#also probably worth mentioning that my grandmother was still with us when i got this impression from canon Tumblr posts

[recentadultburnout]

So I wrote a PatPran fic for the Songkran Fest 2024 event. It's pretty dialogue-heavy😅

Ao3

Part of yours

Summary:

After so many years of sneaking around, Pat and Pran are finally accepted by each other's families.

Or

Pat joins in with Pran's family during songkran.

"It's going to be Songkran soon."

At night Pat says. His arms hang loosely around his lover's torso.

"So what?"

Pran ask in return, still paid more attention to the headphone reviews than the conversion.

"You want to go out?"

He pushes Pat's hand away a little, making it easier for him to grab a pencil for his note. With the discount, this one will be in the budget. It would be worth it if the reviews were true.

"Nah, not really..."

And now Pat's head is in his lap. Demand attention.

"It's just... Ugh! I don't even know! After grandpa passed, we don't even Rodnam properly anymore. When it was Songkran, we just laid around the house together. Order something to eat, maybe. It's been what? Since high school?"

"But ink has been there these past few years, you know? Apparently, Pa also went to Rodnam with her parents too." Pat complain.

"So?"

"Ink lives hours away. Our houses are right next to each other! Don't you see how ridiculous this is?!"

"You actually want to Rodnam my parents?"

That was quite a surprise. Pran didn't think Pat even wanted to be in the same room with them before, and now he wants to Rodnam them? Go sit there at their feet, ask for their blessing, and act like a sweet obedience child. Pat? With his parents?

"Eh... maybe?"

Pat looked pretty hesitant with his answer, but after a moment of silence, he did not change it.

"We can try."

"Really?"

"So you just want to vent but not actually do it?"

"No! I want to do it! Really! For real!"

"Yeah, yeah. It's not like they don't know we live together."

"They know?"

"I'm pretty sure they know. No one has said anything yet, but... I don't know. They are not stupid, you know. And lately, we didn't even try to hide."

"I don't think my mom is going to flip just because I asked if you could come pay respect to her. Maybe she will flip if I tell her I'm going to pay respect to yours. But I don't think she will ask, so I will probably just not mention it and skip that conversation."

"I will have you know, she has come quite far."

Pat made a face.

"I hope that's true."

"That's final, then. We're going to be at my grandmother's on the 14th, and Uncle Pok's family will probably be there. Aunt Pann too. I'm not bringing you with me that day this year. Let's start with just my parents first. From 12 to 16, other than 14, you can pick any day."

"Kay"

.

He is the one who tells his boyfriend that his mom will be fine with him coming in on Songkran, 'intruding' on family time, but will she really?

Pran wants to say she definitely will. But still, he was scared.

If he decides not to go through with it, Pat will understand. He might be teasing him for a bit for chicken out of something he suggested himself, but he will understand.

He can still scrub the plan.

Nah.

What is he? A coward? Definitely NOT.

.

"My mom agreed."

She acts like she knows and has been fine with their relationship all along. Pran is not sure who she tries to deceive—herself or him.

It seems pointless.

Well, this attitude is better than before, for sure, and he is not about to question it.

"I never think I'm going to live to see the day your mom accepts me as her son-in-law."

Pat pretends to swoon.

"What son-in-law? I have no husband."

Pran retaliate. The word 'yet' nearly got out without thinking.

"One day, you will."

Is it bad that he got a butterfly from that? Just a little, he swears.

"Let the bill actually pass first, then we can talk."

"Awww, I know you want me."

"Don't be stupid."

Pran laughs, pushing Pat away.

"What about your dad?"

Pat made a face.

"He didn't say anything. My mom says she is happy you want to join us, and my dad keeps his quiet—no complaints, no weird noise of disapproval, nothing, just quiet, so yeah, all is well."

.

"Did you know my dad never joined my mom's family on Songkran before they married?"

"Don't your parents marry less than a year after they met?"

"You are no fun."

"You love me."

"Yeah, I love you. You little joy killer."

.

"Pat, why does your Nam Ob come in a plastic bottle?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Where do you even find Nam Ob that comes in a plastic bottle? I swear it's only come in a glass bottle. And what brand is this? It smells weird."

"It's not! It from 7–11. It literally sits there in front of the drink shelf in 7-11. You just dropped by there this evening. How come you don't see it?"

"You buy Nam Ob at 7-11? Wow, just wow."

If he sees Nam Ob at 7-11, he probably buys it there too instead of going to the other shop just to buy one thing every year, but Pat didn't need to know that.

.

"Why can't we just pour the Nam Ob straight from the bottle into their hands?"

"Pat, I swear."

"What? What's wrong with that? Korn has done it too!"

"Yeah, and Korn is the exact same type as my mom."

"Next, you're going to suggest we use that plastic water bowl you got as a package deal with Nam Ob to catch the water during the time we Rodnam my parents."

"It sure would be a whole lot easier to clean compared to that delicate, unpractical little glass tray with pedestal you brought. THAT gives me a scare of my life every moment I have to hold it. The plastic bowl will not."

"Why glass, by the way? If you want to go for traditional, shouldn't it be the gold or silver one? Or maybe Benjarong? Do we use Benjarong for this?"

"My mom likes it. She is the one who brought a set that was used during my dad's Songkran every year. I think there is another set for her parents too, but I was too young back then, so I don't remember much."

"Did you pick what you will bring as a gift yet?"

"Is the tea box set good enough? It's a premium tea from Doi Mae Salong. Super fine plucking too. Your mom loves tea, right?"

"Shouldn't it be some type of cloth?"

"Umm, why?"

Pran sigh.

"If I wronged you in any way before, please forgive me."

If you ask, Pat will tell you that he is 100% sure he was the one who was wronged by them, not the other way around. Sadly, this is what he asked for, so he will have to suck it up.

Having to sit through an awkward meal and an even more awkward family ritual where he clearly out of place isn't that enjoyable, but the fantasy of having the main door open for him is too great for anything to weigh him down.

At least it's going to be done soon.

"I wish you good health. Anything you think of, let it become true. Let your life and career be more and more prosperous."

The blessings are as generic as they can be. Nothing is meaningful like what Pran gets.

Pat is just glad he gets any blessings at all.

The brief touch at the top of his head feels surprisingly nice. Better than he thinks it will be. And with that, the ceremony is done.

Now Pat can pretend to be a good child who wants to help tidy everything up in earnest and escape the scenes for a while. He is grateful for the fact that after so many years of sneaking around, he finally gets to be an invited guess, but he is also in urgent need of alone time away from their eyes.

If Pran can come with him for a bit, that would be great, but at the moment, it seems like the most Pran could do is distract his parents while Pat flees.

.

Pran is still with his dad when Dissaya approaches him at the front of the house, where he is putting all their belongings in his car.

Due to the lack of topics he can think of, Pat just started thanking Pran's mom again for today. It's a little too uneasy, but that's pretty much all he does all day.

Her acknowledgement is practically permission for him to marry her son, for all he cares. Never think he will ever see this day, really.

She sighs and breathes in deeply. Her eyes make Pat paranoid. Pran's beloved mother will never be Pat's favorite person.

"Pran is my son. He will always be my precious little boy. I didn't approve of him being so close with you before because I didn't want him to make the same mistake as me. I will admit that I judged you too harshly and too soon. You make Pran happy, have been for quite some time now. If Pran wants you to be part of our family, then yes, I can look past the other things and accept you."

This little speech of hers makes Pat want to roll his eyes.

Madam Dissaya sure is pretentious.

But contrary to what Pran may think, he does practice self-restraint. So, of course, he thanks her again.

Today is a success.

"Since they now officially know about us, I can openly go into the house wherever, right?"

Pat slides one hand onto Pran's knee before asking teasingly. His boyfriend seems to be in a very good mood, since he let it sit there without starting to lecture him on the topic of the dangers of carelessness while driving.

"Don't test my mom's patience too much."

Pran scolds him, but there is clearly mirth in his voice.

"You mom say I make you happy~"

"You do"

Those two words sound so loving. Pat can help but melt a little.

"She says she accepts me as a part of the family."

He brags further. This time, Pran was actually surprised.

"What? Really? Word by word, or?"

"Word-by-word"

His love reaction makes him feel all puff up. Like that cute little bird he saw on the timeline.

"Is my mom proposing to you for me?"

Pran laugh. His hand is playing with the hand on his knee now.

"It's a yes, by the way."

"I didn't ask yet, you dorks."

"No need. My beloved mother-in-law already asked for you."

"I should be a good son and marry who she picks then."

"Yeah, you better."

"That bill—should we try to win the title of the first couple to register after it passes?"

"Sure, I want to be the first in everything, don't you know?" Pat jokes.

If this is Pran's hint for him to propose, he wouldn't be opposed to it. More than ready, actually.

Suddenly, there is something cold sitting on his finger.

"If you don't like this one, the shop allows us to return it and pick up a new one in a 30-day time frame. There will be some fee, of course."

Pat nearly crashed the car.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Hades 2 impressions/rambling

Putting everything under here. Long post beware.

Spoilers spoilers everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay I am doing my best to keep everything understandable but no promises. I am still pretty early on in the game but I felt like I got enough to talk about.

Using a list format to help my brain.

Melinoë

Heavens help me, she is too precious for this world. Her genuine effort to help/befriend any one that comes across her is so heartwarming to see.

She definitely giving the honor student and perfect daughter vibe to the family even she and her family doesn’t know it.

It is clear how similar Zagreus she is with her determination and smart comments however they did a great job of making Mel her own character in her polite manners and studious attitude along complex relationships.

I love that the creators acknowledged Melionë feeling like she is fighting for both an impossible future and a family she never knew. I feel like we don’t often get see that kinda of thing.

The fact that Hecate kept reminding Melinoë that Hecate is not her mother and never will be is a kick in the teeth.

It is so painfully clear that just like Zagreus, Mel is looking that sense of belonging but unlike Achilles, Hecate had openly rejected even the possibility.

Then having Mel not right out stating that she find her worth in Hecate’ opinions before they fight and Hecate scolding Mel for her behavior.

Oof, knife to the heart.

I can’t wait to see how Mel and Hecate’s relationships changes and grow.

Hecate

For whatever reason, she won’t let anyone close to her, even the child she rised and played with and loved so deeply.

Maybe because of that love she won’t show it, in fear of getting her or worse, her enemies using her love for Mel as a weak point.

Like Nyx and Hades, she put Queen Persephone on a pedestal. Which I completely understand. It also clear that to Hecate, Mel and her mother are more like than not, both kind and seeing the best in everyone.

What I am really interested in is the break between her and Demeter. I wonder if she did really had to hide Mel from everyone or was she just trying to control everything and everyone? Could she really not trust anyone?

Even the grandmother would do anything for her grandchildren. Who maybe learn her lesson from losing her daughter and grandson from the first time.

Dora

her roommate/best friend/sibling relationship with Dora is amazing too. I just how Dora tries to be completely shallow and shameless in her lack of ambition and refusal to engage with other shades but not able to completely pull it off.

I don’t know if ties in with the box or her refusal to accept what happened to her, but I am invested.

Nemesis

I adore their messy/bully relationship.

She had a similar function to Thanatos but she is actively unhelpful ( for me anyway) which is definitely a fun game mechanic.

I do think she is good for Mel since she keep the princess on her toes.

but depending on how the story plays out, her unwillingness to work or listen to anyone will definitely end up hurting their causes (which might end up being a turning point for her. I am putting my full faith in SG and their storytelling)

Odysseus

ahhhh, the man, the legend! I love his voice, definitely a good fit for him and feel like smooth butter.

He is definitely that uncle who gave the kiddos candy when the parents were’t looking. And I love his character design, and his grin is so prefect for his character.

He and Mel have a better relationship than most I think however it is clear he is putting on his best face for her and not being entirely upfront with her.

Which i understand, he probably still see that little girl she once was, the one who just want to play hide and seek and make others happy.

So understandable. *sobs*

I am little concerned that in his entry, it mentioned a weakness for witches. Which yikes. But I need to remember the EPIC take on Odysseus is just now slowly becoming the normal.

What I will in mind is that Odysseus is two things above all. He is nobody and he is always lying.

So it definitely possible he is playing it up in order keep his family safe.

Also the fact he find peace in the garden??? Omg I can’t with this sad man.

Schememeus

ahhhh! He looks so good! My man got himself a big, beautiful beard! I love that we are getting more of the lore about him! (I am so glad I gave him more attention in northern star)

He is still so wonderfully supportive and I know he would do anything for the princess.

Charon/Hermes

They are married, your honor!

Gosh, I think they might be one of the top highlights for me.

For Charon, I’m glad that more people are appreciating the work and effort he putting in for them. Esp since they definitely didn’t in the first game.

The fact he doesn’t even hide how concerned he is for Hermes make me cry especially since one expects him to act cold in front of others. His relationship with Mel is a little more softer than it was with Zagreus which I appreciate.

Hermes is still perfect, no notes. I haven’t gotten much time with him but his updated design is the perfect way to tie his relationship with Charon.

So far I would say he treats Mel much like Zagreus but we have to wait and see.

I love that we can get to see Shelly a lot better now and she looked so happy just to be with her master even if there was an horrible war.

Moros

He is such babygirl.

In all seriousness though, his calm demeanor and polite manners makes him the perfect emissary for the Fates.

He takes no pleasure in his duty nor does he pity the morals, he just simply is.

It is clear that he understands that he often isn’t welcomed by many and is keeping a distance. Which hurts that he stays just outside of the circle.

His relationship with Nemesis is interesting to me. They clearly worked together and i would say it seemed like they even have an amicable relationship. But i am curious if we will find out more.

Selene

Ahhh, they did so good with her design! Her eyes even look like full moons with no noticeable pupils ( i wonder her eyes will match with the moon phase, i haven’t see it in the game but i ma making it my HC now)

Her crown/helmet is so amazing, the fact it hold the moon ( or at least appear so) was a fantastic idea. Her moonstones and the celestial jewelry is pure eye candy to me.

If it was possible, I would do anything to have her luscious hair. I am glad they really play with the colors with her design, it reminds me of opals.

The first time one meet her, you can immediately tell she is a regal goddess/titan and can’t help but in awe. Her Pegasus looked just like a little girls’ dream horse and i am here for it!

Selene is also a genuine kind person even if she is a tad nosy. ( I am nosy too so)

I do need to spend more time with her to get know her better but I love that she keeping a watchful eye on Mel and I can’t wait to see how everything goes.

Arachne

Her silk dressses have saved my behind so many times.

I like how complicated her and Mel’s friendship is. I don’t believe Mel have the full story of what happened and don’t understand Arachne’ distrust of the gods. Doesn’t help Arachne doesn’t want to speak of it as well, hiding things from Mel as well.

It seems like she is waiting for Melionë to act like the others, kinda setting her for small tests.

I do hope they will reach an understanding. I don’t think she will betray Mel ( I hope) but it isn’t outside the realm of possibilities. If she and the Time Titan meet, and she falls for the lies…

Demeter

This poor woman can’t get a break.

First her daughter and her grandson are hidden from her then when it seemed like everyone was a fresh start with princess Melionë only for her Father to come in and steal away what must like hope itself for her.

Her grief in losing her family, not once but twice, is so painfully clear in every single conversation with her. She never even got to see her grandkids grow up.

While she is like that rich grandma who scold people who use the wrong spoon for soup, it is clear she is ride or die for her grandchildren.

Artemis

If my heart didn’t belong to someone else…

I love everything about her, despite of the war she really has grown into herself and feels far more confident in this game. I’m so happy get to see more of her personality shine through!

No wonder she and Zag got on, she is just as cheeky sometimes. I love how she is with Mel, praising her often during their share battles and letting her closer than most.

Also ‘my woodsy goddess’????

um?????

The Olympians

keeping this part short since I want to wait until i get up there to interact with them more.

I love how everyone is like ‘oh it happened again with Hades’ kids, oh well- hello long lost family member! We love you, *mawh* now have this godly power and um. Go kill the old bastard, k thanks.’

Chronos

Ewwwwww- Botha- what is that????

He is a bee in my bonnet and i hate him. (Can’t wait to have more conversations with him, he is a fun villain)

I already have a few run in with him and I can see why the morals fell for lies. Like if someone could bring back a golden age, I can definitely see it being him, the titan’s portrait just oozes power but it won’t be. Never will be.

Even Zeus admitted that.

Also the fact he claims he will never wonder in the woods but he sure seems pretty comfortable getting close to it. I just hope he doesn’t try to find the crossroads.

(Also anyone had that conversation with Hestia, where she muses over how to permanently be rid of him?? How to kill a god indeed.)

Narcissus

I hope they never move the veil. Every conversation with this guy both delighted and frustrated me.

He had been surprisingly useful for me.

Scylla and the sirens

baby I will get you as many morals as you want- just stop killing me please.

They did great on everyone’s designs, feel very much like Josie and pussycats ( the animation one from the 1970ish). Scylla’s shell is such a pain in the ass.

Hypnos

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN! 😭 my babygirl!!!!!!!!!

Design

His updated portrait looks so effing pretty. While sleep, he looked so peaceful. I love they went with the longer hair, it works for him along with being another way to note the passing of time.

My only is note that I wish it was more proofy and less flat. However if his hair is super thick, it possible that it just weight the curls down, along with being against a pillow all the time.

Also his little wing is now missing from his new portrait. Maybe it flat against his head while sleeping. so maybe it only appears when he is wake.

It might just be me, but he also looked like his face looks a little more grown up as well.

I love how the eyemask had hanged colors as well. The purple is making wonder if it supposed to tie with someone else possibly with his mom or Hecate. (There had no mention of his canon wife so I am going to assume for now she isn’t in this game.)

His cloak had changed as well, with gold buttons ( or coins stitched in it?). The gold isn’t seen in the first game as per his model sheet so that is an interesting change. i wonder if that is supposed to be a nod toward Charon or just a style choice.

Also all those poppies! Ahhh, i love it they tied it in. However I wonder where they are coming from. It is likely Melinoë herself had been putting them there but she had made no mention of doing so yet.

Another possibility is that Hypnos is creating them his sleep or maybe the witches added as it way to help him with his powers.

Location

He is given his own area/garden with one of Hecate’s more bigger guards looming over him. He is also given gentle lights and surrounded by plant life. Which I love.

I love this sign of care and effort Hecate is giving Nyx’s son, she is showing so much respect and hospitality for him and I am for it.

Most people would be resentful of someone sleeping all the time but I haven’t sense that from Hecate.

Relationships

With Hecate, I suspect ( and everyone else) she know more about hypnos then she is letting on. She obviously respects Nyx and that shows in the way she cares for Hypnos and his siblings.

Melinoë doesn’t seem to know what to do with him. In the book of Shadows, he isn’t considered part of the crossroad but is put in the same list as Chaos ( another person Mel seem unsure of) However it is called ‘The Rest’ so it just might be a pun on Hypnos always sleeping.

I do think she cares and admires him even when others dismiss Hypnos. I think his cheerful demeanor is exactly what she needs rn and will make them great friends.

Nemesis still hold little respect for Hypnos however she like with almost everyone so not unique.

Charon mentioned that Hypnos was more useful sleep than wake. However it was more like he was completely serious than rather being mean to Hypnos (like Hecate, he knows more but is likely waiting until Mel is ready)

So I am hoping that means his relationship with Charon had improved.

I still haven’t gotten anything from Moros or the others so I am curious as to when I will be able to learn more.

I have heard in the new update there are new Hypnos stuff but I am trying to go in blind for now. So no comment on that.

Anyway I rambled on enough ( congrats if you made this far lol)

In conclusion, I can’t wait for more!!! They did so good with this game!

[ameliaashdale]

TW: Mentions of Homelessness, death, abuse and trauma

I have been absent for FAR too long from this site.

Forgive me, for I am currently homeless.

It has been a long nine months. May of 2023 saw the decimation of my hopes. Our deranged, feral cat of a landlord got us thrown out into the street. We bounced around from hotel to hotel, with what little we could fit into our car: including our beloved dog, who became ill and was placed in foster care as a result of heat exhaustion.

Living in the car during May and June means heat. Lots of heat.

I was forced to sell my Nintendo Switch, my 3DS, my writing laptop...

I've lost months' worth of plotting and ideas. I also have nothing left to cope with. Video games kept me calm and helped me release anger when I was overwhelmed.

I sold my things for hotel money.

And we still wound up sleeping outside.

My family abandoned us in our time of need. This wouldn't have happened had they not sold our original home in the first place, 10 year prior. They took our home after my grandmother died and used to money to live it up in Europe. My mother and I were barely living, meanwhile.

I need stability because of my Autism. I need safety because I am wracked with severe OCD. I have neither of those things.

We spent Christmas outside on the cold streets. We nearly died from hypothermia. My lips were purple, and my toes were frozen stiff. No one would help us. They left us there to die.

My mother had a horrendous, abusive upbringing. My grandmother was a gambling, hoarding klepto who never loved my mom and neglected me even more.

My mom had to work constantly when I was a child. Grandma never interacted with me as a toddler. I grew up in la la land. TV was my only view of the outside world. I quoted it verbatim. My toys and dolls were my family. As a result, I was an embarrassment that everyone hated. Even my kindergarten teacher called me the devil's spawn.

No one ever sat down to talk to my mom when she was a child. She never got to help me either.

My mom's life is shit. But she shouldn't have to die a miserable 63 year old. I'm twenty-five. My birthday is in a month. I should not die in the snow and ice, frozen to death in the woods or on the streets. They will probably not even throw us a funeral. They will pray for us in passing and leave it at that. We are the black sheep of the family, a taint on their good name.

But who cares if I had ambitions to become a writer? To work at lucasfilm? To actually prove that people like me--women, girls, people with autism, and people living with constant fear on their minds-- are more than capable of being successful?

Why should I freeze to death, unmourned and forgotten?

Why should I give my life so these people could live in luxury?!

[cornerstonc]

ship + forget / natori and the cat king , let's GO

ship headcanons | accepting

hey have i mentioned my kind of trivial headcanon that between the two of them, natori is the genuinely absent-minded one

everyone assumes it's the other way around only bc natori has figured out countless tricks and other covert methods to get around and cover up his absentmindedness and the king's evident Bad Memory is really just a result of him not giving a crap as opposed to him genuinely not remembering 

i had a dumb headcanon that the cat king's favorite game is the soldier from botany bay bc he's The Champion at it lmao (especially when playing against lune or natori rip natori is so tired of being constantly challenged pls let him rest)

that's not the main headcanon i wanted to bring up with this but it did remind me of it

that said, however, i remember one of my original ideas for the interpretation of their relationship was that, even without adding romantic feelings into the mix, the fact would remain that they have known each other for A Long Time and are quite familiar and comfortable with each other, and natori, in particular, feels a lot of affection for the king regardless of the exact nature of their relationship

so there always was this idea i had that in a certain way, they have technically grown old together, and are continuing to do so, and for as absent-minded as natori can be at times, it's the king who has been showing more troubling signs of. senescence over the past while, at least mentally/emotionally

i remember one of my initial impressions of the king's behavior (specifically, his very gradual personality change throughout the movie) was that it reminded me somewhat of. well. perhaps early dementia, or something akin to it ;; in that he is unpredictable, easily angered and impulsively Aggressive, but when subdued and/or allowed to calm down on his own, as we see at the end of canon, he sort of just deflates and meekly waits around for someone to come after him (and that it was in fact natori in canon who ultimately came to him, and seemingly alone at that, still kinda hurts me a little ;-;)

of course it could also be that it was the reminder that he was physically not the young cat he once was, losing to baron So Easily, which led to his subdued, crestfallen state at the end of the movie buT

and whether or not this is actually what's going on, it's behavior that's been weighing on natori, as i do like the idea that he's generally been the one dealing with it, sometimes behind the proverbial closed doors-- not wanting to concern lune, perhaps at the king's own insistence thinking emoji (a reluctance that extends also to whatever medical personnel or such exists in the cat kingdom lmao). that he is therefore heaping this entire responsibility on natori alone has probably not occurred to him, and natori certainly isn’t going to bring it up

so. as is so typical of them, it's not a subject either of them ever explicitly brings up, so neither of them are certain of the exact Extent of what's going on or what the other one’s feelings on it Are

bc of this, i do imagine that natori worries occasionally if this aggressive, impulsive behavior will continue, if not worsen, to the point that the king ends up no longer much like himself as well as forgets those he once held dear

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Politics and Violence- Part 6

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: The reader gets into Elliot's car on a mission, her eyes tired from all the tears that have been shed. Elliot immediately notices, worry consuming him but when she begins to ask questions, he panics. They eventually come to an okay conclusion, wanting a much deserved moment to relax but it doesn't last long when the reader gets a call in the middle of the night.

Song: "Watercolor Eyes" by Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Straight angst. Swear words and one mention of sex.

A/n: This chapter is heavy and heavy and heavy.

I feel like I’m floating.

My whole body is trembling, the anxiety making my blood run cold, my teeth chattering. I wanted to be alone but I knew that I needed to talk to Elliot, to get some answers and hopefully get some clarification. My shaky legs carry me outside as I sniffle, my mind fuzzy from the adrenaline. I probably looked like a wreck, my hands shaking and my mind not being able to completely focus on one thought without getting caught up in the events that just occurred.

Fez and I had never fought like that, certainly not in front of Ash. Our grandmother, though angry all the time, hated to fight in front of us. She would even go as far as stepping out of the room to leave us alone, her angry shouts being heard from the next room. I was worried about Ash but I could assume that he would hide in his room, tucked away to avoid Fez and any leftover anger that the man had to offer. I would call him later, comforting him if he needed it, which I’m sure he did. He always hated when we fought, not being able to go long without getting involved. He’d force Fez to apologize eventually, knowing that I was right most of the time. I would also make it a point to text Faye too, just thankful that she offered a helping hand and stood up for me. I owe her for that.

Stepping up to Elliot’s car, I watch as he sends me a soft smile, his fingers fluttering in a wave. I just swallow my anxiety, pulling open the door with a strained smile. “Hi baby.” Elliot whispers, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to my lips. His hand rests on my thigh as I tense, my head tilting away from him, detaching our lips. He stays close, his eyebrows pulling together in concern. “Hey, were you crying?” He asks, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek as his thumb swipes over my damp cheek. I just sniffle loudly, reaching up to wipe my eyes frustratedly. I pull his hand away from my cheeks, his whole frame deflating in anxiety. “Talk to me.” He pleads, my head shaking in denial and my eyes flicker back up to the house, my stomach lurching as I try my best to find my voice.

“Fez and I- uh- got in a fight.” I mutter, reaching up to run a hand through my hair. I kick my shoes off, tucking my knees to my chest as my lip wobbles. He just nods, his eyes shining with concern, his jaw tight.

“What about?” He shifts anxiously in his seat, my hand just waving him off but he scoffs. “Alright, I’m gonna drive and you’re gonna talk.” He smiles sadly, reaching over to pat my thigh softly. He knew that I didn’t like when the attention was all on me because I felt obligated to come up with some way to explain how I’m feeling. Sometimes it just wasn't that easy.

Instead, we developed this plan where he would just drive and listen. But this wasn’t exactly the topic that he could sit still while listening. I had questions, demands, concerns; all of them wanting to tumble off the tip of my tongue every time I opened my mouth. I watch him as he turns the steering wheel, his eyes occasionally flickering over to me as he waits for me to speak- to explain. I never really came to him about mine and Fez’s fights or issues, he just knew that our relationship was strained sometimes but that I loved him always and no matter what.

“Elly…” I trail off, my head resting against the headrest as I huff. “Are you on drugs?” I ask flat out, deciding to stop beating around the bush. It wasn't worth putting off, his worried expression turning to something more stoic, his lips tugging down in a frown. The question hangs in the air for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as he takes a calm breath, pulling into the nearest parking lot that he can find. He parks the car without a word before unclicking his seatbelt, turning his whole body towards me. We mirror each other, our knees pressed against our chests, tears in our eyes.

“How’d you find out?” He asks softly, sniffling as he picks at a certain spot on his jeans. I just sigh loudly, Fezco and Custer’s suspicions being more than accurate.

“Fezco and his fucking 'partner' pried into your life and then bullied me about it.” I scoff bitterly, rubbing the back of my neck nervously, shaking my head. “It’s safe to say that Fez and I won’t be talking for a bit.” I whisper, my eyes fluttering over to him as he nods, biting at his bottom lip anxiously. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask exasperatedly, not even mad that he has an issue, just upset that I never saw it and that he didn't trust me enough to tell me. He just shrugs softly, his lips rising in a soft smile.

“I like you a lot… Didn’t want you to run.” He answers honestly, his chest rumbling in quiet cries as I frown, the boy breaking down in front of me. He hadn’t known me long enough to realize that the drugs didn’t scare me, that I knew better than anyone how they work on the human body, physiologically and mentally. “Should I be nervous that your brother’s gonna kick down my door?” He asks, his face nothing but genuine as I shake my head, a sad laugh leaving my lips. He lets out a brief sigh of relief, feeling comforted by that fact but I can tell by his tight shoulders that he’s still holding onto something. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asks, his voice wavering as I shake my head immediately, my body moving to climb over the middle console. I sink right down onto his lap with a quiet coo, my arms wrapping around his neck. “Cuz- fuck- I’d get it. I’d understand if you wanted to leave. I know you’ve got enough drugs in your life in one way or another-” I cut him off, tightening my arms around him as he whimpers, his hands fisting the back of my shirt. “I’m sorry- I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n.” He mutters, his face tucking into the crook of my neck as I cry, the anxiety and emotions from today finally breaking me. “I just need you and I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to put all this fucking pressure on you.” He explains, my head nodding quietly as my fingers gently run through his hair. The car falls silent, the windows fogging briefly from our tears.

“I’m not mad about the drugs. I’m mad at my brother for being intrusive and I’m mad that you kept it from me.” I mumble, my lips pressing against his shoulder. “But this isn’t a break up moment.” I reassure him, my lips moving to press against his temple as I pull away to look at him. He just laughs tearily, reaching up to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Even with the sensitive topic and snot, he was still the most handsome man ever.

“You’re being way too fucking nice to me.” He cries, his hands settling on my waist as I reach up to cup his cheeks. His eyes flutter shut at the touch, my forehead leaning to rest against his own. Our quiet gasps and whimpers mix between us, my lips pressing against his briefly.

“You just gotta be honest, El.” I whisper, my thumbs rubbing against his cheekbones.

“I’ll tell you everything. I will, I’m sorry.” He sighs, his head shaking disappointedly. “I’m sorry this came from Fez. I’m sorry that he was so fucking keen on getting involved.” He apologizes, the words spewing from his mouth without another thought. "But he's right, it should've come from me- fuck." He had only cried like this one another time, after a long, frustrating day at school and he just broke down, burying himself in my arms. I know that his emotions are genuine, his shoulders shaking as his words slur together. “You deserve better than me.”

“I don’t care what I deserve. I want you.” I lean forward, capturing his bruised lips in mine as he hums contently. He pulls me impossibly close to him as we both cling to each other, this being the first time that anything substantial came between us and our relationship. “Just shut up with that shit, alright?” I ask, kissing his lips in quick pecks as he laughs, nodding softly.

“I haven’t taken anything in a week or two. I haven’t been able to get anything and I really didn’t feel like I needed it.” He explains, his eyes fluttering shut as his head thumps against the window. “I’m never going to stop apologizing for this- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you had to find out from Fez and that he used it against you. People who say ‘I told you so’ in the moments where they should be hugging you are the worst.” He huffs, a knowing laugh leaving my lips as my hands slide down his chest. “Why don’t we go back to my place and you can explain everything, huh? I’ll explain everything too.” He whispers, his chin tilting a bit to silently ask for a kiss. Giving him what he wants, my nose bumps against his with a giggle, my lips pressing against his.

A few hours later, Elliot flops down onto the bed next to me, his curly hair dripping. He had taken a shower, needing the comfort of the warm water. Naturally, I joined him, just wanting to be close to him, my ear pressed against his skin, listening to his heartbeat beneath his chest. His head turns to look at me, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes rake over my body. I had one of his t-shirts on, his eyes immediately locked on my bare legs.

“I’m not gonna try to sex you up right now considering the day that we’ve both had.” He chuckles, reaching over to pull me against him as I snicker.

I had told him about Custer and my past with him. Elliot’s jaw was tense the whole time at the mention of the random man threatening Ash right in front of me, knowing that the kid was my biggest weakness. I had told Elliot a while ago about Mouse, our issues with Laurie too. He was actually familiar with Laurie, buying from her a few times in the past. I had urged him to stay away from her from now on, especially now that he was involved with me. I explained a bit more about Faye, only explaining that she came to live with us but I never gave him a real reason why.

Not until today.

I explained, in depth, about Fez’s issues and concerns with our relationship. That he was just looking out for me but that he didn’t always do it in the best way. His protectiveness was a weapon instead of a tool, always trying to take care of an issue before an issue even came about. Him and Ash had that in common, though Ash was a bit more violent when it came to his protective style. I talked to Elliot about Ash, about how upset he looked when Fez and I started yelling. He felt bad, but I explained to him that it all would’ve gone down over something else if it wasn’t about my dating life.

Ashtray had left me a voicemail, leaving it moments after I left the house in tears. I knew that he was worried but I knew that I wouldn't be able to get through listening to his voice right now. That I would break down so I decided to not listen to it, just needing space and time.

“I just want you to know that you’re not going to scare me off.” I whisper, my lips pressing against Elliot’s bare chest as he nods, humming in acknowledgement. “I’ve been around scarier things. Drug raids, drugs, guns, people dying- what I’m saying is that I can take care of myself. That I can take care of you.” He rubs my back quietly, his fingers slipping under my shirt to rest on my bare hip.

“You’re pretty amazing.” He whispers, littering kisses against my forehead. “Do you just wanna relax?” He asks, my eyes growing heavy as I nod, my hands reaching up to rest on his chest. He knew that crying took a lot out of me, that anxiety and sobbing put me to bed faster than anything. “Oh, you’re sleepy.” He chuckles quietly, moving to pull the blankets over us. He doesn’t move, just lets me curl up into his chest without another word, wanting to stay as close to him as possible. My mind calms even more as my body relaxes into him, the hushed ‘I love you’ almost slipping by me.

Almost.

The sound of my phone buzzing loudly on the nightstand wakes me up abruptly, a groan leaving my lips as Elliot and I both stretch. He just shoves his face into his pillow, his back tensing as I roll away from him to take a look at my phone. Faye’s number spreads out across the screen, my eyes rolling in annoyance.

“It’s three in the goddamn morning, dumbass, what do you want-”

“I need you to listen to me.” She cuts me off, the urgency in her voice making my stomach drop as I sit up. She had never sounded this serious before, even explaining her concerns to me about Custer and his shady activities. The tone in her voice was dripping with worry, the sound making me nauseous.

Elliot follows closely behind me, his head resting on my shoulder to listen in.

“Custer is dead.” She explains too vaguely, bile rising in my throat as my mind immediately flickers to Ash. There's no way it wasn't him. “I was right, he was fucking up to something and I just spent the last five hours in an interrogation room explaining to the police that Fez and Ash had nothing to do with it. That we had nothing to do with it.” My lips part in a silent shock, turning to Elliot with wide eyes. He just shakes his head, his eyes hooded as he looks over me. His hand snakes around my waist, trying his best to comfort me but nothing could comfort me right now. “I need you to come to the hospital, I- uh- I don’t know what’s going on but they took Fez and Ash in the ambulance and there was a shootout.” She fumbles through her words, her voice completely and utterly broken as she whimpers. “The cops know about Mouse. I told them it was Laurie who killed him, hopefully taking Ash and Fez off the table. Ash killed Custer but I told the police that he went after Fez first and naturally Ash got scared.” I’m on my feet in a second, watching as Elliot fumbles to get his feet through the pants of his sweats. My mind barely even processes her words, the words going in one ear and out the other.

“Ash killed Custer?” I repeat, Elliot’s face dropping in shock, his eyes widening. He had known that Ash killed Mouse but the thought of Ash adding another body to his list, at only fifteen, is shocking to anyone. Anyone who didn’t know Ash. Faye just mumbles in return.

“He got shot- they both did. Fez was caught in the crossfire, Ash got spooked by the flash bang and started shooting. They fucking manhandled me.” She whines, a door closing in the distance. “Yeah can you take me…” Her voice fades out as my bottom lip wobbles, Elliot making his way over to my side of the bed to take my hands in his. His eyes flicker back and forth between mine, tears slipping down my cheeks as his face twists up in anguish.

“Let’s go, we’re gonna go see them.” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to my cheek. It helped that he could think for the both of us, taking all of the responsibility off of my shoulders.

“Faye, are they going to be okay?” I ask frantically, letting Elliot guide me out of his room and down the stairs.

“I don’t fucking know, Y/n.” She snaps but I knew that she was just as worried as I was. And her boyfriend that she didn’t even like was killed in front of her. “They took me directly to the station and didn’t even give me a chance to see them. I just saw Ash and he was awake.” She huffs and I can practically hear her heart beating through the phone. “Custer’s dead. Ash killed him. He stabbed him in the neck without a second thought.” She mumbles, probably gaining the attention of the taxi driver in the car with her. “I told the police that it was self defense-”

“You said that-”

“And Custer was on a call with the police officers while he was sitting there in the room with us. Once you left, he pulled me over to him and told me to be cool and that I would end up fine.” She cries, my heart breaking as Elliot opens the door for me, sending me a sad smile as I slip down into the seat. “But then I saw the look on Ash’s face- I knew that he knew- so I broke a glass and I told Fez to shut the fuck up. At that point, Custer was already dead and Fez was fucking furious.” I gasp, my hand reaching up to cover my eyes as Elliot turns the car on. His hand is tightly holding mine, my whole body relaxing a bit at his touch. “And then all of a sudden, Ash was down the fucking hall grabbing guns and Fez was yelling at him just to fucking stop- he should’ve just fucking stopped. He was so scared, he was crying and I couldn’t move. I was just listening to the fucking cops remove the door from it’s hinges.” My arms ache to wrap around her, needing to hug her. She had been through enough at Custer's hand, this was the last thing the both of us deserved. “I just heard Fez yelling ‘he’s a kid, he’s a kid’ over and over again to the cops. I thought Ash was dead, Y/n. I don’t know how the fuck he didn’t die. He shot a fucking police officer but when I talked to the lady at the station she said that it could be a three year sentence and then his case could be evaluated at eighteen. I tried to get all the info I could, I'm sorry.” My mind is swimming with her stuttered words, her apology barely recognized in my ear as I become overwhelmingly dizzy.

"Ash killed a cop."

"Custer’s dead."

"Ash killed him"

"I thought Ash was dead."

“Please just stay on the line until we get there. Please.” I beg, my eyes fluttering shut as I cry, needing to just see my brothers and Faye, Elliot by my side; my only family. I needed them both to be okay, I wouldn’t survive if I wasn’t allowed to fix things with Fez and hug my younger brother, to tell him that nothing was going to hurt him ever again.

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Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson

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Elliot Taglist: @vintagebitc @kaitieskidmore1@gyros-cum-sock @adashipsjegulus

[rumblelibrary]

Okay this may sound like an oddly detailed request but can you do a Laszlo x reader where Laszlo has been courting the reader for a while and has never met her father, because her father is dead or abandoned her at a young age or something like that and she never told Laszlo, but Laszlo is instant on meeting him for some reason or something like that?

Sorry if thats a weird request

Unofficial Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: a bit angsty, mention of old fashioned ideas

Author’s note: I hope you will like it and I respected your wishes <3

"Miss?"

The voice of your chamber maid called you distracting you from answering some correspondence.

"Yes?"

She smiled so widely as a bouquet of white roses and peonies was presented in front of you. She giggled as she was just so happy for you. You have been courted by Dr Laszlo Kreizler for some time now, but he never missed to send you flowers on a Saturday morning, it was his ritual since you two became serious.

"Those are so beautiful, miss"

She said excitedly before leaving you to read the note, she was probably living the romance through you which was quite weird but cute to witness.

You opened the card, Laszlo usually was a brief but intense poet, but this time the message was clear. Can I tempt you with a lunch at Delmonico's?

You frowned lightly before looking out of your window, his dark clothing making him strikingly visible in the greenery of the park in front of your house, he raised his hat for you and smiled.

Damn him and his top level courting.

You put your letters away and got ready spraying some perfume on you before going out, your maid helping you with your coat and hat.

When you stepped out of the front Door Laszlo was waiting in front of your gate.

"You could have called"

He smirked at you "it wouldn't have been a surprise" he concluded simply.

You smirked as it was true and you have also learned to admire the extent of Laszlo'd courtship. He was attentive and respectful, he knew when to trace a line to forbid any kind of bad talks. He was already famous for being a maverick and he didn't want to put that stigma on you too.

You obliged him as you walked your way together to the restaurant, he never failed to ask you about your day and your plans. he was very attentive and you reserved him the same tenderness asking him about his patients or latest articles.

Once you arrived at the restaurant you were brought to one of the best tables, Laszlo taking upon himself the honour to move your chair back behind you and then back toward you for you to sit comfortably.

"Thank you Laszlo"

He smiled proudly taking it as a compliment, but he looked rather stiff and tense for his usual mannerism toward you.

Once you ordered your meal he toyed with his glass of wine a bit attracting inevitably your attention.

"What is wrong?"

He looked at you surprised by your question, but he smiled because you sort of alleviated him from the weight of beginning what he wanted to ask.

"I was just wondering when I will be able to meet your father" he said just as directly as your question was "I met your grandmother and your uncles and aunts, I am missing somebody"

He said it quite easily as your mother had left this earth early for the standard and you regret she won't be able to see what an amazing man you met.

"You don't need to meet him"

He stared at you puzzled, what really concerned him wasn't your refusal, but more the hardness you showed into expressing it.

"I think I do"

You glared at him, your conversation briefly interrupted by the waiters landing the plates in front of the two of you.

He thanked them before looking back at you, your stern look still there.

You had discussions before but never of this size and also as much as he tried before to hint the theme of your father he wasn't acknowledged at all.

He also noticed how the rest of your family followed that same guideline, acting like they found you under a tree.

"I think it is something I have to do sooner or later"

You glared at him again.

"Stop it"

It was hard for him to stop. He was already launched on the theme and he was worse than a wild animal when he got fixated over a theme in particular.

You pushed some common ground theme while you ate. Like John or Sara's agency or other mundane things, but you hated to see the intensity in his look.

That question over and over into his mind.

You never hated to be with him as much as you did now.

You declined the offer of a dessert pretty quickly just wanting to go away.

Laszlo obliged and lead you back outside escorting you to your place.

"I don't mean to be invasive.."

"But you're" you confirmed to him "thank you for the lunch, I can walk myself home on my own”

You left him there moving after your house's gate.

He stood there biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You didn't contact him any further on that day or the ones that followed, to be honest you avoided him and his flowers and attentions. You even stayed at home instead of attending places you were supposed to be, but where he also might find you.

Until your grandmother called you and you furiously ordered your maid to call the doctor and make him come at your place.

He arrived quicker than you expected. He was worried something happened, maybe you were ill and nobody told him.

When your maid showed him the way to your study and closed the door behind him he tried immediately to politely ask you about your state but your eyes burned holes like bullets in him.

“How dare you?” You growled at him. He stood still in front of you, his back straight even if you didn’t fail to notice the frown on his forehead.

“How dare you to call my grandmother? To ask her something I specifically told you I don’t want to share or talk or even mention? What is s hard about it? What makes you rightful to come bashing into my life asking for answers? “Y/N”

“No, no Y/N, you doctor, should learn to put a line between when you’re an alienist and when you’re a decent human being” you were being extra hard on him, but just earring your grandmother worried voice was enough to make you snap his neck.

He took your rage like a champion, even if he clearly was suffering it.

“Why is so important Laszlo? Why to see your mind at ease? It is just a man, somebody that doesn’t belong to my life, why you have to push it? Why you always have to push it?” “I just hoped..” “Hoped what? Hoped that a man that abandoned a pregnant woman while courting her was worth my time and thoughts? That I need to share my own life with somebody that wasn’t there? That never asked to meet me, or even see the woman he swore to every wind that he loved? That put my mother in the position of being considered a whore? How my grandma had to pretend I was hers to try give my mother a good shot at life?”

All those truths hit Laszlo like a bag of bricks, he was overwhelmed and saddened. Those situations were the ugliest in those times. Women always paying off the debts of the lust of men. The simple promise of a marriage just to gain something that could be tasted forever with a little more of wait. Just the human need to break a rule, just one, that revolutionary feeling that only losers at heart have. Because nobody makes a revolution over the expenses of a loved one.

“I had no idea” he concluded

“I hope you are satisfied now, your scientific mind has now all the puzzle pieces, now leave and let my family alone”

You could see his shoulders fall as you said that to him, his face paling in fear and sadness. He pressed his lips tight against each other, his jaw hurting as he didn’t know if at this point was really worth it to explain why he insisted so much. He ruined it, he tried to treat you with the white gloves and instead he hurt you even more.

“I apologise” he said staring at you, you letting him speak for the first time “I never meant to put you in such a position, I really just meant to be close to your family and I couldn’t see the fault in my own desires”

He admitted it but you didn’t wince, he crossed the line, he went too far and he needed to learn to respect the limits of others, not everyone needed to be under his care.

“I said you may leave”

He looked out of your window searching for words. Your anger was waving down as he looked so upset, and he should be.

“I am also a victim of our society in my own means, even if my behaviour is not excusable in any way, I stupidly fixated on the idea of doing things right with you and some things… Well, they teach us boys some things have to be asked to a father first”

You looked at him with a frown, you shook lightly your head as you didn’t understand his point and you were five seconds away from throwing him the vase with the latest flowers he sent you when you looked at him pul out a little velvet box from his inner pocket.

“The times are modern now, it was silly of me to try move past you like that” he leaned the box on your desk. He nodded at you respectfully leaving. You were left alone with that little box, you stared at it for a moment before moving closer to it.

You looked out of the window as you heard the gates closing and you watched Laszlo’s figure walk away.

Your eyes darted from his back to the box in front of you slowly opening it to find the ring of the dreams of any girl.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop. 

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

                                                         ***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”  

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

[attllhak]

@technicallya1manband so, I just remembered that while I was camping I wrote another thing for the Gerudo Twilight AU. Specifically, I have a lot of fun with ‘The Unreliable Narrator That Is History’ (putting this like that, because I basically use it as a trope at this point), and I got bored one afternoon while hiding from the sun because it is HOT out, especially where I was. And then I thought I should probably have Twilight appear, so it kinda ended up ‘Expectation vs Reality’ by the end. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, I’m off to bed now

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

“You look upset,”

Zelda startled, twisting to see Urbosa standing in the doorway behind her. The Champions had only just been dubbed as such, and Zelda had wanted to get away from the celebrations.

“I’m not,” she lied, turning back to face the sky.

Urbosa sighed, and after a moment she settled down next to Zelda.

“Little bird, you do not have to lie to me,”

“I know,” she sighed, not bothering to defend herself. “I just, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. My power won’t awaken, no matter what I do, and I just, I can’t live up to the expectations everyone has set for me. My mother unlocked her power so easily, and my grandmother did too. Why is it just me that can’t do this?”

“Zelda,” Urbosa wound an arm around her shoulders and pulled the younger girl to her side. “You need to stop comparing yourself to them. You aren’t them, and your power will awaken for you when you are ready,”

“But I’ve been ready!” Zelda threw out her hands. “And it’s not that easy to just, not compare! I know you wouldn’t understand that, but I just,” she put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do,”

“Wouldn’t understand, eh?”

Zelda peeked up through her fingers as Urbosa leaned back on her hands. 

“Would you let me tell you a story, little bird?”

“A, story?”

“It has a moral,” Urbosa promised. “And I think you’ll like it,”

“Okay,” Zelda folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me a story,”

“This is an old story, very, very old. Almost, but not quite, as old as the gerudo ourselves. Back when Ganon took the form of a gerudo voe,”

“Seriously?” Zelda twisted to face Urbosa, eyes wide. “That is old,”

“Indeed,” Urbosa smiled. “The man that would become the monster Ganon had been king for only a few years when the Hero of that era defeated him. I won’t go into the details, as they get confusing, and this story is not about them. After he was defeated, Ganon was sentenced to death. He was not successfully killed, but that is also a tale for another time. What I wish to speak of is the aftermath,”

“Why start with Ganon when you’re talking about something after him?” Zelda huffed.

“Because, little bird, Ganon’s defeat left the gerudo without a king. I know it may not seem this way now, with how long it’s been since the gerudo had a king last, but this was the first time we were without so much as a prince. Not to mention the hatred we faced for our King’s actions,” Urbosa frowned, looking off into the distance. “The hylian crown was not kind to my people in the aftermath of Ganon’s defeat. We were chased even further out into the desert, and we struggled there for a long, long time. For almost a hundred years, we were without a king, and so we elected the first chief, to rule until a new king was born,”

“I’m so sorry,” Zelda frowned, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Do not apologize, little bird. It happened so long ago, and things have changed so much,” Urbosa pulled her in again. “Besides, the hylians also gave us our next king,”

“What?”

Both women turned to see the other Champions hovering in the doorway, though thankfully it seemed Zelda’s new knight was not among them.

“Sorry about that, highnesses,” Daruk mumbled, giving Revali a sharp look. “The King asked us to come find you, but we were kinda invested in the story,”

“I don’t mind telling you as well,” Urbosa turned to Zelda. “How about it? Can they join us?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course!” Zelda floundered, waving them out. “Please, take a seat,”

They filed in and sat around the two, and everyone turned back to Urbosa.

“Right, where was I?”

“A hylian king,” Revali said, looked a bit affronted on the gerudo’s behalf.

“He wasn’t hylian,” she corrected. “Well, I suppose that isn’t totally true. He definitely looked hylian, but he was gerudo. One of the girls who was alive when Ganon ruled had seen the writing on the wall and hid her daughter with the girl’s hylian father. This girl later married a hylian man herself and her daughter, it is said, moved very far away. Out into the middle of nowhere. She had a daughter herself, and this daughter had a son,”

“The King,” Zelda guessed.

“Yes, the King,” Urbosa smiled. “He didn’t know that though. His mother died when he was very young, and he did not return to the desert until he was already mostly grown. But, he did eventually return to us. I’m not sure how we knew he was our king, but there was no doubt at all by the time he was crowned. Of course, he was not in an easy spot. We were still suffering from the aftermath of Ganon’s rule, and he had very little time to prepare for his new role,” she paused to smile. “Which makes his achievements all that much more impressive,”

“You put an incompetent king on a throne vacated by the monster we’re getting ready to fight, and you expect us to believe he did well?” Revali huffed.

“No,” Urbosa said. “I expect you to believe we have never had a better ruler, either king or chief, after him,”

“What did he do?” Zelda asked while the others convinced Revali to stop squawking.

“Firstly, he repaired relations with the rest of Hyrule. Hylian - gerudo relations have only ever been better when your own mother was queen. Apparently he already knew the Queen at the time, and the two spent several days coming to an agreement that ended with all of the desert, and the highlands, being gerudo territory, so long as we remained a vassal state under Hyrule. After that, he is noted as having brought our people back to prosperity,”

“One king did all that?” Mipha asked.

“Yes,” Urbosa smiled. “At the time of Ganon’s rule, the gerudo were thieves. It was his gentle pushing that caused the change into a people of merchants. It is said that the first gerudo jeweller began her trade at the encouragement of the King. She was not the only one to have been encouraged by the King, of course. You know, the reason all gerudo chiefs have our own sand seals is because of him,”

“Really?” Zelda asked, thinking of Urbosa's own sand seal back in Gerudo Town.

“Oh yes, he loved animals,” she laughed. “It is said his pride and joy was a horse he’d raised from a foal that he never travelled outside of the desert without, and he even brought a goat with him into the desert,”

“A goat?” Zelda blanched.

“A goat,” Urbosa nodded. “One of the vai had an idea, to use the sand seals native to the desert as transportation. She decided to prove the worth of this idea, as it was still relatively unheard of for gerudo to be anything but warriors, by catching and taming one first. Once she had, she brought the animal to the King and offered it as a gift,” Urbosa smiled, shaking her head. “The King adored this idea, and loved his newest pet. He was very personally involved in the beginnings of the project, and encouraged the vai who had the idea when she suggested renting them out for people to use to cross the desert. The stories say that if the King was in gerudo town and couldn’t be found in the palace, then he’d be found with the seals,”

Zelda couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“My sword and shield are based on his, you know,”

“What?”

“Gerudo kings, before him, all fought with a pair of twin swords. However, when he arrived he already had a decent grasp of swordplay. Only he fought with a single sword and a shield. He was gifted a set at his coronation, and ever since then the leader of the gerudo fought with a sword and shield. I had mine made to look like the pictures we have of his,”

“That’s actually kind of sweet, in a way,” Zelda mused.

“What do you call him?”

“Hm?” Urbosa turned at Revali’s question.

“Don’t you gerudo give your kings fancy titles?” Revali elaborated. “What do you call this king?”

“Probably the Seal King,” Daruk suggested.

“Please!” Revali rolled his eyes.

“What do you think he’s called then?” Zelda asked.

“Well, I would have called him the Hero King,”

“What about the Merchant King?” Mipha suggested.

“Little bird?” Urbosa prompted. “Do you have a guess?”

“Um,” Zelda thought on that. “Perhaps, the Healing King? Since, he’s the one who got you back to a good point,”

“All very good guesses,” Urbosa smiled. “All wrong. We call him the Wolf King,”

“Wolf King?” More than a few of them echoed back.

“Yes,” Urbosa nodded. “Fierce and feral like a beast to enemies, but to allies, there is none more loyal or dedicated,” she sighed, looking wistfully at the now setting sun. “If given the chance to meet any individual from Hyrule’s history, I would want to meet him. To ask for his advice on matters, to let him see what he’s done for our people. I just hope that I will be able to be even half the leader he was,”

“You already are,” Zelda said softly.

Urbosa turned to her, and smiled. “Little bird, that means more to me than you know,”

(---)

“Princess?”

Zelda turned to see Chief Riju approach her where she stood on the balcony overlooking Gerudo Town.

“Oh, Chief Riju, my apologies,” Zelda dipped her head, an embarrassed pink making its way up her neck and onto her cheeks. “I didn’t, if I’m in the way,”

“You aren’t,” Chief Riju shook her head. “And please, just Riju,”

Zelda nodded, still a bit embarrassed, and the two looked out over the town together in silence for a moment.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” Riju asked.

“Just, thinking about Urbosa’s legacy,” Zelda admitted.

“Oh?”

“She told me a story once, about an old gerudo king. The Wolf King. She said she had wanted to be even half as good as he was,”

“She succeeded,” Riju told her. “At least, in my opinion,”

“No, you’re right,” Zelda shook her head, smiling. “I just hope she knows that, is all. Knows that she was able to leave a big enough positive impact that she succeeded in her goal,”

Riju set a hand on Zelda’s arm. “I do too,”

Neither girl said another word.

(---)

Zelda felt a bit like screaming, if she was completely honest.

Link, Wild, whatever he was calling himself, had gotten sucked away on some magic time travelling quest with other Heroes, and now he was introducing her to his mentor, the Hero of Twilight.

A Hero, who it turns out was also the Wolf King.

He was shorter than Zelda had pictured him, and you would never know he was the gerudo king by his appearance. He definitely looked the part of a wolf, though.

But here he was, holding out the original sword and shield that Urbosa’s were based on. There were differences, obviously, but the smith who made the Scimitar of the Seven and Daybreaker had done a very good job replicating them.

“Are we done now, Cub?” The King, Twilight, sighed.

He didn’t seem to be very invested in his role as king, which contrasted Urbosa’s description of him as ‘dedicated’. In fact, it seemed like he wanted to stop talking about it as quickly as possible.

“Almost,” Link nodded. He turned to Zelda and waved his hands at Twilight. “See? I told you I got to meet him!”

“What?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, uh, pardon us, Your Highness,” Zelda gave him a half bow, and noted the way his face scrunched up. “It’s just, my good friend Urbosa had told me about you a long time ago. She looked up to you and your legacy, and so I’ve also, sort of, admired you. I, I never thought I’d actually get to meet you,”

Oh, Urbosa should be here, Zelda thought. She had wanted to meet him,

“Right,” he said slowly, tucking the sword and shield back in his bag. “Uh, thanks?”

“You, don’t seem very invested in your kingship,” Zelda noted.

“May I be completely honest with you, Your Highness?”

“Of course,” she firmly tamped down the excitement in her chest.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,”

“What?”

That definitely didn’t sound like the king Urbosa told her about.

“I grew up on a ranch,” he explained. “I herd goats. I barely knew what I was doing when I became the Hero. And now I find out I’m supposed to be a king? My village had a mayor, and he taught me how to wrestle gorons. Because he used to wrestle gorons. I don’t know how many kings can wrestle gorons,”

“At least one,” Link offered.

“Not helping,” Twilight shot him a halfhearted glare. He turned back to her and sighed. “Look, I’m sure there’s some reason you and Urbosa admired me, but I have no idea what that could possibly be. I’m impressed I haven’t screwed anything up too badly yet. So, it’s not that I’m not invested, I’m stuck in the position so I may as well actually try and do well, it’s just, I’m sort of riding blind here. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’d really rather not talk about it,”

“Oh,” Zelda blinked. “I, suppose that makes sense. My apologies, I’ll try to refrain from bringing it up. I hadn’t intended to make you uncomfortable,”

“You didn’t,” he sighed, and Zelda felt a bit relieved. “And, thanks. It’s just, a whole headache for me,”

“I believe I understand the feeling, Your Majesty,”

“No, stop,”

“Stop?”

“No ‘Your Majesty’. No ‘King Link’, no royal titles at all. I am Link Ordon, the goat herd,” he frowned deeply. “I will accept ‘Hero’ if you must, but I,” he sighed in what seemed like defeat. “Please, just call me Twilight,”

“Of course, Twilight,”

“Thank you,”

Zelda wasn’t sure if the fact that Urbosa’s idol had no clue what he was doing would have made her friend feel any better, but it did boost Zelda’s confidence about the monumental task in front of her.

It was just a pity she wouldn’t be able to get any tips from him.

Although, apparently Hyrule’s first king was also among Links’s travelling companions. Maybe she could ask him for advice...

[scarlettscribbles]

she used to be mine

- Anthony Bridgerton & TwinSister!Reader

Tags: 4k words - 3rd person POV, sibling fluff, family fluff, Anthony/Siena (not the main focus), Anthony is a soft boi when it comes to you (the softest, in fact), mourning

Warning/s: a bit spicy at the beginning, mild injury, mention of blood, major character death

Summary: A question from Siena about love sends Anthony into the past; making him recall his memories of a sister long loved, but never forgotten. A story told in moments. 

a/n: don’t mind me, just manifesting my angst and bridgerton needs >> titles from waitress the musical

i. it’s not simple to say

“What do you think about love?” 

“Love? What’s this all of a sudden?” Anthony laughed. He captured between his hands Siena’s own and kissed it playfully, making her giggle. “What do I think about it, well. I love kissing you, touching you-” he planted a soft kiss on her collarbone as his hands trailed down her abdomen. “I love--”

“Okay, no stop. That is not what I meant at all!” Siena stilled his wandering hands, laughing. She snuggled closer until they were chest to chest. “Love with your friends, family,...women.” she waggled her brows at the last word.

“Women, hah.” Anthony cast his eyes upward. “The only women I’ve ever loved are my mother and five sisters.”

“You mean four.”

“What?”

“You have four sisters: Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth if memory serves correctly. Unless your mother’s pregnant, which I believe is unlikely. My lord, did you perhaps miscount?” Siena teased. 

“No, no.” he waved his hand, chuckling. “She…”

ii. i still remember that girl

She was born 9 minutes before him; the eldest Bridgerton. This was a fact she liked lording over him teasingly. She won many arguments by simply stating “I am the eldest Bridgerton and therefore…” 

Sometimes he could still hear her say it in his head. 

“Remind me why I’m accompanying you again?”

“Because I am your older sister and--”

“I should always agree to what you’re saying, blah blah. Oh this is so crowded! Why could you not just send a maid to fetch the book?”

“Well what’s the fun in that? Come on Tony, you’re being too slow! It will be nighttime when we arrive there and the book I wanted will be gone!” she moaned miserably, turning around and tugging on his hand to encourage him to make haste.

“You and your dramatics. Why is this book so important anyway?”

“It simply is. I need it for when I become the Viscountess.” she smiled at him, chin jutting out proudly. “I can’t wait to get Papa’s watch. I will get it right, as Viscountess? He will pass it onto me along with the title.”

“Uh no he won’t. I am the heir in case you have forgotten, sister.”

“But I am the oldest. We might be both 10 but I am 9 minutes older than you.” she argued, waving her pointer finger at him. 

“Yes, yes you’ve said that like a million times now! But you’re a girl, so you can’t. You shall marry some guy, not that there are any worth marrying. Why just the today I saw the son of that family I cannot remember for the life of me, doing something horrendous! I think it would be better for you to stay away from any and all men.” Anthony paused, realizing that he was - or is soon going to be - one of those men. “Except for me and Papa, of course.”

She merely looked at him in amusement. “Pish posh.” his twin huffed, eyes glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not going to exchange my ambitions for some mere man. You shall see Tony, I will have that watch. Now come on!” she dropped his hand and gathered her skirts, ducking and maneuvering between the throng of people. Anthony felt a tinge of panic, seeing his sister slowly becoming engulfed by the crowd. 

“Sister wait!” he started to chase after her. He saw the blue tail-end of her skirt when someone bumped into him. He whirled around to complain to whoever it was; however, he seemed to have miscalculated the strength of his spin and tripped, landing on his bottom. “Ow, hey watch it!” he shouted at the people who accidentally kicked him, not noticing his figure on the ground.

Anthony hissed as he dusted his pants. He examined the palm of his hand and noticed scratches from when he landed too roughly on the floor. There were spots of red slowly making its way down his hand, along with drops of water.

Oh. He was crying. 

“Where are you?” his voice warbled. “Sister…”

Has she left him, truly? Surely not. His twin is many things but never cruel. She was tenacious, smart, and…

“Tony! I let you out of my sight for a second and - goodness!” She ran over and knelt in front of him, glaring at the people who would come too close. They parted for her, giving them a wide berth. “Here, take my handkerchief. We should get home and wash your hands. We don’t want it to be infected. And your clothes are a mess, Mama is going to have a fit. Come now,”

“But your book?” he sniffed.

“Eh, I can get it some other time.” she smiled and patted his cheeks. “Don’t cry now, sister’s got you.”

...kind. She was kind.  

iii. reckless just enough

Anthony was sulking. Not that he’d let anyone know. Papa had gotten angry with him. It wasn’t even a big thing. He simply...borrowed his watch to look at it. Anthony thought maybe he could figure out what made his twin so interested in it. It was a plain thing, nothing special maybe besides the monogram. He didn’t mean to drop it from the stairs. He really didn’t. He heard his name being called for lunch and he jolted.

He got a dressing down from Papa with his siblings present; Benedict and Colin in particular snickering at his plight. It was embarrassing. As soon as Papa dismissed him, he ran for his room, ignoring the calls of his twin. 

Right now he was hidden beneath the curtains and behind his bookshelf. Did Papa really have to scold him at the lunch table? Anthony buried his face between his hands. 

“You didn’t eat.”

Anthony banged his head on the wall when he looked up too fast.

“Are you okay?” his twin asked him, smiling amusedly. She carried with her a plate with bread, cheese, ham and a slice of blueberry pie. 

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Laughing and smiling are worlds apart, Tony.” she shook her head and sat beside him, nudging him insistently until they were shoulder to shoulder. She slid the plate from her lap to his. “Eat.”

Anthony looked at her blankly. “Are you so distraught that you cannot eat? Do you want me to hand feed you like a child?” She made a motion as if she was going to grab the plate but Anthony shooed her hands away.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.” he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Please swallow before you talk.” she said. “And, this is your room Tony. I’m simply using common sense.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Anthony picked up the ham and cheese and continued eating. For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence.

“It’s unfair.” Anthony said, breaking the silence. 

“What is?”

“Papa.”

“How come?”

“He was way too angry. I didn’t mean to drop his watch! And it wasn’t even broken. If it was, he could’ve repaired it easily.” he pouted.

“You could’ve also just asked him to look at it. You know, in his room. Where you can’t drop it from a height and possibly damage it.” she replied with a bit of sarcasm.

“Fine, yes, I could have.” he conceded. “I just don’t know why he was so angry.”

“It’s important to him.”

“It’s just a watch.” Anthony rebutted, pouting. His twin gave him a look that he knew meant “you look adorable but also stupid.”

“Nah.”

“No?”

“Nope.” she answered. “For one, it’s an heirloom. Heirloom is defined as -”

“I know what it means.” Anthony waved his hand. “Do go on.”

She gave him a faintly annoyed look which merely made him smirk. “I shall, and not because you told me to.” she cleared her throat. “The watch being an heirloom is just its value as a thing. There’s also the sentimental value. The memories and emotions attached to the watch. For Papa, he treasures it because it - probably - reminds him of grandfather and grandmother. Grandfather especially. Because he was the one to give the Papa the rights and responsibility for our family.”

“Is that why?”

“Why what?”

“I wanted to know what makes it so special for you.” Anthony shrugged. “You always talk about it, about getting the watch when we become older. I didn’t see the big deal. Is that why it’s so important to you too?”

“Yes, quite.” she answered. “I want to take care of our family, Tony. I know I can, I just do. I don’t want me to just be a wife. I’m meant for greater things. Also,” she grinned at him. “I want it so I could count down the seconds until I see you again.” 

Anthony fake gagged, pretending to chuck the bread and cheese onto his twins’ lap. His twin scrambled away far from him and yelped. “You are disgusting! Mama! Anthony ruined the new dress that we just got!”

“I did not!”

“You were about to!”

iv. i was never attention’s sweet center

It was just a stupid, off-hand comment from Benedict. Anthony knew his brother meant no harm but still, the comment hurt.

“Maybe she truly should have your title, brother.”

Anthony was no stranger to her loud and obvious wanting to inherit the head of the house. In fact, he supported his twin. If Papa permitted it, he would gladly concede to you. However, it was unspoken between the twins the knowledge that Papa would never agree to such a thing; no matter how much he loved his eldest daughter. 

Anthony was no stranger to her excellence either. While the both of them worked hard to set an example for their younger siblings. He always thought she was great at everything a girl should be and more. Though the ‘more’ part would never reach the ears of their mother or anybody else. Nobody should know that Anthony taught her how to sucker punch anybody that vexed her except maybe Benedict and Colin...also Eloise. That girl was far too curious and also far too attached to Benedict. Anthony thinks in the privacy of his mind that if she were a boy, there would be no quarrel that she’d get the title.

Other people also thought the same. Though they expressed it in a much less pleasant way, in words Anthony does not care for. They speak condescendingly. They speak of her gender with pity in their voices, their admiration twisted. They mention that her excellence should be toned down, that she should focus instead on things better suited to her. They speak of how inadequate Anthony is, how poor that a boy be overshadowed by a girl. They theorize how Anthony must hate her for taking all the spotlight. He hears all this, and she does too, seeing as they’re almost always attached at the hip. If it bothers her, she does not speak of it. 

They speak of lies. Anthony thinks that her abilities suit her as they are and that no matter how bright she shines, it would never be something to be upset over. He basked in her light. They are wrong for thinking that she’s taking a piece of his life away when in truth, she completes it. Best friends, twins, soulmates; he loves her and she loves him. Still, their words leave a mark.

So when Benedict said that albeit in a teasing manner, Anthony just ran away. As he got older, he found it the preferable way to escape his problems. If he could not run to her then he must run away. 

Anthony hugged himself as a strong breeze blew and made the unoccupied swing beside him rock.

“Tony.” And there she was. His twin was holding a book. She sat at the swing beside him. 

There was silence. The only thing he could hear were the wind, the scuffling of his feet, and the soft sound of her flipping the pages.

“Sister,” she did not look up from the book but she hummed, signifying that he was heard. “Why did you come out here? It’s better to read inside, surely.”

“You’re upset. Of course I would come.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Did Ben tattle?”

“Ben? Tattle? His mouth is tighter than a woman’s corset when it comes to secrets.” she laughed lightly. “Surely you know better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” he smiled. Since they were little, even if they were distances apart, both of them would always know - or at least had an inkling of - what the other was feeling. During their early years they chalked it up to magic but now they both just conceded it as a twin thing. “Actually, I don’t. Know better, I mean. Everybody seems to think so. Am I inadequate, sister? Dumb perhaps? I feel like I cannot do anything right sometimes! Compared to you I - “

His twin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tony.” her brows were drawn and her lips pursed. “First of all, there is no comparison brother. I am me and you are your wonderful self. We are both excellent, please do not doubt yourself of that no matter what anyone says. And I know they say a lot. I’m just so used to tuning them out that I never considered that you might not do the same. I’m sorry.”

She stood up and drew him into a hug. Anthony’s arms stayed limp at his side. “People will flap their mouths because that’s what they do; say their opinions even though it’s unwelcome. If we tried to stop every single one of them, why I believe it’ll take all our lifetime and more!” she chuckled. “We cannot change them so we must change how much we’ll let their words affect us. Their words don’t matter at all! If I could, then I would shove those words back up their mouth and let them swallow it. Which I don’t know how to do. D’you suppose punching them would work just as well?” Anthony laughed wetly at her quip. It would work but it would also involve somebody calling Mama and Papa for her ‘inappropriate behavior’.

“What I know is this.” she grasped his shoulders and held them so she could stare at him in the eyes. Anthony met her determined gaze head-on. “You’re good enough Tony. Hell, you’re excellent.”

Anthony sobbed and quickly drew her into a fierce hug, his tears surely wetting her dress but he knew she didn't mind. “That is as sure as the sun that rises in the east. As sure as our family’s love, and ours for each other.”

v. bring back the fire in her eyes

It started with a cold. She had stayed up too long outside and now she’s bed-ridden. Anthony crossed his arms at the corner of the room as his younger siblings ran around. In his opinion there was too much ruckus for her to properly rest. However, Mama brought it up earlier and his twin just waved her concern away, stating that some liveliness will do her good. And who was Anthony to go against the wishes of his dear sister? It doesn’t mean that he has to like it though.

“No you’re the troll!” Eloise insisted.

“I was the troll last round!” Colin argued back.

“Now, now,” Benedict placated them both, then he glanced at Anthony in a way that promised mischief. “Why don’t we let Anthony be the troll then? He certainly looks the part with how grouchy he is.”

Daphne giggled. “And how he’s guarding his corner.”

“And how horrendous his face looks!” added Eloise. 

Now he’s had enough. “You all look far too happy for someone who’s going to be troll food soon.”

“Troll wuh - AAH!” Eloise screamed as Anthony lunged at her. She took off with a sprint and soon the other Bridgertons followed as well, laughing boisterously. “Noo, Ben save me!”

“This is survival of the fittest -”

“Survival of the fittest your face!”

“Ehem.” Suddenly all motion stopped. Colin face-planted on the floor, caught by his momentum. All eyes went to the door where Violet Bridgerton stood along with a maid. She had a smile on her face coupled with a vaguely exasperated expression. “I’m glad you’re having fun but please take you playing outside. I need to tend to your sick sister.”

Various moans and complaints filled the room but only with a raise of their Mama’s brow, they filed outside the room, murmuring farewells and well wishes to the sole occupant of the bed. All except one. Anthony remained rooted at the side of his sister’s bed.

“Anthony, please.” Violet gently said. A complaint was on the tip of his tongue when a hand laid on his bicep. He looked at his sister, looking frail among the covers but she merely smiled and shook her head.

“I’ll be fine Tony.” she said. “Go and check that our siblings haven’t set the house ablaze or anything.”

For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. A silent conversation passing between them both. Anthony sighed. “Get well.” he bent over to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not sure I alone will be enough to stop them from doing that.”

She laughed. “You will be.”

vi. sometimes life just slips

It was only supposed to be a cold. A cold. 

Someone almost barreled through Anthony as he, Benedict, Colin came through the door. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as the maid said a rushed apology. Everyone in the house seemed to be in a mad dash. He exchanged looks with his brothers, who were as clueless as he.

“Anthony!” came the panicked voice of Eloise. He held her shoulders and looked over her for any harm of some sort that caused her to panic.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Anthony was surprised to see her looking up at him with teary eyes. Eloise is looking at him like how she used to when she was much littler, pleading to Anthony. Believing with all her might that her older brother will make everything okay. He looked behind her to Daphne who was pursing her lips.

“Oh God, is someone dead?” Colin quipped, then promptly made a punched-out  noise as Benedict elbowed him.

“Sister, she - “

“She’s dead?!” Colin cried.

“No!” Daphne growled, irritated. “She’s just...in pain. Mama and Papa sent for doctors.”

“Goodness, how serious is this cold? - Anthony, wait!”

Anthony didn’t hear Benedict’s call. How could he over the thumping of his racing heartbeat? He ran upstairs like the devil was on his tail, and even then he felt like he was too slow. He paused at her door, psyching himself to open it. If he went in, what would he see? He raised his trembling hands, the complaints of his siblings nothing but a faint echo.

The doors burst open and out came two elderly men and one woman. The siblings crowded around them. Anthony could only hear snippets as he zeroed in on you. Mama was kneeling beside his twin’s bed, holding her daughter’s hand tight to her chest.

“The young miss will be fine -”

“We expect her fever to break -”

“Dear.” Anthony jumped, startled. The woman accompanying the doctors addressed him. “Are you okay?”

“My - my twin sister, will she be alright?”

“Twin, huh. That’s why you’re so distraught. Well all of you are but you in particular,” she shook her head and smiled. “Your sister is strong. She will be fine. You can go in. I’m sure she’ll be glad for your company.”

She need not say it twice. Anthony ran into the room.

“Sister.”

“Tony.”

He felt like he could breathe again.

vii. rewrite an ending or two

“Are you sure you don’t want to get up here? We shared a bed when we were little. And when we grew, sometimes.” she paused, thinking about her statement. “Often.” his twin amended.

Anthony hummed when she stopped running her hands through his hair. “No.”

“The ground is cold, Tony. You might get sick.”

“How could I? You already took all the sick with you.” Anthony grumbled. “I’m fine, sister.”

“If you say so.”

“How about you?” Anthony asked. 

“Hmm?” she smiled. Facing down and in the darkness, Anthony couldn’t have seen it but he felt it. “I believe I will be.”

viii. she is gone, but she used to be mine

 It was a miserable day in spring when the eldest Bridgerton was buried.

ix. most days i don’t recognize me 

“She…” Anthony clenched his jaw.

“Are you ever going to finish that sentence?” Siena asked, smiling until she noticed how tense he was. She reached out to touch his arm, inquiring, “My lord, are you alright?”

Anthony sniffed and quickly stood up, hastily picking up his clothes. “Yes, fine.” he answered, hopping on one foot to put his shoes on. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Siena asked. Anthony barely spared a glance at her, pausing shortly halfway out the door. He checked his watch, eyes glazing over for a moment.

“I need - I’m needed. At home.” With that, he briskly walked outside and into his carriage. It was today. He must’ve forgotten. How could he have forgotten? But he also ‘forgot’ the other years. The grief consumed him on this particular day. It was always a sore reminder that he was missing his other half. So instead of going to her grave, he went drinking. Instead of spending the day with her in his mind, he spent it with his cock inside somebody. Anthony spent so much time forgetting but now it’s as if her ghost had come to haunt him. Every memory had come rushing back, especially the day she died.

He remembered the night before. The doctors had told them she would be better. She told him she would be better. But he needed to stay close to her. Anthony fell asleep with her hand in his hair. Then he woke up to her eyes open but her breath was gone. He had never screamed so loud in his life.

Anthony remembered their parents barging into the room, Mama taking a step back looking as if she was seconds away from fainting. Then she saw her son on the floor and immediately enveloped him in her arms. He woke up in a bed sometime during the night. He woke up convinced it was all a dream but that promptly shattered when all his siblings (all except one) filed into the room in their sleepwear. Their eyes were swollen and wet. And it stayed that way until her funeral, and even some more after that.

The carriage stopped. Anthony got out and stopped at the gate. He knew Mama held some kind of family gathering during this day. What they did in the gathering, he had no idea. He never stayed long enough to attend. But today was different, somehow. 

He padded softly into the drawing room. A quick glance noted him of all his siblings’ presence. Francesca was playing a familiar tune. Colin was singing in a low tone. Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne were all sitting on one couch, leaning against each other. The youngest ones sat on the floor, trying to follow the lyrics Colin sang. Mama was sewing. The melancholy vibe was replaced with a startled one. Francesca stopped playing and Colin stopped singing. Mama dropped what she was holding and walked towards him, arms open.

Anthony crumbled. “Mama -”

x. for the girl that i knew

“Mama what do you think about love?” It was indeed a bleak day in spring. Everybody had left after the service but Anthony chose to stay, lingering.

“Anthony I -” Violet began.

“Why does it hurt so much?” he whirled around, uncaring as tears and snot fell messily down his tired face. “I feel as if someone carved an unfillable hole inside me. Like every breath I take is not right. Half of me is buried six feet underground, mama. How can I bear it?”

Anthony curled into himself as Mama enveloped him into her arms. “One day at a time, dearest. You have us still.” she whispered. “One day at a time.”

[fin.]

[trini-trin-trin]

Sharing this from a FB group that I am in. I was very moved by the article and felt affinity with the experiences shared. A really sweet read.

Here is the article if you don't want to click on the link (I know it is a little long, but well worth your time to read!):

The letter I received ten years ago was unsigned and bore no return address. Clearly its author did not expect, much less want, a reply. A message in a bottle, from no one to no one, that letter still remains the most bizarre form of communication. It asks nothing but to be read, promises nothing but to share a few facts and feelings, and, seeing that it must have been dashed off on a lined yellow sheet that seemed hastily torn out of a pad of paper, the author would not be surprised if, after skimming through it, the recipient decided to crumple and lob it into the closest dust bin.

The letter is one page long. One page is enough. The handwriting is uneven, perhaps because the author had lost the habit of writing in longhand and preferred the keyboard. But his grammar is perfect. The man knew what he was doing. I assume he was writing the note by hand because he didn’t want traces of it on his laptop, or because he knew he was never going to send it as an email and risk a reply. Now that I think of it, he probably didn’t care if it even reached its recipient, a local Bay Area reporter who had mentioned my novel about two young men who fall in love one summer in Italy in the mid-1980s. The reporter eventually forwarded it to me, minus its envelope with the postmark. It took no time to see that all the author of the letter was looking for was a chance to blurt out the words he couldn’t dare breathe elsewhere.

My book had spoken to him. His letter spoke to me.

So here it is: dated April 16, 2008.

I came upon Mr. Aciman’s book while on a business trip back East. Not the type of book I am normally able to read, so I bought a copy for the flight home. I think I’m glad I did.

You see, I was Elio. I was 18 and my Oliver was 22. Though the time and place were different, the feelings were remarkably the same. From believing that you are the only person who has these feelings, to the whole “he loves me – he loves me not” scenario, Mr. Aciman got it right. I was particularly impressed with the attention he gave to the morning after Elio’s and Oliver’s first encounter. The guilt, the loathing, the fear. I felt it too much. I had to put the book down for a while.

But in the end I was able to finish the book before we landed at SFO. Which was good, because I couldn’t take the book home. Unlike Elio it was I who married and had children. My Oliver died from AIDS in 1995. I’m still living a parallel life. My name is not important. His name was Dwight.

Instead, I kept the letter. I kept it for ten years.

What moved me was not just its sobering matter-of-factness or its hint of downplayed sorrow, but the associations it provoked in my mind. It reminded me of those short, clipped messages to loved ones, written by people about to be shipped off to the death camps who knew they’d never be heard from again. There is a chilling immediacy about their hurriedly scribbled notes that say everything there is to say in the fewest possible words — there wasn’t enough time for more, no smarmy pieties, no hand-wringing, no treacly hugs and kisses before the tragic end. It also made me think of the moving phone messages left by those who finally realized they were not going to make it out alive from the Twin Towers and that only their family’s answering machine was going to take their call.

“My name is not important,” he writes, almost as an apology for remaining anonymous; yet the author drops quite a number of hints about himself — hints he likely knows will stir his reader’s wistful curiosity to know what made him write the letter in the first place, what he hoped to accomplish, and if writing did indeed help. The letter itself allows us to see that he travels for business. We also sense that he probably lives in the Bay Area and that he travels not infrequently to the East Coast, since, as he writes, he is “back” in the East. And we know one thing more: that he simply needed to come out and tell someone that a man called Dwight had been his lover when the two were young. The rest is a cloud. We’ll never know more. Writing has served its purpose. We write, it seems, to reach out to others. Whether we know them or not doesn’t matter. We write to put out into the real world something extremely private within us, to make real what often feels unreal and ever so elusive about ourselves. We write to give a shape to what would otherwise remain amorphous. This is as true about authors as about those who want to correspond with them. Over the years, many have written to me either after reading or seeing Call Me by Your Name. Some tried to meet me; others confided things they’d never told anyone; and some even managed to call me at the office and, on speaking about my novel, would eventually apologize before bursting out crying. Some were in jail; some were barely adolescents, others old enough to look back at loves seven decades past; and some were priests locked in silence and secrecy. Many were closeted, others totally out; some were widows who felt a resurgence of hope if only by reading about the loves of two young men called Elio and Oliver in Italy; some were very young girls eager to meet their long-awaited Oliver; and some recalled former gay lovers whom they’d occasionally bump into years later but who’d never acknowledge what they’d once shared and done together when both were schoolmates and neither was married. All were keenly aware of living a parallel life. In that parallel life things are as they perhaps should be. Elio and Oliver still live together. And no one has secrets there.

Unlike Dwight’s lover, everyone who took the time to write to me did not withhold their names, but all had, at one point or another, withheld something very primal. They withheld it from themselves, from a relative, from a friend, a classmate, or colleague, or from a beloved who would never have guessed what troubled longings seethed below their averted gaze whenever they crossed paths.

Some readers wrote to tell me they felt that my novel had changed them, and given them new insights into themselves; some felt it was urging them finally to turn a new leaf in their lives. But some couldn’t go so far and, despite their perfect command of language, confessed lacking the words to explain why they were so moved by my novel or why they felt an unresolved longing for things they’d never considered or desired before. They were experiencing an upwell of emotions and of ungraspable might-have-beens that were asking to be reckoned with because they seemed more real than life itself, a sense of themselves that beckoned from an opposite bank they’d never known was there and whose potential loss now was a source of inconsolable grief. Hence their tears, their regrets, and the overpowering sense of being lost in their own lives.

And yet, they said, theirs were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of recognition, as though the novel itself were a mirror for readers to watch their own emotions laid bare before them. These responses made me aware that Call Me by Your Name does not call attention to anything readers didn’t already know, nor does it bring new truths or revelations; all it does is shed new light on things that were long familiar but that they never took the time to consider. It would be so tempting to say that they are reminded of their forgotten first loves; the truth is that all loves, even those that occur late in life, are first loves. There is always fear, shame, reluctance, and not a tiny dose of spite. Desire is agony.

Everyone who’s read Call Me by Your Name understands not only the struggle both to speak and hold back their truth but also the shame that comes whenever we want something from someone. Desire is always cagey, always secretive — we’ll tell everyone we know about the person we crave to hold naked in our arms, but the very last one to know this will be the person we crave. Same-sex desire is even more guarded and watchful, especially in those who are just discovering their sexuality. Awkwardness and desire are strange bedfellows at a young age, but shame and inexperience are just as paralyzing as fear when we watch them tussling with the urge to be bold. You’re torn between the raw horniness that makes you dream scenes you hope to forget as soon as you’re up and the scenes you pray you’ll dream again and again — if dreams are all you’ll have. Silence and solitude exact a cost that leaves us emotionally wrecked. At some point we need to speak.

So “is it better to speak or die?” asks Elio, the narrator of Call Me by Your Name, quoting words penned by the sixteenth-century Marguerite de Navarre in her collection of tales known as The Heptameron. Marguerite was the sister of King Francis I and the grandmother of Henry IV, himself the grandfather of Louis XIV, hence she was plenty familiar with court intrigue, gossip, and the risks of opening up to someone who may not welcome what’s in our heart and could easily make us pay for it. Not everyone who has written to me has dared to speak their hearts to those they loved. Some have sought silence — slow, lingering droplets of quiet desperation taken every night before bedtime until they realize they’ve been dead and didn’t even know it. Many have written to me with the feeling of having missed their chance when someone tethered his rowboat to their jetty and simply asked them to jump in. “Some sentence or thought on almost every page,” writes a reader, “triggers tears and knots my throat and chest. Tears well up in my eyes on the subway, at my computer at work, walking down the street. Perhaps I am weeping in part because I know that at my age there is virtually no possibility of experiencing anything remotely comparable to what Elio experiences with Oliver.” Someone else writes, “Reading Call Me by Your Name made me feel a love I never had.” A happily married 50-plus colleague took me aside and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this much in love in my whole life.” “I'm 23,” tweeted someone else, “and have never felt such love, until I read Call Me by Your Name. I feel like I lived it.” “Elio and I are essentially the same age,” writes a teenage girl. “I have never really experienced his environment of the Italian summer…My experiences have only taken place halfway between nature and smog, however I have felt the same tension, fear, guilt and overwhelming love that you express perfectly through both Elio and Oliver…Finding myself in Elio was something I never expected and I’m positive that I won’t experience anything quite like it ever again. The first girl I ever loved remains…the only girl I have ever loved and though everything she and I shared…lives now as a secret between two friends.” “I finished reading Call Me by Your Name a couple of days ago,” writes someone else, “and wanted to let you know how much it affected me. It felt like a narration of my thoughts that I had systematically buried long ago.” And finally this from a 72-year-old: “I was fascinated by the idea of parallel lives where would I have been if I had gone with him, where would I be if I traveled alone? Maybe the point is just what do I do with the gift you have given me during the remainder of my life.”

There are at least 500 more such letters and emails.

Some find themselves weeping at the end of the film or the novel, not for what happened long ago or for what did not and might never happen in their own lives but for what has yet to happen, for the terrifying moment when they too will soon have to decide whether to speak or die. This from an 18-year-old: “[Your novel] gives me hope that one day I will meet someone whom I desire so badly that I’ll actually find it in me to make a move, the way Oliver is that someone for Elio. Maybe my Oliver will also turn out to be someone that I realize I love as well as desire.” She was crying for a week, as was this 15-year-old young man: “I stopped reading…because I didn’t want [the book] to end, didn’t want the wounds that you caused me to close, I didn’t want to overcome, for some reason that I have yet to find out. I wanted to stay a wreck, emotionally and mentally fragile….My mother handed me tissues because she had never seen me cry like this. I had finished your book and ‘moved’ is too weak a word to express what your book had done to me. Here a week later and it is literally all I can think about, not my midterms coming up, but…Elio and Oliver and if it is better to speak or die. You answered questions I didn’t even think I had.”

Indeed, the whole novel seems to enable the outing of all manner of feelings, feelings from Elio’s relentless inward journey and obsessive self-examination that readers are invited to identify with. Through Elio’s unfettered introspection they too feel exposed and sliced open like a crustacean without a slough, now forced to look at itself in the mirror. No wonder they are moved. The mask that is torn off their faces is not just the mask that conceals same-sex desires from themselves and from others. Rather, it is the realization, through Elio’s voice, of what they truly feel, who they truly are, what they fear, what bears their signature, and what coy little shenanigans they go through to read others and hope to reach them. Some identified with some effusive sentences in my novel so much that they had them tattooed on their bodies. They even attach photos of these tattoos. People have also tattooed peaches on themselves!

But what moves most people — and this is as true now as it was when the novel first came out — is the father’s speech. Here he not only tells his son to nurse the flame and “don’t snuff it out” after his son’s lover has left Italy, but that he too, the father, envies his son’s relationship with a male lover. This speech tears away the last vestige of a veil between reader and truth and is a moving tribute to the irreducible honesty between father and son.

Most readers have written to me about the scene because the father’s speech rekindles the very difficult moment when they decided to come out to their parents — or, as is often the case with people 60, or 70 or older, it reminds them of the conversation they wished they’d had but never did have with their parents. This is the loss no one forgets and from which no one recovers after seeing Call Me by Your Name. It bears the very essence of that precious and life-defining might-have-been moment that never happened and never will.

Here is the speech:

“Look…[y]ou had a beautiful friendship. Maybe more than a friendship. And I envy you. In my place, most parents would hope the whole thing goes away, or pray that their sons land on their feet soon enough. But I am not such a parent. In your place, if there is pain, nurse it, and if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out, don’t be brutal with it. Withdrawal can be a terrible thing when it keeps us awake at night, and watching others forget us sooner than we’d want to be forgotten is no better. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything — what a waste!...

“… {L]et me say one more thing. It will clear the air. I may have come close, but I never had what you had. Something always held me back or stood in the way. How you live your life is your business. But remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. Most of us can’t help but live as though we’ve got two lives to live, one is the mockup, the other the finished version, and then all those versions in between. But there’s only one, and before you know it, your heart is worn out, and, as for your body, there comes a point when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Right now there’s sorrow. I don’t envy the pain. But I envy you the pain.”

I received the anonymous letter sometime in early May 2008. At the time, I was staying at my parents’, because my father was suffering from throat and mouth cancer and was already in hospice care. He had refused radiation and chemotherapy, so I knew his days were numbered; though morphine was clouding his mind, he was still lucid enough to bandy a few quips about a host of subjects. He had stopped eating and drinking water because swallowing had become very painful. One afternoon while I was stealing a nap, the phone rang. A reporter I’d met in California had just received a letter, which she wanted to share with me. I told her to read it over the phone. After she’d read it I asked if she felt she could mail it to me. I wanted to show it to my father, I said, and explained he was dying. She felt for me. We talked about my father for a while. I told her I was trying to make it up to him these days, and that he too had been exceptionally easy to be with. How was it growing up with him? she asked. Tense, I replied. Always is, she added. Then the conversation ended, and she promised to mail the letter soon.

After hanging up, I got out of bed and went in to see him. Over the past few days, I had made a point of reading to him, which he liked a great deal, especially now that he was having difficulty focusing. But rather than read to him the memoirs of Chateaubriand, one of his favorite authors, and feeling buoyed by the letter I’d been read on the phone, I asked if he’d like me to read from the French translation of Call Me by Your Name, the galleys of which I had just received from Paris that very morning. Why not, since you wrote it, he said. He was proud of me. So I began to read from the very beginning, and soon enough I knew I was opening up a subject neither he nor I had ever broached before. But I knew he knew what I was reading and why I was reading it to him. This made me happy. Perhaps it made him happy as well. I’ll never know.

That evening, after the rest of us had dinner, he asked if I could continue reading from my novel. I was nervous about arriving at the father’s speech because I didn’t know how he’d react to it, though he was the kind of father who would have given that very same speech himself. But the speech was two hundred pages away still, and that would have taken many, many days. Perhaps I should skip some parts, I thought. But no, I wanted to read him the whole book. My father didn’t last long enough to hear the father’s speech. And when the letter finally arrived from California, he was already gone. His name was Henri, he was 93 years old, and he inspired everything I’ve written.

[silentfcknhill]

FAVORITE SHOWS IN POSTERS

Well, we’re back for another installment of this tagged meme, this time for TV shows! I also stole this from/was indirectly tagged by @jcmorrigan. My taste in shows also differs a bit from my taste in movies, as I tend to like a lot of comedy shows with not as many horror ones. I’m not into shows as much as movies overall, but there are some that I am very passionate about so I picked twenty again. So, here we go for part 2, in order:

1. Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend Of Korra (2005-2014)

I'm including these as one show since they take place in the same universe and tell a continuation of the same overall plot. Altogether this is probably the best piece of media to ever exist, including movies. It has so many great characters and villains especially and some of the most epic sequences, charming humor and heartwarming moments ever. I've never met a person who didn't like these shows, even people who normally don't like cartoons. My dad, who is biased against animation? He loved it. My mother? She loved it, watched it with her multiple times. My grandmother? Loved it. My ex-boyfriend? Loved it. My best friend? Loved it. I dare anyone not to, and I'm so glad it's making a resurgence since it's on Netflix for a new generation to enjoy.

2. Black Butler (2008-2014)

I never was big into anime growing up and only really started watching anime when I was like 16 and above, but this is one of the exceptions because holy shit is it ever dark and epic. I'm not sure I'd really recommend it for kids, it's more of a teens and young adults kind of anime and that's probably why it's so good, because it isn't afraid to explore dark and mature topics and do it with all of the intensity and gravitas required to do said topics justice. It has lots of great characters, and the story of demons who make deals with children who have a dark side is fun to watch play out.

3. Seinfeld (1989-1998)

My dad was a huge fan of this show so I watched it growing up since I was a toddler and it became a classic for me. I've watched thw hole show through at least 8 times, and I'll never stop because it never gets old or boring. It's also my only comfort show when I'm having a panic attack because of one time a few years ago when I was having a drug-induced psychosis episode and watching it calmed me down, so now it's like the opposite of a trigger and whenever I'm having an episode or something I watch it to bring me back to reality. For that reason it's more than a show to me, it's a medical treatment and I'm forever grateful to it.

4. The Good Place (2016-2020)

The big four shows made my Michael Schur all made it on this post (The Good Place, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office and Parks And Recreation), either in the main list of the honorable mentions, but this is my personal favorite of the four. It's so funny, quirky, relatable and basically tailor-made to suit my interests. Not only is it an entertaining and wholesome show, but I think watching it helped me come to terms with a lot of things like mortality, ethics, philosophy, religion and my relationships with other people. It gets  alot of different viewpoints across and if you're a very analytical and philosophical person like me you'll probably enjoy seeing it all play out. Not to mention, every single character is 'favorite character' material. It's rare you find a show with no filler characters in the main cast, but I genuinely can't choose who is best.

5. Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-?)

Another of Michael Schur's shows, this one is just barely under The Good Place and to be honest it was tough to pick my favorite between the two because they're both equally funny. I know it's kind of controversial right now because of the whole law enforcement thing, but I actually think they do a good job of handling social issues in the show and remaining respectful of real-life systemic problems. As for the characters, this is another one of those shows where every single character is gold and I think that tends to be a trend among Schur's shows in general. He produces damn good comedy, and damn good characters. I can't wait to see what they bring next.

6. Rick And Morty (2013-?)

This is unfortunately one of those cases of 'great show, horrible fandom' and for that reason I don't get involved in the fandom even though I love the show. It's a shame because it really is a great show, so funny and, again, such good characters. I think it's a lot more accessible than the fandom likes to claim, so I'm hoping more people will give it a chance and not get put off by the intellectual elitism of the fandom because it does have some of the most entertaining and batshit crazy episodes ever, poking fun of some of the staples of science fiction in media while also poking fun of itself the whole time. Unlike the fandom, the show doesn't take itself seriously and that's enjoyable nowadays.

7. Orange Is The New Black (2013-2019)

While this show is a comedy, it is also a lot of other things and it's probably made me ugly-cry just as many times as it's made me laugh. Well, maybe not as often, but those few scenes (if you've watched the show then you know the ones I'm talking about) made me hysterically sob hard enough to be worth like fifty minor sads. But I didn't even mind because the show is just that good, and it makes you /feel/ something in a real way. Probably because of just how real it gets in terms of telling stories that happen all the time in the real world, sometimes with inevitably tragic endings. But these things do happen every day, and it's important to shine a light on that. It's not just representation for LGBTQ+ but also for POC, the neurodiverse, the poor, and many more. Give it a watch to broaden your perspective!

8. Big Mouth (2017-?)

This is probably the grossest show I've ever seen but by god is it ever funny. Maybe it's because I have an immature sense of humor or something, but I love this show. It definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea and I don't recommend you watch this show with anyone else around because it will get awkward. I think part of its appeal to me is that everyone I talk to who likes it considers it so relatable to their lives growing up but for someone like me who grew up on the autism and asexual spectrum and who was physically an early-bloomer by years, nothing about this show is relatable to me in any way so it makes it all the more crazy and bizarre watching how the people around me must have experienced things. Did y'all really have these experiences with puberty in middle school???

9. Dexter (2006-2013)

I recently heard that this show is coming back for a reboot soon and I'm so excited because this is my absolute favorite drama/thriller show, as evidenced by the fact that it's the highest one on the list so far that isn't a comedy. I love the idea of having a protagonist who is sort of a villain (or at least morally dubious), and the idea of a serial killer who only kills bad people is particularly satisfying for some reason. Maybe because he's the vigilante we all deserve and want in this unjust and evil world of modern times? Idk but the very premise of this show set it up for big things and aside from the ending I think it delivered consistently.

10. Once Upon A Time (2011-2018)

This show took us on some journeys, and you can't deny that. Sure, maybe it didn't always finish what it started and didn't always end in the most satisfying way, but part of its charm is that you didn't care because the experience was just so much fun. They took characters and stories that have been told to death and somehow managed to put a unique and unexpected twist on them, and that alone is admirable. Good twists, good villains, and pretty much every cliffhanger known to man will keep you hooked on binge-watching every episode.

11. RuPaul's Drag Race (2009-?)

A bit different than the other entries on my list in that it's not fiction but a reality competition show, but I couldn't leave Drag Race out because it's just so fucking iconic and perfect. Even when you disagree with the judges or can't stand a certain contestant you'll still be having a good time. It's got the personalities you love to love, the ones you love to hate, and the comedy that's completely meme-able. I mean just how much has this show contributed to pop culture and the internet? More than most of us, henny. I've watched every single season, even the international ones and all of the spinoffs. This show will probably be on for another thirty years when Ru is throwing shade from a hospital bed and I'll still be watching.

12. House (2004-2012)

Some people hate on this show, and I don't get it. I love House. Yes, he's an ass. That's the point. He's supposed to be unlikeable, and that's why I like him. Maybe because I always love the rude, sarcastic, misanthropic jerkass-genius characters for some reason. And I also love procedural shows, so it's a win-win. I also work in the healthcare field so it appeals to me for that reason too, because obviously the whole premise is outlandish which is what makes it funny. Of course it's not realistic for a hospital, so just enjoy the absurdity and don't get too hung up on the details of medical accuracy and professional ethics and you'll be fine.

13. The Office (2005-2013)

The third of Michael Schur's show and the last one that made the main list (sorry Parks And Rec, I love you too but there was just so many good shows to choose from and I saw you last so the nostalgia isn't as strong!) I don't think I need to hype this show up any, it's already a classic and you can't even turn around online without getting hit in the face by a dozen Office memes. You'll have to pry this show and it's relatable characters (especially Michael Scott) from my cold, dead hands.

14. All Hail King Julien/The Penguins Of Madagascar (2008-2017)

Like Avatar/Korra, I also consider this as one show for the sake of this list because it also takes place in the same universe (Madagascar, specifically) and I just couldn't choose one over the other because they're both so perfect. They're funny and I love all the characters (it cut out the weaker links of the Madagascar film series and just focuses on expanding the standout side-characters like King Julien and the penguins). It also delved into some lore, particularly the first show, and even though I didn't also agree with the directions it took (you may have seen me get salty about the ending because I cared too much), I can't deny how much I love it.

15. Bones (2005-2017)

One of the other scarce non-comedy shows on this list, it still has it's funny moments. It's also, like House, another procedural show that involves some medical stuff, but this time on a more scientific and forensic level which is even more interesting. It's nice to see a lead female with Asperger's, too. There's a lot of cop/law enforcement shows where they try to solve crimes, but this one is the best, and I'm saying that as a fan of CSI as well. Don't fight me on this, I'm right. Oh yes, it's corny, it's campy, it's cheesy, but I love every minute of it. Don't watch if you have a weak stomach though.

16. The Simpsons (1989-?)

We all grew up with this show, don't lie. It's been around longer than most people on tumblr have even been alive. Should it have ended seasons ago? Hell yes. But that doesn't take away what the first like 20 or so seasons gave us (there's a lot of argument about when the show jumped the shark, for me it wasn't until much later than the popular consensus). The characters are amazing, but the secret to the show's longevity is that they always return to status quo and there's comfort and nostalgia in that. Bart will still be in 4th grade when you're out there pushing 90. This show is persistent. This show is eternal. This show will outlive us all.

17. Ash Vs. Evil Dead (2015-2018)

Sorely underrated. This show is hilarious, gruesome and campy as hell and I love it. I don't think you necessarily have to watch the Evil Dead movies beforehand in order to get the plot of the show, although it would probably help. In my opinion this show ended way too soon and I'm hoping someday we'll get a comeback because Ash is the reluctant, self-absorbed hero we all need and it's 2020 so at this point there really might actually be a demon-zombie apocalypse and who's gonna save us then if not for the impulsive womanizer with a chainsaw for a hand?

18. Malcolm In The Middle (2000-2006)

Another show I grew up with, I don't think it gets as much credit as it deserves. It has some damn funny episodes and great characters, and it did a lot of the popular sitcom tropes before they were 'cool'. Some other great sitcoms, The Middle in particular, took a lot of influence from this show and it helped pave the way for the future of sitcoms at a time when they were about to make a comeback. If you want a good show about the real experiences of growing up, this is a much more accurate representation of the highs and lows of being an awkward tween from a dysfunctional home.

19. A Series Of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Unlike most people I actually liked the movie version from the early 2000's, and I read the books growing up so I was excited when I saw there was a live action television adaptation of it on Netflix because I felt like they cancelled the movie franchise too soon. I was interested to see how new actors would handle the roles, and I was not disappointed. I wouldn't say I liked either portrayal of the characters better or worse, they both added their own twist to it and this show is a great and loyal adaptation to the books, probably because the author was so heavily involved. He knew just when to stick to the books and when to improve upon what he had done with the benefit of hindsight. This show is basically the books, but remastered.

20. Winx Club (2004-?)

Sort of an odd one out on this list, but I really love this show even as an adult and it may surprise you to learn it is still going on and the most recent season came out last year. They take big breaks sometimes in between seasons, but it's still going strong and in multiple countries. The only thing I don't like about watching this show is all the different and inconsistent dubs since the original show is Italian and each dub only goes for a couple seasons so by the time you get used to one set of voices/names for the characters oyu have to abruptly switch to another, but it's still worth it for the beautiful animation and cool characters (especially the villains!)

Honorable Mentions: 

13 Reasons Why, America's Next Top Model, American Horror Story, Arrested Development, Bates Motel, Battlestar Galactica, Black Mirror, Care Bears, Chernobyl, Courage The Cowardly Dog, Criminal, CSI, Duck Dodgers, Goosebumps, Kenny Vs. Spenny, Kim Possible, Kingdom Hospital, Lazytown, Lost, Making A Murderer, Mayday, Mindhunter, Modern Family, Monster High, Obsession: Dark Desires, Parks And Recreation, Prison Break, Project Runway, Queer As Folk, Queer Eye, Salem, Schitt's Creek, SCTV, Spongebob Squarepants, The Emperor's New School, The Good Doctor, The Haunting Of Hill House/Bly Manor, The Middle, The Pretender, The Walking Dead, The X-Files, Through The Wormhole, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Unsolved Mysteries, Yugioh

Tagging: @bullet-farmer​ and anyone else who wants to!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Come When You Call, Pt 3

"Did you know I used to play the piano?"

They're inside now, chased inside by the heavy summer heat. Lena's curled sideways on the couch, her feet in James' lap as he leafs through a book he's already read before. The question comes low and uninvited, offered apropo of nothing beyond Lena's deep thought.

James lifts his head, scanning his memory for any mention of the piano, or any instrument. He finds none.

"No, I didn't."

Now that he thinks about it, he has little information stored away about Lena's life before she came to National City. It was a part of her life she seemed content to leave in the past, and James was happy to let her. He'd been glad to have any part of her she was willing to share at all.

Lena nods. Her fingers trace the knitted pattern of the blanket pooled across her knees, her gaze fixed on the tip of her finger. "Used to fence too."

"Yeah?" he asks. He nudges her playfully. "Were you any good?"

He knows she must have been-- Lena isn't the person to do anything halfway. His suspicions are confirmed when Lena nods, mitigating her hubris with a slanted shrug. "Almost made the Olympics one year."

"Holy shit." James pats her shin with a smile. "You know, I might have a trophy somewhere around here for peewee football."

Lena laughs, and a weight lifts from James' chest at the genuine sound of it. Her smile brightens her entire face, and James can't help but grin.

"I would have liked to see that," Lena says.

Suddenly, James remembers the box he'd shoved into his bedroom closet. "I might just have the next best thing. Hang on."

He scoots out from under her and disappears, returning with a pile of photo albums in his arms.

"I dunno if you know this," he says, "but this house used to be my gran's. And one thing about gran is that she never threw away anything."

"Oh, no way," Lena chirps, sitting up to receive the first album with both hands. By the time James sits next to her, she's already got it open to the first page, where James sees his infant self yawning from inside a blue hospital blanket.

"Gran also liked to document everything," James explains. He taps the picture next to it, where his grandmother held him close to her chest with happy tears in her eyes. "This is probably only going to get us to about middle school."

Lena beams as they peruse the entire album, and James narrates what he can remember about each photo. His dad shows up in a few of them, which almost makes James' throat lock up with emotion, but talking about him feels natural with Lena. She drinks in every picture, every memory he shares with quiet appreciation.

"We never had anything like this," she says softly, running her fingers over the film trapping the photos to the page.

"That's a shame," James says. "It'd be a kick to see little Lena."

"I mean, we had the official portraits, and there's various press photos I'm sure you could find if you really wanted to. But memories like these?" She gazes at the photos, tracing the curve of Kelly's three-year old chin. "I don't know if there was anything worth documenting, come to think of it."

Not for the first time, James' heart goes out to the girl Lena used to be. Before he can say anything, Lena clears her throat.

"I used to wonder if my mother ever took photos like this, before she--" Lena cuts herself off. Her eyes darken for a brief moment, before she lifts her chin with a deep breath. "If she did, I never saw them. I didn't even have a picture of her, let alone myself."

James can't speak for a long moment. When he lost his dad, he'd at least had his photos-- those of him and those taken by him, each preserving different pieces of his father. He couldn't imagine trying to grieve without them.

"I'm so sorry, Lena..."

"I'm the one who's sorry." She looks up from the album and meets his gaze, her eyes focusing on him with familiar intensity. "The way I ended things between us... you deserved better than that."

James swallows, unprepared for the sudden turn. "I appreciate that..."

"And I should have kept in touch when you left," she continues. She swallows thickly. "I wasn't sure you'd want to hear from me."

"Me either." The confession comes low and soft from James' chest. He'd thought of calling Lena probably a dozen times, but talked himself out of every single one, certain that she'd want nothing to do with him.

Lena's hand settles on his knee. Her touch is warm, and singular in its rarity. For all that she craved physical intimacy, she rarely initiated it. She does so now, meeting his gaze once more. Suddenly, they seem unfathomably close.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, James."

James' hand lifts from where it rests against the back of the couch, his fingers gingerly brushing the hair from her face.

"Lena, I--"

Suddenly, the phone in James' pocket rings, launching into a jaunty jingle. Coming back to themselves, they both disengage-- James to fish out his phone and Lena to return her focus to the album still in her lap.

James clears his throat when he sees the caller id. "Kelly, hi."

"Hey, is Lena there?"

"Yeah, just a sec." Tapping the screen, he holds the phone between them. "You're on speaker," he says loudly.

"Lena?"

"I'm here. What's wrong?"

"Nothing yet," comes the reply, huffing through the phone. "No movement from Lex at this point. We're probably going to have to wait for Supergirl and the others to get back before we're able to wrap things up. But I'm not calling about that."

Lena's brow furrows, silence hanging poignantly until Kelly continues.

"I wanted to check on you, see how you're doing."

"O-oh." Lena's stutter belies her surprise, as does the flush that creeps up her neck. James bites back a smile. "I'm okay."

"And James has been behaving himself?"

"Hey!" James squawks indignantly, earning an unexpected giggle from Lena. "I'm right here, you know."

Kelly doesn't relent. "And are you behaving yourself?"

James scoffs good naturedly, leaving Lena to come to his rescue.

"Yes, he's been the perfect gentleman," she says, patting his knee. "I couldn't have asked for a better host."

"Good," Kelly declares. "If he steps out of line, just let me know and I'll come kick his butt."

Rolling his eyes, James stands to grab a drink, but as he does he gives Lena's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She flashes a smile at him, bright and beautiful, before she takes the phone off speaker and places it to her ear.

He takes his time in the kitchen, giving them room to have a conversation without him. He wonders if either of realize that Kelly's just disproven one of Lena's fears the night before. Though she might not believe it right now, Lena does have people who care about her. Kelly is just the start.

[tortilla-of-courage]

Describing it as being like home is actually pretty accurate yeah.

And YES! I am totally willing to talk about my modern AU.

I've been calling it the Adoption AU because Time ends up adopting all of the boys. It mostly started as, I saw an edit for a tweet someone did with Wars and Wild that involved Taco Bell (cannot remember the blog or post for the life of me though), and so I wrote a thing about Warriors sneaking out of his university dorm to pick up Wild, who snuck out the window despite his broken arm, and then got extorted by Legend in exchange for silence at 3am.

This was followed by a fic where Groose decided spray painting a public building was a good idea and got himself and Sky arrested, set earlier in the timeline.

So then I made a timeline. Twilight is Time and Malon's biological son, and he found Wild on the side of the road one day (Wild's backstory involves a bad car wreck and an underground hospital, but no conspiracy bullshit. Yet). Wild has no memory, so they keep him. Wild brings home Legend, who was told his uncle died at school before a holiday. They then also keep Legend. Malon finds Four in her barn one morning for complicated reasons, and they keep him too. Twilight finds Warriors, who is in his class, hiding in an alley one day after he ran away from an abusive home and brings him home too. SS Impa (who I've nicknamed Shield because there are enough prominent Impas here that they should get nicknames too) is a social worker who's trying to find Sky a home and has run out of options, and turns to Time, who has a record of successfully housing 'unhousable' youths, and asks if he can take one more. He can. Wild finds Hyrule and brings him home because 'Rule needs a shower even more than Wild does. Hyrule stays. Wind's grandma ends up with Wind and his sister but can't financially take care of both and so Wind ends up with the boys and everyone is +1 Grandma.

Twilight has a fic detailing how he knows Midna and Dusk and I ended up shooting him (oops) but at least their social project gets handed in on time.

Then I started hashing out Time's backstory and suddenly this AU had plot. And organized crime. And a conspiracy. And secret societies.

The summarized version is that the gems from OoT are like, Idk what they do yet. Haven't gotten to a point where I need to figure that out yet. But they are Important and have to be carefully guarded. The Great Deku Tree (just called Deku because he's not a tree here) was Time's foster father before Ganondorf killed him. Also, Ganondorf is Deku's half brother. Because. However Time 'stole' the Emerald and he and Navi ran until OoT Impa (Sage) and Lullaby found them. So Time got adopted into Lullaby's family. Ruto inherited the Sapphire from her mother who also died from mysterious circumstances, and Darunia has the Ruby. Lullaby got the Ocarina from her late paternal grandmother.

Then Ganon finds them and tries to steal the Emerald from Time, so Lullaby goes looking for help and thus finds the sages. Saria is an anonymous hacker who uses the screen name 'Kokiri'. Time reveals he didn't steal the Emerald, he was Deku's heir, and then Navi goes missing. Time is home worried enough that he's physically sick, and Ganon decides to try and attack the home. Only Lullaby's family is Olde Money, and they live in a big, old manor, so Lullaby as Sheik decides to play 'Home Alone' with the secret passages in the walls and they piss off Ganon because when did that brat get a sheikah bodyguard??? Sage and Rottla (Lullaby's mother, who is fully sheikah as well) rush home from a thing and Kokiri is running a play by play watching the security cameras.

I pull in my headcanon that Time was killed in the Downfall Timeline by getting impaled on Ganon's tusk and Ganondorf stabs him with the tusk of a mounted boar head and then Sheik shows up to protect his brother, and then Mama gets home and is not happy to find this man in her home attacking her kids. Time is fine, but Navi stays missing. (She's alive tho.)

Also, Time's foster dad was the last leader of a secret society known as The Order of The Lost Woods, and Time learns this upon meeting Tatl, who gets him sucked into another event that would probably make a good action movie. I have thought too much about the Order and it's hierarchy, but what's important here is that Time ends up with a standing job offer and Tatl and he remain friends and we find out how I fit FD into this AU. It's not pretty. This is where Time loses his eye too.

The AoC came out and I added that Link in as Wild's twin brother and he shows up during the main plot.

Which starts with Twi getting kidnapped. (I'm not really meaner to him than the others, I swear, he's just the most logical choice to be Time's heir. Which he is. He doesn't know this though.)

So he's kidnapped by Ganondorf, who broke out of jail, Zant, who shot Twi in highschool, and Ghirahim, who has some history with Sky I haven't fleshed out yet and a very public rivalry with Warriors over twitter. About six weeks later Sage finds him in an abandoned warehouse (because of course) with a shackle on his left arm and a lot of new injuries. He ends up fine, but he tells Time later in the hospital what happened and he's both message and messenger and Time is this close to just committing murder. Tatl talks him down.

Somewhere here is the half finished fic where I introduce AoC Link as Luke/Knight, and this is as far as I've plotted thus far.

Other tidbits: Wild and Lullaby/Sheik are both genderfluid, Lullaby/Sheik married Ruto, Wild has a very popular YouTube channel, Twi does drag racing sometimes, Sky has a pet bird, Four has DID to explain how the Colours are here too, and Wolfie exists in the form of a random wolf-dog Wild found and brought home that Legend somehow convinced half the family was Twilight. Also, Warriors has somehow befriended an entire sorority and he doesn't know how this happened.

This... got long. As you can see I have a lot of thoughts about the Adoption AU. It's gotten a bit away from me, I'll admit. This went from 'Wild does stunts on his motorbike and keeps breaking bones but somehow not the bike' to 'Twilight got kidnapped and Time is the target of a mafia that Ganon runs and also maybe killed a man once' and I don't know how that happened. Also, this is the condensed version of the summary. My actual summary/outline is much, much longer than this. So if there's any detail you want more on, feel free to say so and I'll happily go into more detail (there are so many things I didn't even mention....)

And yes, Robbie having a bong is very important to my best friend, for some reason. He has one in a modern AU and he probably invented one in canon. I happen to agree that this makes sense for his character, if anyone would invent a bong in LoZ it's Robbie (this is such an anticlimactic end to this ask after the stuff about the modern AU...)

Also, sorry for the long ass ask. I genuinely don't know how to condense the Adoption Au down any further. There's a lot of important plot beats to cover, and I still skipped things.

-Attllhak

oh my GOD???? if you ever write and post this somewhere id love to read it, the level of "crazy" conspiracy/action movie elements implemented sound sosososo cool, from Ganondorf being Deku's half brother to trying to "send a message" via Twi and- just- all of this is SO good.i sat here and reread this ask like 3 times as if that would magically spawn more info about it ahaha

there's so much to unpack here but it's honestly so worth it i love every single detail!!! i can imagine the actual outline being way longer, nad honestly that just makes me the more excited/curious about all that might be missing from this ask - i cant believe it started with Wild and Wars going to Taco Bell of all things

also i can totally see Robbie making a bong, no matter the setting or AU. fits him a lot I'd say

and dont worry about long asks!! i adore opening up my askbox to see one ask take over the entire thing, it makes me really happy aha

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

This whole thing came from the single thought of “Wait, can I think of a single fic where Roman is actually a prince?” which was followed with “What if Roman was the Faerie Prince in LAOFT?” The thought wouldn’t leave me be until I wrote it down, and I figured, hey, since I wrote it down, might as well share it. (I think everyone here is sympathetic, because that’s how we roll.)

Now, without further ado, I give you… LAOFT role swap au headcanons!

In which Roman and Remus were Lords of the Forest until a mortal witch came between them. Roman, who had always views the humans as nothing more than, say, characters in a story (small and rather unimpressive), learns one, to never piss off a teenager with a sharp tongue, and two, the meaning of ~friendship~ when a somewhat cocky witch strolls into their forest. Remus, who rarely showed interest in humans aside from the occasional “game,” becomes worried that this witch is going to take his brother from him (be that by the witch betraying Roman, or by Roman choosing his human sister over his faerie brother), and acts accordingly, which, for Remus, probably means a murder attempt or four. Furious that his brother attempted to harm his friend, Roman retaliates. Unlike in LAOFT, where Dee uses trickery to incapacitate Virgil, Remus goes for more of a blunt-force route (see: their first canonical interaction, where Remus hits Roman over the head with a morningstar). Roman is put in the casket though one method or another. Remus probably viewed the whole thing as a prank or sorts, where Roman would be out of the picture until the witch was long gone, and problem solved. Greta, however, may not have gotten that memo, and goes ahead with the deal to awaken Roman. This, to Remus, is where the prank evolves into a game. 

We pick up a century-or-so later to meet Patton and his “twin,” Thomas (I’m just switching around the six sides, and leaving everyone else where they were, for the most part). Pat is just the sweetest soul ever, but most are too leery to come anywhere near him.

Exception number one is Virgil, the boy who was blessed by a fairy to have a charming voice. However, something happened (insert angst), and poor V accidentally weaponized his gift (see: tempest tongue), resulting in lots of anxiety and being generally quiet out of fear of hurting someone (instead of using qualifiers to avoid telling people to do things, like LAOFT Pat does, Virgil just doesn’t really say anything at all). Upon learning that Patton is immune to his curse, the two became inseparable.

Exception number two is (one of my favorite concepts in Sanders Sides fics ever: Feral Logan) Logan, the witch’s great-great grandson, who lives with his grandmother and probably already knows all about witchery and will not hesitate to hex someone who acts rudely to his two best friends seven ways from Sunday. Logan stumbled upon Roman when he was younger and decided that awakening the sleeping prince would be a perfect test of his magic. Logan views magic as another type of science, and loves to test all sorts of hypotheses, which is… stressful for any and all other parties involved. 

Remus, meanwhile, is doing a wonderful dance of denial. Does his miss his brother? Pshhh, absolutely not! That’s crazy! He’s having a grand old time ruling the first by himself, if you can call what he’s doing “ruling.” Remus doesn’t really put much effort into controlling the fair folk, so they do steal the occasional human from the woods, but he doesn’t actively encourage messing with the humans. (We still have the same dragon-witch-monster-ghost, who is desperately looking for Roman.) Remus might even be a little afraid of the mortals, though he’d never admit it. This may be one of the reasons whatever faerie who gave Virgil his gift wouldn’t be allowed to see him— why give the humans more power then they already have? 

Janus I’m not really sure about, but I am gonna pretty much ignore LAOFT’s Dee because I want sympathetic!Janus (that reads kinda rudely, sorry, I do really love how you wrote him, but I’m in a sympathetic!Janus sort of mood)— maybe he’s one of Remus’s knights. Maybe he’s Virgil’s fairy godfather. Who knows? He’s Janus, he can do what he wants. 

Plot wise, I’m not sure how much would change. I don’t think Logan would make a deal resulting in the Day/Night split— maybe Virgil would? If we go with that, we’ve got V running about with the faeries at night (that explains the eyeshadow, haha)(though that would open up some questions and plot holes about his gift/curse/blessing/whatever), and him letting Roman out (maybe this follows the magic sword thing from The Darkest Part of the Forest as opposed to your spider-shawl)(which, personally, I think is so much cooler). Roman then goes to Logan, and the two of them collect Patton and Virgil, who’d just come back from the revel? I’m not sure how it’d end, but probably with Roman and Remus getting along, Greta going to rest, true love saves the day, etc. etc. 

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading my mess of a “What if.” I really, thoroughly, truly loved reading LOAFT, and I get excited every time I get an email to tell me there’s been an update. Thanks for making such a cool series!

(Also, it’s worth mentioning that I’d never heard of The Darkest Part of the Forest before reading LAOFT. I borrowed it from my local library to read, and I don’t think you’ll ever understand how disappointed I was when there were not any witches, haha.)

---

V: this is so interesting, i love it sm!!!!!

[mandos-lightningbeforethunder]

Start Again - Chapter Seven (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: After being ambushed by the pair of Devaronians, you and the Mandalorian make the decision to expedite your journey into the city of Opseg. Upon your arrival, the city and its people welcome you with open arms and you find out more about what the Empire did to you while in their custody. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mentions of attack from the previous chapter, panic attacks, medical procedures including sedation, and VERY heavy discussion of forced sterilization. 

Author’s Note: This is my longest chapter yet at 3.2k words! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter and I hope I can be back on my regular update schedule. Feel free to reblog and like!

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE DIAGNOSIS

Trekking through the canyon might’ve been easier if you didn’t have such a debilitating headache. The bacta patch had healed the wound in your hairline, but your eye was still swelling and your head ached in a way that you hadn’t felt in months. In the back of your mind, a part of you really wished you had the Puvion leaves to alleviate the headache. The leaves had always worked better than any bacta spray or patch.

Your heart still raced at the thought of what happened earlier in the morning. Waking up to two Devaronians sniffing around your camp wasn’t exactly what you had in mind of a good morning. When they noticed you were awake, there was zero hesitation to take you out. They had even managed to do so quietly enough that it didn’t wake the Mandalorian.

The swelling at your eye aches as a reminder of how quickly they had managed to take you down. Your lack of training had made it easy, before you could even swing up your knife to defend yourself, the one Devaronian, Zek, punched you hard enough for you to see stars. There wasn’t much fight left in you after that.

When they noticed the Mandalorian, however, their motives changed. It wasn’t about kidnapping you and keeping you as their prize for the day, but instead getting the armor off the Mandalorian and selling it. Had they been successful they would’ve walked away with both you and possibly thousands of credits after pawning off the armor.  

But the Mandalorian had handled it, wielding his saber as he easily killed the two mercenaries. It still took your breath away thinking about how he had moved with it, fluid and precise. He may have held the weapon like it burned him, but he used it like second nature.

Your feet hit solid ground and you look up, eyeing the bustling city of Opseg around you. It was noisier than Tatooine. Children scream with joy as they run past you, disappearing into the crowd of people looking to buy the latest products. Fine jewelry and clothing were hung up on display, shopkeepers shouting prices to interested onlookers. The savory smell of vegetables cooking fills your nose and you turn to see another line of shops, these ones selling hot meals. The sights and sounds were both exciting and overwhelming all at the same time.  

“This is insane…” you say, laughing slightly. You had never experienced anything like this before, a city with life. Tatooine was nothing compared to this.

“It’s not insane, my dear! This is Opseg!” A voice shouts behind you, startling you. You turn and a green humanoid alien grins at you. The friendliness waving off this stranger is almost as overwhelming as Orus itself. You wondered if everyone on Orus was like this.

The Mandalorian steps just in front of you, putting a barrier between you and the stranger. You hadn’t hired him to be a bodyguard but given the events earlier this morning and your lack of training, you let it slide this time. Besides, you were tired of being snuck upon.

“Ah, apologies, my name is Ortib-Blik! But you can call me Obie for short,” The alien extends his hand out, clearing his throat when the Mandalorian doesn’t offer his hand in return. “I’m a tour guide here in Opseg. You looked lost, so I figured I’d offer my help.” He offers a sheepish smile when the Mandalorian doesn’t say anything.

“Hello Obie,” you greet, stepping to the side of the Mandalorian in order to introduce yourself. “We’re just passing through; we need to find a medcenter.”

“I’d assume it’s for that wound on your eye?” Obie asks, pointing at where your eye swells. You nod and he grins again. “Well, you’re just in luck, the medcenter is taking walk-ins today!”

“How much is a physical?” Mando asks from behind you.

“It’s free!” Obie exclaims, “Even to non-Orus citizens.”

“Is there work I can find here?” Mando asks and Obie’s expression changes.

“Yes, plenty! You look more like a hunter, so I’m sure if you were to stop by any of Opseg’s twenty cantinas you’d find something.”

You balk at the number, looking at the Mandalorian. You forget his facial expression is hidden by the helmet, but you can assume he’s also surprised. Twenty cantinas was an incredibly high amount and you couldn’t imagine the work going into finding a job would be worth it.  

“Thank you, Obie, but I think we’ll take it from here.” You offer a tight smile to the alien.

“Of course, of course! If you have any questions, don’t be afraid to shout!” He says, waving as he departs down the street.

“I think he was a lot nicer than the Devaronians that greeted us this morning,” you say, smiling when the Mandalorian sighs. “Too soon?” you chuckle.

“A little, yeah,” Mando says, turning around as he looked down the street. It seemed everywhere you look that it was teeming with life, people shouting and laughing. The shopkeepers yell over the playing children as parents stress over prices. This is way better than life on Puvo, you thought.

Puvo had its moments, the winter festival brought out a certain life in its citizens. Winter seasons were so rare that they celebrated the first indication of winter, whether it was a significant drop in temperature or animals beginning their hibernation. You had only ever experienced one festival and it was during the time your mind was still mending itself back together. But you remembered the laughing, the dancing, and the singing.

Valara had spent hours showing you how to braid her hair, repeating the motions over and over until you finally got it. She looked so happy dancing with that one boy from the neighboring village. Impressions meant everything on Puvo and she took it to heart when the boy didn’t offer another date after the festival. You had been too busy recovering to offer her any comfort, but Valara had moved on, throwing herself into work.  

They hadn’t even celebrated the last winter festival. There was too much work to be done, the council had announced. A cloud of depression remained over the village for some time. Valara mentioned it reminded her of when the Empire was still in power. The depressive atmosphere took a toll on your already weakened mental health. Try as she might, Valara’s grandmother struggled to pull you out of that episode. It had been one of the many deciding factors to leave Puvo, at least for the sake of your own well-being.

“We’re in the town square at the moment,” The Mandalorian says. The memories of Puvo fade as you focus your attention. “Medcenter shouldn’t be too far from here.”

“Right,” you murmur, “and what are you going to do while I’m being seen?”

“The guide said twenty cantinas, I have to start somewhere. Most of them are downtown. Small, shouldn’t be too hard to get through all of them before you’re done.” Mando replies, looking to you for confirmation. You nod.

The walk to the medcenter isn’t much. You manage to escape the craziness that’s the town square, there’s not as much yelling, but there’s still plenty of children running around their exasperated parents. It’s clear you’ve entered one of the housing areas, women and men alike staring as you both continue your path. The Mandalorian doesn’t seem to mind the stares. He’s probably used to it by now, you think.

The medcenter is daunting when you approach it. The all-white building amidst desert brown was shocking at first, freezing you in your movement as you stared at the twin doors in front of you. What if they found out something was wrong with you? What if it couldn’t be fixed? Your mind spirals at the idea of what could go wrong, words and thoughts jumbling together. Would they take you away from the Mandalorian? Send you back to Puvo so you can really get better? Institutionalize you? You weren’t that crazy…

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to the Mandalorian. He remains silent and you wonder if you’ve finally managed to make him angry.

“You can. I’ll be there with you the whole time.” He speaks.

“But-but you said you’d—”

“I know what I said earlier.” He murmurs, “But you’re clearly in distress and it’s better for me to stay close, especially in a city as big as this one. The cantinas can wait.”

You’re not sure if his words really soothe your nerves. Your heart is still racing at your earlier thoughts and it’s quickly becoming harder to breathe. He was promising to stay but would he be there when they read off what was wrong with you? Suddenly being on Puvo didn’t sound so bad after all.

You jump when the door opens behind you.

“Hello, I am Oralia. I am a nurse here at the Opseg Medical Center.” A Mirialan woman greets you. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The kindness in the woman’s voice makes you freeze again. You’re unsure what to say, what to tell her. Do you start with the current injuries you have? Do you tell her about your purpose for visiting before you were even attacked? Could she tell you were overloaded with anxiety? You were probably shaking like a wet Loth-cat.

“Miss, are you alright?” Oralia asks you and you shake your head. With gentle hands, she lifts your face, her warm eyes examining the wound by your eye and the peeling bacta patch. “Are you with her, sir?” Oralia asks the Mandalorian.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Let’s get her taken care of.” The nurse says, grasping your elbow with a comforting hand as she walks you through the doors. You can hear the Mandalorian’s boots just behind you as Oralia walks you past the front desk into a smaller room.

“Is she going to be alright?” The Mandalorian asks, watching as Oralia lays you on the examination table. The lights are too bright in this room, it’s almost a startling reminder of that nightmare you had days ago. Strapped down to a table and subjected to torture, you never wanted to experience that again. Not again, not again, not again…

“She is having a panic attack,” Oralia replies in a calm manner, placing a wet cloth against your burning forehead. Their voices sound distant, muted even as you try and get over this attack. It’s so much worse than the ones before, your limbs feel numb and weightless all at the same time and the sterile smell of the room fills your senses. It only makes the panic worse.

A whisper of “I’m sorry” and the white ceiling blurs above you, your eyelids become too heavy to keep open. Sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, the room is the same. White walls and white ceilings stare back at you as you try to take in your new environment. The softness of a bed fills the fists of your hands. They must’ve moved you while you were still sleeping. Sitting up, careful of the needle in your arm, you look around in confusion. Where was Mando? What happened? How long were you asleep for?

“It is good to see that you are awake,” a voice greets you. Oralia. The nurse from earlier.

“Where is the Mandalorian?” You ask, not sure whether or not you can trust her.

“He is out. I told him to walk off his anger.” The nurse replies. She walks over to your bedside and examines the IV needle in the crook of your elbow. The skin is bruised but you’re not sure if it’s her work or from the Devaronians from earlier.

“Does he know I’m awake?”

“He will return, I am sure. You needed fluids in your system as well as a proper examination, but only one of those things I could do while you were asleep.” Oralia replies, examining the needle in the crook of your elbow. Adjusting the bandages, she looks at you with a kind smile.

“Did I pass out?” The last moments before falling asleep aren’t clear, only a blur of pictures and muted dialogue.

“You did not. I sedated you. Your panic consumed you and even my years of training could not walk you down from that.” she murmurs, removing the needle from your vein with calm precision. A small bead of blood pools out and she wipes it away, before wrapping the tiny wound.

Bringing your hand to your face, you feel along where your eye had been bruised. Clearly, it had been treated in your sleep as the skin is no longer tender to your touch. The patch just before your hairline is also gone, the skin smooth with no evidence of a scar.

“I am surprised you made it as far as you did. The Mandalorian told me a great deal of what happened to you both this morning. A pair of Devaronians?”

“Yes,” you say in response. She doesn’t urge you for any more of the story, but you tell her anyways. “The Mandalorian held his own. I, well, I didn’t.” Oralia chuckles at your statement.

“You are brave.” She compliments and you feel your skin growing hot at the statement. “It takes a lot for a woman like you to travel the galaxy. Much less with a Mandalorian.”

“I’m searching for answers. I was a victim of the Imperials and they took my son from me. The Mandalorian is helping me find him.” You tell her and she hums, finishing her work on the bandage just in the crook of your elbow.

“You have other wounds,” Oralia says, this time her hand placing itself right above your heart. You look down at where her hand is and you nod, looking away from her in shame. “I will grab Dr. Orn.”

The door opens with a soft whoosh sound and Oralia departs. You’re left in silence, pondering over your thoughts again. You didn’t want to have another panic attack. Taking a deep breath, you think about where the Mandalorian may be. Oralia had told him to walk off his anger. Why had he been so angry? Was it because you were asleep for so long? Thinking on it, it was some of the best sleep you had in a long time. No nightmares, no memories weaving themselves into dreams.

A click and the door opens again, this time Oralia is followed by a human woman. Dr. Orn, you deduce. Dr. Orn quietly walks over to your bedside and examines what you think is your chart on a datapad. The information displayed is not in basic and you frown.

“Hello,” Dr. Orn greets you. She’s older, possibly a few years shy of Valara’s grandmother but her eyes hold the same kindness. Dr. Orn says your name and you blink, looking back up at her. “We did some bloodwork. First, I would like to welcome you to Orus and we’re grateful that you chose our medcenter as the place to handle your healthcare needs. Second, your bloodwork came back great.”

A sigh of relief. “That’s great,” you murmur and Dr. Orn smiles.

“Oralia did some investigating on your chain code and there’s no record of you in any system, not even ex-Imperial. I’m sure you were aware, as was the Mandalorian. He was kind enough to give us what little information you had on yourself. But given the current state of your health, you are in great shape. Minimal scarring from the leaves of Puvo, which is great. I’m sure you’re aware of the ongoing mental healing you’re going through, but with time, you can work through the nightmares and panic attacks. However, there is something I want to note.”

Dr. Orn displays the datapad to you, this time the information is in basic. A rundown of what medical records they could establish for you. One healthy pregnancy was just one of the few things that caught your eye.

“It’s great to see that you’ve been able to have a healthy pregnancy. Oralia tells me you had a son, about fifteen years ago, correct?” Dr. Orn asks you, pointing at the profile they had made of your son. It was blank except for his name and estimated age. You were listed as his mother, but the name underneath FATHER remained blank.

“Yes. Castin. He was about ten when he was taken from me,” you reply, hand reaching out to skim through the notes they had established for you. Most of the information was blank, mostly because it was unknown, even to you.

“Good, good, as you can already tell we’ve logged that in the file we created for you.” Dr. Orn smiles before she brings the datapad closer to herself and removing it from your view. “However, we detected some anomalies in your blood. A woman of your age should be producing the normal hormones that regulate a menstrual cycle. We found that there was a lack of most of those hormones. Can you tell me when your last cycle was?”

You open your mouth to give a quick answer but quickly realize you don’t know. When you had arrived on Puvo, Valara had explained it was a possibility that your cycle would be irregular, considering everything your body had been through. But now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t even noticed a lack in your cycle. You had been distracted by the ongoing therapy and work on Puvo.

“I-I don’t know…possibly after I gave birth to Castin but I don’t really remember,” you chewed at your bottom lip. What could it mean for you?

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dr. Orn sighs, looking back down at the datapad. Her fingers tap on the screen, possibly logging what you had said. “You see, when we did your blood test, we found the lack of hormones a sign that you were not having a regular cycle. It’s not unusual, travel can bring stress on the body and I’ve been informed of what happened in your past, but for you, it means something else. When the Empire had you in their custody, what exactly do you remember them doing to you?”

You can feel Oralia’s comforting hand on your lower back, rubbing circles to soothe your nerves. You weren’t sure if you actually felt soothed, but you took a deep breath.

“It’s mostly a blur, I remember the electrocution and how painful it was, but beyond that, I don’t know.” You inform her, your hands twisting together in your lap. Why was she dragging this out? How bad could it possibly be?

“I see,” Dr. Orn hums. You watch as her hand reaches out, resting on your knee. A gentle touch. “When the Empire had you in their custody, most likely while you were in between torture sessions, they performed a surgery to sterilize you. The lack of hormones in your blood and lack of cycle leads us to believe that this is true. I am terribly sorry that you had to suffer under their hand. If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.” Her face says it all, the sincereness in her tone and the sympathy in her eyes. The realization of the diagnosis hits you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Even with Oralia’s hand on your back, you weep.

Read Chapter Eight - Finally, A Lead here!

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Lullaby Reacts to Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit

@tortilla-of-courage I offer you mercy. Also no one mentioned wanting to be tagged on the last story on this series so it’s just you for right now I guess.

Also, this fic is called ‘Aunt Lullaby/Uncle Sheik On Time’s Sudden Acquisition Of Kids’ in my docs, but I’ve been using the ‘Batman-Level Adoption Bullshit’ for so long that this is the title now.

Also! Some of the boys have some heavy topics to their backstories (Wars comes to mind as an example), so let me know if I need to tag this with certain warnings or stuff. Nothing is actually shown, but I figured I’d just put that out there.

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

Lullaby, who was still just Zelda then, had been very excited when Time, then just Link, had called her to tell her that Malon was pregnant.

She had gotten the call first, as Link had found it important that she knew before anyone else. After everything else in his life, he said, he wanted the person who he knew would always be there for him to know first, and that he was going to be making a few other calls later that day.

Link had never had an easy life. When his father died when he was 10, he’d ended up devastated. Zelda and her Aunt Impa had found him hiding in an alley a few days after, once he’d run away from the social workers. His sister Navi had been with him, and the two were sorting through the very few bits of snack food they’d had. Link’s father had been a foster parent for a lot of strays, orphans, or abused kids needing another place to stay. Link had fallen into the orphan category, and so the social workers had planned to cycle him back into the system. He’d lost contact with his sister Saria, whom he still hadn’t found out how to make contact with again, and so all he had was Navi. Impa had taken them both in on the spot, much to the annoyance of Zelda’s father initially, but the two grew on him. Navi went missing when Link and Zelda had been 17, after an issue with a man who really had wanted to see them both dead. Link hadn’t given up hope yet, but with every passing year it looked worse and worse for her to be okay.

Zelda had known Malon from day one, and had loved Link’s wife and was so happy to see him find that bit of happiness. The one thing she knew he wanted more than anything else was to have a solid, stable family of his own.

The pregnancy was a wonderful bit of news, and she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

She had spent some time over at their house, her then-girlfriend Ruto coming as well, helping Malon with some of the housework and such since she wasn’t supposed to be doing too much of the ranch work while pregnant.

She had arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes after she got the call that Malon was in labor, and spent the time pacing in the hall, then supporting Link when he got kicked out after panicking too much. Apparently Malon had enough of him.

She could relate.

After Link had his whole ‘we made a whole baby person’ moment where his brain short-circuited after he was handed his son, the next person who got to hold him was Zelda. A chubby baby, who slept almost the whole time. He had his mother’s nose, thank Hylia.

Zelda saw him open his eyes only once that day, and she could swear she saw in his cobalt-silver eyes that same spark in his father’s eye. Singular, since Link only had the one.

Zelda’s family had a long tradition of naming their kids after family members. Her name was her grandmother’s and her great-grandmother’s, so on so forth. Her father had been pressing to pick a family name the entire pregnancy. Her mother had kept telling him to back off a little. Fortunately, Malon’s family also had a set of passed down names, hers being one of them. So the idea of naming the child after family wasn’t a big deal for her, even if it was a different set of names.

However, there was one thing to take into account here, and that was Link’s family.

No one knew what the naming traditions in his family were, he didn’t even know his birth parent’s names. But that didn’t change the desire to find a way to work them in too.

There was only one name from Link’s family that anyone knew.

The baby was named Link.

Zelda’s father stopped complaining a week later. Her mother was very clear about it.

At Zelda and Ruto’s wedding seven years later, Link Jr. was the ring bearer.

Junior stopped being his nickname when he was thirteen.

(---)

Zelda got a call from Link Sr. about a day after it happened with a simple request.

“Who was in charge of the paperwork when your family adopted me?”

Zelda blinked once, then twice. “Come again?”

“The lawyer who arranged for my adoption, who was that?” Link asked again.

“Why?” Zelda asked, her wife leaning around the doorframe to give her a concerned look. Zelda shot her a thumbs up.

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “I think I’ve acquired another son,”

Zelda came over.

This new nephew of hers, apparently, was a sweet boy. A series of scars littered his entire left side, burn and explosive damage if she were to guess, and he had no idea how he got them. He had amnesia. The one thing he did know was his name.

His name was Link.

Zelda had to take a minute. She was trying very hard not to laugh. This was exactly the kind of luck her brother had.

“Zelda, stop mocking me, this wasn’t my call,” Link whined, though he’d never say it was a whine.

“Link, you have to see the humour here,” she gasped, waving at the two boys in the living room where Jr. was trying to show Scars how to use a lasso. This was Zelda’s idea, but she wasn’t taking responsibility for it.

Link just sighed heavily. “Link found him on the street. Malon looked into it and his parents died in a car crash a year ago, he has nowhere to go. We’ve agreed to let him stay, you understand that,”

Zelda nodded, sobering up some. “Yeah, I get that, kinda. The lawyer we hired was named Rauru, Mom should have his contact information still, you should call her,”

Link sighed, relieved. “Thank you,”

“Of course, just don’t make it a habit,”

(---)

The first inclination this would be a habit was a year later.

Wild, the younger of his sons, was in the same class as another boy named Link. This boy had lived with his uncle his whole life, and got the call his uncle died when at school. Sheik was about ready to punch someone for doing that to the boy, and just before christmas no less.

Wild brought him home, insisting he could stay at least for the holidays. The agreement wasn’t even a question, there was no way he was going to be forced to spend a holiday at an orphanage.

When Sheik and Ruto showed up on christmas day, not that their family cared much for christmas but they were all off anyways, the newest Link had been named Legend.

He was a little more shy than the others, understandably, and a little snappish.

Not a bad kid, just one grieving and in need of family. That was something their family had never hesitated to provide.

Sheik’s mother teaching him how to spin a butterfly knife was probably not the wisest decision, but considering Rottla heard a therapist say “Your kids are traumatized, they need to feel safe again,” and decided to sign them up for every martial arts she could, well, it should have been a sign that she wasn’t the best in that regard. Time, Link Sr., had made it very clear he felt Sheik took after her. Sheik had no idea what his brother was talking about.

Legend didn’t leave after that. One call to Rauru, and Legend was a permanent member of the family.

Sheik took great pride in being the favorite Uncle of Legend’s, after his late guardian of course. He pointedly ignored that he was the only Uncle, and only part-time.

Time could suck it.

(---)

Lullaby, since so many of her nephews’ friends were named Zelda apparently, received a call at five am.

True, she knew her brother and his wife woke up at sunrise to do yard work and such, but usually they were kind enough to let her sleep in.

Not so this morning.

“Wha?” She mumbled into the phone, trying, and failing, to not wake her wife.

“Zelda,” came Malon’s clipped tone through the receiver, “do you know about a missing person’s case for one Jerimiah Smith?”

Zelda blinked heavily, and had to convince herself not to go back to sleep. Who, why did Malon care? It was five am, the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Why?” She asked to buy time, still working on a quarter of thought. Ruto rolled over and held her. Not helping, Ruto.

“I have a Link Smith in my barn claiming that his grandfather went missing, and he’s run away from a temporary foster home,” Malon explained, and okay that was worth waking up for.

Lullaby sat up, pushing Ruto’s arm from her waist to her lap, causing her wife to grumble, and turned on the lamp, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Okay, okay pause. Pause and back up,” she half-swallowed a yawn, squinting into her bedroom. “What is going on?”

“I got up to do some work, since Link is still asleep, and I came into the barn to find a boy asleep in the hay, here you are,” her voice dropped away from the receiver, likely talking to the boy in question, then came back. “So I found a boy in the hay, and I woke him up. He says his name is Link Smith, and he was living with his grandfather since his father was overseas in the military. His father wasn’t home enough to care for him, so his grandfather had sole custody after his mother died or something, there was a lot of tears at this part. Anyways, his grandfather went missing a week ago, and he’s been through three foster homes and none of them were very accepting of, he apparently has a ‘mental thing’ that he’s dealing with. I was wondering if you could confirm his story?”

Lullaby leaned over the bed, grumbling, and grabbed her laptop, Ruto giving up on getting her back to bed and sliding up the headboard with her to drape over her shoulders while she pulled up Firefox. “Hold on,” she told her sister in law, plugging the name into Google. Jeremiah Smith, went missing a week ago, blah blah blah, oh there we go.

Link Smith, grandson of Jerimiah Smith, left in limbo after his grandfather’s disappearance. Oh, that was interesting. According to this article, which most certainly was breaking some privacy laws and if Link Smith was staying it would be coming down, the boy had multiple personality disorder.

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Lullaby said, switching the phone to her other ear so Ruto could nuzzle up better without bumping it. “Also, I found his weird ‘mental thing’. According to this article, which I’m pretty sure isn’t legal, he’s got dissociative identity disorder,”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ruto mumbled, still mostly asleep on her shoulder.

“No, not really. He’s actually more likely to be in danger than a danger,” she twisted to kiss her wife’s head, then went back to Malon. “He probably really needs someone who’ll be supportive enough through all this, both the disappearance and his condition. DID isn’t something easy to live with, I can see him having some issues with foster parents,” Lullaby had never been so glad that she got bored one day and decided to look it up after she heard people talk about it so negatively. You never know when information like that would be useful.

“He’s fine to take in?” Malon whispered after a moment. “I just, the other boys,”

“Will need to be patient, but unless one of his alters is particularly bad for dealing with threats, perceived or otherwise, in an unkind way then he’s fine and safe to be around. I’d ask him about that, but don’t force him to admit anything that can be bad for him, but I don’t see any more risk than taking in Wild or Legend,”

Malon sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll bring him in and wake up Link, so he can call Rauru about all this while I sit with him and try and get him to relax,”

“Wonderful, I’ll call the office and see about what I can do about this article then. And for the record, if you ever call me at asscrack of dawn o’clock in the morning again, then next time we meet I’m clocking you,”

Malon had the nerve to laugh.

Four, as he’d been nicknamed by the time Lullaby and Ruto showed up to meet him, was a fascinating person. Green, the host of his system, was a brave, if occasionally airheaded, boy who wanted to try everything, and had been fascinated by his grandfather’s old-timey forge. Time had plans to make one in the yard for him. Red, the emotional and spiritual protector of the system, was empathetic and sweet and compassionate. No one had a bad word to say about Red. Vio, short for Violet, was the gatekeeper for the system and kept the four of them working on the same page. Bright and clever boy, his nose stuck in a book most of the time and willing to offer up the most random and yet useful information. Blue, the physical protector, was a little gruff and definitely someone you just got used to, but he cared deeply about his ‘brothers’ as they called each other, and the external brothers he acquired grew on him quickly enough too. It was a bit of a fight to get custody of him, but Rauru was the best there was, so it was only a week or two before the paperwork was going through for him.

Lullaby had a feeling this wasn’t the end by a long shot, and prayed that Hylia would be merciful about granting Time’s wish for a family.

She was going a little overboard.

(---)

Sheik wasn’t surprised in the least at the newest addition when he walked in the one day. No, mostly he was just confused as to why he hadn’t gotten a phone call before he got there.

Usually there was a phone call.

He was very upset by the way the boy looked, however.

This new addition, Warriors as he’d learn later that Time acquired yet another Link, was curled up in the corner of the couch with his scarf wrapped around him like a blanket, clearly trying not to be seen. Voices floated out of the kitchen, and Sheik picked up that Twilight brought him home, and was lobbying for a new brother.

Ah, that’s why there was no phone call.

Ruto went to investigate the conversation, so Sheik decided to introduce himself to his newest nephew.

Upon closer inspection, the boy looked about Twilight’s age, and had a bruise on his temple, maybe a day or two old now. Looking closer saw a few more on the left side of the boy’s face. Someone hit him, with purpose.

Sheik sat down next to him and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually, he poked his head out of his scarf.

“Hello,” Sheik offered once it became clear he wouldn’t be saying anything.

“Hullo,” he mumbled into the fabric, glancing away and back at his feet.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik offered lightly. “Time is my brother,”

The boy looked up, eying him. “Twilight is your nephew?”

“Yes, he is,” Sheik nodded, smiling at him. “You’re a friend of his?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda,” a beat of silence passed, then he shifted around. “He said I’d be safe here,”

“You will be,” Sheik agreed, trying to be comforting. “I can assure you of that,”

He hummed and snuggled back into his scarf.

“May I, if this isn’t overstepping, can I ask why you need somewhere to be safe?” Sheik asked after a moment.

He tensed up, eyes darting to him and at the doorway, and then back, wide eyes a little panicked.

Sheik was just about to apologize when the boy spoke.

“I ran away from home,” he admitted, looking away. “My uh, my parents aren’t, great people. I can’t go back, so I need somewhere else to go. Twi said I could be safe here, that his parents would fight for me,”

“They will,” Sheik said with enough conviction it almost startled him. “I know my brother, and he can’t turn away from someone in need, and his wife is the most strong willed woman I’ve ever met. You won’t find another pair of people more willing to go to war for you than them.”

He blinked at Sheik, then nodded, relaxing a little. “And, if my parents come for me?”

Sheik grinned. “My family is very rich, and we have a small army of very good lawyers. You won’t be going back there, I assure you,”

He smiled, and leaned over towards Sheik a little. “I’m Link,”

Of course you are, Sheik thought. He held out an arm for ‘Link’ to lean into, not getting attached to the name since it would be changing. The boy leaned into his side easily, deflating against him with a sigh. He looked so tired.

“Link,” Sheik asked carefully, watching his words. “Can I ask about the bruises on your face?”

The boy blinked up at him, biting his lip.

“They uh, my dad did that,” he admitted in a small voice, curling into Sheik’s side, and the sheikah pulled him in close to his side, hoping to provide the comfort Link was seeking. “Right before I left. I packed up and went through the window. My twin sister is still there, and I’m a little worried about her, but I can’t go back again. I, he,” he paused, sucking in a breath. Sheik rubbed his arm and side, trying to help him calm down, ignoring the tears on his shirt.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Link finally admitted in a small, scared voice.

Sheik knew he never had very many parental instincts, and he and Ruto agreed no kids before they even got engaged, but for the first time ever Sheik felt that flare that Time and Malon described everytime something threatened their kids. It was then and there Sheik decided this boy would be part of their family, whether Time was the one who took him in or not. No kid should have to say that and mean it. No kid should be scared their parent was going to kill them.

Oh, the lawyers Sheik was planning on bringing down on whoever these assholes were would be many.

Time took the boy in, as Sheik predicted (thankfully), and sure enough the immediate support was immense. His parents never even put out a missing persons report. Sheik added child negligence to his list of growing charges to lay out.

Two months after Warriors moved in, he got a call from his sister. She got out and was safe now, and wanted to be sure he was as well. This made him very relieved. They met up once or twice, and seemed to be getting back to normal.

Two weeks later, Legend and Wild got suspended distracting Warriors’ parents so Twilight could sneak him out the back of the school. Four didn’t get suspended, but only because when Vio messed with the security cameras to cover up the escape he didn’t get caught. Time took all three out for ice-cream and junk food when he picked them up.

Lullaby saw an opportunity and took it without hesitation. Lawyers were called and organized, and without much wait there was an order for both of them to appear in court on child abuse and negligence charges. The kidnapping charge laid against them in retaliation was almost laughable.

A few weeks later, Time and Malon had full custody of Warriors pending a proper criminal trial for full punishment of his parents, at which time Linkle, Warriors’ twin sister, planned to testify as well. If they couldn’t get things settled before Warriors turned 18, then they planned to push through an adult adoption the day he did. A birthday present, Time had said. Lullaby laughed.

(---)

Sky was probably the most skittish of Time’s sons.

Lullaby wasn’t sure entirely why he was so skittish, but he was. He reminded her of a bird, or a rodent, or a cat who really, really didn’t want to interact with new people.

She had been briefed before she visited on Sky’s background. His social worker had been having trouble setting him up with a home where he’d stay for longer than a week or so, and in a last ditch effort had asked Time and Malon, with their long track record of housing troubled and unhousable youths, if they could take one more. They agreed.

Sky apparently had a friend, a bit of a troublemaker if Lullaby guessed correctly, who had gotten the two arrested. Time mentioned the event had Sky concerned about being ‘too much trouble’ and that ‘they’d get rid of him too’ or something. Time said this was ridiculous, as Sky caused him the least amount of trouble, but the boy was concerned about being thrown away again. He apparently had a few self-worth issues.

Lullaby found him on the back porch talking to the birds. Not in any human language, mind you, and Lullaby spoke many, but cooing and chirping back at them. He seemed very happy and at ease like that, singing at the birds.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked in a whisper during a pause in the conversation.

Sky jumped, eyes wide, and he squirmed a little when he saw her. “Uh, sure, I guess,”

She sat on the other end of the bench next to him, and calmly went back to watching the birds, and him interacting with them. He seemed much more at ease here than he did with people.

“Did you need something?” He asked, after a while, letting a blue jay grab a peanut from his hand.

“Not specifically,” she shook her head. “I had wanted to meet you, but nothing else,”

He blinked at her a little dumbly.

“Why would you want to meet me?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked back, not sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly special. And, it’s not like I’m staying,”

“I think you’re pretty special, most people can’t get birds to land on their hands like that,” Lullaby said gently, not liking how he spoke about himself. “And why would you think you aren’t staying?”

“I never stay,” he admitted, turning his eyes back to the birds, frowning. “No one ever considers me worth the effort,”

“You are very much worth the effort,” Lullaby countered, trying her best to keep her face soft instead of pinching up. “Trust me, however much effort you are, it is nowhere near the level of your brothers. Time wouldn’t have taken you in if he didn’t want you,”

“He’s just doing Impa a favour,” he said glumly, offering up more birdseed to the birds. “I won’t be staying forever,”

“I’m sure my brother has explained why that’s bullshit,” Lullaby said bluntly.

“But, I got arrested,” he mumbled.

“So have three of your brothers,” Lullaby pointed out. “Regularly. For much worse things. I promise you, that is not an issue,”

“But,”

“If you are going to say something bad about yourself again then I’m telling you right now I’m not going to listen to it,” Lullaby cut him off. “Time has told me a lot about you, and all of it is how much he loves you,”

“Really?” Sky looked up at her.

“You cause him the least amount of headaches of all his sons,” Lullaby smiled. “He adores you,”

Sky turned away, clearly trying to think that over.

“How about you tell me more about the things you enjoy doing,” Lullaby suggested.

“Huh?” Sky asked, turning back to her.

“I’d like to get to know more about what makes my nephew happy,” she smiled.

“Why?”

“Well, I’d be a bad aunt if I didn’t, especially since you’ll be sticking around,”

Sky looked like he didn’t believe her, but told her about his woodcarving anyways.

Lullaby was happy that as time went on Sky became less skittish and self-deprecating. He was a sweet kid, and as he got more comfortable and confident more of his true colours started showing through.

She felt a bit bad for Time, though. Apparently he was as prone to chaos as his brothers, he was just more subtle about it.

Time brought it on himself though. He should have known this when he adopted six boys.

(---)

The call about the next son had Lullaby’s head hitting her kitchen table, groaning loudly even when Ruto came to check on her.

Wild found a boy in the woods and they’d decided to keep him.

This was getting to be just a bit too much.

When Sheik and Ruto got to meet the boy, they were a bit taken aback. They had expected another Wild.

What they got was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself. He was a bit shy, but he seemed to open up a bit more around Wild and, amusingly, Legend. He was a bit jumpy, but considering they had no idea how long he was in the woods that was expected.

What was surprising them most was that he did actually have a mother, who loved him very much, but who was very sick and so wasn’t able to actually take care of him, thus the wandering in the woods. His mother had been very worried, but physically unable to look. She had asked family to check but they gave up pretty quickly.

In light of her family being horrible for taking care of her son, and not knowing if she’d survive her illness, she asked Malon and Time if they could take care of her son for her since she clearly couldn’t trust her relatives and the boy’s father had abandoned them the moment she decided to keep him.

Time and Malon had taken one look at the boy and their sons, and agreed. They worked out an arrangement to keep the boy’s mother in the loop, and then they called Rauru. After which Time called his sibling.

This boy’s name was also Link. Sheik did not feel bad about laughing. Really, his brother had the weirdest luck.

They, for some reason, decided his nickname would be Hyrule. Why they decided to name him after the country, Sheik didn’t know. Apparently it was the only nickname he liked.

He had trouble reading, but he liked learning, especially if he could use what he learned to help people.

He fit right in, which made Sheik wonder exactly when his brother was going to stop adopting. He hoped it was before the ranch house ran out of room.

(---)

Eight. He stopped at eight.

Which was still too many, in Sheik’s opinion, but whatever.

The newest hellraiser at least didn’t come from the streets like almost all of the others.

This Link (because yes, his name was Link too) had recently lost his parents and his grandmother couldn’t financially support both him and his sister. So Time and Malon agreed to take care of him for her. The rest of their sons all acquired a grandma as well, it seemed.

They nicknamed him Wind, and he immediately latched onto his older brothers and started giving his new parents headaches.

When Lullaby and Ruto showed up next, she felt no sympathy for her brother. He brought this on himself.

She was more than a little pissed off when the brat stole her wallet though. Damn thief.

Time assured her that they’d talk to him about it. Lullaby wasn’t sure that’d help.

But, she reasoned, despite the chaos, Time was happy. Practically giddy. He lit up whenever he spoke about his sons, and he clearly loved them dearly.

Hylia had granted his wish for a family. She maybe went a bit overboard, but as long as Time was happy, so was Lullaby.

(---)

She wasn’t commenting on the ninth kid. She refused.

At least his name wasn’t ‘Link’.