#but god do people still think they’re biological

[mjrtaurus]

Have you considered the comedy potential? Of Dragon and Robin teaming up to pull on of the biggest pranks in history?

And by that I mean they pretend to be father daughter

Cause like the theory is awesome but it’s so much funnier if the whole thing is just them lying

Dragon (known homosexual) - ah yes this is my daughter who I got from a woman I was in a sexual relationship with

Robin (known shitdisturber) - yes it is I his daughter who was produced through sexual intercourse with my female mother.

The whole thing gets way too out of hand during the two year arc and results in one very angry ex warlord kicking down Dragons door.

You’re right, this is so much funnier.

And people believe it because not only do they look similar enough to pull it off, but Robin’s weirdgirl energy and Dragon’s commit to any and all bits energy just. Click. Right into place. No gaps. Seamless.

I’m on Zou Arc right now and Robin is fucking with everyone like “my god, they’re cannibals”. Meanwhile, if he were there, Dragon- 100% running with her shit-stirring because it’s the funniest thing ever- would have gone “can they really be called cannibals since they’re Mink? Or does the term apply to all sapient humanoid species?” Cut to Usopp screaming because if the leader of the Revs (who’s there for whatever reason) is saying that, then it MUST be true!

Except everyone knows he’s bullshitting because everyone knows- including him- that Robin is bullshitting.

And it just kind of happens one day at the end of a discussion, back in her two year stay on Baltigo. Dragon’s been talking with her a lot, getting to know her, making sure she knows that she’s as welcome and accepted among the RA as she is with the Strawhats. The standard practice of “feed the stray cat so they know you’re a nice human and can be trusted”. You know the one.

Just.

A sip from the drink in her hand, like she’s already concocting more schemes.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, but some have been asking me- indirectly at least- if I’m your daughter. And I’ve been telling a few fibs here and there because of it.”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s fighting a grin.

“Interesting… What sort of fibs, for the sake of keeping the story straight?”

Full shit-stirrer to shit-stirrer communication. Except it goes a little too well when Robin has reunited with the Strawhats for a while, and Dragon gets a very livid call from his dear and beloved nicotine addicted reptile. Accusing him of… sleeping with a woman? How rude! How unoriginal!

And that’s how Dragon learns that Robin’s been using her talents for fucking with people in a “good and friendly” manner to routinely put Crocodile through the wringer. Untraceable calls in the middle of the night that have the man feeling like he needs to be locked in a padded cell. Seastone muzzle and straitjacket optional.

The sudden shock of that revelation makes Dragon break, and then he’s cackling and wheezing like a madman until even the snail is concerned for his health.

“Wani, are you really that surprised that she would gaslight you for fun?”

“… Fair point…”

Oh, if Robin wasn’t going to get adopted into his dysfunctional garbage fire of a family before, she definitely is now.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty one

authors note: foreshadowing? planted seeds? twists? who knows.

cw/tw: angst, fluff, and drama

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“You know we should probably be getting up soon.”

“Probably.”

Solana waits for him to move. He doesn’t, but neither does she. “Ro?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t moved.”

He makes a sound, hands shifting just a bit, clearly trying to be mindful of the Saniderm still covering one of her new tattoos. “Neither have you.”

Solana opens her mouth to protest, but she can’t, because he’s right. They’ve been in this position for a good hour now, him laying on top of her, in between her legs, hugging her, head resting comfortably on her chest as she plays with his hair that’s down, free, in its natural state. 

It’s comfortable, to say the least. She enjoys being laid up with him, being close to him, but she also knows that they have a long day ahead of them, a day that can’t start as long as they’re still in bed together.

Even Dulce who snores quietly in her newest princess bed.

“True,” she agrees. “But, I can’t move unless you move, so….”

Roman grunts quietly, adjusting himself on top of her. “I’m not moving.”

“Ro…..”

“How have you been feeling?”

Somehow, Solana knows exactly what he’s referring to despite it being a general, almost vague question. 

“The morning sickness has gotten a little better.” Thank God. That constant feeling of nausea as well as having to vomit every morning was becoming borderline unbearable. “No bleeding….” Her voice lowers. Solana doesn’t really like talking about that situation. Regardless of everything being, hopefully, okay now, it was still a terrifying experience that she’d rather not revisit. 

And something tells her that her husband feels the same way. 

“Good,” he murmurs, hand moving to the side of her, finger moving in absent, shapeless motions. When he says nothing, Solana finds herself giggling, small smile growing on her face. 

“You’re really not gonna move, are you?”

A second of delay. Like he’s really considering it. Like he’s actually going to move. “Naw.”

Rolling her eyes, Solana once again is reminded that as big and strong as her husband can be, he most definitely has his “big baby” moments.

And speaking of baby….

“So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Yes?”

“Until we go public with the pregnancy, or start telling people, if I start to get sick—”

At that, he lifts his head, gaze focused on her. “Sick?”

“Morning sickness,” she clarifies, keeping her hand in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp. “I need to be able to tell you without….ya know….telling you.” 

He nods. “I agree.”

“So, I came up with something. At least…at least for tonight.” Because keeping this pregnancy a secret for at least the next 2 or 3 months will most likely continue to be a challenge that they have to navigate together. “If I sit on your lap—”

“I like it already.”

She rolls her eyes, ignoring his sly remark. “—and I squeeze your thigh—”

He makes a sound, dipping his mouth to kiss the top of her chest. “I really like that—”

“Then I’m starting to feel sick, and we need to leave.” She bites down on her bottom lip, suddenly unsure if what she’d come up with makes sense. “Is—is that okay?”

Roman chuckles. “Baby, you had me sold at sitting on my lap.” Of course, she did. “Are you sure you want to do this today?” 

This refers to two things. One being meeting and speaking with her biological father, and the second being her informing the rest of her maternal family of their kinship.

She's nervous as shit about both, but she also knows that she needs to do this.

For herself.

"I am," she answers, nodding to herself. "I have to."

He doesn't say anything, and she's grateful. Grateful that even if he doesn't outright agree, he's still being supportive, because that's just who he is to her. A support system.

And it's one of the man reasons she loves him.

When the silence continues, Solana decides to switch gears a little. Take advantage of this time they have together. “Well, since you still haven’t moved….” Her voice is initially teasing before slipping into something more serious. “I know you don’t want me training during this pregnancy, and I agree, but I don’t—I don’t want to stop learning altogether.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” she cuts him off, unsurprised when he lifts his head to look at her. “I’ve been texting Afia, and she—”

“Afia?” Finally, Roman sits up and moves off her, but it’s not for the reasons she was hoping. “Since when do you talk to her?”

“Ro…..” She’s careful with her words, trying to be respectful of Roman’s boundaries but also recognizing her autonomy. “She’s your brother’s wife. My sister-in-law….” Solana’s hand drops to her stomach. “Their kids will be the girls' cousins. If you….if you aren’t ready to try to build a relationship with Matteo, that….that’s fine, but—I like Afia. She’s nice, and we get along well. And she’s been going to the shooting range, and I wanna go with her.”

Roman looks away, and Solana readies to say something else, but she stops when she sees that he’s clearly deep in thought. Most likely trying to combat logic with emotion. Trying to find a balance between what he wants and what she wants. 

“I don’t know, Sol. I don’t know her well enough to trust you with her.”

“That’s why you’ve gotta trust me,” is her soft response. Solana scoots over to him, holding onto his muscular arm. “Trust my judgment.” Eager to help him further consider her perspective, she points out, “not being able to train at all is going to be hard for me, Ro. I need something.”

It’s already been hard for her. Solana has gotten used to the routine and empowerment that comes with feeling herself grow stronger, psychologically and physically. And sure, once her pelvic rest restrictions are lifted, there’s a small chance she could continue to train, just in a different capacity. However, she doesn’t want to take any chances, and she knows Roman feels the same way.

Thus, this feels like an appropriate substitution. Because truth be told, being his wife, and not even knowing how to properly hold a gun, let alone use it, feels almost like a crime. Solana doesn't like weapons, especially guns, but it feels naive and almost irresponsible to not at least know how to use one.

Even if she prays that day never comes. 

“What if I teach you?” He suddenly suggests, eyes almost hopeful. “If you want to learn, it should be from the best.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that. She’s heard people talk about as such. Not only does Roman excel at hand to hand combat, which she’s seen for herself, his aim is impeccable.

He never misses.

“I’d be okay with that,” she agrees, voice trailing. “But, I want to learn from Afia as well.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“Just like training with a woman is different from training with a man, I think…I think learning how to shoot might be the same.” Perhaps. She’s not entirely certain, but it leads into her next point. “And, I would just feel better learning from the both of you.” She kisses his shoulder, a small smile forming on her face. “But, if it helps, I really want to learn the spear from you. Only you.”

Solana is relieved to see his small grin as well. “You still on that spear obsession?”

She pouts, defending herself. “It’s not an obsession. It’s just….it seems effective. Like…like a finishing move, almost.” 

When coming from her husband, at least. She’s certain she could never inflict nearly as much damage as he could, largely because of the differing experience. Mostly because Roman is fucking huge. 

Almost 300lbs of pure muscle coming at someone with all that weight and speed?

Yeah….recipe for disaster. 

Or worse.

The thought pattern cause her to ask something she’d heard but hasn’t had a chance to inquire about. “Is it true you ruined someone’s career with a spear? Brock something?”

It’s not missed on her how he tenses a bit. “Yeah. Old college football rivalry that bled into the ring.” Roman scoffs, his hand moving to her knee, thumb caressing her skin. “I’ll admit. Fucker was the most physically challenging opponent I’ve ever faced.” Her eyes widen at that. Roman being challenged by anyone in that way seems and almost feels impossible. “We went at it a couple times, but the last one, I speared him, he went down badly on his right leg, the dominant one, and fucked it up real good. Ended any chance he had at going pro.”

Solana nods, taking it all in. “He wasn’t….he wasn’t in….ya know, the business?” For some reason, it feels almost strange asking about that. Asking about someone’s affiliation, membership, or lack thereof, in the crime world. Mostly because Solana was always left out of these conversations by Xavier, her preference at the time. 

Not necessarily, anymore. 

Roman scoffs, shaking his head. “He tried, but he was a dumbass farm boy who didn’t have the mental capability to make it or be successful." She winces, partially feeling bad. 

Curious, Solana inquires, “whatever happened to him?”

Roman shrugs, answering, “last I heard he bought a shit ton of land and does farming. I don’t know beyond that, and I don’t really fucking care to be honest with you.” Fair and expected for her husband. “What I care about is you and keeping you safe.”

His smooth redirection back to the conversation at hand is impressive, but as is the case with most things Roman Reigns related. “I will be safe, Roman. I just….training also helps me to feel safe, so I need something else to help me with that in the time being.” And when he looks at her, partially concerned, she already knows what he’s thinking. “You always make me feel safe, Ro. The safest I’ve ever felt in my life, but I—I also need to be able to provide that for me. Learning how to fight and defend myself has been so good for me. Please….please let me keep it going.”

Solana watches and waits quietly, allows and prays her words settle into her overprotective husband. She can understand why this could be hard for him, but she hopes his faith and trust in her overpowers any mistrust he might have in Afia.

“Alright,” he acquiesces. “If this is really what you want—”

“It it,” she speaks up, excitement growing at the possibility of his approval. “It really is.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “Then you can do it.” Solana giggles and holds his arm, hugging him. “But, I want Bautista with you at all times—”

“Of course.” An easy thing to agree to, Solana readying to ask Roman why and if Solo will ever return to being included in her personal security detail when he transitions the topic.

“Since we’re talking about shit…” Roman moves off the bed, Solana frowning and watching him walk over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, pulling out two letters that she focuses on as he climbs back on the bed. Handing them both to her, she reads her name on both letter as he shares, “these are for you….”

The confusion grows, weighing down her furrowed brows. “What—what are they?” Her question is premature as she notices the sender. 

Pacific Life

Her frown deepens. 

“What…..”

Roman nods gently. “Open em’.”

Solana still has so many questions, but they’re questions that clearly can only be answered by opening said letters. 

And, that’s exactly what she does.

Solana has always been a quick reader, so it doesn’t take long for her to come to some level of understanding. Pacific Life is clearly a life insurance company, and said letters both say the exact same thing, with the main difference being the names listed on each.

One is Xavier Miller, and the other is Wesley Miller.

And both include checks. 

“Oh my God…..” Solana’s hand slaps over her mouth, her eyes widening as she takes in the amount. The same on both checks.

$15,000,000.00

Wide eyes darting up to her husband, she drops her hand, mouth ajar. “I dont…..what?”

Roman moves his hand to her cheek, voice as gentle as his gaze. “I settled Xavier’s debts to keep them from coming after you—”

Solana’s stomach flips. “Roman—”

“And clearly, Xavier had Wes as his beneficiary for his life insurance policy and vice versa for Wesley. With them both dead and you last of kin, that makes you the beneficiary of both policies."

Nothing he’s saying is any different from what’s included in both letters outside of Roman paying off Xavier’s debt, something she both hates and loves. Hates her husband did anything for that man but recognizes and loves that he did it for her, did it to keep those debts from being sacked onto her.

But, regardless, there’s something so mind-blowing about opening two letters and finding oneself is now thirty million dollars richer.

“I don’t—I can’t—” Her words are choppy, similar to her many, fleeting thoughts. “I don’t want anything from them.”

Roman sighs, his response calm and supportive. “I figured you’d say that, and I respect it. I’ll respect whatever you decide to do.” It’s obvious there’s more, that he has additional thoughts, thoughts that he goes on to share. “But Sol, they put you through hell. You deserve this and so much more. It doesn’t change what happened, but maybe with this, you can do something good.”

Solana listens to him. Listens to the valid points he makes. This money most definitely doesn’t take back any of the horrors she experienced at the hands of those men, but the money….the money could be used for something, as Roman pointed out, good. 

A thought crosses her mind, as she suggests almost tentatively, “Like starting a college fund for the girls?”

Roman’s smile is small and slightly amused. “I don’t think we need to worry about paying for college, Sol.”

Fair. Sometimes, Solana forgets her husband is an actual billionaire.

A similar thought arises. "Or what about my schooling?"

"No." He shoots that down almost immediately. "I'm paying for that for you." Which makes sense, yes, but if she can afford it now with all this money, why not?

Roman shakes his head. “Just take some time and think about it,” his encouragement is gentle. “That and what you want to do with the house, too….”

Her eyebrows furrow. “The house?” Roman says nothing, but the way his expression softens almost sympathetically is all the answer she needs.

“Oh…..” 

The house she grew up in. The house that holds so many memories. Good. Bad. Some unidentifiable space in between. 

Yeah... she most definitely has to think about that.

“Okay.” A quiet, single word of agreement. Roman leans forward and kisses her temple, his hand settling over her stomach. 

His conciliatory touch is conjoined with a gentle, “let’s get ready.”

—----

The meeting with Darnell takes place at a restaurant. One Roman had cleared out just for this reason. A meeting she's instantly regretting the moment she walks in, her husband close by her side.

Her eyes land on the table where the other man sits, nervously bouncing his leg up and down. She takes a brief second to search his face, searching for any signs of similarities.

Nothing stands out to her.

And when they're close enough to him, Darnell also stands up and sets his focus on her, his eyes widening and instantly softening as he takes her in, studying her from top to bottom. Solana diverts her gaze and unconsciously leans into Roman’s solid, protective frame.

“Wow….” He finally speaks, volume barely above a whisper. “You….you look so much like her.”

Solana says nothing. What once would be considered a compliment is now a thing that only further confuses her muddled emotions. 

He moves to take a step forward, but Roman is already on it. “That’s fucking close enough.”

It’s appreciated, the parameters being set for her as Solana continues to go back and forth with herself regarding if this was a good idea or not. 

The answer changes from moment to moment. 

Disappointment flashes in his face, but he says nothing, simply nodding as he retakes his seat. 

It’s only then Solana speaks again, not to her biological father, but to her husband. Turning around, having to remind herself to be mindful of her interactions with him, she simply states, “I’m okay.”

Roman’s fierce gaze switches from Darnell to herself. An unspoken ‘are you sure?’. She nods, smile small but voice firm. “I’ll be okay.”

Bloodline security surrounds the place. Bautista is right outside the door. Darnell would have to be an idiot to try anything. 

Especially with Roman present. 

Roman’s disagreement is noticeable, Solana opting to place her hand on his chest, quietly repeating, “I’ll be okay.”

And it’s on this final reiteration that it locks and settles in for him. Roman gives her a small nod of acknowledgement, then turns his icy stare on Darnell, an unspoken threat and promise of violence should he try anything.

“I’ll be outside,” Roman informs. She offers him a final, small smile before he disappears, leaving her alone with Darnell. 

Solana takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair opposite him. She doesn’t say anything, and neither does he. Not for a good five minutes at least. 

“How?” It’s a practical whisper followed up with a firmer, “how did you find out?”

Solana looks away, partially unsure why eye contact is so difficult. “I found…I found a letter she wrote me explaining….explaining things.” She’s tempted to say everything but ultimately decides against it, as everything has not been explained, hence why she’s sitting across from the man in front of her.

He nods, eyes searching and studying her. “What—what exactly did she tell you?”

A lot. So much. More than one person should have to process and deal with at any given time. 

Still, Solana does her best to answer his questions, despite the fact that she only asked for this meeting so she could ask her questions. “How….how she met…..Xavier. How…how she met you…..the….the plan—”

“To leave, right?” All she can do is nod, finally looking over at him to see the devastation painted all over his face. “I never—I never found out…how….how he learned of the plan—”

One of her questions suddenly answered without her even asking. It’s not, however, the answer she was looking for. Granted, it’s obvious someone betrayed them. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that much.

“I have to admit. This….this isn’t how I imagined this conversation going.” A quiet admission filled with undeniable sadness and regret.

Curious, Solana inquires, “how—how did you think it would go?”

He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

Silence

"I've waited....waited so long to meet you, to meet my daughter—"

"Please—please don't call me that." A whispered request, one that makes his countenance dim but something needs. It's bad enough she already feels unwell about this whole thing but him referring to her as that, even if true, it just....it feels too soon.

Continued silence until he speaks again, shattering it.

“Solana…..” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I—” He stops, pulling out his phone, clicking around, turning it so she can see. One look at the screen, and Solana knows right away what she’s looking at. 

Who she’s looking at.

The resemblance is strong and striking. The same smile. Same brown eyes they clearly inherited from her mother. Similar complexions.

This is her brother. 

“This….this is Shawn,” she lifts her gaze from the phone to Darnell who wears a small smile. “This is your brother.” Her eyes shut, as he continues to explain what she most definitely has not asked about. “He’s in his second year of residency. Working to become a pediatrician. He just got engaged—”

And because she can’t take it, can’t hold it in any longer, Solana asks. Has to ask. “Where were you?”

If she was looking at him, she’d see the quick and unmistakable way his smile shifts back into a frown. “What?”

From some place, a place unknown, Solana starts to find her voice. Starts to tap into the reasons and emotions that drove her to schedule this meeting in the first place. “You—you knew about me, right?”

There’s an undeniable sadness in his eyes. “From the moment your mother told me about the pregnancy.”

For some reason, that doesn’t help her to feel any better. To settle the influx of emotions rising within her. “And you—you knew that—that the plan failed, that….that she was killed.”

His eyes shut, and he looks away. A quiet, pained, “yes.”

“But that….that I survived, that….that I was still with him, in that—in that house.” Emotion betrays her, stirring and rising, resulting in choppy sentences that somehow manage to alert the man across from her just where she’s going with this. 

“Solana—”

“So where were you all these years?” A devastating question that needs, deserves, an answer. “Where have you been?” Betrayal paints her face as she issues her next icy question. “Or were you too busy being a dad to the child you wanted?”

There's a good, solid minute of absolute silence as Darnell clearly works to choose the right words.

“Solana, I always wanted you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in all these years that I haven’t thought about you, thought about trying to get you, but…..sweetheart.” Solana's nails scrape against the table. Something about that nickname doesn't settle right with her. “There was no way for me to try to take you from him that didn’t put you in danger. If he found out who I was, about me, he’d have no doubt either killed me or you. And then what?” A rhetorical question as he shakes his head. “I couldn’t save you without risking—”

“So you just left me there with that monster—”

“I didn’t have a choice, Solana—” His voice is desperate, eyes pleading. “I—I always hoped he would marry you off to someone, and then maybe I could reach out, and he did, but it was to that other monster Roman—”

And that is when Solana's anger reaches a dangerous level.

Her voice is unwavering and borderline threatening. “Don’t you dare talk about my husband.” She points to the door. “He is the first and only man in my life to not hurt me. To protect me. He protects me the way you should have—”

“Solana—”

“But, you didn’t. You left me to the real monster, and then you want to show up after all these years, showing me pictures of the sibling that I never knew I had, the sibling who I’m sure you gave a good life to, meanwhile, I spent over twenty years in hell—”

“Sol—”

“Do you know how bad it was for me?” Her throat is heavy and chest feels weighed down. “The things—the things they did to me—” Solana's voice breaks. “The things he let people do to me—”

“Sweetheart...." To be fair, Darnell looks sympathetic, but his explanations somehow contrasts that. Seems invalidating. Justifying. "I couldn’t risk losing you, too." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "If I tried to take you from him, he would have killed y—"

“Being dead would have been better than being in that house!” It’s a dark, heavy thing to say, but it’s how she feels. Or, maybe it’s how she feels in this moment. To be fair, she’s feeling a lot of things. A lot of confusing, conflicting, overwhelming things. It’s too much. 

This is all too much.

She thought she was ready. She wanted to be ready, but it’s evident by the way her face is warming up and her chest is tightening that she was wrong.

“I can’t do this,” she finally announces. Solana looks over at Darnell whose shoulders drop at her exclamation. “I—I can’t do this right now.”

Solana moves to stand up, but so does he. He also reaches across the table, his hand just centimeters away from touching her. “Solana, please—”

“I—I can try on a different date, but—but—this—it’s too—it’s too much.” She shakes her head, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath. It’s only then she recognizes where this is headed. She’s on the path to a panic attack, and for so many reasons, primarily the two lives growing inside of her, she has to get the hell out of dodge. 

Darnell circles around the table and finally makes contact, grabbing her forearm. Solana is taken back by the fact that she doesn’t panic or jump at the action, that him touching her doesn’t elicit another layer of anxiety.

Still, she requests, “let me go.”

His voice is dripping with desperation. “Ten minutes. I’m just asking for ten—”

“—let me go.”

“—please. I’ve waited for so long—”

“Let me go.”

“—if you—”

“Roman!” 

It practically defies logic and the science of how time works, because one minute she’s shouting for her husband, a natural thing that comes to her in the space of this fear, and the next, he’s back in the room, roughly barking at her father to get away from her. Solana reaches for Roman, grabbing his arm, redirecting his attention back to her instead of Darnell who’d stepped back, hands up in a defensive manner. 

“I just wanna leave,” she whispers, Roman moving his hands to her face, clearly assessing for any sign of injury. “P–please.”

Roman nods, ushering her out of the restaurant, but not before he issues a cold, steel warning to Darnell. 

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

Solana doesn’t know if she agrees with that. If she wants, overall, for Darnell to leave her alone. There’s still so much for them to discuss, but as of right now, mentally, it’s not something she’s ready for. Not something she can handle. So, for now, distance is the best thing.

Only time will tell if that changes. 

—-------

Solana is dangerously close to calling off the whole thing. From backing away from the plan to inform the rest of Bayley/her family of the kinship. The meeting with Darnell messing with her so much that Roman has to stay with her for the rest of the afternoon given her spiked anxiety. He’d asked if she needed him to call Gayle for an appointment, but she turned it down, leaning on her coping skills learned in therapy as well as his support.

She’s not entirely sure what she expected to hear or how the meeting would go, but her reaction and how deeply it impacted her definitely took her by surprise. And, if she’s being completely honest with herself, anxiety isn’t the only emotion that came out of that meeting.

Jealousy.

Jealousy is something she also left with, jealousy that a sibling, her twin, of all people got to live a normal life. Probably got to do all of the normal things that kids should be able to do. Darnell probably taught him how to ride a bike.

Xavier once pitched hers into the street and rolled it over in front of her because she didn’t clean the house “good enough.”

He probably got to have playdates with friends.

Solana went to maybe one or two, each one ending with Xaxier screaming at and beating her mom for allowing her to do so.

He probably went to homecoming and prom.

Solana spent both of those in the ER from injuries sustained from Xavier and Wes’s beatings.

He’s a doctor.

Solana is just going for her bachelors at 29.

There’s just so much unfairness. Her twin lived the best life while she was stuck in the depths of hell.

And no, it’s not his fault, because he was a child just like her. But, that doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s jealous that this sibling received the life she deserved and angry at her father for not saving her and giving her that same kind of life. 

“Hey.” Bayley’s kind voice and soft voice pull Solana from her inordinate thoughts. “You still thinking about that meeting?”

Solana nods. Hard not to. “It just….it wasn’t what I hoped it would be.”

Bayley presses her lips together before offering. “I get that, and I hate that for you, too, but just because that didn’t go well, doesn’t mean that this won’t.” She places down the brush she was using to set Solana’s face with powder. “Solana…” Bayley joins their hands, eye contact unwavering. “You are family. They’re not going to be upset or deny you or turn you away. They’ll have questions, maybe, sure. But, it’s not going to be this massive, hurtful thing. If I had any feeling it would be anything but accepting, I would be trying my damn hardest to talk you out of this. But, I don’t, so I’m not.” Bayley lifts one hand to touch up an unruly strand that’s shifted from the bangs she cut for her cousin not even an hour earlier. "Everything's going to be okay.”

The words are helpful. Immensely. And so greatly appreciated. More than Bayley could ever know. Especially following the day Solana has had.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Solana also manages a smile. “It—it means a lot to me.”

Bayley makes a sound. “Don’t mention it, prima.” Bayley grabs the brush once more, dusting it over Solana’s nose before assessing her work. “I must say, while the canvas is breathtaking, I do some damn good work.” She steps to the side allowing Solana a final view of the finished product. “What do you think?”

Solana thinks and feels a lot of things looking at her reflection.

Different.

It looks and feels like a different person. The bangs framing her forehead, brushing the top of her eyebrows and somehow highlighting the beautiful gold eye look Bayley did for her. Bayley’s magic continues and spreads from the highlight atop her cheek, the red lipstick on her full lips, even to the red, floral dress Solana is wearing. Initially something she thought a bit too revealing but something her cousin talked her into.

The emotion is undeniable as she finds herself almost unable to look away from herself. “I love it.” She turns to Bayley, standing up from the chair and pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll invoice that rich ass husband of yours.” Bayley’s comments makes Solana laugh and helps her to push back the tears. She can’t ruin this stunning face. “Speaking of….”

The two break apart, and Solana sets her gaze on her husband who’s just walked in. 

Naturally, she studies the way his eyes widen slightly when he sees her. “Damn…”

Giggling, Solana walks over to him and moves her hands to his chest, asking almost nervously, “do you like it?”

She hadn’t told him about the plan to modify her dyed hair yet again by cutting bangs, wanting to surprise him. He just thought she was going to Bayley’s salon for the two to get ready together. And while that definitely happened, this happened as well.

“I love it,” he finally answers, his eyes sweeping her over. “You look beautiful, Sol.” It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it never gets old. Never fails to make her heart swell and stomach flutter. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and turns her head when he goes to kiss her, reminding with a giggle, “don’t mess up my makeup!” 

He makes a sound and kisses her neck, murmuring, “I’d mess up a hell of a lot more if I could.” His big hand snakes down to grab her ass, prompting her to lightly push on his chest. 

“Behave,” she scolds, unable to deny there’s a part of her that feels the same. Pelvic rest is absolutely necessary, at least for another week or two, but the lack of that type of intimacy between them, the inability to have it has been….something, to say the least. 

Needing a distraction, she turns to Bayley while speaking to Roman. “She did an amazing job, didn’t she?”

However, it’s only then Solana sees the way Bayley rolls her eyes, not at her statement, but at Roman who is also now looking with utter boredom. 

Shoulders dropping, Solana realizes it’s time to address this issue. 

“Guys.” She pulls away from Roman, crossing her arms over her body. “This has to stop.” She looks between them. “I love you both, and I know—I know what happened was hard, and I’ll never stop being sorry for putting you two in that position, but—” She looks at Roman, “Bayley is my cousin,” she then switches her gaze to Bayley, “Roman is my husband.” She shakes her head, asserting, “neither of those facts are going to change. Ever. So, I want, I need you two to drop this. I need us all to be family.” Realizing that may be too much, at least for now, she compromises, “at least be cordial.” An assessing gaze between the two of them reveals some crumbling of steel resolve, prompting her to pull out that card. “For me?”

That does it, both Bayley and Roman looking away, revealing her final play’s success. “Fine.” Bayley is the first to speak. “I’ll try to be nicer to him.”

Roman looks like he’s almost in physical pain as he forces out a steel, “same.” 

Bayley scoffs. “Like you know how to be nice to anyone other than Sol—”

“Don’t fucking push it—”

“Guys,” Solana cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please.”

Muttered, reluctant ‘sorry' from both of them as she shakes her head. There’s still a ways to go, but it’s a start. 

One issue tackled. Sort of.

Another major one left to go.

—------

Sitting in front of them shouldn’t be so intimidating. Shouldn’t have her tapping her foot on the floor, her attention briefly diverting to thoughts of Roman. To wondering if she should have had him stay instead of standing outside. Solana does her best to remind herself of why she initially told him that. She can do this and is capable, and she doesn’t need her husband right beside her to feel his support.

Especially when she’s got Bayley right next her.

“Thank you for—for meeting with me.” The second meeting of the day, this one, hopefully, going much better than the one from earlier. “I—I don’t know how much Bayley told you.”

Juanita offers a small smile. “Just that you needed to speak with us about something….in private.” She gestures around the vacant restaurant, the only other bodies present are the ones back in the kitchen, preparing for the night’s event.

Santos says nothing, his gaze watchful and studying. Bayley’s recommendation for him to be included and invited to this “reveal” was something she was unsure about, Roman definitely against, but something she eventually agreed to given Bayley’s valid points. He’s technically Solana’s cousin too, Melina’s partner and the father of their child, not to mention the tension that exists between him and Roman. With all the connections they share, prior to even officially meeting, it makes sense to start easing into that transition now. 

And truth be told, from the moment Santos walked into the restaurant and shook her hand and just from the little she’s seen, Solana can see why he and Roman don’t get along. It’s probably the same reason Roman is indifferent, borderline hostile to his brother. 

They’re too much alike. 

Santos exudes a strong, commanding, almost mysterious presence similar to her husband. But, there’s that almost charismatic element to him that reminds her of Matteo. 

She can only hope the three of them being under the same roof tonight won’t bring about anything bad. 

Returning to the conversation at hand, at Juanita’s statement, Solana nods and nervously clears her throat. “I’m sorry if it was any inconvenience—”

“Not at all,” Bernardo dismisses with a wave of his hand. “We are curious what this is about though.”

A fair statement. One Solana knows only she can handle.

She takes a deep breath. “I—I love to write. I—I always have. It’s—it’s something I inherited from my mother. We used to—we used to write to each other all the time.” Solana prepares to take another deep breath when Bayley places a comforting hand on her knee. Solana offers a small, appreciative smile. 

It’s the subtle, non-verbal reminder she needs. 

She nods to herself. “It’s—it’s a long story, but I was….I was sorting through her journals and putting them away in my library at my home, and I—I came across a letter she wrote me before—” Emotion catches her, Solana’s voice wavering slightly. “Before she was killed.”

Her fingers taps against the exposed skin on her thigh, as if going to reach for the letter. A letter she opted to not share in its entirety. Just the portions that confirm her mother’s true identity. 

Solana then moves to grab the papers out of her purse, handing them over. In a low voice, she directs, “you—you can read for yourselves.” 

All three wear confused expressions, but Bernardo is the one to accept the two pages, Santos and Juanita nearing closer to also gain visual access. 

Meanwhile, Solana goes to pick at the material of her dress when Bayley shifts her hand, placing it over hers. Another nod of support, her warm brown eyes converting every bit of, “it’s going to be okay.”

Solana squeezes her hand, telling herself the same thing. 

It’s going to be okay. 

A minute or two passes before the first sound of response. 

“Mio Dios…..” It’s Bernardo, and he has a closed fist covering his mouth as his wide, emotional eyes lift to Solana. “You’re Alma’s daughter?”

Juanita gasps, eyes watering. “She had a child?”

Santos looks between her and the letter, as if trying to make the connection. “How? Is it—is it just you? Are there any other children she had?”

It’s difficult to breathe, let alone respond, but Solana finds it in her to do so. “I—I apparently have a twin brother—” More gasps of shock, as she explains, “I don’t—I didn’t know until the letter. There’s a lot more in there, and it’s all so confusing, and I know it’s a lot just what you read, so if you need time—”

“No.” Again, Bernardo is the one to speak, his tone firmer. “For years, we’ve wondered what happened to my niece. Ricardo—he died of a broken heart after losing your mother, he died not knowing what happened to his only daughter. We’ve all lived with that grief, and now here you are, have been here all this time….” He stops, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry we didn’t—we couldn’t do anything to help her. To help you.”

It’s an unexpected ending that has her eyes watering. Solana replies with just as much emotion. “You—you didn’t know.”

“But, we know now,” Juanita says, wiping at her eyes. “And now that we have you, that we know who you really are….” She stops, laughing a little, “well, I can’t even call you newfound family, cause you’ve already become that for us.” Solana sniffles, not even realizing she herself has started crying. Juanita's eyes widen as she looks over at her husband. “Paloma—”

He closes his eyes, going to speak again. “Your grandfather, my brother, is no longer with us, but his widow is. Paloma—”

“I know,” Solana interrupts in a quiet voice, unsurprised at their shocked expressions. “My–my husband took me to Isla Mujeres for my birthday a couple months ago, and I—I actually met her.” Her voice breaks again, Solana blotting at her eyes as Bayley hugs her from the side. “I—I haven’t told her because—because I’m scared, and I—I didn’t know if you guys would accept me or believe me.”

“Accept you?” Bernardo echoes. Solana watches as he stands up from his chair and walks over, extending a hand. Unconsciously, she stands up, Bayley releasing her, as Solana accepts it. He gives a small squeeze. “Solana, you are family. My great niece. Mi familia.” 

What happens next is unexpected, and months prior, could have easily sent Solana spiraling and triggered the absolute hell out of her.

Bernardo pulls her into a hug, holds her, his hand cradling the back of her head. And Solana doesn’t panic, doesn’t freeze, doesn’t feel triggered. She feels safe. The comforting, almost parental, fatherly embrace is all so unfamiliar but nice.

It’s such an interesting dichotomy. With Darnell, Solana found explanations. With Bernardo and company, she’s finding empathy. Sympathy. And it’s not really until this moment that she’s realizing maybe she wasn’t looking for answers from her biological father as much as she was looking for comfort. For validation. 

For this.

Pulling away, she wipes at her eyes, laughing when Juanita pulls her into a hug that’s even tighter. 

Motherly.

Releasing her, Juanita blots at Solana’s eyes as Santos crosses his arms, taking in the sight.

“So, the great Solana Reigns all my family kept raving about is actually also family,” he says with a small chuckle. Solana turns to him, lips pressed together, listening and watching closely. “Well, welcome to the Escobar family.” His eyes narrow just a bit. “You know what this also means, right?”

“No.” Solana gasps, turning around to see her husband whose intense gaze is on Santos, Bayley standing not too far behind him with her arms crossed. She'd clearly went to get him, to invite him back inside. “Tell me.”

Naturally, Solana walks over to Roman, holding onto his arm, his gaze never once leaving Santos. 

Bayley's cousin, err, Solana’s cousin, however, doesn’t even bother to look Roman’s way. “You’re an Escobar. That means you're under the protection of the Legado Del Fantasma. The Cartel as well.”

Solana frowns. She’s heard through Bayley and even brief mentions from Jimmy and Jey about the Legado Del Fantasma, but the Cartel? That’s…..news to her, to say the least. But juxtaposed to her confusion is Roman’s anger. 

Solana has to subtly tighten her grip on his arm as he moves forward, growling, “Solana is Bloodline.”

“She’s Bloodline by marriage,” Santos corrects, swiftly. “She’s Del Fantasma by blood.” 

Bayley steps forward, breaking her silence and also the pending standoff. “So basically, Solana has protection on both sides. Through family and marriage." 

It’s such a strange thing. To go from being unprotected and subjected to all kinds of horrors for years into this space where the protection is abundant. Being told she is under the protection of two of the most feared crime syndicates in this hemisphere, maybe the world, is….something, to say the least. 

“She doesn’t need your protection,” Roman cuts in, his voice steel, Solana wishing she could do more to comfort and calm him right now. “I don’t need anyone’s help to keep my wife safe.” 

Thankfully, the role of peacemaker is taken up by her tía.

Juanita speaks up. “Let us not do this right now. This is a happy occasion. I won’t have it ruined by ego and pride.” She looks between Roman and Santos. “We will have a nice, celebratory night.”

It’s the ‘celebratory’ that reminds Solana of her stipulation, if you will. “I—I’d prefer this…this stay between us.” She motions around the room, adding, “until I—I can tell Paloma.”

Bernardo nods, agreeing. “It shall remain between us, sobrina nieta.”

The term. Great niece. It warms Solana’s soul, returns the smile on her face.

Familia. 

Family.

—--------

Roman feels out of place.

Truth be told, he’s always felt a bit out of place. But, especially in this setting, because as guests arrive and as Solana socializes and speaks with what she now knows to be her family, he just sits at the table, watching and surveying. A normal thing for him, especially considering none of these people are his friends and family. 

Except then Jimmy and Naomi arrive, Naomi invited by Bayley and Jimmy naturally tagging along. And that initial exchange is awkward, but Jimmy reminds Roman that while he has his moments, he knows when to leave shit at the door.

“I know a lot is going on, but tonight ain’t about that.” Was Jimmy’s “surrender” statement of the evening. 

Before he went to go see what food he was ordering. 

Some things never change.

Regardless, Roman feels a bit better seeing Dwayne, is slightly surprised to see Ava, who’d he previously spoken to and settled his issues with regarding her interference. But, it’s when Matteo arrives with his wife and children that it really hits Roman.

Two boys and a little girl. His biological niece and nephews. And Roman hasn’t a single fucking clue how to feel about that, doesn’t know what to feel seeing the way Matteo is attentive to both his wife and kids while still maintaining that dangerous aura about him.

He smiles and even laughs with his little girl, slaps his wife’s ass, and high fives his sons all while never coming across as weak.

He balances it all so well from the outside looking in, something Roman feels at a complete loss to.

Especially as he watches his wife. Solana, kind and loving, is all smiles and laugh. Matteo’s children seem to naturally gravitate to her, same with the other children in attendance. Like Melina and Santos son. Another business man who manages to tend to his family while maintaining his reputation. 

Meanwhile, Roman can’t even think about fatherhood without feeling all fucking weird.

It’s miserable.

And, it’s not even just them, even fucking Jimmy is going around the restaurant calling people “cousin this” and “tia that.” People he met less than an hour ago. Is singing some Selena song on karaoke with Bayely and Solana even though he doesn't know a lick of Spanish and sounds like Lucille fucking Ball.

Still, he just blends. 

They all do.

Jimmy.

Matteo.

Dwayne and Ava even, striking up conversations with people.

And Roman is just…..there.

And that’s when the overthinking hits him. Is this how it’s going to be for him as a father? This emotionally unavailable person who can’t even connect with people on a basic level. Who has to rely and depend on his wife to fulfill his kids; emotional needs, cause Lord knows he can’t.

Solana even tries to get him to dance with her, comes to sit on his lap and talk with him for a few minutes. And he declines in the subtle way he must use to avoid giving off any indication of what she means to him. And she understands, he knows she does, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 

Especially when he sees Matteo dancing with his wife, sees Solana playfully interacting and dancing with his biological niece. People she just fucking met and is already almost bonded with. 

Something Roman is starting to think he can never have or achieve.

Even with his own children. 

Stepping away is a bit of necessity. He needs to not be surrounded by it all, by the taunts and reminders. 

Reminders of what he can never have. 

Roman stands outside, in the back patio portion of the restaurant, leaning against the brick wall, thoughts all over the damn place. 

“I know your ass is getting old, and I’m just over the hill, but even I know all the fun is happening inside.”

Dwayne’s voice, playful and teasing, pulls Roman from his thoughts as he looks over at his cousin who sports a beer in one hand. 

Roman chuckles, looking off over the terrace. “You know this isn’t my setting.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Dwayne assesses, knowingly. He steps closer, asking, “why?”

An easy answer. “You really think I was about to let her be here by herself? Around Escobar?” 

That’s another thing sitting on and weighing on him. He’s happy Solana has discovered her family. She deserves that. He’s just unsure how he feels about Solana suddenly belonging to and, rightfully, having protection from an organization he can’t control.

He’d heard whispers that Legado Del Fantasma was rooted in the Cartel, that there were connections there, some even being through Santos father. But, the Cartel has always been notorious about keeping identities for certain factions and members a secret. Helps them keep an advantage. 

Similar to the Bloodline. 

But, hearing it confirmed is something different, and Roman is now wishing he’d have not pushed off those meetings with Cartel representatives to see about forming an alliance or something of the sort.

It sure as hell would be helpful right about now. 

Dwayne makes a face. “According to Jimmy, that’s her family though.”

At that, Roman’s gaze hardens. “What?” 

Dwayne chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “Don’t worry. He told me not to tell anyone.”

“I’m trying to figure out how the fuck he kn—” Roman stops himself, pinching his nose. It’s always something. “Yes, turns out Solana and Bayley are—”

“Cousins, right?”

Ava’s voice cuts in at the same moment Roman’s blood pressure skyrockets. 

“How the fuck do you know?” He asks, already knowing the damn answer. 

Ava shrugs, also with a beer in hand. “Jimmy.” Roman looks away, absolutely needing to count to ten to keep from killing his damn cousin. “But, don’t worry, he told me—”

“Not to tell anyone. Yeah, I know.” Roman runs his hand over his face, needing to count to ten, something Lita had brought up to help when his anger starts to rise. It sounded stupid as hell at the time but may be necessary at this moment.

 This is why he fucking hates people. 

Ava rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m only out here cause Solana asked me to check on you.”

Dwayne makes a sound. “She asked me, too.”

Hearing that somehow calms Roman a bit, reminds him of why he needs to get his shit together. For Solana. Tonight is supposed to be about and for her. She doesn’t need to be worrying about him, especially in her condition. 

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Ava and Dwayne say in sync. Roman rolls his eyes. The two of them at one time is a kind of stressor he doesn’t need right now. He appreciates them both, but he’ll always appreciate solitude more. 

Especially when he needs to think.

Especially….especially when he doesn't have Fetu to talk to any more. 

“Just thinking about shit,” is the answer Roman settles on. It’s not very telling. At all. But, it’s an answer nonetheless. 

“Well, can’t say we didn’t try.” Ava shrugs, sipping more of her beer as she lowers her voice. “Hey, what’s the update on the…..ya know?”

No. Roman doesn’t know, and he asks as such. “What?”

Ava sucks her teeth and punches him on the arm. “Don’t be a dumbass. You know what I’m talking about.” His face must indicate his continued confusion as she murmurs something in Samoan. “For Solana?”

At the same time, both Dwayne and Roman are clued in.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Dwayne says first, rolling his shoulders. “You still gotta let me know the dress code.”

“Anything but white. Duh.” Ava suddenly second guesses herself, looking over at Roman for approval. “Right?”

Roman’s answer is multifaceted. “I don’t know.” And before his annoying ass cousins can get on his ass, he clarifies. “I don’t—I don’t know if I’m still doing it.”

Both wear shocked expressions, but Dwayne is the first to comment. “The fuck you mean you’re not doing it? You have to, brother.”

Ava’s expression softens. “Roman, you know….you know it’s what Fetu would want.”

Roman looks away, knowing. Knowing that Ava is right. Fetu was so excited to attend, to be a part of it, and while her absence will kill him, he also knows his aunt would probably take a break from terrorizing people in the afterlife to haunt him if he doesn't go through with it. 

“I will. I just….I think I have to change the timeline.” 

“Change the timeline?” She shakes her head, protesting. “No. Roman, the dates you chose are literally perfect. What’s better than Christmas and Valentine's Day?”

Dwayne gestures to Ava with his thumb. “She’s right. Women love that romantic shit.”

Roman closes his eyes, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he mulls over what he’s about to say, if he should. He knows what Solana said, but something tells him she wouldn’t care in this moment. That she’d be okay with it.

Which is why he goes on and says it. 

“Solana’s pregnant.” 

A loud gasp from Ava and dropped mouth from Dwayne. “Oh my God, seriously?” Ava asks in a voice of almost awe. “Holy shit, Roman, congratulations.”

A strange sense of pride fills him at the response, a stark contrast to the confused, conflicting feelings he has towards everything else regarding this pregnancy. 

“It’s about goddamn time,” Dwayne claps him on the shoulder, pointing out, “was starting to worry you were going to fuck up our family’s reputation for being fertile as fuck.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “This coming from the man who swore off kids.”

Dwayne shrugs. “Ehh. My offspring are better served swallowed.”

Roman cracks a small smile as Ava looks utterly disgusted.

“I fucking hate men,” she spits, glare switching to something inquisitive. “How far along is she?”

“Two months,” Roman answers. Solana is closer to three months than anything, but that specific of an answer seems unnecessary. “But, I don’t—I don’t know if she’ll want to do that while pregnant.”

Ava seems to be doing the math Roman himself did when coming to his decision. “I mean, if she’s two months now, she’ll be due in May, and if you do it in February, that’ll put her at like, what, six months?” Ava shrugs. “She’ll definitely be showing, but—”

“It’s—” Roman cuts in, unsure why his voice is low, weighed down with something indistinguishable. “Twins. She’s—she’s having twins.”

Ava’s eyes double in size. “Oh shit, okay.”

Dwayne makes a low whistle sound. “Two at the same fucking time? Your ass is about to be knee deep in baby shit and piss.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ava dismisses, voice switching to something more serious again. “I can get why you’re thinking of putting it off, but honestly….I think you should still stick with the original plan and timeline. Pregnant or not, Solana is gonna love it, regardless.”

He says nothing, trying to push away the negative, doubtful thoughts. When the idea first came to him, while he was trying to figure out what to do for her birthday, he was certain of it. Certain that it would definitely be something she’d appreciate. And as he worked out the specifics, bouncing ideas off Fetu, even Ava, navigating the logistics with Dwayne, it all seemed to be coming together almost perfectly.

And then things started to fall apart and unravel, and while they’ve been working hard to put everything back together. There’s still work to be done, and progress to be made. 

A pregnancy.

That’s really the biggest thing that’s had Roman second-guessing himself. If Solana would still be as happy and appreciative if he were to do this while she’s with child, and there’s always going to be some doubt, but Ava’s words help to settle some of the indecision. 

A lot of it, actually.

“I’ll think about it,” is the answer he settles on. “You already know this shit—”

“Stays between us,” Dwayne finishes. “Well aware.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, something similar to concern. “Are you sure you’re al—”

“Hey.”

The cousins are interrupted by another voice, another person. Matteo. 

And he looks irritated.

“You might want to get in here.”

There’s something about Matteo’s expression and the almost concern in his voice that makes Roman the first to head that way, his cousins shortly behind him. 

His stride is purposeful, the Tribal Chief heading back into the restaurant where he immediately sees and knows why Matteo called for his attention.

“Son of a bitch…..”

Roman is focused solely on his wife, on the way she's almost sandwiched between Naomi, Afia, Bayley, and now Ava, all of the women watching closely as Jimmy stands in front of Jey, arms up as if trying to block him from entering farther into the restaurant. 

And it’s as Roman gets closer, he can see why Jimmy is trying to restrict his twin. 

The smell of liquor radiates off Jey’s frame. Once in the vicinity, Roman doesn’t have time to acknowledge his wife who he can feel looking at him. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Jey?” Roman’s question is calmly and coldly delivered, his fist at his side clenching and unclenching because what the fuck?

Jey’s glazed eyes fall on him as he makes a sound. “Ah,h shit, there he is, Mr. Tribal Chief himself.”

Jimmy glances at Roman. “I got this, Roman.”

“Obviously, you don’t,” Roman snaps, refocusing on Jey. “You need to leave.”

Now. Immediately. He shouldn’t even be there in the first damn place.

Jey makes a sound and snatches his arm away from Jimmy. “Man, I ain’t going nowhere. This some b–bullshit. Ya’ll tryna—tryna ice me out and shit!”

“Jey.” Roman turns to see Solana has stepped forward, Afia and Bayley both watching Roman's drunk ass cousin the whole time, as if wanting to see if he’s going to do anything. Protectively, almost. Naomi, however, just looks so frustrated with it all. Understandably so. “That’s not—”

“Oh look!” Jey’s volume increases. “It’s—it’s the queen herself! The one who—who started all this shit!” He smiles and laughs, Roman rolling his neck, sensing Matteo and Dwayne who now stand closely behind him. Also protectively. “Shit, Soso, I used to think—to think me and you was—was cool.”

“That’s enough, man,” Jimmy’s stern voice is conjoined with him once again trying to guide his brother out the restaurant. “This ain’t the time or place.”

“It certainly isn’t.” Santos joins in, Roman not missing the men that move behind him, clearly ready and waiting. He looks over at Roman, nodding, “get him out of here, or we will.”

It’s a threat. Obviously. Clearly. And Roman can’t even be upset with it. Jey coming on neutral territory trying to start some shit is unacceptable. 

Embarrassing

“I ain’t going n–nowhere—”

“The hell you aren’t.” Roman turns to see Dwayne walking past him, bypassing Jimmy as he aggressively grabs Jey by the collar of his shirt. “You’re fucking embarrassing yourself, Jey.”

Jey’s inebriation is even more evident as he goes to take a poorly aimed swing at Dwayne who easily dodges as such, instead taking the opportunity to spin Jey around and start pushing him out. “Let’s go,” he barks, Jimmy moving behind him, trying to talk some sense into his hotheaded twin.

“Man! Fuck ya’ll! I got something for all ya’ll asses!”

It’s that last sentence that makes Roman’s jaw clench. Whatever leash Jey had on his temper all these years has clearly been dropped. Roman hasn’t seen his cousin this reckless since they were in their twenties. 

But, as soon as Santos steps forward, inches away from Roman, Matteo moving to stand directly beside his brother, Roman already knows what’s about to be said. “Anything fucking happens on this territory—”

“I’ll handle it,” Roman asserts. He’s pissed, livid, and not even at the man before him. Santos is doing what anyone in that position would do. Reminding a potential enemy what potential consequences await should anyone be stupid enough to try anything.

Someone stupid like Jey.

Santos simply nods, saying something in Spanish causing his men to disperse. 

“Jey’s becoming a problem.” Matteo speaks in Italian, clearly wanting the umbrella of privacy. Roman turns to look at him. “This can’t continue.”

Roman hates being told what he already knows, but there’s something in this that makes him simply agree. “I know.”

“Roman.” He looks down to see Solana now on the other side of him, realizes she’s holding onto his arm, looking up with eyes that give away what she wants before even saying anything. “Let’s go. home”

And just like that, the anger slips into guilt. Guilt that what was supposed to be a nice night for her has turned into this shitshow. Looking around, he sees the crowd has dispersed, Naomi nowhere to be seen as Bayley and Afia talk amongst themselves. The band resumes the music, and it appears as if they’re trying to resume like nothing happened. But, something did happen, and it’s ruined whatever enjoyment Solana was having.

Fuck.

“Solana—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupts, voice low and almost subtle. God, he fucking hates this. “Let’s—let’s just go….please.”

It’s that last word that pulls him over. “Alright.”

She gives a small nod of appreciation and turns to walk away, clearly to tell everyone goodbye, starting with Bayley and Afia and the latter’s kids who have come hovering near their mother.

“So….” Matteo speaks again, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you going to handle this?”

Roman just looks at him and says nothing. 

He says nothing because he has no idea. 

He has no idea how he’s going to handle this. 

—----------

The drive home is mostly silent, not much conversation transpiring between husband and wife. Once in the safety of their humble abode, Solana works to get Dulce settled as Roman heads straight to the shower, eventually finding himself sitting outside, wanting, almost needing the distraction of the beautiful night sky.

But, it’s after Solana has also showered, she finds and joins him on the balcony of their master bedroom. Wordlessly, she climbs onto his lap, hands to his face, her eyes and voice pleading. “Talk to me.”

Roman closes his eyes, saying nothing, prompting her to clarify, “and don’t try to say it was the Jey situation. You….you were off before that even happened.”

“It didn’t help,” he mutters. An honest thing. Roman needs to figure something out, because Jey’s behavior tonight was unacceptable. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing to him, but more importantly, embarrassing to the Bloodline.

And as the Tribal Chief, Roman can’t have that. Thus, he needs to find a way to resolve this shitshow. And fast. 

He opens his eyes, looking directly at her. “Solana—”

“Roman.” Her voice is firmer, her gaze never leaving him. “The truth.”

It’s difficult to lie to her. Always has been. It was just what he felt he needed to do at certain points, but in this moment, in a stark contrast to prior ones, he almost doesn’t want to. He wants to get this off his chest. 

So, he does.

With a heavy sigh, Roman does his best to explain all of the many things he’s been feeling the past few weeks. “Solana, I don’t—I don’t know how to do it.”

She frowns, her thumb brushing over the apple of his bearded cheek. “Do what, baby?”

His jaw tightens. “Be a father.”

Roman sees it. Sees the way her shoulders drop, sees the sadness in her eyes. “Ro….”

“I watched you tonight. I watched how you…..you connected with everyone. Connected with the kids. It’s—natural for you.” Roman closes his eyes, the words continuing to roll out almost autonomously from this place of rare vulnerability. “You’re a good person, Solana. You—you have a heart. A big heart. You were made to be a parent. A mother. I don’t—I don’t think I was made to be—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, her voice a perfect mixture of emotion and conviction. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that, Ro.” Her eyes are watering as she gives him an emotional smile. “Roman, you have a heart, too. A big heart. You just….you’re not allowed to show it as much as I do, not in public at least, because of who you are. But, I see it all the time, I feel it all the time when we’re together.” She shakes her head, moving her hand to push back some of his hair. “I always feel so loved with and by you, and that’s exactly what our girls are going to feel.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“What kind of father are you in your dreams?”

A valid, fair question that takes him back. Roman starts to protest, starts to push back on her, but there’s a fiery determination in her gaze that tells him doing so won’t do anything but make her push back on him even more.

He thinks about it, finally answering, almost reluctantly. “Fine.”

“Bullshit.” Another taken back expression. It feels almost wrong to hear his sweet, innocent wife curse, but she does so without hesitation. “They adore you, don’t they?” He says nothing, sensing she’s not done. “Always want to be around you, and Lina wants to be just like you, huh?”

Right away, he’s hit with flashes of scenes from the collections of dreams he’s had. Smiles. Laughter. Love. All things from two small children who are the perfect combination of himself and Solana. 

Twin girls. 

Their girls.

Catalina and Cataleya Reigns. 

But as quickly as that arrives, reality sets in.

Despite the turmoil within, his hand on the small of her back continues to rub soothing circles that do more for him than her. “Solana, those are just—they’re just dreams.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice softening to another level. “They’re visions. Visions of our future. Of the lives we’re going to have. Of the family we’re going to have. Of the father you’re going to be.”

“I should feel something though, Solana,” he stresses. “You’re pregnant, and I don’t….I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m not upset, but I’m not….I don’t feel what you do.”

It’s a sad, almost scary, embarrassing thing to admit. To tell his wife that he doesn’t know how to feel about a pregnancy she’s ecstatic about. But, he does. Because he owes her that much.

Owes her honestly.

“That’s okay, Roman.” The surprises continue, because her response, the tone of almost sympathy, are most certainly not what he was expecting. “I know feelings are hard for you, and I know this is a new experience for you. That’s….that’s okay. What’s not okay is you thinking or even believing you can’t do this, because you can. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re going to do it together.”

Roman inhales deeply, trying his best to let her words penetrate his strong exterior. 

And then she continues to show her sainthood, continues to show just how she’s far too good for him. “Roman….” Her eyes shift downward, and so do his. Only then does he realize while one hand is on her back, the other is planted on her stomach. Her hand over his. “I’m—I’m carrying them, so I think….I think that makes that bond stronger, easier even.” Roman doesn’t say anything, but it’s impossible for him to not think about how that’s exactly what Lita had said to him.

“What if I can’t connect with them?” A quiet, almost hushed escapee from that deeply embedded box of fears he keeps tucked away. It consists of only a few things, very few, and that most definitely happens to be one of them. “If I can’t—bond with them like you?”

“You won’t bond and connect with them like I do, because I’m their mother. That relationship between mother and daughters is always going to be different from that of father and daughters. There’s something….something special about that. Something you’ll have with them that I can never have because it’s just different, but I promise you, Roman. It’ll be there, baby.” Solana shifts her body on his lap, leaning into her chest, hugging him, laying her head in the crook of his neck. Naturally, Roman holds her, kissing her temple, thankful for her words, for her support, for her belief in him, for her.

“And maybe…maybe it won’t be now.” She moves her hand up and down his chest, a comforting gesture. “Maybe it won’t really hit for you during the pregnancy, and that’s okay, because I know, the minute you hold them for the first time, it’ll click. You’ll feel it then. Feel that love.”

Love.

Once something that was unfamiliar and foreign to him, now something that overwhelms him with its depth and weight whenever he’s around this woman. And it’s that thought, that thought of how Solana managed to completely turn his life around in the best way possible that convinces him maybe, just maybe, she’s right.

“Thank you.” Another whispered thing that emanates from the deepest part of him. “Thank you, Solana.”

She makes a sound and kisses the underside of his bearded jaw. “Never have to thank me for loving you, Ro.” It’s a natural thing for her at this point. Something that feels like it was always meant to be.

They were always meant to be.

—-------

Blood. 

So much blood. 

Too much blood.

She has to save him.

Spewing, streaming, bleeding from open, gaping wounds. So many wounds, the blood saturating the dark, bulky armor that he wears. Armor that, no matter how much she tries, she can’t get off him. And she needs to get it off to treat him, to help him, to do what no one else will.

Because no one else is there.

It’s him, and it’s her, and she has to save him. 

There is no one else to do so.

But try as hard as she can, for all of her efforts, Solana’s hands and clothes continue to stain red from the blood that continues to pour out of him at an alarming rate, much quicker than anything she’s ever seen, which is how she knows there are several bullet and/or stab wounds

She has to save him. 

Her mouth opens, words of desperation and pleas tumbling out as works endlessly to treat him, begs of mercy to God, to whomever, to anyone, to hear her cries. Blood soaked hands that intermittently go to shake him, to keep him from drifting, but she knows this scene. Knows it all too well. 

Has seen it play out before.

And, it guts her.

“Stay with me, okay?” She gasps, her chest feeling like it’s about to explode at any moment. “Just—just stay, okay? You’re—you’re gonna be okay.”

He says nothing, has said nothing, just continues to lay there, rendered silent to his injuries. Injuries he’s slowly succumbing to. 

“I’m gonna s—s–ave you,” she promises, going back to trying to remove the goddamn armor for him only for it to not bulge once more. She shouts out in frustration, gasping violently, using her forearm to wipe at her eyes. The tears blurring her vision serve as a barrier she can’t afford. “It’s—Roman?” Breathing halts. Time stops. Existence ceases. “R–Ro?” A trembling hands digs through the material covering his neck to feel for his pulse, Solana immediately gasping and snatching back her hand. “N–no.” Solana shakes her head, moving to shake him. “R—Roman, wake up. Please—please wake up—” Her please of mercy are a stark contrast to the empty, vacant look in his eyes. A look she’s only seen once before on the only other day of her life where it all ended.

The day her mother was killed.

The sob escapes from the back of her throat, as she moves her body over his, still trying to shake him awake, refusing to lose him to the devastating grips of fate. “W–wake up!” Her cries echo in the void of the abyss that surrounds him. “You–you can’t leave us. W—wake up!”

“Solana!”

Solana shoots up with a violent gasp, immediately hyperventilating, eyes wide and forward and focused on nothing in general. Not at first, at least. It’s only when Roman hits the light on the nightstand and moves his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, Solana starts to come down from the shock and into the hysterics.

She moves her hands to his bare chest, feeling around, needing to feel and see for herself.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice finally registers, as she realizes he’s been trying to talk to and calm her down this entire time. “Solana—”

“It felt so real,” she cries, unable to shake the violent imagery away. “You were—” She can barely get the words out, something Roman seems against as he tries to settle, seeing how talking is even more distressing for her. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t save you.”

It’s only then he seems to understand why she’s so upset, knows the content of her dreams, “baby, I’m fi—”

“I can’t lose you,” she gasps, moving her hands to his forearms, holding him. “I can’t lose you, Roman.”

“You’re not going to, Sol,” he vows, hand cradling the back of her head. “Baby, I’m fine. Nothing is going to—”

Solana continues to shake her head, one hand dropping to her stomach. “I can’t—I can’t raise the girls without you.”

“You won’t,” he promises, expression sympathetic. “Solana, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise me.” Her voice is sudden and desperate, her eyes wide and filled with tears. “Promise me nothing’s going to happen to you.”

There’s hesitation, only for a second, but not enough to draw her attention. “I promise nothing’s going to happen to me, Solana.”

Words. A sentence. But, it does something for her. Clearly and visibly decreases her spiked anxiety. Solana nods, closing her eyes and moving herself into Roman’s chest as he guides them so that they’re laying back down, her body pressed into his.

Unaware that at the same time Roman tries to comfort his wife, elsewhere across town, various notifications arrive. One a text, the other an answer. 

One of departure from one group. 

*Jey Uso has left the Operation RoSo conversation*

One informing of arrival into another.

Jey Uso: I’m in.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Hannibal (TV)/Silence of the Lambs, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood, kidnapping, mentions of violence. basically don’t tell these guys you want a kid ig

♡notes; another sparse selection but i don’t think Billy Lenz is allowed within 100 yards of a school so it is what it is

also I hate how much I’m starting to love Bo oh my god

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Vincent Sinclair

> he’s a nurturing man- to his brothers and you

> hell he babies Jonesy too

> even so, he’s shocked when you mention offhandedly that he’d make a good father

> he denies it vehemently

> even as the golden child he grew up in hell

> no way he’d know how to do any of it right

> but you just gently laugh and shake your head, insisting but not pressing it

> it makes him think

> and think and think

> he didn’t know much about kids, but you’d be a great parent

> and you wouldn’t lie to him- maybe he’d be at least an okay father

> families don’t come through often

> and when they do, Lester leaves them be

> if they ever get to Ambrose on their own, the town stays off- none of the Sinclairs want anything to do with harming children

> but mistakes happen, and Bo is freaking out

> a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes was sleeping in the back of a car while he took care of her parents, and he didn’t realize until far to late

> she’s maybe 3, and awfully scared and quiet- but when they bring her in the house she walks right up to you and Vincent

> she hugs your leg and finally smiles when Vincent kneels down to show her that Jonesy is a nice dog

> Bo is in shock when you volunteer to adopt her, but Vincent is in quick agreement

> she’s nonverbal, but you look through her family’s things to find out her name - Lilly Henson, or something to that affect .

> Lilly Sinclair has a much better ring to it anyways, doesn’t it?

Bo Sinclair

> he’s the type that if you mention that you want a kid to this man, he asks what color

> he is endlessly devoted to you

> and while he never wanted a kid before, he’s always so insistent you make him a better man

> so some snot nosed brats would complete the picture perfectly

> he’s not super serious about it, not really

> you have plenty of time to plan for a family

> and he’s the type to want biological children if possible- he’s so used to white picket fence suburbia-type ideals

> when a car pulls up to the gas station, he stops when he sees the infant car seat in the back

> he’s about to tell the parents to move along- but then he sees the second matching one

> something - probably his overinflated self worth - tells him he’d be a much better father to twins that these chucklefucks

> and you want a kid anyways! would two be much better

> they’re not identical- he’s not not disappointed by the fact, but they’re still adorable

> a boy and a girl a bit over a year, with big brown eyes and infectious giggles

> he’s beyond proud when he strides in with them

> “daddy’s home!”

> he thinks you might actually kill him this time

> but then Charlotte - the girl based on what’s embroidered on her blankie, reaches for you and you melt

> you’re still scolding him as you happily take Theodore too

> but he knows you’re beyond thrilled

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s always wanted a successor

> quite frankly it never had to be his child - or a child at all

> he thought about taking younger serial killers in the making under his wing more than once

> to teach them the art of culinary cannibalism and the finer points of flaying people

> but it’s far too dangerous - especially with you around

> you’re the one thing that trumps his egomania

> so he lets it be for the time being

> but one day, he takes on a special case at work

> a young boy who recently lost his parents very violently

> he’s in kindergarten, and expresses most everything through his rather advanced drawings

> you don’t interact with his patients- even though he works from home you’re pretty skilled at dodging them

> but on the way out that afternoon the little boy- Peter, his name is, runs out before his social worker and smack dab into you

> she apologizes on his half profusely but you’re so sweet with the boy

> you pick up his dropped drawings and comfort him- he’s quite upset he may have hurt or angered you

> he gives you a huge hug and Hannibal can see the fond, parental look on your face

> after that it’s quite simple to draw up the paperwork

> he’s already in foster care, and it only takes a few false documents to make the courts think that Hannibal’s custody is the best place for little Peter

> you learned long ago that it’s best not to question how or why Hannibal does something when he gets like that

> and either way you’re content with your new little family

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.

Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.

His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.

I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.

The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.

He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”

“Oh. So, you can’t—?”

“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”

“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”

“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”

His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”

I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”

Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"

“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”

In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.

I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.

When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Not really, why?”

“Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”

“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.

He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”

Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.

When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.

We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”

I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”

“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”

“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”

He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.

After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.

He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”

I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.

In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”

He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”

“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.

I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.

I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.

Prev // Next

[itsabouttimex2]

May I ask

Which characters will include in the primal moon scenario ?

Essentially, whichever characters I can think of scenarios for- writing Monkiefam was pretty easy, because monkeys have complex hierarchies to draw from. I spent a while observing different species at a local zoo (they’re mean. God, they’re so mean.) and decided to write a fic based on the behaviors I saw. (I’ll post that video at the bottom!)

Despite their status as the lowest ranked member of the ‘troop’, Wukong sees Y/N as his biological child. He won’t listen to any arguments about the difference in age or species, no matter what evidence is presented to refute him. Macaque is seen as his ‘little brother’, their rivalry temporarily forgotten. (Though only on Wukong’s end.)

The Great Sage is just lucid enough to recognize MK as his cherished student, and tries to give him advice… but his mind is a little too muddled by viridescence to offer anything sound. He also accidentally enables the worst of Primal!MK’s traits by complimenting and comforting him whenever things go wrong.

He’s thankfully rather laidback about the whole thing, only getting violent when he feels that his ‘family’ or status are threatened.

Macaque returns to his long-forgotten docile demeanor, a remnant of his days as a member of the Sworn Brotherhood- though he tries to fight the shift. It butchers the simian’s pride to resume a position of submissiveness, especially now that it’s to two people- one of whom may well be a teenager. Also, he’s sincerely desperate for comfort and companionship, so he spends most of the week fighting himself to not participate in any bonding activities.

He’ll make a ‘rank-scaling’ attempt or two, only to get beaten down and potentially pushed behind even Y/N in terms of status if he does it enough.

Sun Wukong->MK->Macaque->Y/N is the troop ranking, and it’s pretty rigid.

MK is, uh… in a pretty rough state. He’s never had any preparation for the Primal Moon, thinking himself a regular human for almost the entire time that he’s been alive.

———————————————————————

Honestly, it’s Tang that gives me the hardest time! assuming we can call upon his cicada ancestry, he’s- got absolutely nothing. Female cicadas use their ovipositors to slice into thin branches many times, leaving clutches of eggs as they go- that’s about as far as parental instincts go for them, given that they and the males die soon after breeding. (The males, in fact, die pretty much directly after.) I guess I’d place him with Princess Iron Fan and Ne Zha as the ‘normal’ guys.

Pigsy is, as you know- a male pig. Who are notorious piglet-killers. Eating piglets, stepping on piglets, rolling over and crushing piglets- intentionally killing entire piglet litters to force females back into estrus- it gets pretty brutal. So I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with him for this story- though I imagine he’ll be aggressive/hair-trigger, with Tang being the one thing that holds him back.

———————————————————————

Mei was pretty easy to write, but I did a lot of research on Chinese dragons in order to keep my representation of her respectful. Dragons in the west are usually reduced to bloodthirsty beasts of pride and rage- creatures to be slain and overcome as monstrous final obstacles. This portrayal even dates back to Beowulf, with the dragon portrayed then going on to characterize many dragons that came after it. (For example, Smaug was based partly on Beowulf’s dragon, and partly on Fafnir- so if any others dragons are based on Smaug, then they too call back upon the original.

In Chinese culture, dragons are considered wise and powerful beings. They’re worshipped as symbols of prosperity and good luck, and considered very auspicious beings.

So, Mei seems more composed in this AU- but it’s all an act. Given the stigma that non-humans have on account of the Primal Moon, she spends a lot of time pretending to be something that she’s not so that no one ends up being afraid. Mei’s obsession with with Y/N primarily stems from their complete acceptance of who she is, inside and out. Instead of having to pretend to be dignified and wise and rational, she gets to be the real Mei. She can goofy and energetic with you, not afraid to roughhouse or throw hands.

———————————————————————-

For Bullfam, I think Princess Iron Fan very much would be the ‘only sane man’- if two things weren’t occurring:

1. Her husband wasn’t trying to talk her into having a second child and worshipping her every step, his tongue spinning crude admirations of her beauty and battle prowess.

2. Her son wasn’t clinging to her waist and arms, begging for validation and attention, futilely trying to drag her into his workshop to compliment his blueprints and machines.

So she has her boy (after some headpats and a little bit of buttering up) run off to the surface and snatch a suitably young human who’s been left unattended, imposing them as a temporary ‘second child’ and ‘younger sibling’… before getting attached. Even though they were supposed to be disposable, she works them into a more permanent fixture of her family.

Given that Red Son is the one who picks you out, he feels a special bond with you. Instead of being more aggressive or even prouder- Red gets clingy. His desire for love and respect comes to the forefront, leading him to latch onto Y/N as tightly as possible. Hugs, headpats, back rubs, hair combing- he wants affection in as many forms as possible. I like to think he temporarily grows horns during the Primal Moon, and that he really likes having them rubbed and polished.

And as for Demon Bull King… this man is already aggressive as hell and pretty damn tempestuous, seeing red at the drop of a hat. So, with very little inhibition as is, he’s the sort of demon hit hardest. Bull King’s mental faculties degrade by a touch or two, rendering him very animalistic. He’s the opposite of Mei here- she puts herself through a ton of suppression and training and it all pays off spectacularly. He actively leans into the instincts and new power the viridescence brings, reveling in a more bestial state.

So, while Y/N openly and freely gives Mei love and affection, they instead cower and hide from Demon Bull King.

He wants more kids. Wants to spend more time with his wife. Wants to fight and break and feast. And when Y/N is abducted brought home, his aggression outright doubles. This is kinda good, though- now he’s so protective that he’s pacing the fortress in hourly patrols, wearing himself out as he digs deep grooves into the earth, carving his sigil into the stones around him many times over, marking the territory as inextricably his.

And all he wants upon returning home is a nap- with his entire family piled onto the bed, of course.

———————————————————————

Also, if anyone has recommendations for how characters should act, I’d be happy to hear them!

[pocket-watcher]

“It’s interesting, with a power set so vast you must have some weakness just as broad to balance you out.” The scientist said as they poked and prodded you.

You laughed nervously. “What? No. That’s ridiculous. I don’t have any weaknesses.”

And you believed that, of course. Fire resistance, high pain thresholds, and you no longer had your fear of heights! Turns out saving people 20 stories up really helps with exposure therapy!

“Biologically speaking, everything has a weakness. Predators have blind spots, they’re scared of noise, they can’t conceal their blood like prey can. So… what’s your weakness?” The scientist mused once more, not asking you specifically but more as if asking the universe.

You took a deep breath and tried not to panic. This was one of the top scientists in the country, here to help you, not to take you down.

“Are you okay?” They asked, innocently.

Too innocent.

They looked up as you looked down. Nose to nose.

Your head shot upwards to avoid their stare.

“Yeah! I-I’m fine. Just… you know…” You rocked your head slightly trying to think of another topic to talk about. “So… what do you think my weakness is?”

Their eyes lit up.

In a flash they rounded up a box and began showing your data.

Despite your enhanced intelligence your brain couldn’t keep up with the speed at which they spoke.

“-and if you look at this graph here, you’ll find what’s really interesting is the activity in your prefrontal cortex spikes! At the same time your right medial temporal lobe starts working overtime, like a forceful relaxant. It’s like somehow a specific combination of lights and patterns overrides your brain like a giant helping of melatonin!”

Um.

“What?”

They blinked at you. “Aha… got a little excited there. Maybe a demonstration would help?”

You began to agree as they span you into a seat and wheeled you through the lab.

Dear god these scientists were fearless, you thought.

When you came to a stop you were hooked up to several wires, a heart-rate monitor, some strange-looking device holding your head in place (and possibly scanning it too?) and your arms pinned down… not that those restraints could do much. You’d bench pressed a 747 before lunch.

“Okay. So, I want you to listen to the voice coming out of the speakers and to watch the screen. Okay?”

You nodded, still unsure, but that unsureness seemed to disappear instantly once the screen began flashing.

The colours were too fast for you to register. The voice was repeating words that both you couldn’t understand but also rewrote your brain.

You felt your mouth hang open and your body go limp. You were vulnerable, incapacitated, all within a single minute of this scientist hooking you up to the machine.

“It’s just as I thought! How do you feel?” They asked, lifting your limp wrist and dropping it down before scribbling more notes.

You couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to.

They checked your pupils for responses and studied the data, whilst you sat there staring at the screen. Listening to the constant flow of unintelligible words.

“Okay! We should probably get you outta there, huh?” They said as they flipped the machine off.

It took you a while to fully come to your senses.

“…What was that?” You asked, incredulously.

“That was your weakness. Theorised, and now proven.”

You didn’t know what to do. You’d never been made to feel so small. So at the mercy of someone else.

“You had no right.”

You stopped. The safety of the world was at stake. If this information fell into the wrong hands…

“Woah there, we’re the only ones here! I won’t tell anyone. I promise…”

You felt an “if” coming.

“If you let me run more tests like that? We can work together, see if we can find a way for you to resist it.” The scientist smiled kindly.

You felt scared for the first time in a long time. Scared of what someone could make you do. How they could make you feel.

“Fine. If that’s the price to keep you from talking, we can run more tests.” You settled.

“Great! I promise you won’t regret it!” The scientist waved you out of the room. Once you were out of earshot they typed out a message:

It worked just as you said it would. I’ll start working on the conditioning pronto. You sure I shouldn’t have tried turning them now?

A phone pinged back a moment later:

No… slow and steady wins the race my friend. Great work.

Somewhere, a villain smiled at her phone, dreaming of a subservient hero.

[fangdokja]

Hey, this just me getting mind blocked right now. Haha. But, i just wanted to thank all the supporters, engagement, and followers thus far. You know who you are.

Actually, I’ve been wanting to practice sex scenes for a while now. I do have upcoming posts. Last part of Skin of the Saint is one with explicit sex will be posted TODAY. But I wouldn’t classify it as smut.

I don’t know. I don’t get turned on or aroused in literally anything besides my husband. So. Writing actual smut is a challenge. Actually, in writing and reading, if it’s not about my husband or God, I get very clinical in general. Hard to feel emotions of anything at all really.

My Christmas and New Years gifts for you guys also have sex stuff in it. Honestly don’t know if it’s good or not.

It’s really my first time releasing actual sex content in public. So yeah.

But anyways, I’m rambling because I know Tumblr loves sex. And porn to an extension. That’s an understatement. Tumblr loves it.

But my husband and God are really strict about me not allowing me to get into erotica.

So.

But I can write dark romance. Definitely. It’s what I’ve been doing.

So, I guess, I’m trying to think on stuff about how to incorporate smut practice (complete with both emotions + atmosphere + descriptions and more).

Without making it straight up erotica (dark romance can still have explicit sex scenes). So I thought of some upcoming fics:

Yandere! Serial Killers x Detective (?) Reader (novella)

Yandere! Fans x Playgirl (novelette)

When I looked up ideas for smut, I honestly never vibed nor liked the top stories that came up. Just felt unrealistic and shallow. And I am NOT allowed to write porn. So…

Yeah. It’s why I have to incorporate hardcore psychological content. And a common theme in all my works.

One of my main issues right now is that I can’t fricking think of how to write short form content. If you noticed I have a lot of slow burn sex.

It doesn’t feel right for fast burn sex, you know? But I think it’s just me, unlike my husband, I have like zero to low libido in general. I can honestly go without anything sexual.

ANYWAYS. I’m not sure on how to make short form content on sex. I don’t want it to just be porn or non sensical shallow smut. It’s not just about kinks like dumbification. Not only is it boring for me to write something without actual tension, but it doesn’t feel REAL.

“If I Can’t Have You” by Deathsdoll did really well in descriptions and suspenseful tension in Chapters 1 to 12. I didn’t like the rest, fell off for me. But the start is golden. Really good.

Not only is it non con but it has intense sex, but more than that, the “actual sexual and violence or death tension” is there.

So I’m trying to think on how to combine sex + psychological into short form stories. Most stories seen are just shallow sex or kinks or whatever. I won’t deny that they’re good at descriptions to a certain degree.

But, not my thing. To me, it’s just fantasies as usual. I like my work grounded on some realism or at least dystopian dark setting and themes.

For my writing style, I never write “Oh, they banged hallelujah.” Actually anything I write won’t feel right without the psychological aspect into it.

Most people are fine with turning off the brain and fantasizing or masturbating (have never done both), but me writing and even reading it? No.

To me, without the danger factor or some uncomfortable unsettling factor. Sex is just reproduction. Or biological processes. That’s honestly how I see it.

Anyways.

Sorry, I’m rambling. Before my husband, I was never interested in romance, much less sex actually lol.

Anyways. Again.

My issue is SHORT FORM SEXUAL CONTENT. Ahhhh. Without the burn, it doesn’t feel right. It feels wrong. I’m okay with fast burn romance but not fast burn sex. I can read about it.

Doesn’t mean I like it.

I am mind blocked in this aspect.

And honestly my husband is right. Again. I’m severely overthinking again. I should just talk to God and him, aahh.

Ok enough rambling….. back to upcoming books….

I guess you could say, this post is a thank you to all the supporters so far, and also my writing process. And future plans.

I haven’t posted anything explicitly sexual yet because I want to debut my first sex content for my gifts to you guys.

Both stories may stay dark romance or can even become erotic horror (a genre I’m also allowed to write) or become just inherently psychosexual as well. Not sure yet.

But the Forbidden Fruits is meant to combine taboo and psychological.

And yes. Both are reverse harem stories.

Or maybe you guys just want the short form content i’m brainstorming and trying to figure out.

Either way, your opinions and thoughts are welcomed.

[stilljuststardust]

I’m a 15 years old girl and my parents are very homophobic

Today my mom made me sat down because she thinks that I wanna turn into a boy and she told me for my old sis to also come downstairs to talk about it cause they found it weird mind you they’re very religious

After my big sis came downstairs my mom started talking about how I act like a boy when I’m a girl also that God made me a girl so why would I try to change into a girl and also said that if I keep acting like this she would take all my electronics

And send me somewhere else where I won’t see her and my siblings ever again

I’m crying so much because I did everything to change myself to become normal like others straight but nothing works and I found out that I want to be a boy I tried everything like manifesting being a man nothing it working and circumstances keeps getting worse and worse till the point it making me depressed like maybe I’m stuck this way maybe I will never be a man

I’m so scared cause she said if I don’t change I will not have access to phone I’m having a bad breakdown rn idk what to do anymore I’m so lost

But part of me still believes I’m a man no matter what

Hello, before I give you LOA advice let's talk

You ARE a man. You are a man. You are a man.

You are a man no matter what.

You don't have to do anything to be a man. It's who you are deep down in the pit of your soul. You already are a man.

Not just in an LOA sense, I'm saying this from a non-manifesting perspective: you are not a girl.

You will never be a girl, you never were. Do you understand that? Who you are as a person is a man.

I'm like you.

It's ok to be a trans. Being trans is normal. Half my friends are trans, I'm trans. You aren't alone, you aren't the only one. There is nothing wrong with you.

Firstly I would like to say, always always always prioritize your safety and well-being.

I know it's easier said than done but the closet exists for a reason. It keeps us safe. Do not come out if it would put you in danger. You do not have to be out to be valid.

I hate that my advice is to fawn and pretend to be something you're not, but its safest sometimes.

It feels so far away now, but there will be a time when you are free to be who you are. You will find people who support you. You will find people who are like you. When I was in your place 18 felt so far away and unreachable, but it's not. Freedom will come. Please hold on.

Link to The Trevor project. (Councilors and hotline for queer people who are struggling mentally)

Loa

At the end there will be a handful of LOA posts I think you should read/you might be interested in + subliminals for you. The most important one in my opinion being the one I list first.

The law gets over complicated alot. At the end of the day it boils down to this.

An assumption, though false, if persisted in will harden into fact.

An assumption being something you accept as the truth without needing evidence and persistence meaning you assume regardless of what the 3D shows you.

Essentially, you decide you have your desire and you are stubborn in that decision.

It's ok to feel intense emotions, it's ok to be scared and hurt and frustrated, you just have to assume that no matter what the physical world shows you you are undeniably biologically male.

There is no more advice to give, there is only the law. Assume, affirm, persist.

The posts

How I manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances (blushydior)

If it's too long a read (seriously I think you should read the whole thing either way) here's the parts I thought would benefit you the most

What you need to know about loa

How to ignore the 3D

Nothing is true until you decide it is

It's ok to feel like shit

Loa checklist

Subliminals and affirmation tapes

Revise past negative events

Desired body

Mind over matter

It's done

Your desire is a fact

I keep getting results

If you need motivation

@loasuccessarchive

[minty-mumbles]

Whumptober Day 16: "Don't go where I can't follow" (Pt. 1)

Summary: Hyrule and Wild are time travelers trying to run away from their past. They seem to be doing a pretty good job at it until they stumble across a family they don't want to leave behind. They end up leaving anyway, but unlike every other time they've left people behind, the Lon family doesn't seem content to stay in the past.

AN: This is fairly tame as far as whump goes. Mostly just emotional whump, but there is some human experimentation/slavery in the flashbacks

Read on AO3 | Part 2

~~~

“Hyrule, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“The apple we sent forward in time is sitting in front of us.”

“Yeah.”

“Wild, we sent this forward in time a month ago.”

“Mhmm.” 

“The spell worked?”

“It worked. Hyrule!” 

“Wild! We did it!”

”Oh my gods! Are- are you-”

“The apple is still fresh! There’s no sign of rotting.”

“Are- are you feeling okay though? Not feeling woozy or anything?”

“My magic feels just fine. The spell was completely reliant on that magical battery. All I had to do was set the magic going in the right direction, and let it run. It didn’t drain anything from me at all. What about you?”

“You know I’m fine, ‘Rule. I don't have the power needed to do something like this. All I’m good for is fine-tuning. If the spell had been operating off my power, it wouldn’t have even worked in the first place.”

“...”

“I wonder what those stuck up Sheikah scientists would do if they knew?” 

“Probably try to take credit for our work. Two teenagers with magic invent a fictional time travel spell before they can? They would kill us.”

“Not funny, Hyrule.”

“I wasn’t really joking.”

“...”

“Wild, do you know what this means? Now that we know the spell works, we can leave! Well, we need to get our hands on another battery. Preferably one that won't run out of power and explode like the last one did, and who knows how long that’s going to take, but-!”

“But afterwards we can leave! We can travel back to before this gods-forsaken building was even built and just walk away. And I don’t think it’ll take us long to get a hold of a strong enough battery.”

“What do you mean?”

“I swear, you need to start paying more attention to the scientists, Hyrule.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when I’m nearly unconscious every time they finish their… experiments. It’s hard to listen to their conversations if I can’t hear anything.”

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s okay. What were you saying?”

“They found a new artifact. They’ve been testing it for a month and still haven't found the limits of its power. They think it might be regenerating the power on its own. Supposedly it’s a combination of ancient Sheikah tech and magic. They’re calling it the Sheikah Slate.”

“A self-regenerating power source? That’s almost too good to be true.”

“Yeah. So…. How long will it take you to steal it, ‘Rule?”

“Just point me in the direction of the room they’re keeping it in, and I’ll have it to you within twenty-four hours.” 

“...“

“Wipe that grin off your face, Wild!”

“Why shouldn't I be happy? We’re finally getting out!”

~~~

Wild and Hyrule.

Hyrule and Wild. 

It had always been the two of them. They were brothers. Maybe not biologically, but they had suffered and survived together, and now they were doing more than surviving. They were living. 

They traveled together, always one step ahead of harm and one spell away from safety. They were filled with a longing to explore the world, and neither of them had a reason to ignore that longing, so they simply didn’t. 

They had a thirst to see, to know, to experience, and they had the power to do all that and more at their fingertips.

It was kind of ironic that the time travel spell turned out to be so simple in the end. Hyrule provided the force behind the spell, the Slate provided the raw power, and Wild did the fine-tuning to get them exactly where and when they wanted to go. After casting the spell hundreds of times, it was second nature to them. They could slip through the fabric of time with less effort than a sewing needle slipping through loosely woven cloth.

The Slate had been a blessing from the gods. They never would’ve escaped that laboratory. Not only did it provide a steady source of power that never seemed to run dry- no matter how often they jumped through time- it was also able to store items and money within it. It made their lives so much easier. 

The two of them had been everywhere and everywhen. All over the world, in all different time periods. Sometimes they traveled back to the time when humans were nothing more than apes living in the trees, and spent weeks living off the land. Sometimes they stopped in busy cities to enjoy the rush of the crowds. Occasionally they would wander into a library, pull the first history book they saw off the shelf, then travel to the time period the book was about. 

The entire world was open to them, and they could do whatever they wanted to.

Well, mostly. There were some limitations.

They couldn't change the past. As much as they wanted to, they couldn’t stop wars from breaking out or plagues from spreading. They also couldn’t go back and prevent their own personal tragedies from happening. Doing that would cause their pasts to change too much, and they might end up not existing in the first place. 

Neither of them were exactly eager to cause a paradox, so neither of them tried to play the hero, and they stayed away from times and places they’d already been to before. 

They also couldn’t travel beyond the late 2200s. That was when functional time travel technology had finally been discovered, and then promptly outlawed for normal citizens. They’d learned that the hard way when they’d nearly been arrested in 2311 for illegal time travel. 

Getting arrested was the last thing they needed. Wild said that he could think of plenty of governments that would love to get their hands on two of the most powerful mages in the world. Hyrule squawked in protest at being called one of the most powerful mages, but there was no refuting that Wild was probably right. 

There were very few mages left by the 2200s. Wild and Hyrule probably were the strongest ones left by that time. Any mage that was still living a free life after magic was outlawed would be too weak to be noticed by the government. (Well… technically magic was never completely outlawed, but it was only legal if you were using it in the service of the government. It was a nice way of saying that if you showed any signs of having magic, you were taken into state custody and you stayed there. Forever.)

To their relief, the pair had never seen any other time travelers before the 2240s. They didn’t know why, but they weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As long as they stayed in time periods before then, they were safe from the government, or anyone else for that matter, coming after them.

The fact that time travel was only discovered in the late 2200s offered them a bit of smug satisfaction. They had figured out time travel first, and they did it long before anyone else had. Nearly a hundred years before anyone else.

On top of that, the scientists obviously never cracked the secrets of magical time travel. Their time travel was purely technology-based. When Wild realized that, he gloated for a whole hour. Even Hyrule had smiled with a sense of sick satisfaction. Those scientists never got anything useful out of them. 

Good.

~~~

There had been a time Before. There had been a time when they hadn’t known each other. There had been a time when they’d had loving families and normal lives ahead of them. Wild had lived with his mom, dad, and little sister. Hyrule had been cared for by his mama and aunties and countless cousins.

Then it had all fallen apart. 

They were both young when their magic came in- only five or six years old, by their recollection. It had started slowly, as it always did. Little sparks would dance across Hyrule’s fingers, and Wild’s eyes would glow an eerie teal in the dark. 

Small, harmless things that marked them for slaughter. 

Wild’s parents hadn’t been brave enough to fight for him. 

They hadn’t wanted to face the consequences of harboring a magic user, even if that person was their own son. They had their other child to worry about, after all. They couldn't risk having his sister taken away from them as well.

So, at the young age of five, mere days after he had started showing the fit signs of magic, Wild’s parents had given him away with little fuss. It was one of Wild’s earliest memories. (Which was saying something, since he didn’t remember much of his childhood.) 

His parents both wore sorrowful expressions that day. Wild remembered being confused, but not commenting on it. His parents had been acting strangely for a while, after all. They had woken him up early, gotten him dressed, and handed him a backpack filled with some of his clothes. Then they had taken him to their living room where an official-looking stranger had been waiting. 

Wild hadn’t known what was going on at the time, so he had watched silently as his parents had signed the necessary paperwork to transfer custody of him over to the state. 

That had been the last time he had seen either of them. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye to his little sister.

Hyrule’s mother had been braver. Hyrule had been her only child, and she was not so willing to give him up. 

When she’d seen him use his magic for the first time, she’d screamed and cried in despair. Her reaction had frightened Hyrule so badly he’d ran away and hid under his bed. The two of them had left their house soon after that, selling it to one of his aunts. 

They moved out to the middle of the woods and learned how to grow and hunt most of the things they would need so they didn't need to go into town as much. His mama had started homeschooling him.

His mama had tried so hard to keep it a secret. She’d done everything she could have done. And it had worked for a time. The pair of them spent three years living in seclusion, but it wasn’t enough in the end. 

Hyrule never learned how the secret got leaked. Maybe one of his cousins had figured it out and blabbed. Maybe one of their neighbors had seen him doing magic in the woods one day. Hyrule didn’t know. 

In the end, it didn’t matter how it had happened, only that it did. Their little cabin was raided, and Hyrule was forcibly removed from his mother's care, and made a ward of the state.

That was how the two met at the age of nine, causing their fates to be changed forever.

~~~

It was rare for the two of them to stay in one place for longer than a month. They both had itchy feet, and nothing seemed to hold their interest for very long. Usually, they arrived, saw what they came to see, and then grew bored and moved on. 

No one expected them to stay, no one expected them to go. No one expected them to do anything. After years of being observed and examined through a microscope, it was a novel feeling to blend into the background.

It was even easier to blend in during the earlier time periods. Back then, people hadn’t looked twice at strangers wandering into town with no documentation. The pair had tried to rent an apartment in the 1980s once. That hadn’t turned out well when they realized neither of them had any paperwork. Like, say, a birth certificate, driver’s license, or any kind of identification. 

In general, it was less of a risk in general to exist in the 1800s or earlier, when no one had cameras or access to the internet, and no one cared if they ran into two teenagers living in the woods. 

It was also easier to earn money if they needed to. 

The pair didn’t shy away from stealing if it was necessary, though they were careful to try to only steal from people who wouldn't miss it too much. However, when they decided to stay in one place for a while, they typically tried to find a steady source of income instead. 

After they had spent so long wandering, they had both picked up a wide variety of skills. Neither of them were true masters of any one trade, but they could perform the basic tasks well enough to serve as assistants in most kinds of workshops. They could work in the fields, tend livestock, butcher animals, harvest, hunt, and fish. They knew enough to do the busy work in leatherworking, baking, stonemasonry, shoemaking, and all other sorts of crafts.

Wild had learned how to fletch arrows, which was always a talent in high demand in the eras where people still used bows. Hyrule had studied under a cartographer for a few months. They both became proficient with swords, bows, and spears. They learned how to use their bodies as weapons if needed. They even learned how to fire guns, even if they were rarely in a time period where guns existed.

Fighting was the topic they’d studied the most diligently. They learned and relearned until they didn’t even need their magic to defend themselves anymore. Not as long as they had weapons in their hands. (The phantom feeling of the weight of the magic suppressors on their ankles was ever-present. Never again would they be that helpless without their magic.)

Growing up with a basic understanding of modern medicine put them miles ahead of even the most educated doctors in the 1500s. Having a basic understanding of what germs were would do that, but Hyrule had taken the time to translate that modern knowledge into a form that could be applied using the materials that were available in the pre-modern era. He also, thankfully, learned how to use that medical knowledge in a way that wouldn't get them hung for being witches when he provided a miracle cure to some disease or injury. 

If they really needed to, they could even find a small city and become street performers or put on a show in a tavern or pub. Hyrule had slowly taught himself how to play the ocarina and flute, and Wild could sing. They didn’t even have to make up their own songs. All they had to do was play music from the modern era, and the foreign rhythms of the songs drew attention to them automatically. The amount of money you could get from playing an instrumental version of Britney Spears’ Toxic in 1432 was truly a wonder.

In short, there was always something they could do to earn some money if they wanted to. 

~~~

Wild sat on the edge of his bed and watched dispassionately as the new kid sobbed into the tiled floor. Wild’s feet didn't reach the floor, so he idly swung them back and forth as he observed. His fingers, restless and still numb from the freeze spell he’d been forced to cast over and over today, fiddled with the edge of the soft blanket he sat on top of.

A small part of him wanted to go help the boy, even if he knew it would be pointless. Wild had been here for years, and he’d seen plenty of other kids come and go. Some of them were quiet when they entered the room for the first time, nodding to Wild and putting away their meager selection of clothing in the dresser they would share with Wild while they lived here. Those were the ones who had already been in state custody for a while.

Then there were others, like this boy, who were forced into the room by the guards. Sometimes they screamed, sometimes they cried, sometimes they clawed at the door desperately, like wild animals. Those were the ones who had just been dragged away from their families. 

Wild knew that trying to offer comfort never actually helped. Nothing he could say could make it better, and some things he would say could make it a whole lot worse

The boy was one of the ones who simply cried. He hadn’t even bothered to stand once he had been shoved into the room, instead lying defeated on the floor. 

The boy looked sweet, with thick brown curls and freckles covering every inch of available skin. 

He was probably right around Wild’s age too, which was somewhat of a rarity. Sometimes his roommates were as young as five, sometimes as old as fourteen or fifteen. Having a roommate his own age would be nice.

Wild wondered if the two of them would get along. It was always a hit or miss as to whether he would get along with his roommate, but as long as the boy didn’t try and kill Wild, then it would be fine. 

Eventually, the boy’s wails died down into uncontrollable hiccups. Soon even those faded, leaving just uneven breaths, and Wild realized that the boy had fallen asleep. Wild wasn't even sure if the boy knew there was someone else in the room. Probably not, or he wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep and leave himself so vulnerable to Wild. 

Not that Wild would hurt him! But the boy didn’t know that.

When the boy had been quiet for a few minutes, Wild hopped down from his bed, walking closer to get a better look. The boy was really a mess. His face was covered in tear tracks and snot. His shirt and shirts were dirt-stained and torn, and he wore no shoes, his feet calloused and muddy. A magic suppressant cuff was secured tightly around his ankle. The blue light that indicated the device was turned on was blinking steadily. 

Wild reached down to try to move the boy into a more comfortable position but hesitated. The dirt that covered the boy made Wild twitch and reconsider touching him. It wasn’t anything like the clean and sterile environment he’d been surrounded with for the last four years. He couldn’t figure out if he liked it or not. 

It didn’t matter either way. 

Tomorrow, the guards would come and get the boy and take him to the washroom to get clean. The boy would become just as sterile as everything else in here, whether the boy wanted to or not. The scientists didn't like it when the person they were studying was dirty, and they would no doubt want to take a look at the new addition as soon as possible. 

The ruined clothing would be replaced tomorrow too, and Wild hoped for the boy’s sake that the guards would give him some socks and shoes. The tile floor in their room got cold even in the summer.

Wild wondered if the boy was cold, laying on the tiles. He shuffled over to the bed opposite his- the one that this boy would be sleeping in from now on- and dragged the blanket off. With a flourish, he draped the blanket over the boy. 

The blanket was large enough that it seemed to swallow the boy whole. Or maybe the boy was just small.

Wild climbed back onto his bed and resumed his previous position, watching the boy with a burning curiosity. 

He wondered what his name was.

~~~

Even Hyrule and Wild sometimes grew tired of it all. They would grow bored of the constantly changing scenery and want to rest for a while. Whenever they felt the urge to stop and smell the roses for a while, they would find somewhere to settle for a while. They would find lodging with a family kind enough to open their home to them or work for their room and board. They would put away the Slate and, for the most part, stop using their magic.

They met people, made friends, formed bonds, and inevitably broke those bonds when they left.

They never knew how long they would stay. Sometimes it would be a month, sometimes as long as a year, but in the end, they always had to leave. They were driven ever onward, both by their own restlessness and the knowledge that they never truly belonged anywhere. They couldn’t look backward, couldn’t dwell on the past.

(They were both painfully aware of the irony of that statement. Time travelers who couldn’t afford to think about the past. What a joke.) 

Sometimes they did the familiar song and dance of telling people they were leaving. They would break the news to their new friends that they were leaving, and listen as they were begged to stay. 

Most of the time they tried to avoid that heartbreak. Most of the time they left silently in the middle of the night and left behind no hint that they ever existed. Maybe it was cruel to leave without a trace, and leave behind those who cared about them, but Hyrule and Wild had done this many, many times. It would always be difficult, no matter how they left. Leaving quietly spared them a bit of the pain, so they didn't have to see the pain their departure caused. 

Sometimes Wild wondered why they bothered interacting with other people at all. It would be easier if they didn’t. It would spare them the heartache. Yet somehow they ended up making connections again and again. Hyrule said that everyone, even traumatized time travelers, needed human contact. Wild personally thought that was bullshit.

(Yet, he never protested when they wandered into a town and decided to stay for a while. Because in the end, they were both lonely.)

Hyrule never forgot the names and faces of the people they’ve met. Before they started time traveling, it had been Wild who had the better memory regarding people, their names, and their faces. It wasn’t like that anymore. Now, it seemed things like that slipped out of his mind easily. 

Sometimes Wild asked Hyrule to tell him stories about the people they’d befriended. It was always a toss-up if the stories would end with them laughing and happily reminiscing, or sitting close together, drenching in misery as they ached for forgotten friendships.

It was difficult. Difficult to form connections knowing they would have to end, and difficult to break those connections when the time came. 

There were times when it became too much. Times when they wanted to stop for a little while, but didn’t want the burden of human connection. At those times, it was easier to find a nice, uninhabited forest to make their home for a few weeks. 

Having lived in the woods for a good part of his childhood, Hyrule was already more than comfortable doing that. Wild took a bit longer to adjust but once he did, he was as at home in the woods as Hyrule was. 

As long as it wasn’t the middle of winter- and it never was, for them- the woods offered them the perfect place to enjoy the freedom that came with being wanderers

~~~

Today had been a bad day so far, and Hyrule didn’t foresee it getting any better. 

He’d woken up sluggish, inexplicably tired despite the fact that he’d slept like a rock the night before. The rest of the morning hadn’t been much better, for no perceivable reason. Everything had proceeded like it always did in the mornings.

One at a time, the guards had escorted Hyrule and Wild to the washroom to shower and get ready for the day. Once they were both back in the room and dressed, Breakfast had been brought to them by the guards. 

They’d given pancakes with maple syrup and a side of fruit and a few slices of bacon for breakfast today. The pancakes and maple syrup usually would’ve excited Hyrule- he had an infamous sweet tooth- but today he could hardly muster up a smile at the sight of it. 

Wild noticed his lack of enthusiasm and sent him a concerned look, but Hyrule had shrugged it off and kept his gaze firmly on his plate for the rest of the meal. He didn’t want to worry Wild for no reason. He doubted he was actually sick, so there was no need to say anything and there was nothing Wild could do if he did.

After they ate, their plates and utensils had been taken away. Wild and Hyrule had more privileges than most mages in this research facility did. It was a perk that came with being two of the residents that had lived there the longest- eight years for Wild, and four years for Hyrule- but they still weren’t allowed to keep the dull plastic knives they were given to eat with. 

A shame. Hyrule would have loved to keep one of them tucked under his mattress with the rest of his contraband items, but the guards always double-checked that all of the utensils were returned after every meal. 

Then they were left alone for a half hour or so, as was usual. It was a tense period of time as they waited to see if the researchers had anything planned for them today, or if they got to spend their day inside their room, entertaining themselves. 

When the guards returned, Hyrule was the only one called out of the room. Wild was left sitting on his bed, face passive as he watched Hyrule leave. The only reason Hyrule could tell the other boy was both relieved he hadn’t been summoned and a little worried for Hyrule was because he’d known Wild for so long. 

Wild had a habit of going stone-faced whenever one of the guards or scientists were around. Hyrule couldn’t blame him for that. The two of them had already gotten enough of their privacy taken away from them. They didn’t need to give the scientists a front-row seat to their inner thoughts and feelings as well. 

Hyrule followed the guards at a sedate pace, not able to muster up the energy to move any faster. (He was careful not to move too slowly, though. He knew from experience that the guards wouldn’t hesitate to drag him if they felt he was moving slowly on purpose.) A familiar feeling of anxiety bubbled in his stomach. He wondered what he would be made to do today. Hopefully, it wouldn't be anything too strenuous. 

He was taken to one of the standard testing rooms. There were several of these rooms in the building, and Hyrule was well acquainted with all of them. They all looked the same, with white cinderblock walls, a concrete floor, and one wall being made entirely of a one-way window so the researchers could observe him. The only furnishings in the rooms were a table and chair off to one side which were bolted to the floor and a speaker tucked up in one of the corners of the ceiling. 

Hyrule, used to this routine after so many years, went and took a seat in the chair. As always, one of the researchers came to take his blood pressure and listen to his breathing. They did these sorts of physical exams before every test they performed on him, and it was so routine that Hyrule barely registered when it happened anymore. 

Soon, the researcher was done jotting things down on their clipboard and exited the room. Hyrule sighed and slumped in his seat a little. All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep. Maybe when he got back to their room, he could ask Wild to read aloud to him from the physics textbooks they’d been given. Learning about momentum and friction usually put Hyrule right to sleep, even if Wild loved it. (For some weird reason.)

That was the one upside of being a mage, Hyrule thought sarcastically as he stared dully at his reflection in the window across the room from him. Once the government found out you had magic, you never had to worry about school ever again. They were given textbooks and notebooks to keep themselves entertained when they weren’t needed for experiments, but they weren’t actually expected to know any of the material. Which was good, because Hyrule couldn’t imagine having to take exams on this stuff. He never managed to stay away for more than the first chapter of that stupid physics textbook-

A sudden noise crackled through the overhead speaker, startling Hyrule out of his thoughts. 

“Alright, Hyrule. We’re just going to be doing some energy tests today. Standard stuff, okay?” When he registered the voice and what it had said, he breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that voice, and he was glad that this scientist would be the one running his tests today. 

There was a constantly rotating staff of researchers that Wild and Hyrule interacted with on a near-daily basis, but there were three main scientists who seemed to be in charge of the facility. The one they saw the most often was a positively ancient man with a rather eccentric personality. Every time Hyrule saw the man, he grew more and more surprised that he hadn’t passed away from old age yet. The second was a severe-looking woman in her mid-forties who never spoke to them unless it was to give them an order. Both Wild and Hyrule agreed she was the worst to deal with.

The last, and the one who was apparently overseeing his tests today, was a young woman in her twenties that Hyrule suspected was an apprentice of sorts to the other two. (Probably a replacement for when the old man finally kicked the bucket, Hyrule thought snidely.) Hyrule didn’t know what her name was, though Wild probably did. He was always better at paying attention to and remembering details than Hyrule was. 

Everything about the third scientist was soft. From her voice, to her mannerisms, to the way she treated the two of them. Hyrule rarely got a chance to look at her- or any of the other scientists- but when he did, he thought that she even looked soft. She had a rounded face and softly curling white hair that fell to her shoulders. Her face was faintly familiar, and every time Hyrule looked at her, he was reminded of his mother. 

He hated her for that, a little bit.

“Hyrule? Are you ready?” Hyrule blinked, the woman’s voice startling him back to reality once again. He hadn’t given any form of acknowledgement to her previous statement, he realized. 

‘Yeah, I’m ready,“ he confirmed.

“Okay, great!” The bit of warmth in her voice made Hyrule want to melt into the floor. He pushed that urge away. “We’re going to bring in the first artifact now. I’ll run you through the procedure as always, but I know you’re a pro at this by now, so we should get done pretty quickly.” 

She was right- testing magical artifacts, figuring out what their purpose was, and trying to find a limit to their power was one of the most common things they had him and Wild do. It was usually an easy and painless job, as long as the magic cast on the objects was inherently harmful. (if it was- well, that was a different story.)

Hyrule turned his gaze toward the door. Like clockwork, a man wearing a hazmat suit wheeled in a cart with an ancient-looking wooden box sitting on it. That must be the first item he’d be working with today. Once the cart was in the middle of the room, the man approached him with a familiar device in his hands. Hyrule, still on autopilot, lifted his leg, allowing the man to wave the device over this magic suppression cuff, deactivating it. 

Instantly, Hyrule felt a wave of relief wash over him. His magic, which the cuff had been suppressing, swelled up within himself. When the cuff was active it squished his magic down. Hyrule could still feel it, but he couldn’t access it. 

Hyrule didn’t know how the cuffs worked. All he knew was that he hated everything about them. Being unable to access his magic was like one of his limbs had been paralyzed. He knew it was still there, but he wasn’t able to make it do anything. 

When the researcher was done turning off the cuff, he shuffled off to the side of the room. Hyrule knew he would wait until the tests were done, and then reactivate the cuff before Hyrule was let out of the room. The only door out of the room would remain locked until then.

Testing was the only time the suppression cuffs were turned off. They had to be deactivated to allow Wild and Hyrule to use their magic for the tests. The scientists were always careful to only turn the cuffs off when they were locked in a secure room with a locked door, and under constant scrutiny.

They were a little bit stupid, in Hyrule's opinion. It didn’t matter if he was in a locked room and under constant watch. When he had his magic, he could simply unlock the doors, or force the guards to turn their attention away from him. When he was finished with whatever he needed to do, he could walk right back to where he’d been before, and no one would be any wiser.

Honestly, given how adept both Wild and Hyrule had become at making themselves unnoticeable, it would be stupidly easy to get out of the facility, 

The only reason they stayed was the fact that they knew they’d gotten off easily. Some mages got shipped off to use their magic to fight in wars. The fact that the two of them were only in a research facility where they got three healthy meals a day and a comfortable place to sleep wasn't something to be overlooked. Hyrule knew they wouldn’t be as lucky if they tried to escape and got caught a second time.

They’d seen what happened to mages who managed to escape from research facilities and then were caught again, and it wasn’t pretty. What they needed was a guaranteed permanent ticket out of here. So far, they’d come up empty.

The overhead speaker crackled to life once again, the scientist speaking the first instructions, and Hyrule heaved himself to his feet.

Gods, he hoped the scientist was right, and they would be able to finish early today. 

He was so tired. 

~~~

When Wild and Hyrule stumbled across the Lon family’s house, they hadn’t been looking for civilization, and they certainly weren’t expecting civilization to find them, but that’s exactly what happened.

Neither of them realized their feet had found a well-worn path until they were stumbling out of the woods. The trees surrounding them slowly transitioned from naturally planted oaks and maples and pines to neat rows of apple and pear trees. The pair slowed as they walked through the orchard, confused. They knew there was a town within a day’s walk of here, but they hadn’t expected to find any civilization in this forest. 

Soon, the trees fell away, turning into a large field with a house and a barn tucked away near the edge of the woods. A garden filled to bursting with vegetables lay near the house, and a paddock with a few horses and goats stretched out as far as they could see into the field.

It was a large property and very well taken care of, especially for this time period. Wild and Hyrule exchanged glances, smiles creeping across their faces. 

“Hyrule, when was the last time we ate fresh pears?”

“Couldn't tell you.” Despite Hyrule’s short answer, they both knew what the other was thinking. The owners of the house wouldn’t miss two or three pears, especially if they didn’t see Hyrule and Wild take the fruit. No one was outside, and if they were quick they might be able to take some and leave before anyone came out of the house or barn.

In no time at all, Wild had climbed up into one of the pear trees and was tossing the fruit down to Hyrule. He had just thrown down the third one when a shout sounded from behind them.

“What the hell are you two doing?!” 

“Oh, shit!” Wild yelped, nearly falling out of the tree as he was startled. He managed to turn his fall into a somewhat controlled descent, landing awkwardly next to Hyrule, who’d already turned to face off with the person who had yelled. 

 A boy, maybe a few years older than them, was stomping across the field from the direction of the house. He had strawberry blonde hair and was wearing a red tunic, and he looked pissed.

Wild and Hyrule winced, glancing at each other. 

Busted.

“Those are my trees! The pears only just started to ripen, and you come in here and try to take advantage of my hard work? Oh, no, absolutely not.” As the boy stomped closer, his anger seemed to drain out of him. Wild could feel him examining the pair of them, and taking stock of their dirty appearances and slightly-too-thin bodies. By the time he had drawn to a stop in front of them, he seemed to have deflated. 

The teen didn’t look irritated anymore, but the pity in his eyes was almost worse. 

Hyrule and Wild liked their lifestyle, even if it maybe wasn't the best for them. It was better than the alternative. They might have gotten three square meals a day in the research facility, but they would take their freedom over that anytime, even if it meant going hungry occasionally. 

If anyone wanted to pity them over their appearance, their usual reaction was to leave. There was no reason to stick around where they would be drowning in that sticky sweet emotion known as pity. It wasn’t like anyone could stop them from leaving, anyway.

Then the stranger seemed to make up his mind, and the pity vanished from his face, being replaced by an expression of irritation. Wild couldn’t tell if the teen was actually irritated or if he was putting on a mask to hide his true emotions.

He didn't get the time to figure it out, because in no time at all Wild and Hyrule were on their knees in the garden, pulling weeds. Neither of them were quite sure how they got there. The stranger- apparently named Legend- had steamrolled any of their protests. He insisted they helped as a repayment for the pears they took. 

Since they had nothing better to do, they hadn’t protested too much. 

After they were done in the garden, Legend offered to let them clean up using his family's bath house. When they were hesitant, he insisted, saying that since they were only so dirty because he had them working in the garden all afternoon, he should let them bathe. 

When they’d finished and returned back to the house, there were steaming mugs of tea waiting for them. By the time they were finished with the tea, there was a pot of stew bubbling over the fire. Legend wordlessly shoved bowls of thick venison stew into their hands, refusing to meet their eyes.

Wild narrowed his eyes at the bowl suspiciously. Had it been drugged, or poisoned? Why was Legend being so weirdly nice to them and giving them food? There must be something wrong with the soup. Wild quickly flicked his magic out, testing the food, looking for anything wrong with the stew.

Just as quickly as he sent it out, his magic withdrew into his body and settled calmly within him, curling up contently. There was nothing wrong with the stew, so Wild reluctantly ate. It was a bit flavorless, but still filling.

He missed how Legend’s eyes narrowed in his direction for a moment when he had used his magic to test the soup.

After they had all finished dinner- awkwardly and in silence- it was already dark, and rain was pattering softly against the windows of the house. Neither Wild nor Hyrule made an effort to excuse themselves from Legend’s house, as neither of them were eager to go out in the rain. They would continue abusing Legend’s generosity for as long as he would let them. 

Surprisingly, Legend’s generosity extended further than expected. He offered them his family’s spare mattress, dragging it out from the storeroom and leaving it in the living room, close to the fire. He huffed a gruff goodnight and retreated to the second floor of the house. Wild got the impression that Legend half expected the pair of them to have left by the time morning came. 

The mattress was small. It clearly wasn't made for two people, but neither of them minded. They were clean, full, warm, and their magic was giving them no warnings of danger. They were more comfortable than they had been in a while, no matter how cramped the bed was. 

They were more than used to sleeping curled around each other anyway. 

Wild was ready to drift off to sleep like that, curled around Hyrule and warmed by the embers in the fireplace at his back. Hyrule seemed to have a different idea, though, his voice breaking Wild from the content haze that had settled over his mind.

“I think Legend is a mage.” 

That certainly caught Wild’s attention. Wild stiffened, anty semblance of sleep being yanked away from him. He hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. Was that why Legend was being so kind? Because he knew they had magic and he was trying to be kind to his fellow mages who looked down on their luck?

“Why would you think that?” He asked.

“I can just feel it. When he looks at us… It feels like he's actually seeing us. The real us. And he doesn't feel like a normal human. It’s not exactly the same as the other mages we’ve seen, but I’m pretty sure he has magic.”

Wild didn’t respond, and eventually, Hyrule drifted off to sleep. There really wasn’t anything more to say about that. Either Hyrule was right or he was wrong. Either Legend had magic or he didn’t. 

It didn’t really matter. The two of them would be gone soon, anyway. 

When they woke the next morning, they found Legend sitting at the table, waiting for them with another pot of tea. 

So they had breakfast with him and then helped him with chores around the house. The next thing they knew, Legend’s father and brothers (all five of them) had returned from whatever errand they had been running the previous day. They had been surprised to return home to find three people in the house when they were expecting only one, but it had all been smoothed over easily.

Before Wild and Hyrule knew it, they were being offered a place to stay. As long as they earned their keep, they could live with the Lon family as long as they wished. 

Hyrule was insistent they would be leaving soon, though Wild had his doubts. He didn’t say anything to Hyrule, but he knew how easily staying one day turned into staying two, then a week, and then a month, and then longer. He suspected they would be living with the Lons for much longer than planned.

So they did. A few weeks into their stay, they came back to the house to find their mattress moved into what had previously been a spare room. They had become a permanent fixture in the house now. Dread slowly crept through Wild when he realized that. 

The Lon family was kind. They got along well with Wild and Hyrule, even if there was more teasing exchanged than kind words. Now the Lon family thought that WIld and Hyrule were going to stay. 

And Wild knew they couldn't.

They could never stay anywhere.

But a few weeks turned into a month. Then a month turned into half a year, and the leaves had long since turned to bright golds and brilliant reds and then fallen from the trees, and there was a fire burning in the hearth more often than not.

Wild and Hyrule both knew they should leave and spare themselves the heartache of growing close to someone before eventually having to leave them. 

But they didn’t.

~~~

Wild let out a jaw-cracking yawn, tucking his head under Hyrule’s chin. The two of them were curled up together on Wild’s bed. It was a bit awkward to cuddle like this, given that Wild was half a foot taller than Hyrule, and the bed was made to only fit one person, but they made it work. 

The pair of them didn’t sleep in the same bed every night, but it wasn't unusual. For the most part, the only friendly physical contact they could expect to receive was from each other, and sometimes they needed more than a brief hug. Some nights, it was an overwhelming sense of loneliness that drove them together. Some nights, one of them would wake up shivering with fear from a nightmare, and crawl into the other’s bed.

And some nights, like tonight, one of them would come back from testing and be too tired to even support their own weight. 

Usually, it was Hyrule who was subjected to the more draining experiments. He was the more magically powerful of the two, after all. Recently, however, Wild has been receiving more attention from the scientists. 

It was leading to more situations like this, where Wild was left lying prone on his bed, barely able to muster the energy to speak. Just as Wild usually did for him, Hyrule gathered all the blankets and pillows from his bed and took them over to Hyrule’s. After he got Wild comfortably situated, he climbed into the bed after him.

It took nearly a half hour of laying in silence for Wild to gain the energy to speak. “They’re becoming more and more interested in my time magic. I think they’re starting a new project.” His voice was muffled, spoken into Hyrule’s shoulder.

“I’ll be honest, Wild, I really don’t care about what the scientists are working on.”

Wild huffed. Hyrule could see he was irritated. It made Hyrule curious- normally, Wild didn’t care anymore than he did about the experiments the researchers were doing. If he was trying to tell Hurue about them now, when he was obviously exhausted, it must be something important.

“I think they’re trying to figure-” Wild was interrupted by another large yawn. Hyrule was about to tell him that he could tell him tomorrow, but he needed to go to sleep now, but Wild finished before he could. “They’re trying to figure out time travel.“

Hyrule frowned. “That’s not possible. Magic can do a lot of stuff, but time travel? There’s no way…”

Wild shrugged. ‘I dunno. I can slow time down a little bit. It’s not out of the question that if we combined our magic, we could stop time for a little bit. And that’s pretty close to time travel.“

Wild fell asleep soon after that, but Hyrule was kept awake, ideas swirling through his head.

Time travel?

Hmmm….

~~~

There was no doubt in Wild or Hyrule’s minds that the Lon family was a coven. 

There was no other reason for seven mages to be living together, especially when most of them weren’t even related. (Everyone knew that Twilight was the only one of Time’s gaggle of children that was biologically his. Everyone knew that the man cared for them all equally anyways.)

Covens were groups of mages who had bound their magic together. The process of joining a coven made your magic more powerful. It came with the side effect of tying your soul permanently to your coven mates. If they died, it would feel like part of your soul was being torn out. But many found the risk was worth it for the increased power, and the promise of family. Because if nothing else, your coven was your family.

There weren’t any covens left in the time period the two had come from. After magic had been exposed to the world, and all mages were being hunted down to serve their governments, groups of mages congregating together became too dangerous.

The two had run into a few covens while they had been traveling. Some of the covens were generous to who they perceived as two covenless young mages with no guidance. Priceless knowledge could be learned from them. If Hyrule and Wild stuck-around long enough to be taught, that is.

Some covens were more secretive, barely acknowledging Hyrule and Wild also had magic. Neither of them could blame the covens that choose to disregard their shared magic. Even before magic had been revealed to the world, mages were secretive. (After seeing what happened when magic was finally revealed, Hyrule and Wild knew they were right to be.)

So, when the Lon family hadn't breathed a word about magic to them after they had been living there for six months, Hyrule and Wild knew better than to bring it up themselves. Both parties knew that the others were mages, but neither spoke of it. If the Lons didn’t want to bring up their magic, Wild and Hyrule certainly weren't going to do it either. 

Hyrule had been the first one to pick up on the fact that the family they were staying with was magical. He’d told Wild his suspicions the first night they’d stayed in the house. At the time, Wild hadn’t cared. But the longer the pair stayed with the family, the more convinced Wild became that Hyrule was right. 

There were the little things that were just unnatural enough to be noticed. The garden was too well kept for how little time the family spent tending to it. Somehow the flowers continued to bloom and the grass remained lush and green long after the autumn frost had started to set in. The food the family had available was too high quality for this time period, especially for people who lived in the woods with the nearest town being barely more than a village. Somehow the house was kept spotless, though neither of them ever saw anyone cleaning.

Then there were the bigger things. Hyrule had caught both Wind and Four having full conversations with no one, speaking into thin air as if they were talking with spirits. There was the strangely tame wolf who only seemed to turn up around the house when Twilight was gone. There was the chest full of enchanted masks that Time kept under his bed. 

There was all that- the big things, the little things, and all things in between- and then there was the fact that Wild was quite sure the family could see past their glamor magic. 

Normally, the magic they surrounded themselves with disguised both their clothes and their modern mannerisms. It translated their words into something understandable to those who were listening. 

Although the coven had welcomed Hyrule and Wild into their home, they’d stared for too long at the pair's strange outfits. Most people’s eyes usually slid off their modern clothing without even seeing it in the first place. It was the same with modern terms and slang words. When Wild had slipped up and mentioned “texting” to Wind, the boy should have heard “writing a letter,” or something similar. Based on Wind’s confused face and the conversation Wild later overheard where Wind asked Warriors what a “text message” was, that hadn’t happened.

It was plain to see that the coven could see straight through their magic, but it was also plain that the coven was ignoring it, purposefully not mentioning their strange behavior, clothing, and language.

There was no way their host family actually understood why Wild and Hyrule acted so strangely- time travel wasn’t the first thing that popped into people’s heads when they saw someone acting strangely, even if they did know about magic. It was more likely the family thought that they were foreigners, and were using their magic to try and hide that fact.

Still…

Through their silence, the family had made it clear that they knew about Wild and Hyrule’s magic. It also made it clear that they weren’t going to bring it up. 

And if they weren’t going to, then Wild and Hyrule wouldn’t either.

~~~

“Hyrule, I think the tests are getting worse.”

“...”

“See, this is what I mean. Half the time you return from testing, you’re unconscious. It makes me look weird, talking out loud to no one like this.”

“...”

“I don’t know how much longer either of us can live like this, Hyrule. You can barely stay awake in the evenings, and I… I can’t remember what I did yesterday. My memories just keep slipping away, and it gets worse every time I get taken for experimentation. We need to find a way we can get out of here. Permanently.”

“...”

~~~

There wasn’t a singular moment that made Wild decide enough was enough. It had been coming for a while, that creeping feeling of dread that told him they had to leave soon if they wanted to be able to leave at all. They’d already become attached to this family so if they didn’t leave soon, they would never leave.

He knew it would already hurt more to leave this family than any other. Wild would miss cuddling near the fire with Wolfie, would miss cooking dinner every night for more than two people, would miss the loud camaraderie and the quiet companionship he had found in this house. 

But they had to leave. They didn’t belong here. 

Wild had had enough. He was leaving. And where he went, Hyrule went. 

It was an early spring night, nearly nine months after they had arrived. The whole family was gathered in the main room of the house, each absorbed in their own tasks. Hyrule was curled next to Legend and nearly half asleep. Wild was sitting on the floor in front of the chair Time was sitting in. His legs stretched out in front of him to put his feet near the warmth of the hearth, and Wild would almost say he was content, except for the little fact that he knew this peace couldn’t last.

He could tell Hyrule wasn’t happy when Wild shot him that look. The look that said, “I’m done, I can't do this anymore, We have to go.” Hyrule glared back at Wild and then closed his eyes, ignoring Wild on purpose. 

Looks like they would be talking about it later, then. (Not that they could talk about it now, given that they were in a room with seven other people.) Wild leaned back against Time’s legs. He looked nonchalant, as if the exchange the two had didn’t happen, but there was tension in him now, because now he knew they were on their way out of this house and the lives of its inhabitants.

It turns out “later” means that very night, after everyone else had gone to bed.

Hyrule might have been acting like he was unhappy with Wild’s decision, but he knew just as well as Wild did that it was time to leave. They barely had to exchange words before they were both packing up the belongings they were going to take with them. 

They left behind most of the things they had gained while they were staying here. They wouldn’t need most of it, and they didn’t want to steal from the Lon family. They had been so kind to them, they didn’t deserve to have the two of them steal from them. 

Soon, everything they were going to take with them was packed up. They stood shoulder to shoulder in their room, looking down at the bed they’d been sharing for the last nine months.

Eventually, Hyrule turned to Wild. “Ready?‘ he whispered.

“Yes,” Wild lied. Neither of them moved for quite some time, neither wanting to make the first move to leave.

This time, it was Wild who broke the silence. He shuffled over to their mattress, lifting it up and pulling the Slate out from under it. They hadn’t needed it while they’d been staying here, but now they had a use for it again. “Do you think we’ll ever find a place we’ll want to stay forever?”

“I doubt it. If that was going to happen, it would have happened already.” Hyrule murmured back to him, not meeting his eyes.

“You’re probably right.” Wild flicked the Slate in the direction of their belonging, sucking them into the Slate to be safely stored away until they needed them again. 

With that, they turned to each other, instinctually getting into position to cast their spell. Wild could see Hyrule’s grip on the Slate was so tight his knuckles were bone-white. He didn’t look up, knowing if he did, he would see tears trickling down Hyrule’s face. 

“Now,” he whispered.

In a shower of blue sparks, the two disappeared, gone from the lives of the Lon coven forever. 

[insertcoolusernamehereee]

The Wayne Family is a mess

Dick:-

Parental figure is Bruce, but calls Clark ‘dad’ sometimes just piss Bruce off <3 (Ignore Gotham War, Ignore Gotham War)

Favourite sibling is he doesn’t have one :3. Okay, he likes Jason a teeny bit more, but he’s pretty fair to all of them.

He sees Damian as his son, but they both refuse to acknowledge it completely. They’re comfortable with how they are now.

He is SO older sister coded. Feels like he is responsible for everyone, and tries to hide when he’s mad/sad, but most of the time his siblings force him to tell them how he’s feeling.

Him and Cass CONSTANTLY exchange ‘I swear to god, these losers’ looks when everyone is fighting/doing something stupid.

While his favourite is Jason, and views Damian as a son, he spoils Tim and Duke HORRENDOUSLY.

Him and Steph gossip about different celebrities 24/7

Is currently dating Babs :3

Him and Selina have more ‘friendsies’ relationship, than mom-son type relationship. When one of them get into a argument with Bruce they start slandering him SO BADLY.

Jason:-

I can hear you guys from on the other side of my screen, but him and Bruce are not on Father-Son relationship stance right now. Bruce sees him as a son, but he doesn’t view him as a father (anymore). But he can talk to him without fighting now. (Ignore Gotham War, Ignore Gotham War)

Favourite siblings are Duke, Cass and Tim. Because yes. He makes it obvious too lol.

Dislikes Damian, but helps him get away with shit just to give Bruce grey hairs.

Jason ‘I hate modern technology’ Todd

Him and Dick teaming up give people HEADACHES. If Bruce/Alfred want to scold them, they MUST be separated.

Stephanie and him are besties and bully Tim mercilessly, since he luvs to steal everyone’s friends. (Damian ur next)

He gets Alfred presents on both Father’s Day and Grandfathers day, and everything in between.

Spoils Cass tbh. It’s all with Bruce’s card, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them :D

He is constantly like ‘Selina u can do SO much better’ but he does like her. Just not as strong of a relationship.

Cass:-

100% Views Bruce as a father figure. Hates David Cain, and just does not care about Lady Shiva.

Favourite sibling is Tim, and is best friends with Stephanie.

People constantly think that Damian and her are biological siblings, so when they ask, she looks them dead in the eyes and tells them ‘He’s my dad’. It gets the reporters confused every time.

Obnoxiously acts like a little Angel, but everyone knows she’s not. “Cass. We all know you crashed the Batmobile. No, you smiling will not change my mind. Yes, your smile is very pretty, BUT STILL.”

Her and Dick are forced to be the responsible ones when everyone is hanging out. With Cass in charge of Dick, and Dick in charge of Cass. It oddly works out.

Loves spoiling Damian, it’s getting concerning. In turn, Damian’s pets love her.

Stephanie spills tea about EVERYONE to her. Even about her classmates, who Cass has never even met. Fake dating Steph as well so that nobody tries to flirt with her during galas, and to explain why Steph is so close with the family.

Babs is a major role model in her life. When Cass needs advice, Babs is the first number on her phone.

She loves Selina. But sometimes doesn’t trust her. Otherwise, she approves of Batcat :) Not that strong of a mother-daughter relationship, but she buys Selina a gift for Mother’s Day, just because she can.

Tim:-

Yes, he does view Bruce as a father figure. He also still views Jack as a father figure but he’s dead now <333 As for Janet…she’s a complicated situation.

Favourite siblings are Dick and Cass. He’s besties with Stephanie, basically tells her almost everything.

Both him and Damian are petty, so they trade insults a lot, but it’s more bantering than fighting lol. They do go out to places together, but they are always acting like they are forced to, or that they would be anywhere else (even though they like hanging with each other)

He will not stop with the ‘middle child’ jokes. He will purposefully make Bruce ignore him just so he give a long monologue about being the middle child. He will then ask Bruce to give Damian up for adoption to redeem himself. Damian is still here :D

Cass is Tim’s wingman. (Which is why it took so long for TimKon/Timber to get together)

Tim gives the best Christmas gifts, followed by Damian. This is mostly because he’s a STALKER.

He likes Babs a lot, but acts like a CHILD, because she’s better at hacking than he his and therefore she stops him from doing a few things. He threw a tantrum once when she activated CHILD-LOCK on his computer.

He adores Selina. Sometimes suspicious of her, but mostly trusts her. Selina spoils him, Duke and Damian to no limits.

Stephanie:-

Bruce is NOT her parent figure, but she still views his kids as her siblings. Crystal is her mom, she does not consider Arthur her dad.

Favourite siblings are Damian and Tim, Cass and Jason are her besties.

When Jason is mad at the family and going someplace without telling them, he only tells Steph where he is going.

Once, Tim asked how they were her siblings when Bruce or Selina aren’t her parents, so she declared that Talia was her other mom, and made weird stories connecting each of them :D

Cass knows ALL of Steph secrets, because Steph keeps venting to her 24/7.

When Tim and her are together, they start collectively working on a singular brain cell, making the other person next to them having to be the responsible one. On one memorable occasion, it turned out to be Damian.

Stephanie, Dick and Tim love stalking there siblings when they get a date. Just for fun <333. Stephanie and Dick however are the quote on quote ‘embarrassing parents’ energy when it comes to dates. (Tim and Duke are pretty chill when it comes to dates, Bruce, Damian and Jason are the ones who do the shovel talk, and Cass is just staring at you menacingly during the first family dinner.)

Stephanie and Duke are the ones who sneak off to do underage drinking. Tim and Jason are the ones trying to stop them LMAO.

Stephanie likes Selina a lot. She is constantly pestering her to let her see Harley and Poison Ivy. Selina let her one time, and they caused SO MUCH chaos. (Steph is Selina’s second favourite)

Duke:-

He doesn’t see Bruce as a father figure fully yet, but he does love him. He still considers his parents (minus the weird god dad) as his parents.

Favourite siblings are Damian and Jason. Because, in Tim’s words, he’s weird like that. Him and Damian go to movies every month, and we’re especially excited for the FNAF movie. (They LOVE FNAF.)

Duke is also super younger-sibling coded. If everyone gets super defensive of Damian, then he’s the one who can say ANYTHING and get away with it. As a joke, Jason starts referring to him and Damian as twins because when people ask who they’re ‘youngest sibling’ is, everyone keeps alternating between Duke and Damian.

At first he was downright TERRIFIED of Cass. Like he was scared to be in the same room as her. Now they team up to scare everyone else. (Duke is just recording, Cass does the scaring)

Damian only does ‘puppy eyes’ VERY rarely, and it works effectively every time. Duke? He does it for Every. Little. Thing. And most of the time? He gets it. Tim and Cass are the only one who can resist it. Sometimes.

Dick is Dukes idol. He wants to be like Dick in the future :3

Jason and Duke call each other ‘narrows’ and ‘alley’ respectively. Duke also does a lot of shit, just Bruce never finds out because nobody tells on him, so Jason is JELLY of that.

Stephanie and Duke have the most similar taste in food out of everyone else. VERY, VERY sugary. Nobody listens to them when they suggest to eat something. It’s too sugary.

Selina acts like Duke is her biological son as a joke to the press. The press still thinks it’s true. It’s downright hilarious.

Damian:-

Parental figures are Bruce and Dick, though they don’t acknowledge it :) (Ignore Gotham War, Ignore Gotham War) The relationship with Talia…is messy, to say the least.

Favourite siblings are Stephanie and Duke (because obviously???) They use there gremlin nature to a MAX to prank everyone else.

He is the most younger sibling coded person ever. He’s a little gremlin-demon, but if you mess with him, you’re messing with ALL OF THEM.

Upset that Tim and Stephanie broke up, and started shipping Steph and Cass (for shit and giggles, they are the type of besties who act like there in a relationship, and Damian knows this) and constantly asks Cass when she’s proposing so that Steph can be his sister legally as well <33

Constantly bantering with Tim, but they love each other. They just have weird ways of showing it :3

Dislike-Dislike relationship with Jason, but can and will team up with each other to ruin everyone’s day. They also don’t want each other dead ig :)

Only accepts Babs as Dicks girlfriend. No in between. But he will respect Kori. Begrudgingly.

Respects Jim Gordon so much lmaooo.

Has learned the Alfred eyebrow raise. He is now tormenting everyone with it.

Selina is Bruce’s fiancé, but they have a ‘chaotic aunt, and chaotic nephew’ type of bond. Damian is 100% Selina’s fav.

————————————————————

Add your own ideas in Reblogs/Comments!

[therainbowwillow]

EPIC / Odyssey / Aeneid crossover plot that has been bouncing around in my head for like a week:

So I really want an AU crossover of the Odyssey (with Epic canon mixed in) and the Aeneid in which Aeneas actually catches up to Odysseus by mistake rather than just trailing him endlessly as they both wander around the Aegean and they’re forced to get along to escape some Peril™️.

The way I’ve currently got this mapped out is that Odysseus fails to throw baby Astyanax off the walls of Troy despite the prophecy that he’ll grow up to (apparently…) ruin Odysseus’s life (AU-ing Epic canon). Somehow, they both manage to survive up through arriving on Calypso’s island (except I cannot conceive of a way in which the only person who survives out of Odysseus’s entire capable, adult crew is a three-year-old, so I guess this is also a Some People Live AU.) Anyway, they get there, Calypso’s got them trapped, it’s been a number of years, maybe there’s some horny crew member who spares Odysseus from Calypso’s advances by having *consensual* relations with her, etc.

Meanwhile, Aeneas has also been wandering around (in search of future-Rome) but as in the Aeneid, he’s taking forever because the gods are kind of unclear with their initial instructions (and also he keeps getting distracted… cough cough Dido). Hera, still needlessly furious with Aeneas for the crime of being Trojan, gets him blown off course again, except this time, he and his whole fleet wind up on Calypso’s island, the “no one leaves, no one comes” rule only broken because it was divine intervention that got him there in the first place. Initially, he’s ready to throw hands with Odysseus (and what remains of his crew), but Astyanax who is like 9 or 10 by this point and is aware of his Trojan heritage (the gods *did* say they’d make it known either way—Odysseus tells him to spare him the pain) figures out what’s going on and gets them to stand down, mostly just because all the Trojan survivors are so stunned that he’s still alive, apparently being treated well, and really does look a whole lot like Hektor that they give up on fighting for a moment. Odysseus and Aeneas forget the spears and have a brief yelling match in which Odysseus is accused of kidnapping and defends himself by begrudgingly telling Aeneas about the prophecy, which earns him some respect from the Trojans. It takes courage (and maybe some stupidity) to take the risk Odysseus is taking.

Aeneas (& crew) being stuck in the island with Odysseus (& crew) doesn’t really make anything all that much better for anyone because they’re still very much stuck on an island. Astyanax befriends Aeneas’s son Iulius (who is a few years older than he is) and learns a little more about Troy and his own biological parents. Calypso is very pleased that she has more boy toys than ever (and also hot women I guess because Aeneas’ crew isn’t all male—they’ve also canonically got female Trojan refugees with them, although a bunch of the ladies do decide to stay behind on an earlier stop on the journey).

Athena still hasn’t made contact with Odysseus for like 9 years, but has started helping Telemachus ward off the suitors. I think I’d probably give Telemachus a mix of his Epic & Odyssey characterizations: he’s very concerned about protecting his mom but also kind of weird & angsty about his dad, who he sort of believes is dead but can’t quite commit to that belief. Athena starts feeling kind of bad about not doing anything to bring Odysseus home (because even if he is a hubristic dumbass sometimes, Telemachus deserves to get to know his dad!)

Meanwhile, Aeneas’s divine patron (and mother) Aphrodite does *not* suddenly abandon him (even though their relationship is consistently kind of weird). She shows up, learns that her son (and also a whole bunch of Greeks??) are stuck on an island, and discovers that Calypso is very resistant to the idea of letting them go. While she tries to work out a way to get her kid out of Calypso’s clutches, she also starts to feel a little bad for Odysseus who may be the lying bastard who sacked Troy but is also stunningly loyal to his loved ones and as the goddess of love, she’s gotta respect that.

And so begins the unexpected friendship (maybe more like business partnership…) of the century! Aphrodite and Athena (who finally goes to check on her ex-friend) take inspiration from their favorite mortals and strike up a truce. With some shenanigans (specifics unclear), they manage to get everybody off the island.

Aeneas agrees to follow Odysseus to Ithaca because his fleet will need to restock to continue their wandering towards future-Rome (and also because even though Odysseus is the lying bastard who sacked Troy AND got Aeneas’s wife killed, he’s been good to Astyanax and having known the kid’s biological father personally, Aeneas thinks Hektor would want him to repay the good deed somehow.

There are probably some shenanigans in here about the fact that now that they’re traveling together, they have to deal with the wrath of Poseidon (incurred by Odysseus) AND the wrath of Hera (“incurred” by Aeneas) on their way to Ithaca. They make it (perhaps down a few more crew members) after making a brief stop in Phaiakia.

There’s no disguising the landing an entire fleet of ships on Ithaca, so while Odysseus would’ve liked to have some tact while dealing with the suitors (who Athena and probably also Aphrodite have informed him of), there isn’t much hope of attempting to sneak around… it’s just all out war.

I’m not entirely sure what I’d do about the (Epic canon) Astyanax prophecy, but here’s what I’ve got: Astyanax (and Iulius?) are left behind on the ships for their own safety while the suitors are slaughtered but manage to sneak off to try to help. Neither one of them is familiar with the palace, so Astyanax is carrying a torch to navigate the halls (in which Odysseus has extinguished all the existing torches to catch the suitors by surprise). They only manage to get inside and get their bearings by the very end of the fight. They’re attacked by the final remaining suitor, some guy who managed to escape the initial attack. Terrified and furious, Astyanax drops his torch and draws a sword he stole from the ship. He manages to kill the bastard using the fighting skills Odysseus taught him in their mostly for fun ‘family bonding activity’ sparring matches while they were stuck on the island. The dropped torch starts a fire which burns up a small portion of the throne room—including the throne itself—before one of the adult combatants swoops in to put it out.

So… “[Astyanax] will grow from a boy to an avenger” is true because he avenges his adoptive father’s honor by killing one of the suitors (the prophecy never says *who* he has to avenge). He’s “fumed by rage” at what he’s overheard of Odysseus talking about the suitors. He burns Odysseus’ house and throne, albeit by accident. And the biggest stretch… leaves Odysseus with no one left to save because by killing the final suitor, he takes the final action toward “saving” Penelope and Telemachus before Odysseus can. I’m not sure what to do with the saying goodbye to Penelope and Telemachus bit though. Perhaps in this AU, refusing to obey the gods’ order to kill Astyanax is at least partially behind Odysseus winding up stuck at sea for ten years so he has to “say goodbye” to them—at least for a while—“because of” Astyanax? Odysseus still gets to choose whose blood is on his hands: the suitors’. (If anybody has better ideas for thwarting the prophecy… do tell.)

(Also! I think Tiresias would rehash the Astyanax prophecy to Odysseus in equally vague terms. Something about the palace on fire and a boy come to fulfill his gods-given fate? I see your palace, flickering with flames…)

Anyway, Odysseus & family get their happily ever after (except Odysseus has a lot more explaining to do—gotta explain to his wife how he picked up an extra son along the way while remaining loyal and why half the survivors of the opposing force from the war that separated them in the first place are now staying in their home for a few days. And why the throne room is in desperate need of repair due to fire damage…)

Aeneas & crew eventually find future-Rome (and since they’ve struck up a semi-friendship with war goddess Athena, the war against Turnus & gang winds up being a lot easier. Maybe Pallas gets to not die tragically and Aeneas actually manages to fulfill the “sparing the conquered” bit of Roman Mission as it was laid out to him in the underworld by not murdering the defeated Turnus in cold blood!)

There you go, Homer and Vergil (and Jorge). Now (almost) everybody gets to be happy! Yay!

[tortured-poet-444]

YES ITS OKAY TO PUNCH NAZIS

Never thought it’d happen but now look where we are. We’d rather have a rapist than a woman in power.

God I hate America

The news is going to try to cover up the fucking trainwreck that happened today, so I suggest saving that photo and writing this down so we can remember, that is if this world isn’t destroyed before we forget.

Also sorry this isn't my usual content, but I'm not really sorry I can't post cutesy coquette posts right now when we will be living the the handmaid's tale in a few months.

Donald Trump, who is warshiped by Christians for being the Christian candidate and who said (today) that he was saved by god on the day of his attempted assassination, would not TOUCH the Bible while being sworn in. I want anyone who voted for him to stop and think what you would say if Kamala did that.

He said that the golden age has begun and he will lead a presidency led by compassion. Where's your compassion for the women you brag about r*ping huh?

He's going to change the name of the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America. Wait until he finds about about New Mexico.

He is going to take back the Panama canal because the US gave it to Panama and now China has control of it and he will do “whatever it takes to get it back”

He said Americans will assume a manifest destiny and explore mars. (Because it was so good the first time around) (I’m writing this with a sarcastic tone btw) I wonder how Elon Musk feels about this…

He's going to instate tariffs and taxes on other countries. Oh you thought Starbucks was expensive now? Say hello to 30$ coffees!!!

He said that there are only two genders. This statement never fails to make me laugh (although it scares me coming out of the mouth of the person who supposedly has the most power in our country), because there is a third biological sex. This is called “intersex.” I'm not going to explain it here, you can look it up. Often intersex people get surgeries to fit better into one of the two more recognised genders. However, if gender affirming care will be banned and people can not change their gender, there will continue to be three genders. They are talking themselves in circles of idiocracy.

Not related to the events of today, TikTok has been unbanned, and as popups on the app continue to remind us, this is thanks to “President Trump” Nevermjnd that he is the reason why it was banned in the first place. Since then, when you type “Gay Rights” into the search bar, it is not a suggestion, but rather “Gar Rights” “Smallest man who ever lived” by Taylor Swift, which has been used to talk about Donald Trump, comes up as “Smallest woman who ever lived” And when you hashtag a post “fuck” no problem it comes up as a suggestion. When you go to hashtag a post “fuckbiden” it is still a suggestion. But when you hashtag a post “fucktrump” nothing comes up.

Welcome to America everyone

Update:

They’re trying to erase the the constitution. Get a physical copy asap nothing online is safe.

[ask-dead-odysseus]

Ask little ol’ dead Odysseus!

•——————————————————————————•

“I’m the reigning king of Ithaca. I am neither man nor mythical. I am your darkest moment, I am the infamous: Odysseus!”

•——————————————————————————•

Mod talking here! i’m @yoshentrue (hope that AT works) this blog is based off of my personal gods story where thing like the odyssey happened in at least one world, so basically my personal story’s version of the odyssey. btw i’m a Epic the musical fan. other blogs like this (and a friend’s rp blog) inspired be to do this. i hope you people like this! this is my first time doing stuff like this, so please be patient with me



Basic boundaries:

• if you are transphobic, homophobic, racist, ext: get out no one wants you here, including me. GET THE F OUT NOW!

• i would prefer if you don’t asks big questions about my version world building if its not relevant. Questions that could be relevant can be asked though. If you know they’re not relevant, in any way then I would prefer if you don’t ask them, but if there’s a small chance, they could be relevant go ahead and ask if you want

• I would also prefer if you don’t say anything that could be seen a sexual. I am fairly uncomfortable with anything that is sexual and if you do, I will either not respond to you or block you depending on how much you do it

• cursed+blessing is allowed as long as it’s not too crazy 

•——————————————————————————•

Expo

after life:

Odysseus is well dead. dead for around 3,100 years (alive during the 11th Century BCE) he died in his 50’s from his first son playing with a venomous stingray spine. he spent 100 years of his afterlife in basically hell, just in a very grayscale place. once those years were done, he ended up going somewhere called the resting place a place with muted colors, calm waters and just overall peace between fellow dead people. he ended up reconnecting with “Athena” (this Athena’s used name is Striker, she is really the god of war) and is now their top soldier in the afterlife’s army. he has been reconnected with his family and his his friends. They all had time before him to get used to well, we would consider modern appliances (but to them were otherworldly) Odysseus didn’t so he had to be slowly introduced to everything over time so if he didn’t die again (metaphorically die again). he both misses and is happy the old days are over. he is very aware of what is happening in modern day because this is him dead but in modern day.

alive:

Most of the events from the Iliad and the Odyssey still happen with some changes.

Over all differences:

1) Odysseus adopted Astyanax and told him at age 7 the history of his lineage, obviously a seven-year-old wouldn’t be completely fine with finding out his father murdered his biological parents and people, but after a year or so he ended up coming down and they’ve had a very good relationship ever since. 2) Odysseus killed Poseidon who really was just a demigod parading around as if he was really a god luckily good all human with the right tools can knock a demigod down a peg to death. 3) Odysseus an Penelope aren’t cousin anymore. 4) at the time this asks takes place Odysseus knows that most of the gods see grew up, believing in or demigods and are no longer roaming around if that’s them completely retiring or through more gruesome means. Not all though some were gods of some kind just a little different (IE: Athena, Hermes, Hephaestus, Aeolus, Aphrodite, Ares, Artemis, Phanes, Thanatos. That’s all I can think of right now).

•——————————————————————————•

that’s all for now. Hope you enjoy this. Probably will be updated over time but until then, please just have fun and be respectful. hope i # this good

[onegianthotmess]

Meet Divian Vanrouge, maiden name Eva! She’s a 1,200 year old shapeshifter with no memory of any kind of parents or siblings of her own and she’s Lilia’s wife of nearly one hundred years!

First, a little bit about shapeshifters before we get into Divian herself!!! Shapeshifters are an elusive species that are biologically distant cousins of the fae in Twisted-Wonderland and share a few attributes with them, like pointed ears, though smaller than fae ears, long lifespans, and incredible magic ability.

But, shapeshifters do tend to live for much longer than fae, especially if they have no partner or mate of their own because shapeshifters tend to mate for life, though cheating and/or finding a different partner are both unlikely to happen yet entirely possible to occur. Shapeshifters can preform a ritual that binds their life to their mate’s, dictating that they will live so long as their mate lives and will die once their mate dies. This ritual also applies to the life of the partner if they are not of the same species.

Though shapeshifters can shift to look like other people, they most commonly shift into animal forms and their true forms are tied to a specific species of animal that they form a spiritual bond with at birth, some examples being sheep or bears. Because of this spiritual bond, their natural and animal forms will always retain an aspect of their spirit animal.

Now, onto Divian! Divian is incredibly friendly and takes on a very motherly role for most people she meets. Given that she helped raise Malleus, Mealodie, and Silver, Divian often finds herself slipping into her maternal mindset often and she will give students candy or speak to them in a parental way, much like Lilia finds himself doing. And she is usually the one to cook and bake while Lilia cleans, given that the former General is a god-awful cook.

Having lived over a thousand years, Divian finds that insecurities are hard to come by and she’s quite confident in herself and wants to see those she cares about be confident as well. She’s also very emotionally supportive and good at comforting people, often times baking or cooking for someone to help them feel better as they rant to her since food is one of her love languages and a small way for her to show that she cares.

Divian is also quite a good singer, given that her spirit animal is a bird. Though, she has made birds explode with how beautifully she sings. She also has large wings that are fluffy and warm, but she prefers to keep them hidden these days because it’s easier to get around in a school and they’re a nice thing to keep hidden so she can get out of things in a pinch.

She will also freak out and cry if Mealodie, Malleus, Silver, or Sebek go anywhere without telling her or Lilia or if Lilia doesn’t know where they went. Divian is maternal by nature and needs to know where her babies are to feel content. If she asks people where they are and they tell her, she’ll be okay. But if Lilia or anyone doesn’t know where they are, Divian will be on the edge of hyperventilation and hysterical sobs while Lilia tries to calm her down while he himself is also freaking out-

Divian will also not be afraid of any physical altercation if anything is said about her husband or adopted children. Much like Lilia, she is not afraid of asking someone to hold her earrings while she beats the shit out of someone if they said something about her babies or man. Think kickass southern mama bear who both endears and scares everyone around her. That’s Divian’s parenting in a nutshell.

Though she’s often a fretting mother hen crossed with a bloodthirsty mama bear, Divian is very friendly and loving to those she cares about.

Also, Divian loves to dance as she believes it’s what free people with free souls do.

She actually didn’t dance for hundreds of years after Lilia died in his first life. And when Divian met Lilia in his second life as General Vanrouge, she still refused to dance because she believed he’d be better off without her dancing with him because the last time she loved him, he was murdered the night before their wedding by a disapproving villager who believed Divian was a demon and that he was going to hell for being a demon’s lover. But now Divian dances with Lilia as often as she can because she knows that their love can be free after hundreds of years of loneliness and waiting and pining.

Divian actually has a portrait of her with Lilia from his first life as a magicless human before they were to be married. After his death, Divian couldn’t bear to part with it since she wanted to remember her love’s face, so she’s been preserving it with magic for centuries and would sometimes spend days looking at it and talking to it during those years when she was living all by herself in the forest.

And now I’m gonna end here before I spill all of Divian and Lilia’s story because it’s honestly one of my favorite ships I’ve ever made a story for! So enjoy her in all of her glory!!!

[weirdestbooks]

Wrong Reflection Chapter 10

The Family Tree is Still Terrible (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Alfred would have to be blind not to notice how nervous Sam would get at times, how awkward he seemed around the other nations. Although Sam and Alfred were counterparts, they were different enough that it was easy to see the other as a different person. It was clear Sam was struggling to maintain that same separation with everyone else.

Especially with Matthew. While Alfred knew that Sam and his Canada weren’t twins and that they weren’t going to be close, the distance he kept from Matthew and the fact that he seemed to adopt a frostier, more professional personality around Matthew was…odd. 

Sam had dropped some of it since he and Matthew actually started talking, but some of the alters, like James, were outright hostile to Matthew. It was confusing.

Alfred wished that Sam would just explain things to them, but he never did. He avoided the subject and danced around saying anything, leaving Alfred more confused than he was before. Alfred wasn’t sure bringing in more countries was the right move, but Francis insisted on coming as soon as his schedule cleared up.

Alfred hoped Francis wouldn’t be too much for Sam. He didn’t seem shy but rather quickly overwhelmed, and Francis could be a lot to handle sometimes. However, Sam didn’t seem bothered by Francis.

“Yeah,” Sam said, looking Francis up and down, “You’re a lot like my France. I’ll let you know soon whether we think that’s a good thing or not.”

Alfred did his best to hide a snicker at the comment, as Arthur barely managed to disguise his laughter at Sam’s comment.

“Thank you? Is Arthur like your England?” Francis asked. Sam snorted.

“Far from it,” he said, “What’s your relationship with Arthur?”

“I don’t like that you’re asking that,” Arthur said, looking concerned. Alfred exchanged an amused look with Matthew, who looked like he was barely holding back laughter.

“We’re dating,” Francis said, striding over to put an arm over Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur was quick to push it off, looking very annoyed.

“We’re not.”

“Please tell me you’re asking that because your England and France are dating,” Allistor said, causing Arthur to flip him off.

“England is not dating anyone, as far as I’m aware. I know he had something with Portugal, but I honestly have no idea how much of that was like, love and how much of it was ‘let’s make us look like we have a good alliance,’” Sam answered with a shrug, “Now Britain on the other hand…”

“Oh god,” Arthur muttered.

“I think they’re just fucking and not actually dating. But I have no idea. They’re both weird. I’m AroAce anyway, don’t go to me for romance advice or if people are dating,” Sam said.

“Oh, you’re AroAce?” Alfred asked, ignoring how Arthur was contemplating giving up on life as Allistor was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. 

“Yeah, are you not?” Sam asked. Alfred shook his head, and Sam replied with a thumbs-up before turning back to face Arthur, who was now sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. “You good?”

“I wish I didn’t have to know that,” Arthur said, sounding very, very tired. Sam shrugged.

“It’s far from the worst thing about them. I think…they have at least one child together. Probably more, but I’m not in charge of keeping track of my half-siblings, so I have no idea how many,” Sam said. Alfred winced at the thought as Arthur groaned loudly.

“Well, they were fucking,” Alfred deadpanned, turning to Francis, who was scarily silent. The man looked incredibly caught off guard, mouth opening and closing as he presumably tried to think of a response to that information.

“Sex isn’t required to have kids. It’s just a person being involved in the creation of something. So someone having three biological parents isn’t impossible,” Sam said before frowning, “If sex were required, I would have way less kids than I do.”

“Every single time I learn something new about this family tree…I…this is horrible. How do you live with this information?” Arthur asked, picking himself off of the floor.

“Britain’s family tree is a nightmare, but not even the worst one. I still shudder when I think about how Tonga and Hawaiʻi explained the Oceania family tree to me,” Sam answered with a slight grin, the only hint that he was getting any sort of amusement out of the situation.

“Everything you tell me about your world makes me more apprehensive about sending you back there,” Allistor said, a joking tone in his voice. Sam’s eyes narrowed before a smirk flickered across his face.

“Please, everything I’ve told you is tame compared to some of the shit that goes down there. And to me, your world is the weird one,” Sam said before gesturing to Matthew, “I mean, I cannot imagine my Canada lugging around a polar bear cub. He’s not exactly a nurturing person, and I wouldn’t trust him with any pets. No offense, Matthew. My Canada’s just a bit of a dick.”

“Well, my Mathieu is nothing like that,” Francis said, having recovered from his shock and walking over to Matthew to pull him into a hug. Matthew blushed, looking down at his feet, seemingly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I could tell that. It’s still…strange. Some of you are way too nice to be the counterpart of the countries that I know,” Sam said. Alfred felt annoyance bubble up within him at that. He took a breath to calm himself. Sam deserved his privacy, but Alfred really wished that he could just be clear about who he meant.

It was probably worse for Arthur and his brothers, who had to listen to vague references about how their counterparts might be shitty people and have to sit and wonder if it was their counterpart that was like that or someone else’s.

“Well, I think that I am the superior between myself and my counterpart,” Francis said. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Of course you do, you self-obsessed frog,” Arthur said. Francis opened his mouth to argue, and Alfred sighed, preparing himself for one of their infamous arguments. 

“Okay, I am stopping this fight before it begins. We do not need that right now,” Allistor said before moving to stand in between Francis and Arthur.

“Yeah, speaking of which, how many more countries are you planning on inviting here? It’s not exactly a big house,” Sam asked. Alfred frowned. Sam had a good point. More and more countries were going to find out about him and want to meet him (and interrogate him about their own counterparts as well), and Arthur would not like his home being crashed by dozens of nations wishing to meet Sam.

“What about a world meeting?” Matthew suggested. Without missing a beat or even asking what that was, Sam replied. 

“Sounds horrific and stressful, I’m in.” His response got a startled laugh from Allistor, who smiled slightly.

“Are you okay with that?” Alfred asked. Sam nodded.

“It’s the easiest way to meet everyone. Besides, I want to see what other differences there are besides the kid thing. And how many of you are male. France is female, Northern Ireland is genderfluid, and Ireland and Wales are something, but like…here, everyone I’ve met is a guy,” Sam said.

“I’m genderqueer,” Alfred corrected, realizing he might not have made his counterpart aware of that fact. 

“Oh, sorry. Well, everyone but Alfred is a guy, and I want to see how well that holds. Plus, if I can get through UN meetings just fine, this will be no problem,” Sam said, smiling slightly.

“You have no idea how crazy they can get them,” Allistor said, shaking his head.

“Well, now this is more motivation for me to want to go. That sounds way better than sitting around and doing nothing,” Sam said.

“Fine. I’m not going to be the one to arrange it, though,” Alfred said. Arthur shot him an annoyed look.

“It’s your counterpart!”

“And we’re at your place!”

[melloneah]

How would a female near, mello, and Matt be in your opinion? Would it affect the story?

oh. my. GOD. you have opened the pandoras box rn.

so tbh ive never thought about this before u sent me this ask but god do I have some stuff to say now that I’ve given it a little tinker

obviously this will be deeply rooted in my own belief system and personal experiences bc it’s undeniably connected to gender stereotypes and nature vs nurture

Prepare for a literal essay rn. Proper punctuation and capitalisation n shit.

To start, I wanna mention that my belief is that men and women don’t differ that much in behaviours and personalities inherently or biologically, but they’re raised based on stereotypes and assumptions which forms them into individuals that are either more masculine or feminine (behaviourally, so stereotypically). This is not including the slight biological differences that testosterone vs estrogen might cause, as i do not have much knowledge on the specifics (sorry I hate biology…) and obviously some people can be born with an innate tendency towards stereotypical masculinity or femininity in their personality.

This will require me to make some assumptions regarding how old Matt, Mello and Near were when they joined Wammy’s house. Also, obviously, this analysis will be based on if they were raised as cisgendered females; this is really important to analyse how their personalities could differ based on their experiences.

So let’s assume: they all joined Wammy’s House at a young enough age to have no real recollection of their biological families. This means that their guardians’ parenting styles had no real effect on their personalities (at least no effect on their typically gendered characteristics). This also makes it easier as we have a little bit of insight into what Wammy’s could be like in the context of parenting, while we have none on the biological families. This will still pretty much be a guessing game, but at least the guesses will be somewhat calculated.

Now we could be optimistic and claim that Wammy’s is “above” gender stereotypes and the (often unconscious) differences in raising girls vs boys. As much as I would love to believe this, I feel like the story being set in the early 2000s already negates it. I am a strong believer of the fact that society and your general environment greatly affect you, no matter how hard you try to break free of the mould. There will always be internalised beliefs and tendencies for certain actions caused by your environment that are just beyond your control, and they are often unconscious. Trying to change ones biases is hard work and a long process demanding self awareness and dedication.

Roger and Wammy are old men; as much as I’d love them to be allies💅 that don’t let gender affect their decisions and behaviour towards people, I do think the bias is inherently there to some extent. They wouldn’t decide against a girl being L’s successor simply because she’s a girl - they’re above that - but I do think as girls, Matt, Mello and Near could have a tougher time at the orphanage.

Ok moving on to specifically how/why it could affect their personalities. (god this is getting so long already I am so sorry)

Mello

We all know Mello has a super fiery personality and is filled with determination, so this one is the most fun to think about for me!!!

Most importantly, her looks would be very feminine. She’d love fashion, love skirts and dresses, and be stereotypical in that context, but would be VERY PROUD OF IT!!! EXCEPT. Her personality is canonically extremely contrasting to her looks/style. She’d get in so much more trouble at Wammy’s for being loud and bullying others, because it would just be more shocking for the teachers to see a girl act that way rather than a boy. There would be no concessions. No getting out of any smallest bit of trouble just because “boys will be boys”. But this wouldn’t make her timid; it was bound to fuel her anger even more.

It was infuriating to her when people saw a "girl in a leather mini skirt", and on account of that she wasn’t taken seriously in the pursuit of her goals. But when she acted up, all eyes were on her, and the punishment was always dire.

This also brings me to the fact that getting into the mafia was NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE. Nobody took this teenaged girl in stilettos seriously, so she had to improvise. Mello as a girl would have had to be far more ruthless in her journey trying to join the mob. Crueler. Angrier. Scare people by drastic means and desperate measures into finally taking her seriously and seeing her as worthy of respect. I think female Mello would have had much more blood on her hands, and would have been really scary...

I also think Mello would be a radical feminist. She would eventually HATE MEN as a whole, as she’d get objectified SO MUCH in the mafia. She’d just be completely done with their shit, so much so, that she would just channel her anger at an entire gender bc she was just fed. up. (and probably a little traumatised)

Her most hated phrase is “that’s not ladylike”. She values her femininity very much, and hates when people use empty stereotypes to belittle it. She can scream her head off at Near and still be a Lady!

Near

Studies show that autism is only diagnosed at a 4:1 boys to girls ratio, which means that if Near were a girl, she may not have had the access to as many accomodations. She’d still be supported in many ways, but it could be done hesitantly. Her timid behaviour and hobbies could be seen as “feminine”, meaning that if she’d ask for accomodations, the necessity for them could be doubted. (I know Wammy’s probably doesn’t officially diagnose, but Near imo desperately needs accomodations to simply function) (also, this section is very much so an “if” in my mind; it could happen depending on the level of unconscious prejudice in the orphanage, but it’s extremely dependent on the staff).

I don’t think Near being a cis girl would really affect the plot, though. I genuinely believe Near’s character transcends gender a bit, maybe he’s immune to the influence of different methods of parenting? He’s just himself and doesn’t care if people tell him he should “go out and play” or “just be a boy”.

Matt

We know the least about Matt’s canon personality, so this will mostly be based on what I believe him to be like. We know that he doesn’t care about much, and he likes games.

I think Matt is the most “boyish” of our Wammy boys, so in my mind, as a girl, she’d be quite the tomboy. Her personality wouldn’t be that much different. She could have been force fed more “girly hobbies” rather than gaming (not sure if he picked up gaming himself, or if someone introduced him to it). If he was in fact introduced by someone to video games, I believe that as a girl, she could have been shown different hobbies that are more traditionally feminine instead. Or maybe just a different game, like the sims? (the sims 1 came out in 2000 so could happen) then she could branch out into different games herself.

IT is also a very masculine interest in people’s eyes, so when she found an interest for it, she may have been slightly discouraged by teachers, but that didn't stop her, and as soon as she started being decent at it, the teachers respected it.

I do feel like as a girl, the one thing that would definitely change in Matt is his attitude. She would simply care more, as she’d spent her childhood fighting wearing skirts, fighting for her hobbies and trying to run from stereotypical femininity.

She wouldn't be particularly furious at the world, more irritated, so she wouldn't chew someone out for telling her to wear a dress for an assembly - she'd just flat out refuse wearing it and ignore anyone who'd try to persuade her.

She didn't understand why everyone is so insistent on a girl having long hair or wearing make up, and it made her feel like she couldn't be herself. She always wanted to feel like a girl, but kept feeling like it was against the rules without looking feminine. She spent a long time feeling out of place, alienated and desperately wanting to be part of a community.

Once she got comfortable with herself, I feel like she'd constantly pick up typically boyish hobbies to piss people off. (But she would genuinely enjoy them too of course!!) (and be entertained by people getting mad at stupid and pointless shit like a girl being into cars)

ok jesus i spent hours on this. it’s 1400 words. i dont know how i managed this. i struggle to write 500 word essays for uni……i am normal about death note i am normal about death note i am normal about death note 🙏 ummmm enjoy? and please let me know what you guys think!!!