#our long reign leader

[sansaorgana]

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

[iloveelliefanfics]

You're mine, little one.

synopsis: you get mistreated by a maiden, Lady Dimitrescu gets the job done after making out with you.

a/n: i literally don't know what this is i definitely hate this lol. but I've been wanting to write about our lesbian vampire queen so why not. thank you so much for any type of feedback!<3 enjoy.

pairing: dom, possessive! lady dimitrescu x reader

summary: proofread! i take requests, pics are from pinterest, pet names used. wc: 1804

Alcina Dimitrescu had a reputation. A very well deserved one as she had worked hard for it. She was ruthless, heartless, cunning, and above all, dominant and bold. She had been ruling the valley for centuries as the Lady of the Castle, her power over her people unwavering.

The maidens under her rule trembled whenever she walked through the halls. They all knew what happened to those who had the misfortune of irritating their leader, or even worse making a huge mistake. She was their ruler, their protector, but if she had to, their punisher.

And yet, a single woman was about to flip everything upside down. You. Her cold exterior melted down once she met you.

You turned everything upside down, she had fallen in love with you the first time she saw you. She was very clear on wanting you. Alcina Dimitrescu wouldn't stop until she could claim you as hers. Always surprised you with little/huge gifts, flowers, anything. When you wanted something badly and she knew of it, she always made sure to get it done, if you were happy, she was happy.

This day was especially trying on the Lady. She'd had to deal with incompetent villagers and an abundance of paperwork in her study, making her mood all the worse.

By the time she'd finally retired for the evening, her head was pounding with a tension headache, which she tried to get rid of with fresh blood.

Lady Dimitrescu was sat at the head of a long table in the grand dining hall. Golden eyes scanned meticulously over a detailed map of the area, a pen clutched between slender fingers. The quiet of the room was broken only by the occasional scratching of tip of the pen against paper as she made annotations and notes.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, her head lifting to glance towards the door. A smile curled her lips as she saw you enter. "My darling." The Lady breathed and a smile curled up on her face, as she set her pen down and held a hand out to you in greeting. "You have impeccable timing, my darling. I was just starting to get bored with finishing up some of this work, I am so glad you've come to see me, love." Rising from her chair, she made her way around the table towards you. Her movements were smooth and elegant, despite her tall figure. Her long legs closed the distance between you, her gaze roamed over you as she pulled you close against her chest, a small hum leaving her as she hugged you tightly, hands coming to rest on your hips in a gentle yet possessive touch.

She murmured into your ear, warm breath fanning over your skin. "Such a tease, you are. Trying to distract me from all this work I have to finish." She purred lowly, her fingers moving to grip your hips a bit more firmly. Pulling back slightly, she looked down at you with a heated gaze. Her eyes roamed across your face, lingering on the soft curve of your lips before meeting your gaze once more.

"I take it you have a reason for interrupting my work?" Lady Dimitrescu chuckled as she pulled you closer, again, her hands slowly beginning to wander over your form while she continued to nuzzle into your neck, her lips pressing soft kisses against your skin.

You get out of her gentle but firm touch, looking into her eyes. "I do actually..." You look away for a second, but it's enough for Alcina to sense that not everything is okay with you.

She took a deep breath, trying to reign in her anger somewhat. Her gaze fixated on you, taking in your every feature as she tried to assess any damage done.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, her voice taking a softer tone. Her hands moved to gently cup your face, her touch surprisingly gentle considering the burning anger that still flickered in her golden irises. "Ssh, my darling, don't you worry, tell me what happened." She whispered softly in a reassuring tone, gently running a hand up and down your back in soft, soothing motions.

Worry burned in her golden eyes, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. If anyone dared to touch you, theyd would meet the great Lady Dimitrescu's ruthless anger. Her body tensed, clearly ready to march out and confront the offender herself.

You take a deep breath before saying anything. "It's just that... One of the maidens started a rumor about me... about us. I know I shouldn't care but I don't want anything to happen... They also started mistreating me." Lady Dimitrescu's eyes darkened as she heard your words, anger and disgust filling her at the mere thought of someone mistreating you.

"Ah, my dearest one." She murmured, golden eyes shut as she relished in your presence, reveling in the feeling of having you in her arms. The Lady's large form was pressed firmly against yours, her body enveloping you in a reassuring embrace. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, her chin resting on top of your head as she continued to nuzzle into your hair.

"I have you now. No one will hurt you." Alcina murmured, her lips brushing against your temple as she spoke. She pulled you closer, as if trying to shield you completely from the world outside of her arms. All that mattered was being held by her, feeling her strong embrace and the reassuring beat of her heart against your ear.

Her hands began to roam over your form, fingertips tracing over the soft curves of your body in a gentle and comforting manner. Her touch was tender, filled with love and protectiveness.

With a soft sigh, she buried her face into your neck. "You're mine, you know that, right? You'll always be mine. I won't let anyone take you from me or make rumors about us. I'm going to handle it, my people will treat you like my other half." Her words were full of possessiveness and truth combined. She would do whatever it took to keep you safe. To keep you with her. No one would have you but her.

She pulled back again, golden eyes holding your gaze. "Promise me you'll tell me everything when something like this happens." She said, her voice almost trembling with desperation. She's such a fool for you.

"Of course my darling, I... I just didn't know how you'd take it." You look away kind of ashamed. You knew you should've said something earlier.

Relief instantly washed over the Lady's features, her body relaxing somewhat as she let out a shaky exhale.

She moved to grip your hips once more, using her grasp to pull you flush against her body. Her eyes roamed over your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to memorize it. "Good. You're mine, and just mine." The Lady gazed down at you for a moment, her eyes darkened with desire. She bent down, closing the distance between you in a sudden movement. Her lips met yours in a passionate kiss, claiming your mouth hungrily, fingers digging into your flesh possessively. She held you tightly against her, her body pressed against yours and the kiss dominant and demanding. Her tongue slipped against yours, the kiss a heated and possessive claiming of your lips. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss and giving a hint of her dominant nature, her grip on your hips never loosening.

The Lady pressed you firmly against her, her body trapping you between her and the wall behind you. It was impossible to escape when she had you like this, and she was more than happy to keep you right where you were. She broke the kiss reluctantly, moving back just enough to fix you in her intense golden gaze. Her tongue flicked over her bruised lips, and she gave a low growl of possessiveness.

"You're mine," she stated firmly, her voice low and heated. "All mine. No one else's. Say it."

"I'm yours, Alcina, all yours." You give in to her command, enjoying the effect she has on you.

The Lady's lips curled into a pleased smile. "Of course, dearest, of course you're all mine. I love it when you say it loud and clear." She smirked at you, loving every second of it.

One of her hands moved to cradle your face gently, her thumb caressing your cheek as she spoke. Her golden eyes darkened with promise, her lips still red and kiss-swollen.

She was utterly devoted to you. Your pleasure was her pleasure, and she would move the earth for you if you so wished it.

"Now, little one, i want you to know what it means to be claimed by me. You won't be leaving until I'm finished with you, darling." Her hands began to wander over your body, large fingers tracing every dip and curve with a possessive claiming touch. She moved to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. Her touch was firm and deliberate, as if she was mapping out every bit of you and claiming it for herself. Her lips and teeth continued their trail down to your shoulder, her breath hot against your flesh. Her body pinned you to the wall with no room to move, not that you wanted to escape. She placed a particularly hard bite on your collarbone, marking you with an obvious bruise. Claiming you as hers.

"Say it again." She breathed against your skin, her tongue darting out to lick at the spot she had just marked. "Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you, Alcina, please..." You almost begged her to continue. A low growl of sheer possessive pleasure left the Lady's lips as she heard your response. "That's right, darling. You're mine. My love, my pet, my sweet little thing." The Lady's other arm moved to wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against her. She deepened the kiss, her tongue tracing over your lower lip. Her touch was gentle but possessive, her claim upon you never wavering. One of her hands moved to gently tilt your chin up, her thumb lightly brushing over your lips. Her gaze softened even more, and she leaned forward to press her lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss.

She continued to nip and bite at your neck and collarbone, leaving small marks to remind you -and the rest of the world- that you were hers and hers alone.

"Now, my darling. It is time for me to get those maidens to their places, alright? Just stay here I'll be no longer gone than 10 minutes." She gave you another kiss then left to get the job done herself.

[storiesforallfandoms]

shared trauma ~ logan howlett; marvel

word count: 3466

request?: no

description: in which she sneaks away to help them return home, and ends up bonding with the brute with knives in his hands

pairing: logan howlett x female!reader

warnings: swearing, some deadpool & wolverine spoilers, trauma bonding, wade wilson being wade wilson, a good ending

masterlist (one, two, three)

Getting out of Cassandra's compound wasn't as hard as the Others thought. Not when you shut up and played by her rules. She trusted everyone who worked under her enough to let us come and go as we pleased, mainly because she knew we were scared enough of Alioth to come back and be under her control.

The Others also weren't as hidden as they thought. At least, not from me. Lucky for them, I was the only telepath in Cassandra's army, because Johnny's mind gave away everything about the Others without even knowing I could hear him.

When it got dark and mostly everyone had turned in, I snuck out of the compound. I could see the hiding place of the Others in my head, and I knew it would take me a long time to get there on foot, but I needed to get there. There was something about these variants - this Deadpool and this Wolverine - that was different. They may be the key to my freedom from Cassandra. Maybe to all of our freedoms.

I travelled for so long that my legs burned and I felt like I was going to pass out, but I got there. Immediately I was hit with the sounds of several brains, all thinking about a plan to take down Cassandra. All except one, but it was hard to make out what was going on in that head over the wounds of everyone else. I pushed into the place, a silence falling over the room as they heard me enter. I winced with every step I took down the stairs. When I appeared in the doorway, I was greeted by a barrage of weapons.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, putting my hands up.

"You're one of hers," Blade stated.

"I came alone," I insisted. "I...technically snuck out."

"How did you find us?" Elektra asked.

"Let's just say Johnny Storm's mind was just as loud as his mouth. Look, I'm not here to hurt you guys. I'm here because I think those two - " I nodded to Deadpool and Wolverine " - may be who we need to take Cassandra down."

"And why would you want to take down Cassandra?" Blade questioned. "She's your leader."

"Not by choice. I followed her because I knew it meant survival. But I'm telling you, I see something with those two. I'm clairvoyant as well as a telepath, and when those variants were with Cassandra I could see a fight that ended with her downfall."

The group shared a look. Well, all besides the Wolverine, who was halfway through a bottle of whiskey. He seemed to be ignoring everything going on. I realized his mind was the one I couldn't hear. It was almost like he was trying to block out any thoughts. Not because of me, but because he didn't want to have to think those things.

"We could use a clairvoyant," Elektra pointed out.

"This reading you got form us," Deadpool said. "Did you see all of us winning?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't work like that. Some scenarios aren't definitive, and some are. I saw that we'd fight her, but after that there's a number of different ways it could go. All I saw for sure was that Cassandra was taken down and everyone in the Void was finally free from her reign."

"Sounds like a shit power," Wolverine muttered.

"She could tell us how to avoid the bad paths," Elektra said.

My legs were starting to ache in a way I couldn't handle for much longer. "Can you guys make a decision soon? I walked all the way here and my legs feel like they're about to snap off."

The group, minus Wolverine, shared another look before X-23 - Laura - nodded and said, "We'll give you a bed. Once you're rested, we'll come up with a plan."

~~~~~~

I laid awake that night while everyone else was asleep. We had come up with a plan to attack Cassandra's compound, one that should be mostly successful for everyone if the input from my visions helped at all. Everyone else had gone to bed with hope of a successful mission at sunrise, but I was wide awake with thoughts of going against Cassandra. Unlike everyone else, I had been part of Cassandra's team for a very long time. I had seen the things she did to people who opposed her. Despite the fact that my visions should give us a leg up in this fight, I was still scared of the consequences if we lost.

There was a stir in the air that told me someone was awake. I heard movement and the sound of a glass bottle being picked up. Logan didn't notice as I rolled over to face him. He was already walking up the steps and out of the hideout. It took me all of ten seconds to decide to follow him. This Wolverine may have been a grumpy Gus, but trying to speak with him would be way better than laying in the silent room struggling to sleep.

I followed him into the woods, where he had already started a small fire. He was sat next to it, hunched over with a bottle of Gambit's whiskey. I was shocked there was any whiskey left at this point, but who was I to judge someone else's coping mechanism.

His back straightened when he heard me approaching. "I don't want company."

"Good thing I'm not here to keep you company," I said, sitting next to him but keeping enough space between us. "I'm here to see if you'll share the liquor you're stealing."

To my surprise, he willingly gave me the bottle without hesitation. I took a big mouthful, which proved to be a bad idea when the harsh liquid burned my throat. I winced at the burn and gagged once I had it swallowed. Logan let out a low chuckle. "Not your usual drink of choice, huh?"

"Actually, I've never drank," I responded, passing the bottle back to him. "I was pruned before I was legal drinking age, and Cassandra doesn't have alcohol at her base."

"You nervous to fight your boss tomorrow?"

"She's not my boss. I'm not part of her team by choice. I already said that. You saw Alioth, you saw what he can do. I was young, I was scared, and she promised to keep me safe."

There was a pause. I wouldn't look at him. I knew coming here was a risk. I knew they wouldn't completely trust me. I just wished they would understand I only sided with Cassandra to stay safe and alive.

Logan broke the silence when he asked, "How young?"

"What?"

"You said you were young, below the legal drinking age. How young?"

"I was a teenager," I responded. "Mid-teens, I think."

"What does a teenager do to get themselves sent to this hell hole?"

I shifted in my seat. No one had ever asked me my backstory before, so I never had to reveal what I was most ashamed to admit. "Do you have Hydra in your universe?"

He nodded. I sighed and said, "My parents...they worked for Hydra. They...they let those Hydra scientists experiment on me. Trying to recreate something as powerful as the serum that created Captain America. Except, instead of making me super strong, it gave me the ability to read minds and see the future. Weirdly enough, the TVA doesn't like anyone that can change the future."

"They didn't get you to join them? Seems like your powers would've been perfect for a time variance agency."

I chuckled humorlessly. "That's not how the TVA works."

"You were a kid."

"That's not how the TVA works."

When he didn't respond, I found myself becoming aware of the silence. Like, of the actual silence. I couldn't hear a single thing Logan was thinking. No one could truly block me out. At least, no one I had met. Not even Cassandra could keep me out completely. I looked over at Logan, trying to focus on him, but still I couldn't hear anything.

"I don't like people poking around in my brain, bub."

I smiled a little. "I can't help it usually, but your brain is weirdly silent. No thoughts, Wolvie?"

"They're none of your business."

I left it at that. Despite my abilities, I wasn't one to pry into other people's thoughts. I heard things by accident, but I wasn't searching through people's heads for their trauma. Actually, it was nice to not have Logan's voice in my head. It was true silence that I had not had in years.

"Are you really not coming with us?" I asked him.

"I'm not a hero," he responded.

"You sure about that?" I eyed his yellow suit. "It's not about being a hero, though. It's about going home."

"There is no home for me to go back to."

His mental walls cracked for just a moment then. I could hear something coming from his mind; the faint calling of his name. No, not calling. Screaming. It was multiple voices, but it was just a faint whisper to me. At the same time, an image came through in his mind. It was a woman with red hair and brown eyes. We didn't have any variants of her come through the Void before, but I had recognized her from the minds of other X-Men who I had crossed paths with: Jean Grey.

Just as quickly as those thoughts slipped out, Logan managed to pull them back in. I wasn't sure if he was hiding them from me or from himself, but either way they were gone. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew I had heard something, and he was not very happy that I had.

"You don't have to tell me," I said, my voice soft. "Or...or show me. But whatever it is going on that has you like this, I'm sorry it happened."

His face was hard as stone, but I could see in his eyes that there was a flux of emotions.

"I lost people," he admitted. "Everyone I loved in my universe. It was my fault and...I just couldn't live with that. I did things...things I regret. Things that could never bring those people back."

"You could be reunited with them in another universe."

He shook his head. "It won't be the same. Every other universe already has a Wolverine. The only one that doesn't is the Mouth's, and that's because he died. I couldn't go back there and put them through seeing me and opening up old wounds. Besides, I don't think I could see them again either. Too much guilt."

I could see Jean's face again, just for a moment, before she was gone again. I could feel Logan's grief; his guilt. The more he opened up, the more his mind became easier to read.

I moved closer to him. Not by much, just an inch to test the waters. When he didn't react, I moved closer again until the space between us was almost completely closed. He looked up at me, but for once he didn't have that scowl on his face. He looked curious by my actions more than anything. I didn't try to push his boundaries any further than just being close to him.

"Good people do bad things sometimes," I told him. "It doesn't make you a bad person."

"I'm no hero, kid," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Neither am I. None of us are here. But that doesn't mean you can't become a hero."

I wasn't sure if it was the whiskey, the fire, or just how close I was to Logan, but I felt a rush of heat washing over my body. I knew I was definitely feel the effects of the alcohol because I was swaying involuntarily. I started to lean in closer to him, but tried to stop myself as best I could. He seemed amused by it, at least, which made me smile more.

I let out a yawn and stood. I stumbled a little, causing Logan to reach out for me to steady me.

"Are you gonna be able to get back on your own?" he asked.

"I think so, but if you see me passed out along the way do me a favor and carry me back," I said. He chuckled and I tried not to beam too much about it.

I started to walk away, or more like stumble I guess, when Logan called, "Did you see me there tomorrow? In your visions?"

I turned back to him and responded, "Maybe. You'll figure that out tomorrow."

~~~~~~

Good news is, the battle at Cassandra's hideout went well. We took down every one of her cronies, and when Cassandra had left with the army of Deadpools to go to Deadpool-10005's universe, we commandeered her place to keep us safe from Alioth.

Bad news is, Wolverine and Deadpool got out, but the rest of us didn't.

No one really seemed upset over that fact. I mean, besides Laura, who was already missing the variant of Logan ("He may not have been my dad, but he was a version of dad," she had said when she realized he had left without her). Blade, Elektra, and Gambit were more proud of themselves for saving the day, even if it meant not going back to their own realities. I guess I was happy to no longer be under Cassandra's control, too, but I found myself wishing I could've left this place too.

And I found myself dreaming about Logan.

Well, partially dreaming. Some of them were visions.

It's not hard to differentiate between dreams and visions. I don't often get visions when I sleep, but when I do I can feel that they're visions. It's hard to explain other than that. Some nights I found myself dreaming of us by the fire again, except this time I allowed myself to get close enough to Logan to touch him. It very rarely went further than my shoulder against his, sometimes my head against his shoulder. But the visions I had were us together in an apartment I didn't recognize. At first they were all the same - me, Logan, and Wade living domestically in some apartment in New York. Laura was there once too, but only one time.

But then once the vision ended with Logan's arm around my waist and his lips against my forehead. I had woken up with a start before anything else happened.

It was the only vision that showed me with him romantically, but I knew deep down inside of me that that's what I wanted. I mean, Logan is an attractive man. No one could deny that. I may have only known one version of him briefly, but still it was enough to leave me longing for his presence again.

It was just another new normal day in the compound previously owned by Cassandra - I was in my own room reading one of the few books Cassandra had somehow found and kept - when an orange door shaped portal opened. I recognized it as a TVA portal. I sat up quickly, my guard high as I waited for a TVA agent to walk through.

But it wasn't an agent.

It was Logan.

"Come on, kid," he told me. "I'm taking you home."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I was up off my bed and through the portal. I expected to be brought to the TVA first, but I was surprised to find myself in a small apartment.

The apartment from my visions.

I looked around, taking in every detail of the place that I had already seen in my head before. Everything was there, from the pictures to the crude drawings Wade had stuck to the fridge, to the mattress in the middle of the living room where Logan slept. Everything from my visions.

"This..." I said, but paused before I finished the sentence. Did I tell him I had been seeing this place? Did I tell him that I had been seeing us?

When I didn't say anything further, Logan said, "I know it's not your home. But...I wasn't sure if you'd want to go back there."

"I don't," I said quickly. And it was true, I never wanted to go back there. After what my parents had done to me, it was almost a blessing to be sent to the Void. Besides being forced to do Cassandra's bidding.

Logan nodded. "Okay. So...well...welcome. You can stay here as long as you want. It'll take some time to get used to actual society again, I'd assume. The Mouth lives here too - "

As if on cue, the front door opened and there stood Wade, being followed by the mut I once knew as Dogpool.

"Ah! You got the girl!" he said, ushering the dog into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him. "Finally, he can shut up about seeing you again."

Logan's face turned a shade of red I never expected to see from The Wolverine. "Wade, shut the fuck up."

"What? I'm just saying you've been brooding around this place for ages because we had to leave her behind. You finally have her back. Oh, and Laura! You guys can be one big, happy, fucked up family."

I looked over at Logan. "Laura's here?"

"Not staying with us, but she is in this universe," Logan said. "The TVA agreed to let us save you guys from the Void. Gambit, Elektra, and Blade are all gone back to their own universes now."

"Hopefully one where Gambit can find a better dialect coach," Wade added. "And you get to stay here with us! Isn't that just great? You get to share a bed with Wolvie."

"Only if you're comfortable with that," Logan quickly added, shooting another glare at Wade.

"Of course she'll be fine with that. Better than sharing a bed with Blind Al. Actually, can we switch? I'd much rather cuddle up to the greatest showman."

Logan raised a fist to Wade and unsheathed his claws. It was enough for Wade to finally stop running his mouth and scurry off to his room, the dog following closely behind him. Logan pulled his claws back in and let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to take in at once," he said. "It's a lot of explaining."

"I can figure it out, I'm sure," I said. "Thank you for saving me."

"I should be thanking you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't do anything."

"After our talk by the fire, I realized you were right. I was letting the shit I did get to me for too long. I forgot who I was, or who Charles wanted me to be. I just needed a little push from a different mind reader."

I smiled at him. "You just needed someone to tell you you're not a bad person. It's insane to me that no one had done that before I did. Just cause you did bad things didn't mean you were ever a bad person."

There was a pause, then suddenly I was being pulled towards him. Before my mind could comprehend what was happening, Logan's lips were against mine. His hands were holding my face, holding me to him. It took my brain a few seconds to register what was going on before my hands were reaching for his shirt, holding him as well.

Our moment was swiftly interrupted by a familiar merc exclaiming, "Finally!"

Logan pulled away from me to glare at Wade over my shoulder. I heard the bedroom door slam shut again.

He looked down at me. "I'm sorry that you will have to put up with that."

I giggled. "I guess it's a small price to pay if it means I get to kiss you more."

His smile was so beautiful. It really brightened his face after all the brooding and scowling I had seen him doing before. "I'll kiss you as much as you want, bub. Just gotta make sure Wade is locked away in his room if you want it to be any more than kissing."

"Awe, no fair!" came Wade's voice.

Logan and I shared a look before Logan said, "Maybe we start looking for an apartment of our own."

The suggestion caused my mind to fill with another vision: Logan and I in a small place similar to this one, but one that was just our own. The two of us tangled in sheets, completely naked, with the glow of the sunrise spiling through the blinds onto us.

I smiled, both at the vision and at Logan. "I would love that."

[arc-misadventures]

Vivat Libertas Soluta

His head was mounted on a pike. The false king, king slayer, the traitor, Adam Tauraus was dead.

Upon the ramparts of, Kuo Kuana Castle stood, Jaune Arcadia, first born son of, Duke Acheius Arcadia. A wondering knight who came to, Menageire, and saw the turmoil that befell upon the kingdom. He soon lead a hearty band of militia into a well trained army, and overthrew the tyrannical king, and restored freedom to the land. Now the battle was done, the war was over, but the real work was about to begin.

Jaune: Faunas of Menagerie! Adam Taurus has been defeated! The kingdom of Menagerie has been freed from his tyranny! You are now free! Long live the, Kingdom of Menagerie! Long live the freedom of the Faunas! Vivat libertas soluta!

Pure Fang: Vivat libertas soluta!

Jaune: VIVAT LIBERTA SOLUTA!!!

Pure Fang: VIVAT LIBERTA SOLUTA!!!

Jaune: VIVIAT LIBERTA SOLUTA!!!

Pure Fang: VIVIAT LIBERTA SOLUTAAAAAA!!!

~~~

Sienna: Ahh, Jaune there you are. How are you feeling?

Jaune was sitting in a chair in the great hall of, Kuo Kuana Castle. He looked to his second in command, the once proud leader of the, White Fang, until she too was betrayed by, Adam's secret combinations.

Jaune: I'm tired... I'm just tired... I helped you free your people, killed the tyrant who overthrew the royal family, and enslaved your people... and, now that all of that is over... now, the real work begins...

Sienna: The real work?

Jaune: There was this old solider I fought alongside once. We were attacking this fort to seize it from some, Mistralian troops, and we managed to take it. While we were celebrating our victory, there was this old solider sitting on the side mending his equipment. And, I asked him what he was doing, and why he wasn't joining in the celebrations. He said to me, 'My Lord, taking this fort was the easy part, holding it though, now that's the hard part.'

Jaune: We have done away with the traitor king, but now you must build a new, a stronger kingdom that will prevent such tyranny from rising again. The easy part is over, the hard work is about to begin.

Jaune: The government needs to be reorganized, the farmlands that the, White Fang torched will need to be resown. The fortifications at the coast need to be rebuilt. Above all, the treasury needs to be refilled. There's so much work to be done...

Sienna: I see... I was aware that we had work to do now that the, Adam's tyrannic reign has been overthrown. But, I wasn't aware that it would be that much work.

Jaune: That's just the ones at the top of my head. There will no doubt be dozens of smaller obstacles that will be needed to be overcome. As I said, we have much work to do.

Neon: 'We?' Wait, does that mean you're staying?

The duo stared to the side as, Neon Katt, Sienna's second after those in her former members of the, White Fang betrayed her to fight along side the traitor king.

Jaune: Ha! You think I was just going to leave after slaying, Adam? Hell no! I put in a lot of work into reforming the loyalist of the, White Fang into the fighting force that the, Pure Fang now is! And, I put in a hell of a lot more work into killing that welp, Adam, and freeing the people of, Menagerie! I'm thigh deep into this mess, you aren't getting rid of me just when the real work is about to begin!

Neon: Oh thank the gods!

Neon visibly relaxed as she heard, Jaune said those words.

Jaune: Eh?

Sienna: Many of us were worried that you being a human, and a part of your countries nobility, that you would eventually leave us behind, and go home.

Jaune: Ahh, well I'll have to send a letter to my father informing him him of all that has happened. But, that I have no intention of leaving. So sorry, Neon, but you're stuck with me.

Neon: Oh that's such a shame.

Jaune smiled as he heard the snark sass that emanated from, Neon's lips as she put on a sad display of sorrow, sad in the attempt, less so in the effect.

Jaune: Hehe... cheeky bugger.

Sun: Hey now! What's with sour mood people? We just won a civil war! We should be celebrating! Drinks all around!

Jaune smile grew as he saw his friend, Sun Wukong enter the room a bottle in his hands.

Sun Wukong, the Pirate Monky King. A pirate who traveled the seas between, Menagerie, and the rest of the world, looting, and plundering any ships he deemed worthy. More often then not, human ships, than faunas ships.

He joined, Jaune, and his marry band of freedom fighters to help arm, and supply, Jaune, and his forces as they fought to overthrow the tyrant king.

Jaune: So long as it isn't that cheap piss you call ale, you made me drink at that pub, I'm up for a round, or two.

Sienna: Agreed.

Sun: Ha! I'll have you know I just raided the castles wine cellar so I have the pick of the litter of the good booze!

Jaune: Did he pick the good booze?

Fiona: Uhhh... no.

Fiona Thyme, one of the few subordinates under, Sienna's command who did not betray her leader. She plucked the ale from, Sun's hand, and inspected it. Giving the bottle a look of disgust as she handed it back, whipping her hands of the bottles filth.

Sun: What?! I picked the perfect bottle!

Fiona: You picked a bottle of, Vaccuo brandy; This stuff is tasteless crap that no one likes to drinks.

Sun: What?! If no one drinks it, how come my ships stores kept getting emptied?

Jaune: Wait, that stuff is a drink? We were using it to as a fire bomb against the, White Fang.

Sun: Awww... my booze...

Sienna: I'll go check the wine cellar, and get us something good to drink.

Jaune: Thanks, Sienna. You can keep the bottle, Sun.

Sun: Fine! Not like I wanted to share my favourite drink with my friends...

Jaune: Okay... I'll try one small cup of...

Anubis: Lord Arcadia!

Jaune: Anubis? Are you alright, you seem to be in a panic?

Anubis Iwiw, the last surviving member of the royal guard, her fellow members of the royal guard sacrificed their lives to buy time for, Anubis to escape. To warn the others of, Adam's betrayal, and the death of the royal family.

Because of her combat experience, Jaune appointed her as his second in command. Giving him valuable information as they fought, such as the lay of the land, and how various forts throughout, Menagerie were built, or would have been built. Giving, Jaune valuable information to make this civil war end far sooner than expected.

Anubis: She's alive!

Jaune: Who, who is alive?

Anubis: My Lady! She's alive!

Jaune: What?!

Sienna: Queen Belladonna is alive?!

Anubis: Yes! Praise the Gods! My Lady lives!

Sun: She's alive?!

Jaune: I thought she was dead?

Fiona: Everyone thought she was dead! We all saw, Taurus paraded, King Ghira's head around when he declared himself king. We just thought she was killed along with him.

Anubis: Well, she isn't! My lady is alive, and well! And, she wants to see you.

Jaune: Me?

Anubis: Yes! My Lady desires to see you, Lord Arcadia.

Jaune looked at his friends as they shrugged their shoulders, and nodded towards, Anubis, a subtle gesture to follow her. A tired groan escaped his lips, as he walked towards, Anubis.

Jaune: Save me a drink fellas, I think I'm going to need it...

~~~

Anubis led, Jaune through the many halls of, Kuo Kuana Castle., leading him deep within the inner most parts of the castle. Including several attendants who stood before them, that bowed their heads in respect towards him.

Jaune: Are these the, Queen's attendants? I thought they were all killed. Then again, I thought the, Empress was killed alongside them.

Anubis: The King may be seen as the leader of the nation, but her, Majesty is the true power behind the throne.

Jaune: Wait, what? How is that so?

Anubis: The King is a figure head that helps lead, and unite the people under one banner. In times of war, he will lead our armies in the defense of our lands. But, while the king is away, her Majesty manages the finances, and maintains the social stability of the kingdom.

Jaune: Ahh clever. So. Adam couldn't kill her because of the possible ramifications the kingdom would face if she was suddenly killed?

Anubis: That is... one of the reasons she was spared.

Jaune: One of?

Anubis: I will let my, Lady explain it herself. There are things only she can explain.

Jaune arched an eyebrow at those cryptic words, he had long since learned that the faunas were a rather secretive lot. A habit of mind often used to protect others, and themselves from others evil scheming.

The duo stopped as they reached a sliding door with two attendants standing besides it.

Anubis: Tell her, Grace that I have brought, Lord Arcadia.

Anubis bowed her head, as the attendant bowed her head in turn, she whispered something through the door. They stood there for a moment before the doors slide open from the other side, granting them passage inside.

The room smelled of incense as a large veil stood before them, hiding her majesty from them. Anubis reached a mat on the floor before the curtain, and knelt down upon it. Jaune took the spot besides her, and knelt down as well. Anubis bowed her head low before raising it to speak to the lady behind the curtain.

Anubis: My Lady, I once again offer my most sincere gratitude to know that you are safe. And, as per your command, I have brought, Lord Arcadia before you.

Anubis: Lord Arcadia, may I present to you, Queen Kali Asrid Belladonna. The Shadow Queen of the Faunas Kingdom of Menagerie.

Jaune: I am honoured by this meeting I have been given to meet the, Queen of Menagerie.

Jaune bowed his head after giving a basic noble greetings, he heard a soft laugh as he raised his head.

Kali: You have done well, Captain of the Guard, my thanks. You may take your leave now. You, and the rest of my attendants present.

Jaune watched as, Anubis's body flinched in surprise.

Anubis: A-Are you sure my, Lady?

Kali: Fufufu~! Do you fear that this young man will do something untoward me without you, or my attendants present?

The Queen's laugh was a warm, joyful laugh that found it amusing that she thought, Jaune would do anything to her if she was left alone.

No, Jaune thought. The Queen thought it was amusing that, Jaune could have the possibility to do anything to her when she was all alone with him.

But, Anubis looked at, Jaune from the corner of her eye before she calmed herself, and spoke.

Anubis: No, my Lady. I trust, Lord Arcadia with my life. I'm just... I'm...

Kali: I know, Anu. We will have plenty of time to talk about things that have happened later. In the meantime, Lord Arcadia, and I have many things we need to discuss about. Privately.

Anubis: I understand, my Lady.

Anubis soon stood, and left the chamber with the rest of her, Majesties attendants. Leaving, Jaune all alone with the, Queen of Menagerie.

Silenced reigned in the room before, Jaune, almost nervously bowed his head before the, Queen.

Jaune: I offer my greeting towards the, Queen of Menagerie. And, I also offer my glad tidings at the news that her majesty is alive, and well. We were under the impression that the entire royal family had been killed when the traitor, Adam Taurus betrayed, and murdered the former king, King Ghira Belladonna. Or, more so I was under that impression, as that is a common practice when rebellions against the throne occur in my home country.

Kali: Yes... Your home country... Tell me, Lord Jaune Lunaria Arcadia, son of, Duke Acheius Calabane Arcadia. What is a, Valian knight doing all the way down here fighting in a civil war that he, and his country have no part with? Why put in so much effort in a world outside your own?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I heard that the, White Fang were freedom fighters, that they fought with the, Dynasty of Mantle for years, decades even to free captured faunas slaves. As a young boy I used to look up to such noble actions. So, I decided to come here as part of my knight errantry quest to learn about, and from such freedom fighters.

Jaune: And, yet when I finally arrive here. I find faunas shoving other faunas into cages, and selling them off to the, Dynasty for coin. They say they are just expelling 'traitors...'

Jaune: The slavers liberators, became the slave traders... I find the idea of slavery barbaric, and cruel. But, to find out that the very men who once freed slaves, now make their fellow country men... Children into slaves... I couldn't stand for it...

Jaune: Slavers dehumanize their captives, viewing them as less then cattle to be bought, and sold for some coin. To see them shoving children into a cage... I lost it... I killed the slavers, freed the slaves, and I made sure that this would not happen again.

Jaune: As I was going about freeing the the slaves, Sienna Khan, and her followers found me, and I learned of, Adam's betrayal. Upon learning this, I joined her forces, and reform the loyalist members of the, White Fang into the, Pure Fang. I then lead them in a crusade of liberation to free the people of, Menagerie from the traitor king, Adam Taurus's vile reign.

Jaune: I did this not because I wanted glory, or fame, I did this because I thought it was right. That it was the right thing to do! I need not riches, nor titles for my deeds, your Grace. The meager gifts the people of, Menagerie have given me throughout my quest to liberate these lands are enough; I am contempt with these things.

Kali: Ohh~? That will surly not do noble knight. You have done a great service to the people of, Menagerie. Rewards for your service are to be given. I will hear no word to the contrary.

Jaune figured as much, he truly had no wanted no reward for his accomplishments. But, as he expected, that due to nobles honour some reward would have to be given. Least of, he could now request simpler items as a reward for his accolades.

Jaune: In that case your, Grace. I plan to stay on to help the people to rebuild, Menagerie. So, a house of my own would suffice.

Kali: A house? Hmmm... That could be arranged...

A manor would all that, Jaune would ask for. He did not desire anything more than that.

Kali: However... I wish to propose a better offer to you, my dear noble knight.

Jaune: What offer?

Jaune was now on high alert. Noble dealings was froth with traps, and pitfalls hidden behind honey words that the uninitiated brought forth into the game of noble politics.

Such fun.

Kali: The Belladonna royal family is in... dire states. And, because of that, so to is the nation... For, I did not loose just my husband, King Ghira Belladonna, by the traitors hand. I also lost my daughter, to his honied words...

Jaune: Your daughter? There is an heir to the throne?

Kali: Yes... there was an heir to the throne...

Jaune: My... my condolences...

Kali: Save your breath. She was dead to me long before her life was extinguished, by Sienna Khan's hands.

Jaune: W-What? What do you mean by that?

Kali: She died first in bond, and then again in blood.

Bond, and blood: That was a very worrisome combination. Suddenly the death of the king, and Adam's accension to power posed a far darker implications about how things when really happened.

Kali: Just like the queen, the princess of the, Royal family are kept in the shadows to maintain the country behind the scenes. The princes, and kings are put to the forefront to show the people that the royal family is there for the people. The identity of my former daughter was to be kept in the shadows until she took the throne, then she would make a few public appearances. But, she was to be kept hidden.

Kali: Unfortunately, despite my best efforts she was a rebellious, and foolish child. Often escaping the castle for long times, I did this myself from time to time. But, I did not expect her to be found, and indoctrinated by, Adam Taurus's fringe element of radicals within the, White Fang. Nor, that that traitors scums influence was so strong that she would happily lead her father to his death...

Jaune: What?! She betrayed her own father!

Jaune was furious, familial bonds were held as sacred among, Valians. The mark of a kinslayers was carved upon the bodies of kinslayers before they were hanged, and their bodies left to rot. They were given no gravestone, and to the greater world it was as if they never ecisted.

Jaune: Damnable kinslayer! She help murder her own father, and allow a tyrant to usurp the throne! I curse her to a thousand hells where she will find no peace!

Kali: Oh-ho-ho~? I see it is true what they say, about, Valians, and their opinions on kinslayers. If you must thank anyone for ridding the world of my wretched daughter, then you should thank, Sienna Khan. The Captain of the Royal Guard, Anubus Iwiw informed me that she was slain by her hands, and her body was burned to ash.

Jaune: Sienna killed her? When did she... Wait... there was a girl that, Sienna saw that she screamed traitor at. She never told me why she was a traitor, she just made sure her body was burned when she was killed... What was her name...

Jaune remembered the day, Sienna killed the traitor. Sienna was brutal; Sienna whipped her with her chain whip cutting grooves of blood across her body. The traitor disarmed her with her sword, and viciously stabbed her, aiming to kill, Sienna. But, Sienna simply shrugged of the wound, and tackled her to the ground.

Sienna's hands wrapped her hands around the traitors neck, she squeezed hard as she chocked her out. The traitor clawed at her arms, and face, but Sienna would not relent. As blood dripped down her face from the claw marks, she muttered the words, 'This if your your father, Blake!' Just before, Jaune heard a wicked snap as her neck was broken.

It was a brutal sight to behold, but as, Jaune, pried Sienna's hands from around her neck, she cried. She cried her heart out as the fort, fell, and burned toi the ground. Taking the traitors body along with it.

Jaune: Blake... That was her name, Blake. Sienna didn't tell me who she was. Just that her name was, Blake, and she was the traitor amongst traitors...

Kali: Blake... Blake Belladonna... That was her name... As I said, she was my daughter. Our familial bounds were severed however when she lead her father to the slaughter. All because she did not learn of her peoples history.

Jaune: What did she not learn?

Kali: Experience: The cruel experience of the brutality of war.

Jaune: The Faunas Wars...

Kali: Yes... The youth of this age did not experience the true horrors the, Faunas Wars wrought upon the faunas. They see whatever slights the humans of the modern day give to them, to be just as cruel, and brutal as they were before the, Faunas Wars. Their elders told them things were far worse, so they should just accept whatever slights the humans give them. But, youth is often the age of rebellion in young children.

Kali: The, White Fang was once the military arm of the faunas. But, more, and more radical youth joined the, White Fang, and... Well... you know what happened.

Jaune: I know all too well... I spent the better part of two years cleaning up their messes. The radicals overthrew, Sienna Khan, and expelled those that remained loyal to, Sienna. They then killed the former king, Ghira Belladonna, and Adam Taurus usurped the throne. Arresting anyone who rose up against, Adam's tyranny. Then they started selling them as slaves... All for the, 'Glory of the Faunas...'

Kali: For the glory of the faunas...

Jaune: If I may ask... How did you survive your, Grace.

Kali: Oh? Well, the last kind act my daughter gave me was sparing my life. The excuse she gave to, Adam Taurus was that I was still needed to run the country. So I was to be spared so I could continue to rule the country from the shadows. At least until, Blake could take my place.

Kali: Though, Adam's claws were too entrenched into the dealings of the country that I could scarcely do anything to curb his influence. The most I could do was allow certain tidbits of information to be leaked: Supply deposits, money trains, weapon piles, simple things like that.

Jaune: So you were the informant. I offer my thanks your, Majesty. Your information proved to be quite valuable in our attempt to defeat, Adam's forces.

Kali: It was all I could offer you. At least, all I could offer you at the time.

Jaune: What do you mean by that...?

Kali: I wish to make you an offer, Lord Arcadia.

Jaune: And, what is it that offer your, Grace?

Jaune could hear the happy lint to her voice. She was scheming something, the question now was, what?

Kali: The kingdom has lost it's king, and it's heir to the throne. It is in shambles, and it is hanging on by a thread. I am capable of repairing this kingdom from the shadows. But, I need a new, King by my side, and a new heir to assume the throne, and I would like you to provide me, and the kingdom with both.

Jaune: Wait... You want me to marry you, and become king?! And, to sire an heir with you?!

Kali: In indeed I do~!

Jaune had not expected this sudden turn of development. He had expected that the, Queen would give him something akin to, lands, titles, money, that is why he tried to ask for something simple, such as a house. But, to be offered the throne was not what he ever expected.

Kali: You may think you are not worthy of the crown, but you have been acting like a king without the crown for a long time; You freed my the people, united them under a single banner, and fought for the freedom of all the faunas from, Adam's tyrannic rule. Thus are the duties of a, Faunas King. There are few who would no doubt oppose the notion of a human becoming the crown king of the faunas. But, if it's you I doubt many will object... too much. So tell me... Jaune do you accept my offer; Will you marry me, sire an heir, and rule the country along side me?

Jaune swallowed as his head went spinning as he tired to comprehend this offer. Jaune stared at veil as his struggled to come up with an answer. His thought's were soon interrupted as he heared a melody of an amused laugh from behind the curtain.

Kali: Relax, take your time to think about my offer. But, do remember...

The curtain was pulled away as a beauty unknown to his senses appeared before him. The raw, godly elegance of the, Queen of the Faunas, Kali Asrid Belladonna.

Kali: Don't keep a lady waiting too long now, Jaune~!

Jaune: (Gulp...)

Jaune: I-I'll make sure to do that, your Grace...

Jaune cursed the old man under his breath, he was right: The hard work was truly about to begin.

[uncleclaudius]

The Lyon Tablet, a transcript of the speech Emperor Claudius had given in the Senate in 48 AD, arguing for the admission of senators from Gaul.

1. I should say at the outset that I reject the first thought that will, I am sure, be the very first thing to stand in my way: namely that you will recoil from my suggestion as though I were introducing some revolutionary innovation.  Think, instead, of how many changes have taken place over the years in this state and how many forms and constitutions our state has had, from the time of its very foundation.

2. At one time this city was held by kings, though they did not pass it along to successors from their own families. People from other families came to the throne and even some foreigners.  Numa, for example, succeded Romulus, and was a Sabine; that made him a neighbor, certainly, but at the time he was also a foreigner. Another example is Tarquinius Priscus, who succeded Ancus Marcius: because of his impure blood--his father was the Corinthian Demaratus and his mother was from Tarquinii, to Tarquinius Priscus supposedly had a Greek father and an Etruscan mother. And though well-born she was very poor, which is why she was forced to marry such a husband.--Tarquinius was kept from positions of honor in his own land and thus emigrated to Rome, where he became king.  Between Tarquinius and either his son or his grandson (for our authorities disagree on this point) there came Servius Tullius.  And according to the Roman sources Servius Tullius had as a mother a prisoner of war, Ocresia; according to the Etruscans he had been the faithful companion of Caelius Vivenna and took part in his adventures, and later, when he was driven out by a change of fortune, he left Etruria with all the suriving troops of Caelius and seized the Caeliian hill, which thus takes its name from his leader Caelius, and after changing his name (for his Etruscan name was Mastarna) he was given the name I have already mentioned, and became king, to the very great advantage of the state. Then, after the behavior of Tarquinius Superbus came to be hated by our city--and not only his behavior but that of his sons--the people obviously became tired of monarchy, and the administration of state was transferred to the consuls, who were annual magistates.

3. Why need I mention the dictatorship--more powerful even than the consulship--which was what our ancestors came up with when wars were particularly hard or there was serious civil disturbance?  Or why need I mention the the creation of tribunes of the plebs, to provide assistance for the plebs?  Why mention transfer of imperium from consuls to the decemviri, and at the end of the reign of the decemviri the return of imperium back to the consuls?  Why mention the distribution of the consular power to multiple recipients, called tribunes of the soldiers with consular power, who were first six and then eight in number?  Why should I mention the fact that offices that were once patrician ones were shared eventually with the plebeians, religious ones as well as military?

4. If I were to tell of the wars, which our ancestors started with and which have continued down to the present day, I fear that I would appear too boastful, and look as though I wanted to boast about my glory in extending the empire beyond the Ocean.  But let me instead return to my original point.  Citizenship can ... [some text is lost here]

[column II]

5. Certainly it was a new thing when my great-uncle Augustus and my uncle Tiberius decided to admit into this Senate house the flower of the coloniae and the cities from all over the empire--all of them good and wealthy men of course.  But, you may say, is not an Italian senator more useful than a provincial one?  When I start explaining this aspect of my censorship I will reveal what I think about that.   But certainly I  think that provincials should not be rejected, as long as they will be a credit to the Senate.

6. Behold that most glorious and flourishing colony of Vienne: how long has it provided senators for this chamber?  From Vienne comes an ornament of the equestrian order with few equals, Lucius Vestinus, whom I esteem greatly and retain even now in my service.   May his children, I beseech you, enjoy priesthoods of the first rank, and after that, in the years to come, may they proceed to further honors.  (I will not utter the dire name of that brigand—I detest him, that monster of the wrestling-ring—or the fact that he acquired the consulship for his family before his colony had ever obtained the solid benefit of the Roman citizenship.  And I could say the same thing about his brother, who suffered a pathetic and fate, and was thus no use to you as a senator.)

7. It is time now, Tiberius Caesar Germanicus, to reveal to the senators where your speech is headed; for you have already come to the extreme limits of Gallia Narbonensis.

8. Consider all the distinguished young men I see before me: the fact that they are senators should cause no more regret than that felt by Persicus--a most distinguished man and a friend of mine--when he reads the name Allobrogicus among the images of his ancestors.  And if you agree that this is true, what should I not also point out to you that the land beyond Gallia Narbonensis already sends you senators?  We do not, after all, regret that we have men in the senate from Lugdunum.

9. I was somewhat hesitant, senators, about leaving the boundaries of provinces that were well known to you, but now I must make the case for Gallia Comata with some seriousness.  If anyone concentrates on the fact that the Gauls resisted the divine Julius in war for ten years, he should consider that they have also been loyal and trustworthy for a hundred years, and had this loyalty tried to the utmost when we were in danger.  They it was who provided my father Drusus with secure internal peace when he was conquering Germany, even though he was summoned to the war while in the middle of a census, which was then a new and strange business for the Gauls.  And we know from our own experience how difficult the census can be, even though for us it involves nothing more than the public recording of our resources. (tr. E. M. Smallwood)

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fifteen

authors note: next chapter will be a lot heavier, because we see shit play out. italicized dialogue indicates that spanish is being spoken.

ya'll better not come for me after this one either, okay! 😭

just know the plot is plotting, ya'll

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, roman being a dick to anyone other than his wife, and violence

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

masterlist

words: 10k

The newly opened doors of intimacy have awakened a previously dormant part of Solana.

Something she previously thought impossible to access, permanently damaged as a result of her trauma.

But, she was wrong. 

So, so wrong.

Roman is everything she never allowed herself to dream about having, let alone actually hoped to have in real life.

Caring, considerate, gentle, patient.

Their first time together is something she’ll never forget and always cherish. But, it’s the times afterwards, sporadic over the past two days since the consummation, that have almost meant something more.

A testament to her comfort and trust in him.

Of her love for him.

Sitting in bed, in between his legs, leaning into his strong body with nothing but the thin 600 thread count sheets covering them, Solana sketches, no particular drawing in mind, just whatever is felt in that moment. And what’s felt is the image and scenery of the water, of the beauty that is Isla Mujeres. Her mom was right. There’s nothing like it.

“I think—I think I want to come back here sooner rather than later.” Solana finds herself partially wondering aloud but also wanting to pick her husband’s brain. “I know you probably won’t be able to come, and that’s okay. Maybe…maybe Bayley can come with me?” It’s both a suggestion and a question. 

Roman makes a sound against her, his lips lingering along her temple, long fingers moving gently against the side of her breast under the sheets. “Whatever you want, I’ll make happen. Bayley will go with you.”

Solana chews on her bottom lip, shading a palm tree. “But, what if she has plans?”

“She will. Plans to go with you.”

A small smile falls on her face. “How do you know she’ll just agree with you?” Solana has an idea of what he’s going to say, and she’s correct. 

“People do what I tell them to do, and if they don’t, they face the consequences. And no one wants that, so they just do it.” 

She doesn’t doubt that one bit. Because no matter how sweet and caring he is to her, that’s where it stops. With her.

Because to anyone and everyone else, he’s Roman Reigns, ruthless, brutal leader of the Bloodline.

And she’s accepted that. Accepted that he has to juggle two different hats.

She’s just happy she gets the best of him.

“I Facetime’d Naomi today and got to see Dulce.” As much fun as she’s having, as healing as this trip has been for her, she misses her sweet puppy deeply. “Guess who’s taken to her?”

Roman chuckles, looking back with a bit of shock. “Jimmy?”

Solana nods, grinning as she remembers overhearing Jimmy ask about where ‘fluff fluff’ is. “Naomi says he’s even got her sleeping in the bed with them.”

“Well, she damn sure ain’t doing that with us.” His voice takes on an authoritative tone. Not that she’s in disagreement. Dulce is too small for that. Roman would literally smother her. “Our bed is occupied.” He ghosts his lips over the shell of her earlobe. “Gonna be real busy when we get back home….”

Solana tries instead to focus on the drawing at hand versus that familiar feeling pooling in her stomach. 

Continuing with the topic in the hopes of settling that feeling, she shares, “I want to do something nice for Naomi and Bayley when we get back. They’ve—they’ve been so nice to me.”

It’s something she’s been thinking about ever since the beautiful birthday messages she’s received. Having never really had many friends, to be able to land such solid, loyal people like them is something she doesn’t take lightly. She doesn’t know quite yet how she wants to show her appreciation, but she’s determined to come up with something.

An idea crossing her mind, Solana suggests, “maybe they both can come stay here with me for a week?”

His mouth moves back to the side of her face. “Mmmhmm.”

“Like…..like a girls trip.” Solana has never experienced one of those and just the thought of having one with the two of them has pre-excitement already forming.

Roman sighs, clearly distracted by his lips exploring her face. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Turning her head to the side to look up at him, small smile on her face, Solana asks, “are you listening to me?”

Roman hums against her skin. “I’m always listening to you, Solana.” Her eyes flutter as his fingers shift and move under the generous swell of her breast. “Probably the only person that’s the case for…..” His mouth moves to her cheek. “But, it’s hard to focus with you naked like this…..”

The pencil in her hand naturally drops against the sketchbook, her head lolling backwards, lips pressing together. “Roman….” 

This is such a new experience. She’s never desired to be touched or craved such intimacy until Roman. Even with her trauma, there’s a pull that seems to have been unleashed with the consummation of her marriage.

An urge that has her thighs pressing together, something Roman most definitely takes note of. Eyes darkening with lust and something else, he asks, voice almost hoarse, “are you sore?”

She is, but not nearly as sore as she was after their first time. And certainly not to the point where she wants to decline.

“No,” is the answer she settles on, Roman’s lips on hers in a matter of seconds. She shifts her body so she’s straddling him, the feeling of him hard and warm between her legs making her moan in his mouth. Roman easily switches positions so she’s on her back, him hovering over her. 

He breaks the kiss, asking once more, “you sure?”

Solana licks her lips, forever thankful for his constant efforts to receive her consent. “Yes.”

His eyes burn with need. “Could be inside you like this all day….” He brings his hand to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg and opening her up more as he gradually descends into her slick warmth. “And definitely all night….”

Solana would be lying if she said she didn’t feel somewhat of the same way.

________

She wakes up with a growing familiar ache between her legs, soft sheets against her nude body, and her husband pressed against her, his arm draped over her, holding her close to him.

But, he’s not sleeping. She can feel his mouth hovering over her shoulder. Her smile grows a bit as she thinks about their last lovemaking session, so passionate and fulfilling. Another round of him giving her pleasure she didn’t think possible.

However, it’s when she glances at the clock and sees the time, her eyes widen a bit from the shock. “Roman, it’s almost 2 o’clock….”

He’s never been more uninterested. “And?” Lips traveling the length of her arm, he murmurs against her smooth skin. “You’d never leave this bed if it was up to me….”

His statement, half joking, half serious, makes her smile, but it also helps her realize she has to be a bit more outspoken about what she wants.

Holding the sheet against her chest, she rolls onto her back, informing, “I want to go out to the marketplace today.”

He scowls. “Around people?” 

“Yes, people.” She giggles, moving her hand to his face, beard tickling her palm. “We only have two more days here. I want to bring back gifts for Naomi, Bayley, and your cousins”

It’s the mention of the twins that makes him roll his eyes as he falls back into the mattress. “You always trying to take care of the homeless.”

Solana giggles, hovering over him, hand on his chest. “That’s so mean, Roman. They’re not homeless.”

“Then why the hell are they always at our house?”

She shakes her head, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna go get ready.” 

He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t prevent her from leaving the bed and doing just that.

And in less than two hours, both showered, fed, and dressed, they’re out of the house and on their way to the market.

Adolfo López Mateos is the municipal market and offers a trove of items for Solana to pick from. Countless authentic options for her to bring back home as gifts but also as souvenirs for herself, reminders of this wonderful place that will forever hold such beautiful memories for her.

A place that also leaves her feeling so connected to her maternal side. 

To her mother.

Roman serves as the quiet, always surveying husband who remains by her side the whole time as she goes from stall to stall. He serves as her personal shopping assistant as well, holding the growing number of bags for her purchases.

But, he handles it exceptionally well, never once complaining. Granted, she is mindful of the fact that the crowded market and all of the fellow shoppers and merchants seem to well exceed his tolerance for people in general.

So, she does make note to try to wrap it up sooner rather than later.

She’d never want to take advantage of his kindness and generosity.

Solana is at a stall looking at fabric when stiffening beside her drags her attention to her husband as well as what’s caused him to tense. 

A child.

A little girl. Around 8 or 9. She has dark hair that’s down and unruly, the light breeze in the market causing it to splash against her tanned face, hazel eyes landed directly on Roman. Her hand is outreached, a flower in hand. 

Solana recognizes it rather quickly. She steps forward, asking in Spanish, “is that for him?”

The little girl looks over and nods, directing her gaze back on Roman. Solana does the same, small smile on her face as she informs. “She’s giving it to you.” 

His expression is unchanged as he asks. “Why?”

Solana giggles. “It’s an Alstroemeria. They represent friendship.”

“This random ass kid wants to be my friend?”

Solana rolls her eyes. “She’s being friendly.” Seeing Roman has no intentions on further acknowledging this child, she gently shoves him. “Please?” The ‘for me?’ doesn’t need to be asked as Roman sighs loudly and accepts the flower followed up with a muttered ‘thanks.’

Pleased, the little girl beams, suddenly motioning both Roman and Solana to follow her.

Curious, Solana asks, “you want us to come?” 

She nods excitedly, pointing a few stalls down to where flowers bloom. Solana asks, “That’s where you got these from? You want us to see the rest?”

Another nod, and Solana finds herself following the child, Roman begrudgingly on the heel of her, committed to his not allowing her to explore a stretch of land or sea on this trip without him being right there next to her.

Even if it means forced socialization. 

Solana allows the child to guide them to the stall that’s filled with the most beautiful, intricate flowers she’s ever seen, some of which she recognizes from conversations with her mom.

“Look how beautiful…..” Her eyes land on the powder pink ones, a brief realization setting in as she asks the little girl, “are these sword lily’s?” 

Again, the child offers only a nonverbal acknowledgement via a head nod, and Solana starts to wonder if her silence is by choice or limitation. Either one, she can kind of relate to. 

Turning to Roman, Solana explains to him, “these are sword lilly’s. They represent sympathy and memories.” Memories…Solana has plenty of those. The good, to some extent, starting to outweigh the bad.

He looks more uninterested than the actual tone of his voice. “Do all Mexican flowers have some sort of meaning?”

“Some. Not all.” She answers, fingers gliding over the petals. “And it’s not always flowers native to Mexico, just flowers that we have meaning attributions for. Culturally.”

“You are correct.” A voice enters the conversation, Solana watching a woman step out back from behind the stall. Her hair is a deep onyx, thick and wavy, her skin lightly kissed by the sun that also highlights the beauty of her eyes. Fine lines give away that she has some years under her belt, but it’s hard to tell just how many. She switches languages, “You don’t speak Spanish like a tourist.”

Solana realizes she must have overheard her asking the girls about the flowers. “My—my mother was a Native.”

“She taught you well.” Her smile grows, warm and friendly, familiar in a weird sort of way. “What is your name, child?”

“Solana.” She gestures towards Roman who’s still looking just as uninterested as he’s been in any other type of social interaction outside of Solana. “This is my husband, Roman.”

“I figured.” She motions to Roman’s closeness to her, the way he stays almost hovering, protecting and caring but still pretty close. “He’s very protective of you.

Solana nods. She has no idea. “What is your name?”

“Paloma,” she introduces, removing one of her work gloves to shake Solana’s hand. The younger woman is slightly grateful that Paloma doesn’t try to greet Roman in the same manner. She’d surely get her feelings hurt. “What brings you here?

Again, a gesture to Roman with her thumb. “He surprised me for my birthday.”

Paloma makes a sound and smiles wryly. “Ahh, so it’s only others he’s unfriendly with.”

“He….he’s very quiet.” An ironic choice of words considering just who is saying them, but it’s the best word to come to mind to describe Roman without being mean. He is technically quiet, but the fact that it’s because he, in his own words, hates people isn’t necessarily something that needs to be shared. “Do you really grow all of these?”

“I do.” The proud smile on her face makes Solana smile just as warmly. “I own a nursery about twenty minutes out of here. A family business that my mother and her mother and her mother started generations ago.”

“That’s so beautiful.”

“It was….” The use of past tense causes Solana’s smile to dim a bit. She can sense there’s a story there, a story that no doubt holds some level of pain. Paloma shakes her head, gesturing to the flowers. “Were you wanting to buy any?”

“Uhhhh….” The technical answer is no. Solana would have probably stopped to admire the beautiful flowers, maybe tried to identify one or two, but it would not have gone beyond that. It’s the little girl who Solana realizes is behind the stand, poorly sneaking glances at Roman, who called them over. “Yes, I—”

“She brought you over, didn’t she?” 

“Yes.” Solana lowers her voice, asking as gently as she can. “Does she speak?”

“Yes, but she prefers not to. Very shy. Parents fight a lot. I don’t think she really gets a lot of space to talk.” And the frown is back. Solana can definitely understand that. “Do you two have plans tonight?”

“Uhhhh.” Solana turns to Roman, asking, “did you have anything else planned for us this evening?”

“If she’s trying to get us to do something around other people, yes. I’ll find something.”

Solana rolls her eyes, lightly scolding in her soft voice, “Roman, that’s not nice.”

“Solana, I’m pretty sure we had this conversation already. I don’t like people. I hate people. You’re the only one I like.”

Solana decides to win him over later versus now as she turns to Paloma with a friendly expression that contrasts her husband’s scowl. Something tells her he already knows she’s about to sign them up for something that forces him to be around people. 

“We’re free this evening. Why do you ask?”

________

“Tell me again why we’re meeting this random ass old woman for dinner?”

Solana is only seconds away from applying her lip gloss when Roman’s question deters her from her task, creating a new one in its place. Capping it, she walks out the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. “Her name is Paloma, and she’s really sweet, and she invited us.”

Turns out, Paloma owns one of the restaurants in town Solana remembers stumbling across when she was perusing other places to visit while on their trip. It’s just a crazy coincidence that Solana ended up running into her and receiving a personal invite to dine there for dinner this evening. 

And it’s an offer she didn’t want to turn down. 

“Are you sure she didn’t just invite you?”

Curious, she asks the question she’s almost certain she already knows the answer to. “Would you let me go by myself?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.” Walking over to Roman, Solana glides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck. “It’s just a dinner. We won’t even be there that long. Then…tomorrow, it’s just the two of us.”

“It could be the two of us tonight too….”

His fingers dance across the small of her back as she bites back a smile. “Roman, it’s been the two of us this entire trip already, basically….”

“You know I could never get enough of you…” He gently squeezes the sides of her stomach, sliding into reluctant acquiescence. “But, you know I can’t say no to you either so….”

She smiles and leans up and presses a kiss against his cheek, murmuring, “thank you.” Taking a bit of a mile with the inch she’s been given, she implores, “can you��.try to be a little more friendly? For me?”

Roman looks at her like she just asked him to let her go alone. “Solana….”

“Just for tonight.”

“Do they even speak English?” She gives him a look that’s just another form of ‘for me?’ He tilts his head back and scratches his beard. “I’ll try not to maim or kill anybody. That’s the best you’re getting from me, baby.”

“Thank you.” She kisses him again, turning for the bathroom when he pulls her back to face him, and right away, she recognizes that look. “Roman….”

He ignores her, both casually and suggestively complimenting, “I like this dress.” It’s combined with him slowly moving one of the hands on her waist down the length of her dress until he can slip his hand underneath.

“T–thank you…” She swallows, struggling to stay focused. “We’re—we’re gonna be late.”

“Too bad.” He moves his hand between her legs, gradually sliding up her thighs. “Should have thought about that before you put this on.” He kisses her temple, asking in a low voice, “do you want me to stop?” At the same time, his hand pauses on her skin.

The logical answer is yes, but the carnal answer is the complete opposite. And desire seems to overpower logic in this round. “N–no.”

It’s the perfect answer for her husband whose full lips form into a smirk as he removes his hand to guide her towards the bed as he lays her on her back. Solana half expects him to move on top of her, but he instead moves to his knees and tugs her toward the edge of the bed.

The anticipation of what pleasure is to come makes her lick her lips, prematurely moaning his name, “Roman…”

His brown eyes flick up to her, desire and lust dancing away in his irises. 

Yeah, they’re most definitely going to be late.

________

The night goes as expected, Solana enjoying herself, and Roman enjoying that his wife is enjoying herself despite the fact that being surrounded by a bunch of fucking strangers who speak mostly in Spanish has him subtly checking the time on his watch more often than not.

The desire to pick up the language grows exponentially. Roman dislikes being out of the loop in any sort of capacity.

Solana translates for the most part, granted it’s mostly things he doesn’t really care too much about. Paloma asking what he thought about the food, requests to join in the dancing—that’s a hell no—and other pleasantries that violate his religion of Anti-Peopleology. 

Except his wife, of course.

And to be fair, they’re able to share their dinner together without many interruptions, conversation staying between the two of them, which he appreciates. He’d appreciate it more if no one was there to interrupt, but alas, Solana having a smile on her face almost the whole night makes it all worth it.

She seems exceptionally taken with the little random ass girl from the market whose name he doesn’t bother to remember. Something with an A, he’d guess. She also seems just as interested in Solana, which he doesn’t entirely not understand. She’s relatively mute with the exception of a couple of words and sentences.

It reminds him of Solana and how nonverbal she was at the beginning of the marriage. And something tells him the girl also reminds her of herself. Which makes the pull between the two make more sense than maybe he’d like to admit.

But, his inner dialogue is interrupted as the old lady approaches the table where he sits alone as Solana dances with the child, both of them smiling and laughing. 

“You’re not the social one of the two of you, are you?” She asks what he considers both a stupid and ironic question. Typically, Solana isn’t this social either. But this….this place….it seems to bring out a different side of her.

A happier side of her.

Roman only casts the old woman a bored glance. “This is her world. Not mine.”

The woman chuckles, and to Roman’s chagrin, sits down in the chair opposite of him. “Yes, I suppose this is very different from the Bloodline.”

Her statement doesn’t surprise him, doesn’t take him off guard, and that’s because Roman isn’t stupid. He would never allow some practical stranger to invite his wife for dinner at a restaurant she owns without researching her. 

Paloma Aguilar. 70. Widowed. One child who seemingly disappeared without a trace over twenty years ago. Her late husband, Ricardo, was a man who at one point entered the world of the cartel and smuggling, but it was short lived as he passed away from a heart attack at the age of 45. His brother, however, Tomas, is still actively involved, but Paloma couldn’t be farther removed.

From his research, Roman could see she truly prefers to live her life away from the in-laws business, preferring her restaurant and gardening, the polar opposite of the high-paced crime life. 

But, it would be ludicrous for her to not be aware of him and who he is, regardless of her preference to stay separate from that life.

Curious, though he already knows the answer, he asks, “when did you realize who I was?”

She smiles, “soon enough.” The lack of specificity annoys him even more than he already is. “Probably around the time you found out who I am.”

Interested to see how she’ll respond, he asks, “and just who are you?”

Her smile is small and sad. “Just an old woman living out the rest of her days in solitude.” Roman has experienced enough loss to be able to recognize when someone else has also had the misfortune of losing someone. It’s evident in her tone. 

Still, that doesn't diminish his disinterest in this conversation.

She also looks over at his dancing wife, casually commenting, “I suppose it’s true that opposites attract.”

Eager to stir this woman away, Roman responds with all the casualness. “I’m not Solana. You could be 90, and I’d still snap your fucking neck if you presented any kind of threat to my wife.”

It’s uncalled for. He knows this. A misplaced threat against an elderly woman, sure. But, it’ll hopefully be enough to get her to leave him the fuck alone. 

She smiles, partially surprising him. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, young man.” Her grin dims a bit. “I would never judge a man for protecting the woman he loves.”

Roman tenses, effectively managing to keep his reaction to her statement to himself.

Love

What the fuck is that even?

He knows…..familial love. But….romantic love? 

That’s….that’s such an unfamiliar concept. Something not even in his repertoire. 

He can’t deny that he likes Solana. A lot. Cares for her deeply, and recognizes that he needs her in his life. Needs her light in what is otherwise dark and dreary.

But…..

To say that he loves her….that’s too much. That’s too strong.

Too dangerous.

Love is weakness.

And Roman can’t afford to be weak. He won’t. Not for anything or anyone. 

Not even Solana.

But, of course, this old ass woman just has to twist the knife even deeper as she stands up to leave. “You two will make great parents.” Roman is an expert at hiding reactions to what’s being said to him, but this one takes some effort. A lot, if he’s being honest. “Your protectiveness. Her nurturance.”

With that, she finally leaves him be, but not without a million and one thoughts floating through his mind, all of them now revolving around two things he’s never considered for himself.

Love and children.

________

As the night comes to an end, Solana pulls Aurora, the sweet little girl who’s taken a liking to her and a crush on Roman, to the side. 

“I have something for you.”

Aurora’s eyes light up with all the excitement of a child eager to receive an unexpected present.

Solana hands over the beautiful journal she picked up in the market earlier that day. Originally a gift for herself, but now something that she wants to pass on to the little girl who reminds her so much of herself. 

Aurora’s mouth drops open with surprise as she accepts the leather journal. Solana smiles and explains, “When I was a little girl, I didn’t talk a lot either. But, my mom always told me that when I couldn’t speak, I could always write.” She frowns a bit, instructing. “And that’s what I did. I wrote until I found my voice. The same way you can.”

Aurora looks up with teary eyes and surprises Solana by attacking her with a big hug. Solana easily settles in the embrace, holding and hugging the little girl in a way that every child should be comforted.

Aurora pulls back and offers a simple, “thank you!”

Solana blinks back some tears. “You’re very welcome.” Her smile shifts into something teasing but also hopeful, “now I expect to see you when I come back to visit, okay?”

Aurora nods happily as she gives Solana one more hug before running over to an older woman who Solana would guess is her mother.

“She’ll never forget that, you know.” 

Turning to the source of the voice, Solana’s smile grows. “I hope not.”

Paoma chuckles and moves closer, repeating the same words. “I have something for you too.”

She pulls out a cloth jewelry bag and takes Solana’s hand, placing the bag in it. “Open it.”

Confused but curious, Solana does just that and gasps almost immediately at the beautiful gold necklace she recognizes instantly. “A Cruz de Caravaca.”

Paloma looks pleased by Solana’s knowledge and asks a follow up question. “How much do you know about these?”

Swallowing the emotion, she recalls the information taught to her so long ago. “They—they ward off evil and bring protection.” There’s an almost bitter tone that enters her voice. “My mother had one….” It’s the most Solana can bring herself to say, because her mother wore one almost religiously. And it did nothing to protect her from the evil of her father.

Or the knife that viciously tore and sliced through her body, violently ending her life. 

Paloma nods, complementing, “whoever taught you our ways taught you well.” 

Emotion burning the back of the throat, “it was my mom. She—she died when I was young.” Murdered. She was murdered, but acknowledging that feels too much, is too much. Regardless of how her life ended, it all means the same.

That she’s not here anymore.

Paloma’s expression is solemn as she lifts her right arm, turning it inward, revealing her tattoos. Two Hummingbirds. “Many years ago, I lost my daughter. And shortly after, my husband. I—I didn’t really know how to go on after that. She was my only child, and he was the only man I ever loved.” Her smile is emotional. “But then I remember that love never dies, it transcends into another form. They’re not here in the way I want them to be, but they’re still here. And every so often when I’m in my garden, I see Hummingbirds, and I feel better because I know they’re still with me. Watching over me.” 

Solana wipes at her eyes as Paloma places a comforting hand on her arm. “And so is your mother.”

It’s hard to verbalize what she’s feeling in this moment. Paloma’s words provide her with a type of comfort that feels almost motherly, an ironic feeling considering the nature of the conversation.

“Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing that doesn’t feel strong enough for how much Solana appreciates such comforting words of support. 

“You have a good heart. A kind soul. But, be careful child.” She takes Solana’s hands in her own. “My….my daughter was like you. Loving and giving. But too trusting, and it cost her her life. Betrayal and darkness can come from where you least expect it.” 

Paloma’s words confuse her. The warning aspect of it. What…what exactly does that mean?

“Stick with that husband of yours….” Paloma adds, smile gradually returning. “He is protective of you the way my husband used to be with me.” 

That ebbs away some of her confusion regarding the ominous warning, as Solana suddenly asks, almost tentatively. “Could I….could I come back and see you too?”

Paloma chuckles, and Solana almost swears she sees emotion brewing behind the woman’s wise gaze as she pulls her in for a hug.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t, child….”

________

He’s not entirely surprised to find her in the kitchen, but that doesn’t necessarily make her presence in the kitchen any less concerning. Especially when she’s supposed to be on bedrest.

Roman comes up behind her, smiling when she jumps a bit as he hugs her. Years later, some things remain the same. 

Solana turns around, a warm smile on her pretty face. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Not necessarily. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to find it in him to be sorry for touching his wife.“Hi.”

“Hi.” She giggles as he kisses her. 

Eyes shutting a bit as he relishes in the feeling he’s craved dearly for the past few weeks. “I missed you all.”

“We missed you too,” she murmurs, moving her hands up his chest. “You look tired.”

He’s a bit jet lagged, but it’s nothing he won’t bounce back from in a couple of days. That’s the least of his concern, anyway. Roman moves his hand to her stomach, big and swollen, pressing against his abs. “You should be resting.”

Solana rolls her eyes and calmly counters, “not with how active this one is.” She moves his hand around, probably trying to find a spot where he can feel the movement. “He’s definitely your son.”

He counters, “even more reason to be resting.” 

She shakes her head, changing the subject a bit as she softly shares, “they’ll be happy to see you. I didn’t tell them you were coming home early.”

His eyes light up a bit as he asks, “where are they?”

Solana chuckles. “You already know.”

Roman makes a sound and nods, murmuring with a final kiss to her temple, “I’ll be back.” 

He walks out of the kitchen and into the hall, moving to the back of the house.

Two separate rooms, directly across from one another, each providing a variety of different activities and spaces. Most completely opposite one another. Expected, given their staunchly different personalities.

There’s no active decision regarding which room he walks in first, no specific desire to see or interact with one over the other. He just so happens to venture left vs right. 

And sure enough, as predicted, she sits at the table, so small but perfect for her. She’s focused on the paper in front of her and crayon in her hand. So focused to the point where she misses his entrance, doesn’t overhear his footsteps until he’s only a few feet away from her.

But when she does, big brown eyes landing on him, eyes that are exact replicas of her mothers, the crayon is dropped and the smile is out. She jumps up from the seat and runs over to him, Roman leaning down just in time to catch her hug, an instant ease washing over him, deeper than what’s allotted even with his wife.

This is something different, something deeper, something he still doesn’t quite know or believe he deserves to feel. But nevertheless, it’s present, it’s felt, and it’s wonderful.

When she pulls away, he finds himself pushing back some of her curls, light and fluffy, framing her face that’s the perfect combination of himself and Solana. “I missed you…” Her smile grows as he asks, eyes narrowed a bit. “Were you a good girl for your mom while I was gone?” She nods excitedly and reaches for his hand, Roman standing as she guides him over to the table where she was drawing. Roman crouches back down as she shares her artwork, an in-progress photo of the ocean, most likely scenery she’s memorized from one of their many trips to Isla Mujeres. “Is this what you’re working on?” Again, another nod as she points between the drawing and him. He points to himself. “Is this gonna be for me?”

Instead of the expected no, she answers in her voice, so soft and light. “I’m sorry it wasn’t done in time….”

A small smile grows on his face. She’s very much unlike her sister, of very few words. So much so that Roman insisted he and Solana discuss her quietness with the pediatrician to make sure nothing was wrong. And of course, nothing was. It’s just that she inherited quite literally Solana’s entire disposition. Quiet with a great big heart that seems too pure for this world.

And, unfortunately, a tendency to apologize when unnecessary.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” His praise seems to bring back her smile as he kisses her forehead. “Fa'afetai tele.”

She matches his smile, surprising him yet again with more spoken words vs non verbals. “E le afaina.” 

Standing back up, he informs, “I’m gonna go see your sister. Can you go help mom finish cooking dinner?” He knows Solana is almost done, if not already, but Roman also knows that personality and disposition weren’t the only things inherited. So were passions and interests, hence the drawing.

And cooking, judging by the way her eyes light up as she dashes out the room to play assistant.

Roman chuckles and walks out, hitting the switch as he moves across the hall, once again unsurprised by what he finds. She’s going at it with the freestanding punching bag, kicks that are pretty impressive considering her age. Her face is scrunched up in determination, the same face as her sisters yet so different. 

Where one is soft and quiet, the other is loud and bold. One is timid, the other adventurous. One is Solana, but this one….she’s her father’s daughter, through and through. Bold and fearless. 

“Don’t forget to point your toes.”

His deep voice breaks through her concentration as she whips her head to the side, a reaction similar to her twin sister. A huge smile breaks through that impressive focus.

“Daddy!”

Again, he moves to one knee to catch her for a hug, tight and heartwarming. She pulls back almost immediately, asking with all the excitement. “Did you see me?”

“I sure did.” He comments on what’s more than obvious. “you’ve been practicing.”

She nods with just as much excitement. “Aunt Bayley and Aunt Naomi said I’m really good!”

“You are.” He wouldn’t lie to her. She is. But, he also knows it’s because this is her passion. Where her sister finds joy in art and books, she gets that joy from movement, from fighting, her gravitation towards martial arts happening at such a young age. 

“I’m gonna be better than you!” He chuckles. At not even a fraction of his age, she already is. And it has nothing to do with her natural fighting abilities. 

“We’ll see.”

“I am!” She affirms, so determined and focused. “I’m gonna wear the ula fala and be Tribal Chief just like you, daddy!”

Roman does his best to keep that small ounce of concern hidden and tucked away. Young. She’s too young to know just what she’s asking for, the weight that comes with what he does, the truth about what and who he is.

It’s been the decision of both himself and Solana to shield the girls from it. The truth of it all. For now. As long as they can, at least. But the girls aren’t dumb either, they know he holds a high rank, one of the highest, in his family.

And his spitfire of a daughter seems determined to do the exact same.

“Cousin Jamar was saying I can’t cause I’m a girl, but I told him he’s just a stupid boy and I’m way smarter anyway.”

Roman’s eyes narrow slightly as asks the question he already knows the answer to. “And you hit him too, didn’t you?”

Even when he has to be away from home, Solana makes sure to keep him informed of all happenings with the girls, especially this one who’s already gotten in trouble a couple of times at school for her mouth.

And fist.

Her eyes drop as she pouts slightly, murmuring, “he made me mad….” His temper. She definitely has inherited that too. “No one talks about me, you, mommy, sissy or my new baby brother, or I’ll punch them in their face.”

This is the part where Roman struggles, where he tries his best to tap into that part of him that feels so unfamiliar. Because his initial response is that she did nothing wrong, that she’s doing exactly what she’s entitled to.

Protecting her family and standing up for what she believes is right. 

“It’s important to know when to fight, and it’s a lot harder not to sometimes.” That’s the best he can come up with in the moment to not necessarily let her know he doesn’t see much of an issue with her behavior. “I’ll teach you.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. “I get to train with you?” A request she’s had for at least the past two years, Roman pushing it off and allowing Bayley and Naomi to help her because his level of training is far too intense for her young age.

But

That doesn’t mean he can’t modify his approach a bit. 

“Yes!” She jumps up and down, hugging him, another small smile on Roman’s face. Some kids like to play dolls, like his other daughter, but this one….this one lives for a good fight.

And speaking of, the calmer of the two of them coming running into the room, Roman turning just in time as she smiles and tugs on his shirt, motioning for them to follow her.

“Is dinner ready?” Learning to understand her even with the absence of speech has come second nature for all of them. 

She nods, as the other one breaks the hug with Roman, asking her twin with all the excitement and competitiveness. “Wanna race?”

Roman already knows the answer, watching as his more quiet child is suddenly waiting for her sister to count them off. Seconds later, the two of them rush out the room on a trajectory that’ll lead to Solana who will no doubt chastise them for running in the house.

But they come back, giggling together as they stand in the doorway, hitting him with both a question and a demand. 

“Daddy, are you coming?”

“Daddy, wake up!”

Roman shoots up from the bed, hulking shoulders moving up and down in sync with his heavy breathing. Movement to the side of him shows him Solana shifting in her sleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

It’s the exact opposite of how he feels. 

Moving his hand through his silky, wavy locks, Roman takes the blanket off of him and carefully moves out the bed, prioritizing not disturbing his wife. 

He blows out a breath and walks out the double doors that bring him to the patio, his big body settling down on one of the chaise lounges.

It’s only then he asks himself the burning question at the back of his mind.

What the fuck was that?

Roman doesn’t really dream a lot, and when he does, they’re more along the lines or nightmares.

Night terrors when he was younger.

But this……he doesn’t even know what the fuck that was.

Children.

Roman has never really seen himself as a father, never allowed himself to think about it because it’s never really been a desire. He’s always known that he would have to create an heir to carry on his legacy, but that’s a thing of duty. Not desire.

So why the fuck is he dreaming about having not one but several children with Solana?

Solana….

Her oath a few weeks back of giving him an heir returns to the front of his mind. It makes him wonder all of sudden what her view on children is. Does she want children? Without inside knowledge of her trauma, one would think that’s an obvious thing. She would have never married him, never agreed to the arrangement when the sole purpose of the union was to create a child if she didn’t, in fact, want a child. 

But, Roman knows her, knows her trauma. Knows that she was forced into this.

Which makes him incapable of shooting down the possibility that maybe she doesn’t even want children?

And then he thinks about her tonight, thinks about the permanent smile on her face as she interacted with that little girl, the way she interacted with several of the children present who came up to her.

She looked….she looked happy. 

Content.

And of course, the now haunting words of the old woman who Solana also seems to have heavily gravitated towards: 

“You two will make great parents.”

Thinking about and being completely honest with himself, he sees it for Solana. Could….could see her as a mother.

But seeing himself as a father….that’s something he can’t answer. Can’t understand, really. 

The same way he can’t understand why there’s a small part of him that’s upset he woke up.

Upset that the dream didn’t last just a little bit longer. 

Upset that he’s now thinking heavily about what the old lady predicted.

Himself and Solana as parents. 

Fuck.

First the love comment, now this?

Damn that old woman.

________

Something is off with Roman.

Solana has noticed it ever since the night of the dinner at Paloma’s restaurant. She figured it was maybe because Roman really can only withstand so much social interaction. Chalked it up to him needing the night to sleep it off.

But, it was there the next day and the day after that and even as their trip in Isla Mujeres came to an end. 

On the jet ride back home, he’s quiet, working diligently on his work laptop. She tries her best not to think too much of it, because it’s not like he’s ignoring her. He still talks to her, still interacts with her, still touches her, but it’s just….off.

There’s like this….this distance that she can’t understand.

A distance that hurts. 

It’s why she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to not get too into her head over her dress. It’s probably the most risqué thing she’s ever worn, more skin showing than she would prefer to be exposed. But, a small part of her hopes it will catch Roman’s attention.

Hopes it can progress the touches into something more.

Because along with his distant behavior, there’s been a lack of intimacy between them. And that’s especially hard for her to not think too much about. Because, to her, it was going well. She….she enjoys being with him in that way. Being that close to him.

She thought he did too.

Roman suddenly knocks on the bathroom door, asking, “you almost—damn.” Him stopping himself puts a smile on her face. 

Solana chews on her bottom lip, asking, “do–do you like it?” She then motions to her chest that’s heavily exposed. “I know it’s—it’s a lot.”

Roman moves closer to her, eyes raking over her slowly, hand moving to the back of her, under her dress, cupping her ass. “You sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?” A small smile starts to form on her face at his suggestive tone. “The two of us…naked.”

Her stomach flutters with excitement. This is the first time in days that he’s expressed any desire to be with her in that way, and now she’s beyond grateful that she pushed past her insecurity and put on the dress. Because it’s brought out that side of him that she’s been missing.

The side that makes her feel like he wants her.

A hand on his chest, she murmurs, “when we get back.”

Because while she also has a desire to be intimate with him, she’s also excited to see their friends.

Naomi, Bayley, and the twins inviting her (and naturally, Roman) out to a VIP lounge to have a belated birthday celebration since she wasn’t available to do anything with them for her actual birthday. She’s excited to see them, to be around her friends. 

“Are you….” Solana doesn't know where exactly it comes from, the bravery and confidence to ask what she’s about to, but it seems to leave her mouth before she can really think too much about it. “Are you okay?”

His gaze takes a curious tone. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, suddenly nervous about how to word it right. “I don’t know. You’ve just seemed….kinda off the past couple days.” He swallows, and she sees something flash in his eyes, something he shoves away. Something she’s now just as curious about. “Is–”

“I’m fine,” he answers. For some reason, she has a hard time believing that. “Adjusting to being back has just been irritating. I’ve never taken a vacation before, so shit has just been an annoying adjustment.”

Solana nods, believing there could be some truth to that. She doesn’t doubt it’s been an adjustment for him. But, there’s also this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that there’s something else he’s not telling her.

“O-okay.” Something tells her this conversation will need to be revisited, just not right now. Not when it’s clear he has no desire to express whatever is really bothering him.

Roman dips his head and kisses her cheek. “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can be inside you.” She giggles, gasping as he slaps her ass. 

“Roman!”

________

The lounge is beautiful. Reminiscent of an upscale club, minus the packed bodies and loud music. It’s clearly geared toward upscale clientele, and the second level of the lounge has been rented out, space cleared for their small party.

Something she greatly appreciates. Both for herself and Roman. Her husband already sacrificed so much of his preference to be isolated from others vs surrounded by people on their trip. 

The group separates naturally, Roman and the twins with Solana sitting near Bayley and Naomi, the two women nearly bursting at the seams with a ton of questions/statements.

“How was it?”

“We already know it was nice considering we barely heard from you.”

“Dulce mama was out here living her best life.”

“You got a lil tan too!”

“We want to know everything.”

Solana giggles, shrugging. “It was really nice.”

Bayley scoffs, “just nice? Girl, you gotta give us more than that.”

Solana opens her mouth, pausing a bit. “I mean….we spent a lot of time together.” Her eyes fall over to Roman who’s surprisingly engaging in conversation with Jimmy and Jey. Solo, as well. His presence surprised her. 

She didn’t know he was coming. Not to mention, she didn’t think he’d want to be present for anything that’s not required when it comes to her.

“And?”

Solana knows they’re not intentionally asking about sex, but their questions are unintentionally pointing her to share just that. And for some reason, most likely the trust and bond she’s formed with them, she’s not opposed.

That doesn’t stop the maddening blush from forming on her cheeks as she shares, “we—well, we finally, umm—”

Loud gasps interrupt her, Naomi being the one to ask the infamous question, “Solana, did ya’ll….” Solana chews on her bottom lip, nodding softly.

Bayley and Naomi have to cover their mouths to hold in the screams that would no doubt draw all of the wrong attention.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Bayley exclaims, suddenly asking with all the protectiveness, “he was good to you, right? Didn’t pressure you—”

“No. No. Never.” That’s probably the easiest thing to answer. Solana doesn’t know how to properly express how good Roman was to her. Has been to her. “He was—it was perfect.”

Naomi smirks, playfully nudging Solana’s shoulder. “We told you it was great with the right person.” They couldn’t have been more right. “So….was it just once or—”

Bayley scoffs. “We cannot be asking her all these intimate details!” Only to then casually ask, “so like how big is his dick really?”

Naomi falls out laughing while Solana’s eyes widen at the graphic nature of Bayley’s question. 

“So you can ask about his dick size, but I can’t ask about how many times they’ve done it?”

Bayley protests, sipping some of her Vodka as she counters, “my question is for science.”

“Bullshit!” 

Solana shakes her head, giggling as she coyly answers, “we…it’s been a couple times.”

Naomi smirks. “Okay, girl, I see you. Ya’ll went to Mexico and got freaky.” Solana takes a sip of her bottled water, more than certain her cheeks are a red, hot mess. “Seriously though….I’m happy for you. With what you’ve been through, you deserve to have a happy, healthy, sex life. Every woman does.”

“She’s right.” Bayley agrees, and Solana finds the emotions brewing again. 

Never did she think it was possible, that she could have just that. A healthy sex life. Just how she never imagined she would end up with someone as amazing as Roman. Yet both of those things are exactly what have happened, and she’s never been happier. 

“Wait, does this mean we’re gonna be godmothers soon?” Bayley asks an otherwise normal question that has Solana still in her seat. 

Naomi chimes, “I mean, she’s not allowed to be on birth control, and I know Roman had to have broken his condom only rule since they’re married so….”

Solana has a hard time saying anything, has a hard time not thinking about something that should have been considered the moment that barrier was broken.

Roman and Solana have consummated their marriage.

They’ve had sex. 

Several times.

Unprotected sex.

They are actively having unprotected sex.

Naomi is right in that not once did Roman bring up protection. 

It has her wondering now if he didn’t bring it up because, in his mind, they’re now working on creating an heir?

But, she dispels that theory pretty quickly, remembering how determined he was to help her not feel any pressure regarding them conceiving a child. He’s never seemed too concerned with that part of their marriage deal.

Unless….

Unless it was because they weren’t sexually active, but now that they are….

Suddenly, another conversation with Roman regarding just what the plan is for that is on the agenda.

Along with whatever it is that’s bothering him that he won’t open up about. 

Bayley and Naomi must pick up on her change and mood, switching the conversation to something regarding some mess that kicked off at the Warehouse between Nia and some person named Mia. Solana does her best to follow along when she feels her phone vibrate in her bag. 

Pulling it out, she unlocks her phone and opens up messages, specifically the unopened thread from an unsaved number.

Unknown: Did you really think you would get away with fucking us over?

Unknown: You were warned.

Unknown: What happens next is on you.

The phone drops out of Solana’s hand the minute she’s done reading the text. She can barely breathe, barely process what’s happening as her head snaps up, eyes frantically searching for the one person who’s now been kicked to the front of her mind.

Roman

She spots him, expression unreadable as he sips on a beer, speaking to Solo.

Solana jumps up from the sofa, ignoring Naomi and Bayley asking what’s wrong. She kicks her heels off and makes a beeline straight for him, uncaring about the bodies she has to squeeze between, the few individuals who she actually shoves out of her way. Something at any other time she wouldn’t dare consider doing. But this isn’t any other time, this is life or death.

Literally.

“Roman!”

His eyes snap with hers seconds before she successfully makes her way over to him. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. She can barely breathe, and she’s certain that she’s trembling, but none of that stops her from rushing out, “we have to get out of here!”

His hands move to her face, cupping it, taking note of her frantic state as he asks with all of the protectiveness. “What’s wrong?”

Eyes watering, she opens her mouth. “I—”

That’s as far as it goes, the most and only thing that she’s able to express because before she’s cut off. Roman’s gaze lifts above her and the last thing she sees is the slight widening of his eyes as he shoves her to the side of him with so much force that she slams against the ground, her head bouncing off the carpeted floor.

But, that’s not what catches her attention. Not the shock of him pushing her so harshly, putting his hands on her in a way she would have never thought possible. No, that’s not an issue at all, because the sound that only seems to have registered upon her fall is what has her attention snatched and fixated.

A single sound that she hasn’t heard in years.

A gunshot. 

And then chaos.

There’s shouts, there’s screams, there’s people running around in a mass panic, but a single voice cuts through all of that: clear, loud, furious. “Get her out of here now!”

Roman.

And it’s the sound of his voice that makes Solana snap her head to the side, eager to lay eyes on him in the midst of this chaos.

But, it’s when she does that everything changes, the world stops and time stands still.

“No.” She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move, can’t function because all she can focus on is the sight of Roman’s men with a perimeter around him, guns lifted and aimed, ready to fire off at a moment's notice. “Roman!” She tries to climb up off the floor, tries to get to him, to see him, to touch him. 

Solana is unable to look away from the sight of him holding onto his shoulder, face grimaced in pain, blood seeping through his long fingers.

But before can get to him, before she can actually touch him, another voice calls out, “cover me!” And she’s suddenly off the floor, body pressed against a stranger, the interaction causing her to try to jerk away. 

Partially because of the contact, mostly because she needs to get to Roman.

“We gotta get you out of here!” Solo’s voice, harsh and determined, makes her realize he’s the strange body that she also now realizes is trying to get her the hell out of dodge. “Now!”

And it’s right then and there that another gunshot rings out, followed by several more.

Solana’s panic nearly triples as she tries to push him away, tears burning her eyes, “no! I’m not leaving him!” Solana beats her fist against Solo as he continues to drag her, Solana begging, “don’t make me leave him!” The tears are spilling over, the last glimpse of Roman showing Jimmy and Jey rushing over in his direction. “Please!” Solana continues to cry out his name, fighting a losing battle against Solo who is successful in ushering her out of the emergency exit located in the back. 

Once outside, he has to keep dragging her down the fire escape staircase, because she doesn’t stop trying to push him away and doesn't stop from trying to get back to Roman. Solana can’t stop replaying the nightmare that has just become a reality. 

She has no idea where Naomi is. Where Bayley is. Only able to see the twins and Roman before she was ripped away from the scene.

Roman….

He pushed her to protect her.

Moved her out the line of fire and took the bullet intended for her.

He’s been shot because of her.

He’s been hurt because of her.

And it’s all her fault.

[wareagleofthemountain]

Here’s a compilation of all my behind the scenes HCs that I imagine Thranduil and his queen shared in their domestic lives

Being that they often stayed up late working on paperwork, battle strategies, and other royal duties, Thranduil and his wife had a mental cookbook of DIY recipes. This came from the countless times they’ve whipped up a last minute dish made from leftovers at 2 AM. Including desserts and, as a law, they feed each other a spoonful of whipped cream whenever one of them takes the container out.

Thranduil’s wife loves to tease him for having a “Doriath accent” whenever he speaks in Elvish. Which he of course passes on to Legolas. Sometimes, when he’s pronounced a word particularly heavy in his Doriath inflection, she’ll chuckle and repeat it back to him just as he said it so he can’t deny his accent as he always does. But, for all her teasing, she thinks his speech is adorable.

Thranduil has a slightly lopsided smirk due to the burn scars on the right side of his face. Even with his masking spell, the right half of his lip droops down when he smiles.

Thranduil’s wife always takes care when approaching him on his blind side, touching his shoulder and gently brushing her body against his side to make him known of her presence before she speaks lest she startle him.

Thranduil wears low cut v-necks at his wife’s request. She loved to brush her fingers over his collarbone whenever she passed him as a sign of affection so he made it a point to keep that area accessible to her.

No personal space for the queen. Although she had her own throne, Thranduil much preferred to hold her in his lap with his chin atop her head during meetings.

Every night before bed and every morning before breakfast, Thranduil rests his head in his wife’s lap and holds her free hand as the other works healing salve into his scars. She’s the only one, besides his healers when he’d first been burned, that he allows himself to drop his protective shield around. He was fearful at first that she may be put off by what she saw, but she only loved that part of him fiercely and shamelessly.

Thranduil’s elk and the queen are very close. He often follows her around whenever she goes for a walk, and he’ll still try to follow her even when Thranduil is trying to ride him in a different direction. The king will have to tug on his reigns and put in a good deal of effort to get his mount on a different path.

The white gems were a just because gift for his wife, as Thranduil was so thankful to be married to her that he often surprised her with gifts.

When meetings become long and dull without any important topics being discussed, Thranduil and his wife will entertain themselves by passing a paper back and forth. The rest assume that they are just taking notes, but really they’re drawing. Someone starts on the picture and they pass it around, adding on to it until the meeting is over. The end result is always interesting and Thranduil has a locked drawer in his office where he keeps them.

The queen and baby Legolas often drop by the king’s throne room and bring him flowers they’ve picked while out on a walk.

The night Thranduil was crowned king, before his official ceremony, his wife and son crowned him in their bedchamber after everyone had finished getting dressed. They didn’t have a silken red carpet so the queen rolled out a long red bath towel. They didn’t have a royal scepter so toddler Legolas fetched a branch he’d brought inside. But they did have the crown, so Thranduil took a knee before his wife and she said, “by the power vested in me by Prince Legolas Greenleaf of the woodland realm, I name you king Thranduil Oropherion. Leader, protector, and defender of our land.” She placed the crown atop his head, Legolas tapped his shoulders with the stick, and Thranduil tackle hugged them both. He’d never felt more like a king than in that moment, and he always considered this his true right to rule.

The king and queen dislike being apart longer than absolutely necessary, and never tire of each other’s company. The queen considers their marriage as having an eternal sleepover with her best friend. Which is accurate as I think they have been close since childhood.

They made a game of hiding one of Legolas’s stuffed toys in various places around the palace. Once it’s found, it’s the other’s turn to hide it.

They can’t sleep unless they’re cuddling.

Whenever someone new moves into their kingdom, Thranduil and his wife make them a welcome gift basket filled with local plants and foods, as well as a few household staples.

The couple are good friends with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. However, the Queen and Celebrian are on another level. They’re practically sisters and declare a “no boys allowed” hang out session whenever they visit. They just wanna drink wine, try on dresses, and plot to take over the world (but you didn’t hear that from me).

When they were pregnant, the ladies took turns hosting vacation weekends at their estates.

Thranduil gets rather possessive of his wife when around human men, keeping his arm wrapped around her at all times and glaring if someone stares at her a moment too long. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s just that he knows human males aren’t as well mannered as elven men. Plus they tend to stare more and he hates that. Same for dwarves.

They rarely ever argue as the couple has always made it a point in their relationship to be open with one another. There is truly nothing that can’t be discussed between them.

The first time the queen saw how terrifying and brutal Thranduil could be in a battle, she was actually quite scared and it took him a few days to ease her back into feeling comfortable around him.

Whenever they go out for a ride in winter, Thranduil always seats her on the saddle in front of him and hides her in his cloak with her back pressed against his warm chest.

He’s definitely the type to shamelessly check out his wife from atop his throne as she walks by. They also playfully flirt with one another whenever they can.

Thranduil loves to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist.

Sad, but the Queen’s body had been so brutalized by orcs that there was not enough of it to bring back for a proper burial, so Thranduil ordered the statue be built in place of a grave. On his worst nights, when he’s absolutely sure no one is around and fails to drink himself to sleep, he’ll curl up on the forest floor at the foot of the statue for some sort of comfort in order to close his eyes. He also sometimes pays it a visit just to plant more flowers and tell it about his day or how much Legolas has grown. Obviously he knows it’s an inanimate object, but he misses her so much.

He and the Queen have an inside joke involving Elros. Thranduil had hired the guard himself without the presence of his wife, so it wasn’t until the next day that Elros encountered the Queen while standing watch at Thranduil���s side during a public audience. The Queen was never one for formality so she was easily mistaken by him as a commoner due to her simple attire. When she’d attempted to step out onto the stage beside her husband as he spoke, Elros drew his blade and told her that she was standing too close to the king. Now, sometimes when she’s standing near Thranduil, she’ll take a few steps back and say “wouldn’t want to stand too close to his Majesty” with a wink. It makes Thranduil grin in amusement and Elros blush terribly.

Thranduil is constantly holding his wife’s hand.

During holidays, the queen sees to decorating the palace herself and always comes up with at least one fun craft for her and Thranduil to try each season.

[fromchaostocosmos]

In the war between Israel and Hamas, there have been far too many casualties­—thousands of innocent civilians have died, primarily in Gaza. But this war has another less visible casualty: the hundreds of thousands of Jewish immigrants to Israel from the Middle East and North Africa known as Mizrahi, whose history is being erased from the popular narrative about Israel. My community is among them.

When angry protesters hurl charges of apartheid and colonialism at Israel, they are, knowingly or not, repudiating the truth about Israel's origin and the vast racial and ethnic diversity of its nation.

I was born and raised in Iran in a family of Jewish educators. I came of age during the tumultuous years of the Iranian revolution, just as Ayatollah Khomeini rose to power in 1979, and soon thereafter, annihilated his opposition­—feminists, leftists, even the Islamic Marxists who had long revered him as their spiritual leader. Until 1979, if anyone had told my observant Jewish family that we would someday leave Iran, we would have laughed. In fact, at our Passover seders, the words "next year in Jerusalem," were always followed by chuckles and quips, "oh, yeah, sure, Watch me pack!" all underlining our collective belief that we were exactly where we intended to remain. We loved Israel, but Israel was a Nirvana­—a place we revered but never expected to reach.

The 30 years preceding the Islamic revolution had led the Jewish community to believe that the dark days of bigotry were behind them. And for good reason! When my father was a schoolboy in the late 1930s, he was not allowed to attend school on rainy days. In the highly conservative town where he grew up, in Khonsar, his Shiite neighbors considered Jews "unclean," or Najes. They barred them, among other things, from leaving their homes on rainy days, lest the rainwater splashed off the bodies of the Jews and onto the Muslim passersby, thus making them "unclean," too. Yet, that same boy grew up, left the insular town, attended college in Tehran, earned a master's degree, and served in the royal army as a second lieutenant. (To his last day, my father's photo in military uniform was among his most prized possessions.) After service, he became the principal of a school, purchased a home in what was then a relatively upscale neighborhood of Tehran. The distance between my father's childhood and adulthood far surpassed two decades. It was the distance between two eras­—between incivility and civility, bigotry and tolerance.

Yet, as if on cue, the demon of antisemitism was unleashed again. The 1979 Islamic revolution summoned all the prejudices my father thought had been irretrievably buried. One day, on the wall across our home, graffiti appeared, "Jews gets lost!" Soon thereafter, the residence and fabric store my aunt and her extended family owned in my father's childhood town were set on fire after a mob of protesters looted it. Within days, she and her family, whose entire life's savings had burned in that fire, left for Israel. As young as I was, I could see that the regime was indiscriminately brutal to all those it deemed a threat to its reign, especially secular Muslims. But the new laws were specifically designed so that non-Muslims, and women, all but became second-class citizens. Members of religious minorities, especially the Baha'i, could no longer eye top jobs in academia, government, the military, etc. Restaurateurs had to display signs in their windows making clear that "the establishment was operated by a non-Muslim." In a court of law, members of religious minorities could offer testimony in criminal trials, but theirs would only count as half that of a Muslim witness. Jews were once again reduced to Dhimmis­—tax-paying citizens who were allowed to live, but not thrive. Then came a handful of executions of prominent Jewish leaders in the early months after the revolution, which sent shockwaves through the community. Jewish schools were allowed to operate, but under the headmastership of Muslims who were officially appointed.

Within a few years after the rise of Ayatollah Khomeini to power, the Jewish population of Iran, which once stood at 100,000, shrank to a fraction of its size. Today, of the ancient community whose presence in Iran predates that of Muslims, only 8,000 remain. For centuries, Iran has been home to the most sacred Jewish sites in the Middle East outside of Israel. But those monuments have either fallen into disrepair or are targets of regular attacks by antisemitic mobs. Only last week, the tomb of Esther and Mordecai­—the memorial to the heroine and hero from the Book of Esther who saved the Jews from being massacred in ancient Persia, was set on fire.

How is it that the 90,000-plus who left Iran, many for Israel, are now deemed as occupiers? How do Iranian refugees fleeing persecution become "colonizers" upon arrival in Israel? These families, my aunt among them, were not emissaries of any standing empire, nor were they returning to a place where they had no history. For them, Israel was not a home away from their real homeland. It was their only homeland. The vitriolic slogan that appeared across my home in 1979 demanded that we "get lost!" In 2024, once again, the same Jews are being called upon to leave, this time Israel. Where, then, are Jews allowed to live?

Iranian Jews were not alone. Jews from Iraq, especially in the aftermath of the 1941 pogrom called Farhood, similarly fled their homeland. So did the Jews of Yemen, Tunisia, Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Morocco, Algeria, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, etc. All, destitute and dejected, they took refuge in Israel. Today, they make up nearly 50 percent of Israel's population. To call such a nation colonial GRAVELY misrepresents the facts about Jews and Israel.

In his timeless essay, Looking Back on the Spanish Civil War, George Orwell said that in the Spain of 1937, he "saw history being written not in terms of what happened but of what ought to have happened according to various 'party lines.'" With the alarming rise of antisemitism around the world, and in light of the bloody attacks on Israel by Hamas on Oct. 7, the greatest massacre of Jews since World War II, 2024 bears an uncanny resemblance to Orwell's 1937. But perhaps in no way more ominously than the way truth has been upended to serve an ideological narrative­—one in which Jews, who have lived uninterruptedly in that land for more than two millennia, are cast as white non-indigenous interlopers, with no roots in what has always been their ancient homeland.

A public scholar at the Moynihan Center (CCNY), Roya Hakakian is the author of several books including, Journey from the Land of No: A Girlhood Caught in Revolutionary Iran (Crown, 2005).

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi If you still do recuest's for twst

Can I recuest's the dorm leaders x GN!reader that is like the mad hatter?

Madhatter Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re wild and wacky with a love for tea and making hats. You’re never in one place long mentally and physically. Your suitors are often left to question everything when you seem to tip and top off the thin line of sanity:

Malleus Draconia

“Hi Hi Horns have you burped towards the roses today?”

“Roses? Do you mean the ones in Heartslaybul? And would that be polite? To burp on them?”

He’s the perfect accessory to your insanity

He’s plenty gullible to listen to you

even when your requests border that morale of good and evil 

He’s usually picking you

His eccentric little lover

There’s never a dull moment with you by his side

He starts having a problem though when there are others sitting in on your tea parties

His rainstorms don’t necessarily mean the absolute end when it comes to you

But they usually do for your unsuspecting participants

You’re so wonderful for him

He can’t let anyone enjoy his human as much as he does

“My child of man, may we do my head fitting? I’d love to feel you soft pads against my scalp.”

Kalim Al Asim

“What are you doing (Y/n)-chan?”

“I am stretching for the annual beetle festival.”

“Beetle festival? Can I join?”

“You may but you have to eat a lady-bug first.”

“Okay!”

You guys are like kids in a candy shop 

For Kalim, he never thinks to question your sanity

You're just an exciting person

He soon finds himself supplying whatever you need to fulfill your shenanigans

And something nasty creeps up when someone (Jamil) tells you to stop

“I can make it so we can finish our tea party….by ourselves this time.”

Idia Shroud

“Come on Fireplace! Drink this tea!”

“B-but you b-brewed that in your hat…!”

“Yes that’s how you’ll know it’s sanitary!”

“Y-you’re weird.”

“Why thank you!”

He just thinks you’re the weirdest person he’s ever met

At first, he thinks its really just fascination 

With the way, you randomly dance in the direction of the cameras that were supposed to be secret

That you were different just like him

And he thought just being allies was good enough

But now he’s plotting the demise of the normie that decides to dance along with you

“There aren’t many who can handle people like us! That’s why I can’t let anyone else have you.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“Let the unbirthday party begin!”

“(Y/n), hands should be out. Elbows off the table.”

“Whoopie did you see this dessert!”

“I did now sit in your seat.”

He has a weird ability to govern you 

No one understands it 

He barely understands it 

But you two mostly get along 

He often knows how to speak your language 

Something that many seem to struggle with

But he’s the go-to person to reign you in

That’s just the way he likes it+

“Come (Y/n) you’re a good hatter. I need one for our teaparty this evening. Make it.” 

Vil Schoenheit

“You’re sense of style is certainly unique.”

“Thanks the cobwebs were my latest addition!”

“What!? Cobwebs that can’t be healthy!”

“Oooh a hat made of cake!”

He thinks you're cute but he worries your lack of sanity leads you to make bad decisions

Like having hats with holes for nonexistent limbs

As well as your affinity for drinking tea for a meal 

And probably worst of all being friends with potatoes who can’t handle you 

Which is why Vil’s here

“Didn’t you read the schedule? We’re having tea, tonight so leave those potatoes behind.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Its time for the puppy hat party!”

“...Will you stop, I’m trying to sleep!”

“But it’s time for the party!!!!”

“I’m going to kill you.”

He thinks you're so cute 

But he loves it most when you card your hands through his hair while fitting his head for a hat

But part of your insanity has you being quite energetic

Which clashes with his love for sleep 

So he might meddle a little with the tea you seem addicted to it

So he might slip something in 

To make sure he gets his snuggly hatter in his bed

“Come on Herbivore you seem exhausted. If you’re not that tired you can fit me for a hat.”

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story - Prologue

So, because that first chapter became so damn long, I cut down the bit that was most separated from the rest! Please enjoy Krill's thoughts before we change over to a new perspective again (;

Fandom: Original Content   Warnings: Violence (Mentioning of ripping a throat out/backstabbing, Depiction of mental (childhood) abuse), Monsters (Mermaids), Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Mention of death

"I can't believe this! It's outrageous—TWO sons gone! How could this happen, Krill?! You were supposed to guide them—to lead them! I told you to take care of them, and you couldn't even look after your brother and cousin! How will you ever care for your own pack?!"

My mother's rage echoed through the communal space; her questions screeched in the voice of a siren, causing them to hurt in my ears. Her words were spoken in the same way as a shark's teeth would rip through my skin—meant to harm and dominate. They left everyone in the cave silent except for my aunt, who kept weeping beside the matriarch. Had it been mating season, Nerrocan's and Lyr's disappearance could have been easily brushed off, but with how little interest both of them ever had in reproducing and it having been weeks without a sign from them, their disappearance really began to weigh on everyone. 

The other orcas witnessing my scolding were growing restless at my silence; the inability to respond quickly to the accusations thrown at me only confirmed their constant suspicions—I was incapable of the role they expected from me. The prospect of the next leader of the pack being incapable of doing the one thing I was forced to do my whole life made them lose faith not only in me but also the current matriarch who birthed me. They were whispering and discussing with each other on the quiet as if I had committed a grave sin that would make me unfit to lead. Even though they were fully aware that my reign would come to a quick end once I took a female as my partner to step up to the role of matriarch. All this talking, all the anger and frustration taken out on me, was just a show of power in the end. It didn't matter in the long run, neither to the pack's future nor to me. 

I should have been angry at Lyr and Nerrocan for putting me in this situation. For leaving me alone with all the burdens, they escaped so easily, never coming back to take me with them. I thought we were closer than that. That we'd stick together forever. But the chance of getting away must have been too freeing to resist, no matter what they had to leave behind to achieve it. If the same chance had arisen before me… I might have done the same. Leave behind this life of never being enough in the strict eyes of our mothers and the whole pack and start over far away. Do something worthwhile that wouldn't end with me cowering before the matriarch yet again, like the coward I was. A pack wasn't a place where you could achieve anything extraordinary unless you bowed your head and submitted to the nagging and pushing of expectations. And I, compared to the other two, had always been too afraid to take the leap, holding the two of them back with me so I wouldn't be alone. Until they slipped my grasp—a stupid, stupid mistake.

Just like my mother, those feelings nagged at me constantly. Permanently. Most likely until the end of my life. And there was no one to share them with anymore, as those exhaustingly painful emotions threatened to drown me.

"You'll find them and bring them back here immediately!" the matriarch finally ordered, too impatient to wait for my delayed response. With how I was taught my whole life, I understood her actions. She had to settle the pack, give them hope, and show them she had everything under control. She had to make this look like a stupid mistake of a child—even her own son—so she'd not lose the pack's trust in her capabilities. Especially with her worst opponent, her own sister, ready to take over the position at any moment. Even when family was everything to the pack, no one was safe from having their throat ripped out the moment they lowered their guard. There was no loyalty in a pack of fools.

"Oh, yes!" my aunt wept, her act so good despite having enough daughters to not need Nerrocan here to be called a worthy successor to my mother's reign. "Please, Krill! You have to bring my baby back home! Please!"

It must have been so much easier to leave, knowing you never left anything behind, really. Nerrocan didn't have to worry much about what others thought about him. He could hide behind his sisters and be a good boy just for fun. Perhaps things would have been different if I had sisters who were older or my age, too. I could have escaped the responsibilities and lived a free and happy life without repercussions for every little mistake I made in the matriarch's eyes.

"I will, Mother."

Raising my head and showing the pack a steadfast expression, I placed my hand over my heart, the gesture as shallow as it was a lie. I had no idea where the two rascals had gone, much less how I'd manage to track them down. There was no telling that I could find them, but maybe by the time I'd be too exhausted from the search, I'd have developed the courage to stay far, far away from the pack. 

Judging by the glare in the matriarch's eyes, there would be no home to return to unless I brought back the missing sons anyway. 

In her angry gaze, I noticed some doubt. For a moment, I imagined her worried that something could happen to me on this quest she sent me on. But when our eyes met, she must have known that my promise and gestures were all just for show. It hardened her feelings for me, which was for the better. We both knew I would never reach her expectations, no matter how long and hard I tried. Losing two young, efficient hunters for the pack was just the tip of the iceberg. It was better for her not to get disappointed when I'd inevitably fail the task she had given me, again. 

So when I slipped back into the water, my mother sent me off with a scoff, the whispers around me so loud, I couldn't hear my own thoughts. The cold wet was a welcome change of sounds, clearing my head for the first time since I entered that communal space. I'd become numb to the feeling of being unloved and unappreciated, so much so that it didn't face me what everyone thought of me. That's what I told myself. All I had to do was function, which was easier with a clear head. I thought back to the days before Nerrocan's disappearance, the funny human we rescued, and the way Nerrocan used to look at them. 

I wasn't stupid, even if I preferred to keep pushing away the nagging feelings that might have made me soft and even more worthless in the eyes of my mother. The two were too young to know the true horror of "love". But I was the oldest. I remembered looking at this special someone the same way that Nerrocan did with the human. I collected the shiniest stones in that small pool they held us in at that facility that Nerrocan's human wanted to go to so desperately, just so I could present these trophies to my mate. Just like Lyr now, who ransacked our treasure cave in just one night. 

Judging by how much Lyr could steal in that one night, he probably wasn't as far away as we thought. But the ocean was vast, he was a quick swimmer, and I couldn't think of a place he frequented that I should look for him. Nerrocan, on the other hand, I'd either never find him because he had been eaten by the fish all the time he'd been away or because he was back at that forsaken facility with the human. Both options made it impossible for me to ever retrieve one of them if not for sheer luck. I could have turned every stone upside down to find Lyr, who was objectively the better choice, but he was as good a hunter as I was, and unfortunately, he knew it. If he wanted to stay hidden, I'd not find him. And if he refused to come back, he might actually kill me to keep it that way.

As I turned towards the open ocean, I still lamented the fact that I'd not get to come home anymore. It was foolish to even try, but doing as I was told was all I'd ever known. I've been told how to hunt, behave, talk, act, and play all my life. My mother told me to take what I wanted, fight for what I wanted, and obey. So if she wanted to send me on a death mission, I had no choice. Compared to the other two, I didn't have a reason to betray the pack that had raised us, and no mate that I could call home, and so, I made my choice. 

And if I possibly could save even just one of those fools, then I'd wager my chances with the one that wouldn't kill me on sight. 

[naartjie-hijabi]

The US is a mess and yet they call themselves the leaders of the world.

A man literally set himself on fire because he was tired of being complicit in war crimes and I know for a fact that Genocidal Joe will not address it.

The western world is falling apart and honestly I'm so glad that I'm here for it. Countries like France, Britain, Italy, the US, Israel have been allowed to do whatever the the Hell they want at whoever's expense for far too long.

It's by time these nations are held accountable for their countless crimes against humanity and it's by time that the Global South unite to put an end to their reign.

No one, absolutely NO ONE should be denied basic human rights and experience the psychological and physical anguish that many people of our world are facing today, and these nations that have directly benefited from the pain and suffering of millions upon millions deserve nothing short of Hell.

Let 2024 be the year that average citizens stand up for the oppressed and protest until we physically cannot for the freedom of not just Palestine, but for Sudan, Congo, Kashmir, Armenia, the Uyghurs, the Rohingyas, Yemen, Syria. Ukraine and every other oppressed nation.

NO ONE IS FREE UNTIL WE ARE ALL FREE

[monster-slxt]

Vampires you say? I happen to be a vampire connoisseur, some little things that have been on the brain lately - A vampire that can't stop themselves from sinking their fangs into your neck while they rail you into next week - Alternatively, a vampire who can stop themselves from biting you, they just don't. They whisper "hold still" in your ear and then bite you as hard as they can - Being a free use fuck toy/bloodbag for a covenant of vampires. They of course have to be careful not to drain you too much before your body has time to replace its blood volume, but they drink form you till your weak and unable to struggle, and then they spend all night using you like a fleshlight. They are creatures of the night afterall, they sleep all day and then have plenty of energy to use up at night. - Being a servant sent as a sacrifice to a vampire ruler, you presume you are meant to be a meal but instead they stuff your holes full of cum and you're made to join the group of other 'sacrifices' all of which are also filled to the brim

God these are all so good. Let's see if I can't combine them into something fun<3

"Really, they'll make a wonderful... servant! Very healthy, this one." It was all I could do not to shudder at my soon to be ex-employers words, offering me up as a lamb to the slaughter. The man, mysterious with sharp eyes, carefully took me in but said nothing. Instinctively I knew he wanted to watch my boss squirm.

Everyone knew the truth. Our town was practically run by a group of vampires. No one ever said it outright, but we all knew. You kept your head down, didn't get close to new comers who wouldn't last long, and everything was fine.

But everything was not fine. My boss had gotten himself into a spot of trouble. He never told me the details but it must be pretty fucking bad if he's desperate enough to offer me up on a silver platter. To call attention to himself.

"I think you might just have a deal." The monster, the head vampire if the whispers were correct, finally spoke up, "get out of my sight. You, come with me."

And just like that, i belonged to the vampire coven.

The first night had been utterly terrifying. Instead of being ripped into like I expected, the leader showed me around their manor and introduced me to the coven. Of course they fed from me that first night, but nothing more. Four mouthes latching onto me, sharp fangs piercing deep into my neck. Something about their bites left me uncomfortably warm and light headed, and I'm quickly shown to a room to recover.

Over the next few weeks my postion as blood bag is made painfully clear. All four of them are nipping at me every chance they get, and getting progressively handsier as time goes on. I get to learn their personality and preferences through these feedings.

The youngest is wild and impulsive- biting deep and harsh and almost having to be pried off of me by the others, lost in their hunger. They're the most handsy too, ice cold fingers slipping under my clothes feel far too good in my loopy post-feeding state. Another realm they need to be reigned in, no matter how hot and bothered feeding the vampires, the leader never allows anything further than heavy petting. It's honestly starting to drive me a bit insane.

The sweetest vampire has platinum blonde hair and likes to coddle me, cooing about how sweet I am and petting me while drinking my blood. They always make sure I end up somewhere soft and comfortable in the end. I think they must be getting off on taking care of me when blood loss makes me dizzy and frail.

It's still preferable to the second in command. They're outright cruel. Biting the deepest, holding me down and mocking my inability to fight back against supernatural strength. They like the hunt, following me in the shadows only to pounce when i least expect it- leaving me jumpy and paranoid.

I still don't know if I prefer them to the leader though. The leader treats me like food, nothing more. Just a pretty thing to sit on his lap and quench his thirst. He hasn't said a word to me since that first horrible night.

And so here I am, sitting on his lap as the others watch him feed from me. It's clear whatever aphrodisiac properties vampire venom have are getting to me- im hot and barely suppressing the urge to moan and grind against his thigh.

"Look, it's broken in enough isn't it? Poor things desperate." The leader detaches from my neck at that, cold eyes taking in my desperate form.

"You know, I think you're right." He says, leaning in close and nipping my ear. "I think it's finally time we showed our new pet some proper hospitality."

In an instant the others closed in, their freezing hands roaming every inch of my body. The chill felt heavenly against the heat of my own body. I was too lost in blood loss and vampire venom to have any idea what was happening, not that it would have mattered against the four of them.

[munsonluhvr]

THE FIRST DATE

contents: this is a steddie x reader one-shot. sfw! you and steve are dating, happily in love, when you meet eddie munson and are intrigued by his charismatic personality. everyone is caught by surprise when you all end up going on your first date as a throuple. word count - 1.6k

Your heart thumps against your chest as you sit in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, the two back doors open as you sit in the middle of Steve and Eddie. In your mind, though you aren’t particularly religious, you say a prayer that this date goes well and that Eddie’s van doesn’t explode from the tension that’s between the three of you.

It all started when Steve Harrington, your boyfriend of several years, was introduced to Eddie Munson by Dustin Henderson, a mutual friend of both Steve and Eddie. You had been there too, beside Steve, when Dustin introduced Eddie as his friend and leader of the club Dustin was so loyal to - the Hellfire Club. It was obvious from the very beginning that Eddie found you stunning, his cheeks flushing with nerves as you gave him a hug, glad to meet another friend of Dustin’s. It had surprised Steve when he was turned on, only a little, when he noticed Eddie’s obvious attraction to you. Although you’d never admit it out loud, especially to Steve, you found Eddie Munson handsome, sweet and charming. There was something so cute, so endearing and genuine about Eddie. He was shamelessly funny, joking around with you, Dustin, and Steve with ease.

It had taken several days for Steve to bring the interaction with Eddie up to you. “So that Eddie guy,” Steve had said, glancing at you. You were sitting in his room, nestled on his bed watching while he picked up his clothes that were thrown about the room. “He obviously thought you were cute.”

You had laughed, amused. “Oh really? What made you notice, the fact that he blushed when I hugged him or the way his eyes took in my entire body,” you said, glancing at Steve to see if he was mad or amused too. “Are you jealous?”

Steve snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not jealous, I was actually turned on by it.”

You frowned, now staring at Steve. “What?”

Steve paused picking up his clothes, tossing them into the hamper. “Listen, and don’t think I’m weird, but I don’t know, I found it kind of hot that another guy liked you.” Steve’s eyes moved off of you to the floor and then back to you. “You think I’m weird don’t you?”

You shook your head, realizing that your mouth was slightly agape. “No, I-, I’m just confused, Steve. What are you saying?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know, I saw this program on tv about people that have a third partner in their relationship, you know polygamy, throuples. I thought it might be interesting to add a third person, maybe somebody as unique as Eddie to our relationship.”

Your jaw dropped then, totally blown away by your long-term boyfriend’s admission. Steve had never suggested such an idea before, something so out there as being in a trouple relationship. As caught off guard as you were, you acknowledged that Steve had never done you wrong in your relationship, not once in the several years you had been dating. He’s always been loyal, kind and caring; he wouldn’t suggest something that would ruin that perfect track record. You decided to go with it, loosening the tight reigns that you had held throughout your entire relationship with Steve.

It was frightening, to say the very least, when you and Steve approached Eddie with such an offer. Eddie was equally caught off guard, yet intrigued. Eddie knew nothing about him was normal; he’d been labeled a freak for as long as he could remember, he was a nerd, a drug dealer, and comes from an interesting family background. Why couldn’t he add polygamist to that long list? You and Steve seemed to being decent people, obviously in a stable relationship, must be a little freaky to come up with an idea to add Eddie to your relationship. In the end, Eddie agreed to try the arrangement out, joining you and Steve on a date night.

You’re at the Hawkin’s drive in theater viewing ‘Aliens,’ what is allegedly supposed to be the hit movie of the year. Eddie had offered to bring his van for the three of you to sit in, the back of it leaving a lot of space to hang out and stretch your legs while you watched the movie. The drive in theater is packed, much of Hawkin’s High utilizing the opportunity to screen the movie on the extended weekend.

Beside you, Eddie and Steve converse fluidly around you, bending in front of you and behind you to pass comments and continue conversation. You sit between the boys, zoning out at the reality of the entire situation, of what you’re doing sandwiched between the two handsome boys. Although this idea of being a throuple with Eddie and Steve is new, a part of you wants it to work. Having one sweet guy in your life was amazing, but having two? Could you really be that lucky? Occasionally, Steve nudges your arm with his hand, attempting to include you in the conversation.

“Did you hear that, babe?” Steve says, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Eddie plays at The Hideout in a band; he invited us to go watch him sometime.”

You hum, offering a smile. “That would be awesome, we’d love to.”

You were pleased that the two boys were getting along so well with each other, conversation flowing between them with ease, which just made the possibility of Eddie officially joining your relationship more real. It was all settling in to your mind though, each passing minute allowing you to adjust to the reality that it will no longer be just you and Steve but you, Steve and Eddie. That could be good though; the more the merrier is how the saying goes, right?

The movie begins a few minutes later, although you couldn’t tell by the way Steve and Eddie continue to converse. Thankfully, when you three had arrived at the drive in, the theater attendants told Eddie to park the van in the back row since his car was tall and would block other’s view of the screen if it was anywhere but the back row. This fact also ensured that Steve and Eddie’s antics wouldn’t interrupt other’s movie experience.

You tried to keep your attention on the movie at first, however, it became hard to do that when Steve made a game of tossing popcorn into Eddie’s mouth. You couldn’t help it anymore; you joined in on the fun, tossing the small, round candies that you had bought from the concession stand into Eddie’s mouth too. The game flips eventually, Steve now on the receiving end various foods being thrown at him. Through the course of the two hour movie, you, Steve and Eddie had done a cart wheel contest on the open space next to the van, which is where you learned Steve can’t do a single cartwheel and Eddie is talented at entry level gymnastics moves.

Steve had always made you laugh, his sense of humor always hitting your funny bone, yet Steve and Eddie together was overwhelming and you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so hard. To be honest, Steve and Eddie are near perfect for each other, able to find things to talk about with ease. They were two completely different kinds of guys: Steve came from an upper class background, a more clean-cut, typical guy while Eddie was eccentric and unique, a weedhead, an artist and nerd of the game ‘Dungeons and Dragons.’ Nonetheless, the way they acted on this date was as if they’ve known each other forever.

After all the games, you sit, tired, on the edge of the backside of the van. Steve moves from the open space next to the van to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around the front of you and leaning back against the side of the van. Your back leans against Steve’s chest, his arm securing your position. You notice Eddie lingering to the side, eyeing you and Steve’s position. You feel bad for a moment, knowing that he feels out of place.

You pat your lap. “Come sit with us, Eddie. There’s lots of space for you too,” you say with a soft smile. Behind you, Steve smiles, then glances back at the movie screen. He attempts to understand the movie, the scenes that play out not making any sense as he missed the first half of the movie due to horse playing with you and Eddie. Steve gives up after only a few seconds.

Eddie moves to where you and Steve sit, climbing into the back of his car to join you both. You help Eddie arrange himself among you and Steve, suggesting that Eddie lays between your legs, his head resting on his your lap. Eddie does so, taking the second to ask Steve for approval.

“Is this okay, Steve? To lay on your girl, I mean.” Eddie asks cautiously

Steve smiles, gesturing towards you who still lays against his chest. “Go for it, man. She’s your girl now too.” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, not very surprised at the calm, euphoric feeling from the way being both Steve and Eddie girlfriend and from the way Steve easily accepts Eddie without jealousy or hesitation.

Eddie softens, laying his head onto your lap gently. His arms wrap around your legs, your body now his personal pillow. Your hands go into Eddie’s hair automatically, mostly out of habit as it’s what Steve likes when he lays like Eddie does.

Down below, Eddie purrs with content. “I can get used to this easily.”

[lady-quen]

Hello Guild Wars 2 community! A new poll has dropped! 🐦‍⬛

(At least, hopefully new, lol.) I'm curious, which blessing did your Commander get on their first/canon go through the Raven Sanctum in the story mission "The Invitation?" Choose and tell me in the tags why they made their specific decisions :)

Compiled explanations from the wiki below for ease of access:

The trial choices in order:

Save the wounded man or save the healers

Save the spell tome or save the historical record

Save the queen or save the prince

Blessings:

Blessing of Daybreak

"When the fear of beastly claws and a child's pain is made sharp by the knowledge of elders, we make no mistakes. But do we grow?"

Healers -> historical record -> prince

Grace of Dawn

"When wisdom is favored in all things—a healing hand, a text of old, a beloved queen—we lose the sharpened sword of the truly bold."

Healers -> historical record -> queen

Consecration of Morning

"We seek to destroy monsters with sharp claws and icy breath, but do we protect ourselves from the beasts shaped like us, who prey on the young and vulnerable, who seek to rule us?"

Healers -> spell tome -> prince

Invocation of Midday

"When we flee from the things we fear most - the teeth of beasts, the storm of a dragon, a change of power-we risk running backward."

Healers -> spell tome -> queen

Supplication of Midday

"We favor the skill of healers and the wisdom of elders over the uncertainty of the future. But the young take chances, and the young push us forward."

Wounded man -> spell tome -> prince

Consecration of Evening

"We long for the comfort of a healing touch, an ancestral word of wisdom, a leader we know and trust. But comfort is fleeting, and with it comes inertia."

Wounded man -> historical record -> queen

Grace of Dusk

"We sacrifice so much—safety from the claws of death, knowledge of the ages, a steadfast reign—to propel ourselves forward. But if we move too fast, do we risk the inability to stop?"

Wounded man -> spell tome -> prince

Blessing of Twilight

"We try so hard to do the right thing. We heal, we protect our people, we preserve stability. But we cannot control how the winds of fate may shift, and a tight grip can sometimes hurt more than it helps."

Wounded man -> spell tome -> queen

[book--brackets]

The Mistborn Saga by Brandon Sanderson (2006-2022)

For a thousand years the ash fell and no flowers bloomed. For a thousand years the Skaa slaved in misery and lived in fear. For a thousand years the Lord Ruler, the "Sliver of Infinity," reigned with absolute power and ultimate terror, divinely invincible. Then, when hope was so long lost that not even its memory remained, a terribly scarred, heart-broken half-Skaa rediscovered it in the depths of the Lord Ruler's most hellish prison. Kelsier "snapped" and found in himself the powers of a Mistborn. A brilliant thief and natural leader, he turned his talents to the ultimate caper, with the Lord Ruler himself as the mark. Kelsier recruited the underworld's elite, the smartest and most trustworthy allomancers, each of whom shares one of his many powers, and all of whom relish a high-stakes challenge. Only then does he reveal his ultimate dream, not just the greatest heist in history, but the downfall of the divine despot. But even with the best criminal crew ever assembled, Kel's plan looks more like the ultimate long shot, until luck brings a ragged girl named Vin into his life. Like him, she's a half-Skaa orphan, but she's lived a much harsher life. Vin has learned to expect betrayal from everyone she meets, and gotten it. She will have to learn to trust, if Kel is to help her master powers of which she never dreamed.

This saga dares to ask a simple question: What if the hero of prophecy fails?

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (2013)

A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse where she once lived, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire (1995-2011)

When Dorothy triumphed over the Wicked Witch of the West in L. Frank Baum’s classic tale, we heard only her side of the story. But what about her arch-nemesis, the mysterious Witch? Where did she come from? How did she become so wicked?

Gregory Maguire has created a fantasy world so rich and vivid that we will never look at Oz the same way again.

Wicked is about a land where animals talk and strive to be treated like first-class citizens, Munchkinlanders seek the comfort of middle-class stability, and the Tin Man becomes a victim of domestic violence. And then there is the little green-skinned girl named Elphaba, who will grow up to become the infamous Wicked Witch of the West—a smart, prickly, and misunderstood creature who challenges all our preconceived notions about the nature of good and evil.

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice (1976-2018)

This is the story of Louis, as told in his own words, of his journey through mortal and immortal life. Louis recounts how he became a vampire at the hands of the radiant and sinister Lestat and how he became indoctrinated, unwillingly, into the vampire way of life. His story ebbs and flows through the streets of New Orleans, defining crucial moments such as his discovery of the exquisite lost young child Claudia, wanting not to hurt but to comfort her with the last breaths of humanity he has inside. Yet, he makes Claudia a vampire, trapping her womanly passion, will, and intelligence inside the body of a small child. Louis and Claudia form a seemingly unbreakable alliance and even "settle down" for a while in the opulent French Quarter. Louis remembers Claudia's struggle to understand herself and the hatred they both have for Lestat that sends them halfway across the world to seek others of their kind. Louis and Claudia are desperate to find somewhere they belong, to find others who understand, and someone who knows what and why they are.

Louis and Claudia travel Europe, eventually coming to Paris and the ragingly successful Theatre des Vampires--a theatre of vampires pretending to be mortals pretending to be vampires. Here they meet the magnetic and ethereal Armand, who brings them into a whole society of vampires. But Louis and Claudia find that finding others like themselves provides no easy answers and in fact presents dangers they scarcely imagined.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (1865-1876)

After a tumble down the rabbit hole, Alice finds herself far away from home in the absurd world of Wonderland. As mind-bending as it is delightful, Lewis Carroll’s 1865 novel is pure magic for young and old alike.

Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer (2001-2012)

Twelve-year-old Artemis Fowl is a millionaire, a genius—and, above all, a criminal mastermind. But even Artemis doesn't know what he's taken on when he kidnaps a fairy, Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon Unit. These aren't the fairies of bedtime stories—they're dangerous! Full of unexpected twists and turns, Artemis Fowl is a riveting, magical adventure.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (2008)

Bod is an unusual boy who inhabits an unusual place--he's the only living resident of a graveyard. Raised from infancy by the ghosts, werewolves, and other cemetery denizens, Bod has learned the antiquated customs of his guardians' time as well as their ghostly teachings--such as the ability to Fade so mere mortals cannot see him.

Can a boy raised by ghosts face the wonders and terrors of the worlds of both the living and the dead?

The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan (1990-2013)

The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.

When The Two Rivers is attacked by Trollocs—a savage tribe of half-men, half-beasts— five villagers flee that night into a world they barely imagined, with new dangers waiting in the shadows and in the light.

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman (1996)

Under the streets of London there's a place most people could never even dream of. A city of monsters and saints, murderers and angels, knights in armour and pale girls in black velvet. This is the city of the people who have fallen between the cracks.

Richard Mayhew, a young businessman, is going to find out more than enough about this other London. A single act of kindness catapults him out of his workday existence and into a world that is at once eerily familiar and utterly bizarre. And a strange destiny awaits him down here, beneath his native city: Neverwhere.

The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson (2010-present)

Roshar is a world of stone and storms. Uncanny tempests of incredible power sweep across the rocky terrain so frequently that they have shaped ecology and civilization alike. Animals hide in shells, trees pull in branches, and grass retracts into the soilless ground. Cities are built only where the topography offers shelter. 

It has been centuries since the fall of the ten consecrated orders known as the Knights Radiant, but their Shardblades and Shardplate remain: mystical swords and suits of armor that transform ordinary men into near-invincible warriors. Men trade kingdoms for Shardblades. Wars were fought for them, and won by them. 

One such war rages on a ruined landscape called the Shattered Plains. There, Kaladin, who traded his medical apprenticeship for a spear to protect his little brother, has been reduced to slavery. In a war that makes no sense, where ten armies fight separately against a single foe, he struggles to save his men and to fathom the leaders who consider them expendable. 

Brightlord Dalinar Kholin commands one of those other armies. Like his brother, the late king, he is fascinated by an ancient text called The Way of Kings. Troubled by over-powering visions of ancient times and the Knights Radiant, he has begun to doubt his own sanity. 

Across the ocean, an untried young woman named Shallan seeks to train under an eminent scholar and notorious heretic, Dalinar's niece, Jasnah. Though she genuinely loves learning, Shallan's motives are less than pure. As she plans a daring theft, her research for Jasnah hints at secrets of the Knights Radiant and the true cause of the war.

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

i love the incorrect quotes, but i dont agree with your political views. if its not much, could you explain why ur so anti bjp?(thats what i assume anyway)

You know, I actually think that the memes and the quotes are sort of a natural extension of our political views. I'll explain but it might get a little long. Stay with me here.

Firstly, I want to say that I think this way of perceiving politics is so fundamentally wrong.

"Anti-BJP", "Pro-BJP", "Anti-Congress", "pro-congress" etc etc. This isn't a cricket match where you're rooting for your favourite team. Politicians, as a general rule, are a bunch of liars. They lie to gain power and control. It's OUR duty, as CITIZENS, to keep them accountable and in their lane so they actually do their goddamn jobs. That's how the democracy is supposed to work. If they don't do their job properly, you vote them out of the seat. They work for us, and not the other way around.

In India, we grow up with this idea of not questioning your elders. Papa ne keh diya, bas keh diya. As children our natural instinct of curiosity and inquisitiveness is stifled. We go to schools and the same pattern follows. Don't question the authority. Keep your head down and colour inside the lines. We internalise this lesson to colossal degrees. Is it any wonder that we all struggle with critical thinking? If you're spoonfed "the correct answer" your entire life, you never learn to find if what you were told is correct or not. This exact thing is used by all politicians across the entire political spectrum. They use our learned behaviour of deferring to authority and never questioning power against us. The leader of the country becomes the patriarch. Papa ne keh diya, bas keh diya.

I have various issues with various political parties in India, in fact. I have no love lost for any of them. I don't exactly believe in unconditional loyalty to politicians.

Since you brought up the BJP, let's talk about that. My biggest issue with them is their politics of communal hatred. All they keep yapping about is hindu-muslim this and hindu-muslim that. For what? They could spend their time talking about actual issues but the low-hanging fruit of stoking communal hatred is easier to grab onto. Remember when the British did the same thing? It was bad then and it's bad now. All this unrest just to get votes. Imagine fucking up the mind of an entire nation like this and then demanding to be praised for it.

Their foundational roots are from the RSS and that entire organisation's existence is just insane to me. It's even more insane that they managed to go from a fringe ideology to becoming mainstream. "Hindu rashtra", it seems. Who even wants that? WHY do they want that? Is it such a bad fate to live in peace and harmony with other religions? A lot of their talking points are about how much they hate the islamic nations and how those are horrible and then they want to turn around and do the same thing?!? Is the hypocrisy not clear? So what if other countries are religious states? Why can't we try to be different? Maybe I'M the stupid one for thinking all humans are the same that we should treat everyone the same. Who knows.

There are also a bunch of other issues that the BJP has racked up during their rule. The demonetisation disaster, mismanagement of government funds to create public infrastructure, letting the interests of billionaire business ruin PROTECTED FOREST AREAS for mining coal that they didn't even need, introducing and passing HORRIBLE bills through the parliament without any thought or discussion, literally ignoring the plight of people dying in riots, CORRUPTION, destroying the public sector and letting for-profit capitalists free reign in a country which has practically no proper labour laws, aiding in creating a historical record of INCOME INEQUALITY that is higher than it was during the fucking colonial era, fucking up the press even more somehow to the point where they control all of the media houses.

This is not even scratching the surface. I could keep going.

My issue is not whether people vote for the BJP or not. Even if you like the BJP, my issue is that people seem willing to turn a blind eye to all the issues with the government and not even hold them accountable for it.

Vote for whoever you want. My only request is to keep your government accountable. Keep the power in check. The politicians should be SCARED of the citizens fury if they do something wrong. They shouldn't be free to do whatever and get off scot free.

That's our political stance, really. It's Pro-Exercise-Your-Democratic-Rights-As-Citizen.

We will always encourage others to be wary of people with too much power.

Now coming back to why I said the memes reflect our political stance, it's because it's obvious to see why we happen to be willing to risk being a little critical of a literary text. You have to be a little transgressive, in a sense. Perfect obedience and perfect reverence stifles people from engaging with something to their full potential.

I'm sorry to say that if you enjoy the memes and the quotes, you are also being a little transgressive like us. You're also questioning the authority of a religion to an extent. Perhaps our political leanings aren't as different as you might believe.

-Mod S