it get warm at there during the summers?” asked Aegon as he cradled a small stuffed White Wolf.

“I am not sure.” said Daenerys as she rarely discussed what it was like to grow up at Winterfell with Jon. There short time together had been so consumed with the Night King and the war with the Army of the Dead. Simple discussions of their pasts were few are far between. “Get some sleep. We have very busy and exciting days ahead of us.”

As she rose toward the door, she placed a small kiss on her son’s forehead who in turn reach his arms around her neck. She turned in a smiled as she watched him curl under the covers, grasping his white dire wolf. As she looked upon his sleeping for she felt the soft fur brush past her. Looking forward she saw Ghost hop on Aegon’s bed, keeping watch over the Prince for the night.

She nodded toward the Dothraki guards who also kept watch over her son before entering her own sleeping quarters next door. There she found Missandei waiting to help her undress for the night. Once she was undressed and in her nightgown, she watched Missandei placed 3 drops of a substance into a glass of water sitting by her bedside. Ever since taking the throne alone she had been unable to sleep without assistance from Essence of Nightshade. Drinking it made her lonely nights shorter and bearable.

As she looked out her window taking small sips of the drink, she noticed she could finally see the stars clearly. Their lights reflected upon the bay, as they seemed to go on for miles, reaching the end of the world. She imagined her husband standing next to her, his arms wrapping around her before placing a kiss atop her forehead. When she turned her head, she found that she was alone.

Smoothing the long black cloak out below his hands, Jon looked down upon his current dress. While the leathers were mostly new and unknown, the cloak was a familiar. It was the one he wore as Lord Commander, he imagined Edd had saved it believing Jon would return to the Wall after the war with the dead. He didn’t imagine he would ever wear it again. “Here,” said Theon handing him a smaller, thinner cloak. “Wear this one under it, there is a hood. We will make it to King's Landing faster if your identity is kept hidden.”

Jon obliged. While he didn’t fear being captured by an enemy he didn’t want to make the journey any longer, then it needed to be. The only thing he wanted was to see Daenerys, to hold her tightly in his arms. Once reunited he would relish in the peace she had given to Westeros.

Pulling the hood over his head, he headed to the courtyard of Castle Black. There he found Jaime waiting by his horse to see the Night’s Watch off. “I figured you would want the fastest horse we have.” he heard the Lord Commander say. Jaime then reached his hand, Jon took it to shake, before pulling Jaime closer, just as the other man had done in Winterfell years prior.

“Thank you, and let me say that I am grateful to have good and strong men like you protecting us.” Both Jaime and Jon laughed at the young King’s wit.

“Go to her.” said Jaime “Give everyone in King’s Landing my best.”

Jon nodded before climbing on his horse. As he did so he saw the members of the Night’s Watch had lined the front and sides of the courtyard, he guessed they were hoping to catch a glimpse of him. As Jon looked upon their faces, he could not help but see himself in their faces, boys hoping to find their purpose in this world. He smiled and nodded toward them before kicking his heels, his horse carrying him toward his purpose.