#Elysian Hold

[starcurtain]

What in the World is Going on With Mydei's Backstory?

One thing I noticed while playing through the story is that there appears to be something very strange going on with Mydei's backstory. Namely: It's almost like he's got two different backstories going on at once.

And I wonder if that's on accident... or on purpose. On the one hand, Amphoreus's plot has my brain spinning wild conspiracy theories about time loops and multiple lives and even the whole world possibly being some sort of simulation, which would make "two simultaneous timelines" make perfect sense.

(On the other hand... Hoyo doesn't have the best track record for character timelines. Remember how Sunday and Robin's mother was killed when the stellaron fell on Penacony... the same stellaron that fell before the Astral Express crash landed... centuries ago... 😂)

But anyway, here's what I mean:

In 3.0, Mydei makes statements that suggest he lived in Castrum Kremnos:

Phainon also says that Mydei is "homesick" for Kremnos, implying this was his home at some point.

The Chryseus Leo in Castrum Kremnos recognizes him by the sound of his voice, and Mydei responds as if reuniting with a well-loved mentor:

This suggests Mydei spent long enough in Kremnos to be affectionate with Chryseus Leo (he even calls him just "Leo" like a nickname) and have learned from him as a teacher.

In 3.1, Mydei speaks about the Kremnoan royal library as if he has personal knowledge of what scrolls/slates are available there. He also calls it "my library" with a possessive but especially fond feeling, as if he's spent a decent amount of time there and loves it.

And, during Trailblazer and Castorice's visit to past Castrum Kremnos, which supposedly takes place before Eurypon's fall, an NPC on the street curses Mydei as a traitor and claims that all the Kremnoans who went with him to Okhema are "deserters."

Castorice and the Trailblazer even have a discussion about whether Mydei's choice to leave Castrum Kremnos was brave or cowardly. This indicates that Mydei's whereabouts were well-known to the people of Castrum Kremnos before the city met its downfall.

However... there's a big problem with all this: None of this actually make sense with the backstory Mydei himself states in 3.1.

According to the flashback we experience in 3.1, Mydei was thrown into the Sea of Souls as an infant.

This correlates with what we know from his leaked voicelines (skip the image below if you want to avoid the leak!)

His earliest memory is in the Sea of Souls. He himself states he has no memory of living in Kremnos before his father threw him into the sea. He lived nine years in the Sea of Souls before returning to land.

Then, he states that he met his five friends directly after returning from the Sea of Souls:

And he states that they lived together "in exile" for ten years.

But... uh... who exiled them?

It literally can't have been Eurypon, given that Eurypon doesn't recognize Mydei at all and explicitly had no idea Mydei was still alive the whole time:

A few lines later, Mydei also states:

"When we left Kremnos."

So Mydei... went back to Kremnos after leaving the Sea of Souls and meeting his friends...? And he lived in the inner city and had access to the royal library, apparently, but nobody loyal to the king ever noticed him? And then he was somehow exiled after that? For... some other crime entirely (since it wouldn't be for being the missing crown prince, given Eurypon didn't know he was back)? Or just decided to self-exile at some point, despite living presumably relatively peacefully in his home nation?

When could this even have fit in the timeline?

We're told that by "the fifth year" of Mydei returning from the Sea of Souls (Mydei would have been 14 years old) three of his five friends were already dead, and he'd already waged war with at least two different countries (Ladon and Aidonia).

We're never remotely given an indication here that there is room in the timeline for Mydei to have returned to Kremnos and just lived there as an undercover citizen. He instead specifically states that he and his friends lived in the wilds of Amphoreus, roaming the land for ten years.

He even notes that all of his friends died before he ever had a chance to bring the detachment to join up with Okhema:

There's also the entire aspect of Mydei's situation being paralleled to the children he meets in Okhema. When he asks them "How can you consider Kremnos your home when you never lived there?" we, as the players, are supposed to recognize that Mydei feels this way too: Castrum Kremnos was not his home--because theoretically the timeline is telling us he never actually lived here.

This is reinforced by the "As I've Written" chapter, where Okhema is once again posited as Mydei's only home:

So... Something is really not adding up here, especially if you think to the NPC in past Castrum Kremnos who describes Mydei word-for-word as both the "crown prince" and a "Chrysos Heir" who has already deserted for Okhema with his army before Eurypon's death.

In the Kremnos ruins, there's this memory fragment where Krateros confirms that Mydei and the detachment are already working with Okhema before Eurypon's death:

Except that this definitely conflicts with the timeline Mydei gives for his own joining up with Okhema. He says all of his friends died before the detachment went to Okhema, and explicitly that Hephaestion died after Eurypon:

So this is Schroedinger's detachment, both allied to Okhema and not at the same time. 😂

We also know that Mydei didn't live in Kremnos after killing his father, since he explicitly states:

Why would the people need to be led back into Kremnos... if they hadn't left yet...

Furthermore, some of Hepaestion's dialogue also makes it sound like Mydei already had the Kremnoan people with him at this time, and that the migrant Kremnoans were already waiting for Mydei to lead them back to Kremnos:

Theoretically, Mydei could have been traveling around Amphoreus just picking up random Kremnoan exiles and formed the detachment out of those random Kremnoans he picked up... maybe? I guess? Since it definitely doesn't make sense that he absconded from Castrum Kremnos with a whole army and his dad never even noticed!

And the icing on the cake even. During his confrontation with Eurypon, Mydei says:

He knew about Nikador's soul being split?! He knew about what had been done to make Nikador immortal way back then? And then he just... FORGOT before 3.0?! Whattttt is even happening herreeee?

The only way even part of this works as a single timeline is if the events are:

Mydei is thrown into the Sea of Souls as an infant.

Mydei lives 9 years as a feral siren child in the Sea of Souls.

Mydei finally returns to land, meets his five friends.

Mydei, despite knowing his father is out to kill him, sneaks back into Castrum Kremnos and somehow manages to find a place to live as an undercover citizen (under a fake name too, presumably?!) in the inner city even though he would theoretically be perceived as a penniless, nameless orphan at this point. Maybe he couch surfs at his five bros' houses, I don't know lol.

In some relatively short period of time (less than five years for sure), he manages to build an entire detachment army under his father's nose with no one giving away his identity to anyone loyal to the king (despite the fact that we see many Kremnoan citizens still loyal to Eurypon all the way to the end), then he exiles himself and his entire army from Kremnos, still without the king even noticing?

Mydei and his army pillage randomly for ten years, then Mydei returns and kills his father.

He leads the Kremnoan detachment to Okhema to join Aglaea's cause.

However, this still can't resolve the continuity error of the random people of Castrum Kremnos knowing he's 1) alive, 2) the crown prince, and 3) assisting Okhema all before Eurypon, the literal king, even learned Mydei was still alive, plus knowing about the plot to break Nikador's soul up and then somehow just flat out forgetting that lol.

Even Castrum Kremnos's timeline itself is confusing

There's also the weird stuff going on with Castrum Kremnos's timeline.

We know that Castrum Kremnos's last Kremnos Festival took place at the end of the Chrysos War. In 3.0, Phainon talks about this war and the tales of the Chrysos heirs involved with it as if it is something that took place long enough ago to have become the stuff of legends:

When being exposed to the present Kremnos, Gnaeus implies that a significant amount of time must have passed between Eurypon's death and the Trailblazer and Castorice's mission:

And Gnaeus also confirms that supposedly thousands of years have passed between Castrum Kremnos's last Kremnos Festival and the present:

Mydei implies that the people of Castrum Kremnos have been away from their homeland long enough for their traditions to have faded:

Aelius, who is a grown-ish looking NPC from the "Love in the Time of Black Tide" questline, notes that when he came with Mydei to Okhema, he was just a child:

All of this suggested that Castrum Kremnos's downfall actually happened years and years ago, some of it suggesting possibly decades or even centuries of lying in ruin.

The fact that an NPC aged to adulthood or near to it while Mydei didn't change at all definitely had people convinced in 3.0 that Mydei was literally "immortal" in that he did not age, suggesting he could be centuries old.

However, that... also doesn't make sense.

We have Damionis who managed to take a picture at the last Kremnos Festival, suggesting it wasn't very many years ago, given that he's clearly not an older NPC:

And Krateros, who clearly does age, is shown as an already grown man in the flashbacks with Eurypon and Gorgo.

To complicate matters even further, we have two Gorgos--one in the past and one who was Mydei's mother, but both of whom achieved the same feat. The devs even deliberately obfuscate on the original Gorgo's identity through the readables to further link the Gorgo of the past with the Gorgo of the present by refusing to state the gender of the Gorgo of the past:

It's not on accident. They want players to conflate the two Gorgos.

Andddd another edit, because I keep finding things that don't add up. When Phainon and the Trailblazer go to Kremnos to fight Flame Reaver, they run into a bunch of Kremnoans fighting the black tide. Phainon speculates that Aglaea must have rallied them, except...

That guy definitely has no idea why Aglaea would be giving him any commands, and, more than that--he doesn't even know who Phainon is. Could there really be any of the Kremnoan detachment that don't at least know of Okhema's Chrysos Heirs? And why would he imply that their "king will deal with you" if Mydei is aligned with Okhema?

I don't think these Kremnoans came from the time period we think they did...

How can we reconcile this?

We could just handwave this and say "Classic Hoyo, not great with keeping track of their own writing." We have evidence they've made mistakes (and retcons) before.

But with timelines being so central to Amphoreus's plot... I'm suspicious, enough so to suggest that there may be enough conflicting information here that this could be on purpose.

In fact, if you separate out the events that don't make sense together, it almost appears as if there could be two completely different timelines, or as if events from two different timelines have become stitched together, trying to create one coherent story and yet, like mismatched puzzle pieces, not quite adding up.

In one timeline, the one that seems most prevalent, Mydei (who ages normally) was tossed into the Sea of Souls as an infant despite his mother's protests, lived (and died) in the sea nine years, then was discovered by a band of five Kremnoan exiles who became his friends, wandered with them for ten years, and eventually returned to Castrum Kremnos to kill his father at around 19 years old. From there, he led any Kremnoans who were willing to follow him to Okhema as refugees and as a detachment army, and they've served in Okhema for no more than a few years--enough that Aglaea still calls him a youth and Mydei hasn't noticeably aged since he killed his father, and enough that Damionis, who visited Castrum Kremnos during the last festival, is still a young man.

In the other timeline, we have a much more ancient Castrum Kremnos, one which had already fallen into ruin long enough ago for its final king to turn to dust and the Chrysos War to become the stuff of legends, according to Phainon. In this timeline, a version of Mydeimos who was much more familiar with the city, one who apparently had access to the royal library and lived in the inner city of Castrum Kremnos (which Phainon says matches him having the status of a prince), suddenly decides to betray his country, possibly due to seeing his father decline into madness. He becomes a "traitor of a crown prince" according to the regular Kremnoans, but manages to assemble an army of his own loyal followers, which becomes the Kremnoan detachment that lays waste to enemy countries for years. At some point, he is recognized as a Chrysos Heir during the Chrysos War era and allies himself with Okhema, and then only after that returns to kill his father.

And the biggest hint we have to support this "alternate timelines" theory?

The game itself.

When Mydei returns to Castrum Kremnos, we actually see two different scenarios weaving together--the "truth" as we know it, with a destroyed Castrum Kremnos, and the other where the nation is whole and happy.

The assumption the game leaves players with on the surface is that Mydei is simply imagining things, envisioning a "dream" scenario where he reunites with his lost friends and gets to live in a flourishing Castrum Kremnos with his people.

However... I feel the need to point out that every time the scene cuts between the "dream" and "reality"... We actually hear the exact same sound effect that plays whenever you activate Oronyx's miracles to travel between timelines.

For comparison, Mydei's "dream":

And Oronyx's miracles sound effect:

In fact, the visual effect of swapping timelines (darkening on the edges of the screen, a flash of blue geometric shapes) is actually also perfectly identical, and you can even hear Oronyx's voice as Mydei shifts between "reality" and his supposed "dream."

If it were just the repeated sound effect, it might be easy to say it's just Hoyo reusing resources. But... why play Oronyx's animation and voice over the scene if this isn't a time shift?

Unless... all the confusion is on purpose.

Is it possible that what we're seeing unfold in Amphoreus isn't the truth? That the stories we're hearing and seeing might not be whole stories and are instead just scattered pieces? Different timelines stitched together, like someone telling stories about the past but misremembering the details? With memories overlapping, or overwriting each other, or being altered by timelines or time loops collapsing in on themselves? (Something similar happens with Tribios's story, by the way--Tribbie insists that in the ancient timeline, Tribios was completely alone and that we as time travelers with Oronyx's power are in fact only witnessing a memory, and yet Phainon notes several times that it's not possible for Tribios to have made it through without outside assistance, suggesting the two timelines are in fact overlapping, and what Tribbie remembers in her memory isn't actually accurate.)

Is it possible that the events of Mydei's backstory don't quite add up because they're not supposed to?

Is Mydei really imagining things as he returns to Kremnos... or are we actually seeing entirely different timelines or lives "resonate" with each other, collapsing into each other to create a single jumbled story that not even Mydei realizes isn't true?

Or... Maybe Hoyo just goofed again. I guess we'll just have to wait and see! 😂

[huellitaa]

"elysian boutique" logo, top, and necklace in photos all owned and designed by me. stickers not mine ♡

[fiaistired]

Elysian Fields by The Mechanisms save me

Elysian Fields by The Mechanisms

save me Elysian Fields by The Mechanisms

[xoxochb]

“who's the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm?” it’s jason grace, your honor

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

jason was utterly screwed. from the moment he had entered cabin one and saw you of all people laying atop his bed (yet again— who the hell else would be?) of course it was you, it just had to be you. why couldn’t it have been a harpy coming to eat his intestines? or past monsters seeking revenge? but no, of everyone it was you. he knew that he had training in— by now— under a half an hour but he couldn’t help the fact that right now you had never appeared to be more ethereal, the way you’re wearing his sweatshirt, on his bed, with your bare legs sprawled along it, and the soft light peeking through the thin curtains, like as if the sun had known just exactly how to illuminate your face to make you look like a elysian angel

swiftly, he makes his way to his bed where you sit. you flash him his favorite soft smile of yours and his knees nearly buckle on the spot. you were so doing this on purpose. you close your book and place it on his bedside table before patting the spot beside you for him to sit. and he does, most definitely, without another thought lays beside you. should he make a move and risk being late to training? or perhaps allow you to sit there and look perfect while he suffers horribly? he chose the first option. he urgently connects his lips with yours, sliding a hand underneath his/your sweatshirt. you attempt several times to call out his name, maybe for an explanation as to what the fuck he’s doing, but you can’t find it in yourself to care what he’s doing or why he’s doing it because you’re just happy he’s here and he’s kissing you

with his free hand, jason holds your jaw to assure you can’t part from him as his tongue swipes over your lower lip before you part your lips so it can enter. he lets out a hum of satisfaction when you grant him permission, surely taking full advantage of it. while on the other hand (quite literally), his fingers trail downwards to loop around your lacy underwear, currently the only thing you had been wearing underneath the sweatshirt. painfully slow he slides them down your legs (but again at the same time it was incredibly swift), yet still unsatisfied with the clothing you had own, he pulls back with a frown. with a quiet “life up a little” you elevate yourself from your position so he can remove his/your sweatshirt from yourself before you lay back down as his fingers now find a pathway up your bare thighs

and without a warning (though you should’ve seen this coming), he plugs two fingers into you, eliciting a strangled— somewhere between— a moan and a gasp from you at the sudden pleasurable sensation. his pace begins slow, starting off easy so you can adjust to him at once. but, soon enough he quickens it. you murmur some incoherent ‘sentences’ between soft noises, and as his fingers curl inside you, your mind turns into complete clouds, stopping anything but his name to leave your reddened lips. you tug at his blond hair as you feel yourself growing closer to your climax. what even more so makes your breath grows (progressively) ragged is when you feel an electric shock flow through your veins, once, and twice. at this point you’re completely starry eyed, you arch yourself into him for further pleasure, your moans becoming louder, your legs shaking about ready to collapse beneath you, your hair sticks to your sweat-veiled face— you’re a mess

finally, his fingers curl into you once more, bringing you to the edge. slowing down by only a tad, he continues working you, prolongs your orgasm as you dig your nails into his biceps and you cry out his name. and with one final swirl through you, jason slides his fingers out of you and meets your tear-brimmed eyes with a smirk

“sorry ‘bout that. you look gorgeous in my clothes though, have I told you that before?”

[gourmand-cookie]

[Bard & Beasts] Mystic Flour Cookie x Bard!Reader: Elysian Serendipity

inspired by @brittle-doughie's bard reader (i hold that request he's made for me close to my heart <3) also, this is my first time writing x reader content, please be kind

You've heard of her, through whispers of awe and adoration. How she could grant wishes to any and all, big or small.

But that's left you wondering...

When was the last time someone granted a wish of hers?

AKA Your first meeting with Mystic Flour Cookie during the Halcyon Days.

tags: Gender Neutral!Reader, Flashbacks, First Meetings, Fluff, Reader is called Bard Cookie, Serenading, Friendship, Cookies Have Human Traits, Cookies Are Still Cookies, Canon Compliant, ANIMATIC BELOW IS MINE! :3

"Hey, Bard Cookie?" You shift to look towards the sheepish voice that came from Gingerbrave, blinking idly as you wait for him to gather his words.

"What is it, Gingerbrave?" You give a gentle nudge amidst the silence, taking note on how Wizard Cookie and Strawberry were trying their best to look like they weren't eavesdropping, they've grown into strong and crispy cookies but it's clear they're still a little soft inside.

You don't mind their curiosity, there's not much they can do when you're all stuck in the air, headed for Beast Yeast after all.

"So, you said you've lived in Beast Yeast a long time ago, right? Can you tell us anything about that place?" Gingerbrave tunes you back in with his question, eager to know, stepping forward with that unusual brevity that leads you to soft laughter.

You don't miss how the rest, even Pure Vanilla Cookie, were now perking up at the prospect of hearing something new about an era older than them.

"Hmm." Instinctively, your hands reach around your back to grasp an instrument, pausing as your fingers feel the thrumming warmth of one made of spice and charred remnants.

"Why should I tell you..." Your words trail off, unaware of their shared looks of confusion and concern.

Your hand passes over to pull out a well loved guitar, made of wood and sugar that didn't smell of smoke to strum a familiar melody into the piece.

"When I could sing it instead?"

You've heard of her, through whispers of awe and adoration. How she could grant wishes to any and all, big or small.

But that's left you wondering...

When was the last time someone granted a wish of hers?

You were young and ambitious, nothing but a flute in hand and your ragged cloak, a scrappy cookie amongst the many others, it was a wonder you reached her that very same day.

"What is it that you wish for?" Perhaps you did have something to wish for but all you had back then was one question.

"What about you, what do you wish for?" It had caught her by surprise, your question alongside the way your confident smile wavered but eyes shining with dedication.

You'll never forget the way she smiled and asked for a simple song, having seen the flute tucked behind your person.

And for a moment, the pagoda was filled with the distinct sound of a flute, you played the best you could and she listened to your serene melody.

Alas, all things come to an end, your time together interrupted by the others who wanted their wishes to be heard.

You left your flute with her, with the promise to play for her again when you come by once more.

(You wonder if it's still there, you didn't have it in you to check before leaving your home.)

[moonstruckme]

MAE BODYGUARD JAMES IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OML

maybe one where the reader burns herself (totally not projecting) but you did say Halloween stuff so many bodyguard James take reader Halloween costume shopping? I'm thinking she goes in smt skimpy and we get protective jamie?

anyways i hadnt thought any of that out I came running when you said bodyguard so hope that strikes some inspiration and thank you so much!!

Thank you for your request lovely!!

cw: alcohol mention

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 462 words

“You are not making my job any easier, babe.” James glares at a Jack Sparrow getting too close to you. The guy changes course. 

You laugh. “What, I’m keeping things interesting for you! I thought you were getting bored.” 

James had said that. You can hunker down better than anyone he knows, even Remus, and he was getting worried about how much time you spent at home. If he knew you to be anything less than the sweetheart you are, he’d almost suspect you made your Halloween plans specifically to force him to eat his words. 

The downtown is pandemonium. Colorful costumes and drunken revelers and a cacophony of musics pouring out from different doorways. It’s chaotic enough that James half expects to spot Sirius somewhere in the crowd, dragging a begrudging Remus into a nightclub. People get bolder with masks and booze, and you—whether they know who you are or not—make a perfect target. 

You’re dressed like an angel from the devil’s fantasies, white lingerie and lacy thigh-highs and a cute pair of wings strapped to your back. It should take all the virtue out of the look, but there’s still an aura of sweetness about you, captured in the apples of your cheeks and the cute, curious way you look at the scene around you. James calls you angel more often than his supervisor would likely approve of, and tonight everyone can see how well it suits. 

“I think there’s probably a middle ground,” says James, taking your elbow to tug you gently away from a clown stumbling into your path, “between spending all day in your room and this.” 

You turn towards him. James’ hand moves to the small of your back instinctively, bringing you closer to him and away from the crowd. Your white makeup shimmers, making your eyes look big and sparkly as you gaze up at him. 

“We can go home if you want to,” you say in a quiet, private voice. “I don’t want to stress you out.” 

James looks at you. Elysian and hopeful, your cheap halo listing to one side. A girl like you deserves to be flirted with. James knows he’s a massive cockblock (and he’s not going to pretend to feel bad about that), but he can follow you wherever you want to go and buy you drinks and turn threatening looks on anyone who comes too close to you if it means you’ll have a good time. 

He straightens your halo for you. “Where do you want to go first?” 

You beam. “Really?” 

“Really.” James gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, and with his other hand halts a cowboy who’s trying to come up to you. The guy holds up his hands, backing off. “But you’ll have to stay close.”

[wildestdreamsblog]

Elysian: a Latibule Spinoff

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I'm still not over not being able to buy Hoseok's ticket ˙ᵕ˙ but I hope you enjoy this! And please do leave comments/reblogs. Honestly, that's what keeps me going

Masterlist, Part VII of __

“I’m pretty sure this is a violation of workplace ethics or something.”

Kim Seokjin turned to look at you innocently, a hint of smile on his plump lips before he returned his gaze to the road. He didn’t even need to look at the road for too long before replying, his voice teasing and light.

“Driving you home is a violation of work ethics?” he asked in an innocent voice, raising his dark brows as though in puzzlement.

You huffed and sank deeper into the plush leather seat of his car, crossing your arms tighter. It was hard to keep the anger up when you were sitting in this ridiculously comfortable vehicle, the kind of car that practically sucked you in, making it feel like you could nap your way through the rest of the evening. And to make matters worse, it was hard to hold onto the frustration when Seokjin was treating you with such unsettling kindness after manipulating the situation to get you trapped in his presence for an entire month.

You wanted nothing more than to move on from the embarrassment you brought upon yourself. You shouldn’t have taken a liking on someone you couldn’t have. Why? Because well… they might turn out to be someone you couldn’t shake so easily. They might turn into someone who would latch onto you so hard you cannot just leave them that easily. They might turn into someone who would drag the HR department for this!

You wondered what you did wrong in your past life to have met such man who seemed to both make your life difficult and easy at the same time. You looked at him now in a different light. There was more to him than meets the eyes.

And perhaps you stared at him for too long because the corners of his lips lifted up. He looked extremely pleased as he turned to you when the light turned red. “I’m like a star, right? You just can’t help but to look at me. I understand,” he noted with a heavy and dramatic sigh as though his belief that he was just too handsome was starting to take a toll on him.

Blinking owlishly at his audacity, you couldn’t stop a laugh from releasing. This was the first time he’d outright admitted his beauty in front of you. It was just he used to runaway from you, literally, every time you flirted with him. So having him acknowledged his visual quite frankly shook you.

And he was enjoying seeing you speechless. He smiled at you, his eyes twinkling before he drove as soon as the light turned green.

"Are you seriously just saying that?" you asked, half amused, half annoyed.

Seokjin’s smile widened as he met your incredulous stare. "Well, yes," he said matter-of-factly. "I shine so bright, it’s only natural that you’re drawn to me."

“A sun is a star…” you trailed off, not willing to backdown from the man whose treatment of you gave you whiplash. “and it’s painful to look at.”

He chuckled, “Are you saying I’m a sun?”

“I’m just stating that a sun is a star…and you just likened yourself to a star,” you smirked at him, thinking that you have won.

“Because I shine so bright.”

“No,” you shot back. “Because you’re constantly radiating hot air and therefore, giving everyone around you a headache. Me specifically."

“And I’m a center of the solar system,” he replied with a self-satisfied smirk that made you want to hit and kick him out of the car. Your internal monologue screamed for escape. You were about to lose your mind—or maybe just throw yourself out of the car. It would be a form of self-preservation.

You groaned all the way home and he just laughed it off.

The moment you arrived, though, he looked at you, still grinning. "Don’t worry," he said, his voice almost too sweet for the situation. "You can stare at me more tomorrow."

“Good morning!”

You looked up at the sky, praying for patience you didn’t have before locking eyes with his overly cheerful gaze.

Kim Seokjin, as early as 5 in the morning, was standing in front of your small apartment building. He was leaning against his car, looking refreshed and practically glowing despite the early morning. He was wearing a crisp blue shirt that, though you hated to admit it, suited him and hugged him in all the right places.

The bastard looked good in everything.

“It’s too early, Doctor Kim,” you grumbled, trying to force a smile as you fought the urge to close your eyes and retreat back to the comfort of your bed. “The sun hasn’t even shine. Give it a chance to shine– please– before you annoy me.”

He chuckled, uncrossing his arms and effortlessly opening the passenger door for you. “What are you talking about? I’m already here.” He gestured to himself. “The sun is already shining.”

You shot him a fake smile, “No, thank you. My shift starts at 7. I have just about 2 hours left before I have to deal with your annoying face. Goodbye.”

The sweet taste of success and freedom was so near. You turned on your heel and started walking away, relieved to escape the early morning nonsense. The morning was still quiet, with only the distant sounds of neighbors waking up to their routines. The ten-minute walk to the bus stop was just enough time to clear your thoughts, to temporarily forget about the irritating, handsome man that just wouldn’t leave you alone.

When you reached the bus stop, you tapped your card and settled in the back, grateful for a few minutes of solitude. You closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the brief silence before the madness of the day started.

“Sir, you have to tap your card,” the driver berated someone, his voice sharp. “Sir, please. Your card doesn’t work here!”

You had just shut your eyes when you heard that all too familiar voice.

“Why not? This is a black card…”

Your eyes snapped open, watching in horror as Seokjin repeatedly tapped his card to no avail. He turned to you with a frown in his face before calling for you. “Sunshine! My card doesn’t work! Help!” He did it again for another measure as though showing you that his card was not working and the beeping sound of the machine’s rejection jolted you awake.

The other passengers were now all looking at you, some of them silently urging you to do something. You could practically feel their impatience radiating from their gazes.

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. You bowed your head to the other passengers before quickly rushing to the front of the bus to tap your own card. You gave Seokjin a pointed glare before yanking him toward the empty seat beside you.

Seokjin just smiled in return, like the entire situation was some sort of game. “What are you even doing here?” you asked, trying to suppress the mounting frustration.

 “Going to the hospital.”

“What about your car!” you asked, still baffled by his presence.

“Left it there.”

You blinked at him, a disbelieving look crossing your face. “You know it’s a bad neighborhood, right? I can’t even assure you that your car would still have wheels when you get back. No, scratch that, I can guarantee it’ll be missing at least two of them.”

“Insurance will take care of it,” he replied, waiving your concern away in indifference before turning to you, his shoulder grazing yours. He thought you were so cute to worry about him when he was quite frankly the most dangerous of them all. “What do you want for breakfast?”

You squinted your eyes at his carefree attitude. “You know, when someone says goodbye to you, you know, like I did just moments ago, it usually means that they are leaving. So why are you here?”

He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “I didn’t accept your goodbye.”

You groaned, exasperated. “Seokjin, that’s not how it works—”

He cut you off with a smile that sent an unreasonably warm shiver down your spine. “I like it when you say my name.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up from his nonchalant admittance and yes, he was too close for comfort.

“I…I think I’d call the HR and take the suspension instead.”

---

Your day was filled and you barely had time for yourself. From meetings to research to the therapies, you were feeling drained and it was only 2 pm.

You missed lunch again, you thought, as you bade goodbye to your patient. Despite the weariness, you felt accomplished and at peace knowing that you were helping people. The mind was a peculiar organ, one that barely showed outwardly symptoms when sick. Unlike other sickness in which patients only ever really needed medicine or in extreme cases, surgery to get better, people suffering from mental health needed more than those things. They needed courage to face them. They needed willingness to get better.

More often than not, these people get blamed for how they feel. Did they not realize that no one chose to feel that way?

You were craning your neck as you stepped out of your office, your mind wondering what to eat when you saw him in the waiting room, his eyes trained on the tablet he was reading. His long legs were crossed, his posture perfect as though he was someone regal.

The receptionist immediately neared you, “Doctor Kim has been waiting for you for two hours now.”

 What?

Not knowing how to respond to that, you walked to him. You weren’t even within his line of sight but as though he was atuned to you, he looked up. He blinked, his beautiful eyes mesmerizing the fuck out of you like the first time you saw him in that lobby.

Kim Seokjin simply looked like the prince you inevitably fell in love with despite knowing that nothing good would come out of it.

“Hi, sunshine. You done?”

“H-have you been waiting for me?”

Kim Seokjin gave you a soft, almost teasing smile, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. "You think I have anything better to do?" He gestured to the empty waiting room, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Besides, I like the view here. It's a good place to relax, especially when the company is... fascinating."

“Kim Seok-”

“Anyway, you haven’t eaten,” he announced as he stood up, gesturing to the takeouts you didn’t notice before. “Let’s eat. I’m starving,” he noted nonchalantly near your ear as though teasing you before sauntering to your office like he owned the place…which, in hindsight, he truly did.

He sat in front of you with that small smile in his face that made him look like a hamster with his cheeks puffed up. You, on the other hand, were astonished at the number of tupperwares in front of you. They were still warm and the aroma was enough for your stomach to announce that it had been starved.

“Tsk tsk,” Seokjin started piling your plate. “You know the consequences of starving yourself. You’re a doctor. You should be more careful. You’re the one taking care of patients. How will you take care of them if you get sick, huh? How? Our bodies need nutrients- you like this, right?” he placed kimchi on your plate, having remembered that you ate a lot of it in the dinner back when Jungkook invited you. “-to nourish us properly. You can’t just survive on caffeine and stubbornness. Seriously, how do you survive?” He continued chiding you,

“Oh my God, you’re a mom,” you realized as you slowly picked up your chopsticks. “When did you even have the time to cook all these?”

Seokjin smiled at your remark. Jungkook would have a field day hearing you tell him that. He already called him Eomma Jin every time he nagged his brothers.

“I woke up at 3 in the morning. No big deal.”

Your eyes widened as you stared at him in disbelief. “Three in the morning?” you echoed, chopsticks frozen midair.

Seokjin merely shrugged, chewing on his food like it was the most casual thing in the world. “Yeah. I had some free time.”

“You had free time at three in the morning?” you asked, voice laced with equal parts amusement and horror. “What kind of person just wakes up in the middle of the night and decides, ‘Oh, let me cook a whole feast’? I swear to God, rich people are just built differently. Do you have more than 24 hours a day or something?”

“I knew you were going to starve yourself just like you do everyday-”

“How do you know that?!”

“Am I wrong, though? Anyway. Eat. I have meeting in 10 minutes.”

You began eating. You would admit that if he wanted, he could be a chef. Seokjin, on the other hand, was quietly reading on his tablet as he ate. Throughout the meal, his phone would ring and he would answer them quietly, all while reading on his tablet. He would answer emails, read diagnosis and add food on your plate.

It was apparent that he was a busy man. You knew he was busy so how come he was here in front of you? How come he cooked at 3 in the morning to go to your house at 5 in the morning?

And when you were done eating, he looked up and smiled at you.

“See you later, sunshine.”

Day 7 of the slavery one-month contract with Kim Seokjin and it was starting to make you feel insane. It was gnawing on what was left of your sanity and control, and you still had 23 days left.

He had effectively taken control over your day. If he saw that your schedule was a bit tight, he would make adjustments. You did try to complain but all your complaints were met with indulgent smile and he would still end up doing what he thought was best for you.

But seriously, it was a Sunday. For heaven’s sake, it was a Sunday. A Lord’s day, if you will.

So why, in hell, was he waiting for you in front of the church when you clearly informed him that even assistants have day-offs and that it was Sunday and you had plans.

“You’re almost late, sunshine,” he chided you playfully as he waited for you to near him.

“How are you allowed here? This is a church. And I’m not entirely sure that you’re not the opposite of lightness,” you grumbled, stopping in front of him with narrowed eyes. “Shouldn’t you burst into flames the second you step on holy ground?”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse me? Are you calling me unholy?”

“I’m calling you a morally questionable character. Unholy? I’m not yet a hundred percent sure,” you clarified, crossing your arms. “It’s Sunday, Seokjin. Sunday. What part of ‘day off’ do you not understand?”

“But I need your assistance to become holy. I mean, if you’re going to heaven, shouldn’t I follow you there, too?” he replied innocently, his lips in a pout as though he was seriously considering doing every holy thing to grant him entrance in heaven. He knew where he was going after this life, though. It didn’t mean that he would stop trying.

“What the fu-”

“Shhh!” Seokjin reprimanded you, his index finger on your lips. “God will hear you!”

You froze, eyes widening at the audacity of this man—this ridiculous, infuriating, entirely too smug man who had the nerve to shush you in front of an actual church.

And worse? He lingered.

Seokjin’s finger and eyes lingered for a moment before he pulled it away with a satisfied nod, as if he had successfully prevented you from committing some grave sin and saving you from eternal damnation. “There. That’s better,” he said approvingly.

You felt yourself blushed at his proximity. Not more than a month ago, you were crushing so hard on this fine specimen and then he had to open his mouth which made you realized that you the gap was just too wide. You were too messed up for someone as perfect as he was.

You thought that he was doing this now because he didn’t know the whole story yet. If he knew, you were sure that he was going to run to the hills and never look at you again.

“Seriously, Jin–”

He shook his head, tsking like you were the unreasonable one. Then, before you could react, his fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you forward. "Stop crushing my spiritual growth," he said, dragging you inside the church like a wayward disciple.

You barely had time to protest before—

"Oh, what a beautiful young couple," a voice cooed.

You turned to find an elderly woman smiling warmly at you both, her gaze kind and approving.

"Thank you!" Seokjin responded immediately, his face lighting up as if she'd just handed him a Nobel Prize.

You nearly choked.

"We’re not—"

“A good man will always lead his beloved to the right path,” She added.

Seokjin nodded solemnly. “That’s what I keep telling her.”

You nearly choked on air.

“I swear to God—”

Seokjin squeezed your hand again, this time in warning, before you could finish that particular phrase in front of the church altar. His grip was warm, firm, and entirely too familiar, and for a brief, horrifying moment, you were aware of just how natural it felt.

This man was going to be the death of you.

With a polite nod to the old woman, Seokjin tugged you along, leading you to a pew as if he actually planned on sitting through the service. You, on the other hand, were still trying to recover from the absolute nonsense that had just unfolded.

The second you both sat down, you leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “What the hell was that?”

Seokjin shrugged, all too pleased with himself. “Just a little divine intervention.”

“You just lied to a sweet old lady in church.”

He gasped, affronted. “I did not lie.”

“You let her think we’re together!”

“I merely accepted her kind words.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “You really need to work on your gratitude, sunshine.”

You clenched your fists, inhaled deeply, and stared straight ahead. You weren’t going to let him get to you. You weren’t.

But then, the next thing he said nearly sent you straight into the afterlife.

“So, should we pick a wedding date now, or—?”

You nearly fell out of the pew.

Before you could even finish that thought, you snapped your hands together in the most desperate prayer you’d ever uttered in your life. You looked up and begged.

Lord, please don’t let me fall for this man. Please.

[msbigredmachine]

My Angel, My Love (Roman Reigns)

For their first Valentine’s, Roman and Naima indulge in passion, laughter, and love. From heartfelt gifts to stolen touches over dinner, every moment is intoxicating. In each other, they’ve found something rare, something real…and tonight proves it again.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This is based off characters from my multi-chapter Roman fic, Finding Angel.

Naima sits at her desk, the glow of her laptop screen the only light in the quiet bedroom. It’s well past midnight, but sleep isn’t even a thought. Not when she’s been obsessing over every cut, every transition, every second of this video.

Their first Valentine’s Day.

She wants this to be right. Not extravagant, not over the top—just something that means something. Something that captures what they’ve become.

A year ago, she never could’ve imagined this. That he would be hers. That she’d be sitting here, heart full, carefully piecing together their story, one that unfolded in ways she never expected but, somehow, felt inevitable.

With a practiced eye, she scrolls through her camera roll, pulling out clips that define them.

Roman carrying her suitcase through an airport, looking back at her with that teasing smirk.

A blurry shot of them laughing in the car, her filming him as he rants about Atlanta traffic.

His big hand wrapped around hers as they walk through a city, fingers interlocked like they always should be.

A quiet moment in bed, his arm slung over her waist, sharing soft, sweet kisses that were clearly leading to something more.

A snippet of her in the crowd at his match at last year’s Wrestlemania, eyes locked on him, the camera catching the pride on her face.

Her surprising him with his favorite sushi tray one random afternoon, him beaming at the camera as he holds them up.

Him showering her with hundred-dollar bills at Exotica, her laughing as she twerks on him, giving him his money’s worth, Jimmy and Naomi hyping them up in the VIP section.

A clip of them at the beach, her on his back, both of them soaked from the ocean waves.

The late-night drive where she caught him singing along to a song he swore he didn’t know.

She threads them together seamlessly, using the same precision she applies to her work on the Elysian Moves Instagram page. The pacing, the music, the way each moment flows into the next—it all has to feel right. Like them.

She keeps the full video at a minute, a perfect distillation of what they are. Then she creates a shorter, 30-second version for Instagram, something the world can see.

But it’s the captions that make it.

Little statements appear throughout the video, subtle yet intentional.

I didn’t see you coming, but somehow, you’ve always felt meant to be.

You are home.

I didn’t just fall in love with you. I ran into love with you.

My safe space. My love. My person.

And at the very end, the words that make her heart tighten as she types them out:

I love you, Roman.

Naima exhales, staring at the finished product.

She hopes he feels this.

The wheels of the jet touch down with a smooth glide, and Roman exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he leans back in his seat. He’s flown in and out of Atlanta more times than he can count, but these days, the trips feel different.

For years, this city had been a checkpoint. A place he passed through for work, for college, for obligations that didn’t leave much room for sentimentality. Georgia Tech was where he honed his discipline, his drive. Back then, Atlanta had been about chasing a dream. But now, it’s about her.

Naima.

This city—her city—has become something else entirely. A place that pulls him back in ways he never expected. He used to come here for matches, media, appearances. Now? Now he comes because he wants to. Because she’s here.

His schedule isn’t as relentless as it used to be, something he made sure of. A few years ago, the thought of stepping back from WWE, of letting someone else carry the load, would’ve been unthinkable. But things change. Priorities shift. He spent over a decade giving everything to the business. He’s still him, still the Tribal Chief, still at the top—but he’s also a man who wants more than just titles and main events.

He wants her.

And if cutting back means more time with Naima, more time wrapped up in her warmth, in her world, then it’s worth it. She’s worth it.

As the jet rolls to a stop, he rubs a hand over his jaw, exhaling.

Valentine’s Day.

He’s never been the sentimental type. His last couple of Valentine’s had been…transactional, at best. A quick call to his assistant, a luxury gift delivered to Princess, his ex-fiancée, a generic message attached. No real thought. No real feeling. Just an obligation.

But this year is different.

This year, he actually wants to make it special. For her.

Because Naima isn’t some obligation. She’s his woman. His love.

And that alone makes all the difference.

Late morning sun filters through the windows, casting soft light over the soft interior of Naima’s townhouse. Roman is stretched out on her couch, shirtless, gray sweatpants worn low on his hips—because of course. One arm rests along the back of the couch, the other wrapped around a cold bottle of water. His focus drifts between SportsCenter and the plate of wings and Valentine’s-themed cookies laid before him on the coffee table.

He’s comfortable. Content.

Naima plops down beside him, her body warm against his, fitting into his side like she belongs there. Without thinking, he tugs her closer, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against her hip.

She presses her phone into his hand. “I have a surprise for you,” she says, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

His brows lift. “Yeah?”

She nods, biting her bottom lip. There’s something in her eyes; something nervous, something deep.

Roman notices everything when it comes to her.

“What is it?” he asks, tilting his head.

Her fingers tighten slightly around his forearm. “One of your Valentine’s gifts.”

His lips twitch. “One of them? You out here spoiling me, baby?”

“Maybe.” She grins, but there’s a flicker of hesitation beneath it. Because this? This is something big.

Roman is private—fiercely so. He’s always kept their relationship just between them, away from prying eyes. And Naima has come to understand that, to respect it, embrace it even. But her love for him is too vast, too consuming to be hidden away. It fills every inch of her. And now, she wants the world to see it.

She just hopes he understands.

Roman studies her for a beat, then shifts his gaze to the phone in his hand, pressing play.

She watches him as he watches the video. Watches the subtle changes in his breathing, the way his chest rises and falls a little deeper. Watches his lips part slightly, his jaw tighten as he swallows hard.

By the time the final words appear on-screen—I love you, Roman—he’s completely still.

The weight of it settles over him, sinks into him.

Naima tightens her grip on his bicep, pursing her lips against it. “I wanted you to know,” she murmurs. “And I want the world to know, too.”

He doesn’t speak right away. Just stares at the screen, his fingers tightening slightly around the phone. Then, after a moment, he blinks, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip as he exhales sharply.

“You tryna make me soft, baby?” His voice is husky, rough around the edges.

She tilts her head up, brushing her fingers along his arm. “You're already soft for me, big daddy. Just making sure you feel how much I love you.”

Roman sets the phone down, turning toward her. His hand cups the side of her face, his touch gentle despite the sheer size of it. His thumb brushes along her jaw, reverent.

“I feel it, baby,” he murmurs. “I feel it every day. But this?” He shakes his head, eyes dark, voice thick. “This hits different.”

Naima swallows, emotions swelling in her heart. “Good.”

A quiet, shaky chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he presses his forehead to hers, exhaling deeply. “You know I love you too, right?” His voice dips, heavy with feeling. “So much.”

She smiles softly. “Yeah, I know.”

He kisses her, slow and sensual and full of everything he can’t quite put into words. And when he finally pulls back, he lingers, resting his forehead against hers. Shaking his head, he huffs out a small, incredulous laugh.

“Baby, you done set the bar too high for Valentine’s now.”

Naima grins against his lips. “Guess you gotta step your game up, big daddy.”

He smirks, eyes warm, adoring. “Oh, I will.” He kisses her again, soft and teasing. “Anything for you.”

Valentine’s Day

Naima barely stirs when Roman lifts her into his arms, her body naturally curling into his warmth. She mumbles something against his chest, too groggy to form actual words.

Roman just chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple as he carries her and their wiggling four-month-old Staffordshire Bull Terrier, Chief, out of her townhouse and into his waiting Rolls-Royce Cullinan. He settles her into the passenger seat, closes her door and rounds the hood of the car. By the time he gets in, Naima has already slumped against the headrest, eyes barely open.

“Mm,” she groans sleepily, “Where we goin’?”

“My crib,” he murmurs cryptically, rubbing her thigh as he pulls off.

She dozes off again, lulled by the quiet hum of the luxury SUV and the warmth of his hand on her. She stirs slightly when they pull into the underground parking of his Atlanta condo, and Roman takes his time waking her up, brushing soft kisses along her jaw.

“Wake up, baby,” he whispers. “We’re here.”

Naima groans in protest but lets him help her out of the car, half-leaning into him as they take the elevator up. Chief, full of morning energy, tugs at his leash, eager to explore.

When the door to the lavish condo swings open, Naima steps inside—and stops.

The entire space is filled with balloons.

They float against the ceiling, tied to chairs and tables, surrounding the entire living room. Red, pink, white, all scattered amongst oversized I Love You balloons. Rose petals trail from the entrance toward the bedroom, and the soft melody of D’Angelo’s “Lady” hums through the speakers.

Her breath catches.

She’s been wined and dined before. She’s had men try to impress her with extravagant gifts, luxury trips, money—so much money. But this? This feels a whole lot different. This feels intentional.

She turns, still taking it all in, before her gaze finds Roman’s.

“You did all this?” Her voice is soft, almost disbelieving.

Roman steps up behind her, his big arms sliding around her waist as he nuzzles into her neck. “Yeah. Made a lot of calls, but I did it.”

Her hands rest over his, pressing them closer against her stomach. “You really tryna make me cry first thing in the morning?”

Roman grins, kissing her exposed shoulder. “Nah, but if you did, I wouldn’t be mad at it.”

Naima shakes her head, biting her lip to keep from smiling too hard. “You're ridiculous.”

Before Roman can respond,

Pop!

Both their heads snap toward the sound just in time to see Chief bouncing on his hind legs, snapping his tiny jaws at one of the balloons. He jumps again, missing but determined.

“This damn dog,” Roman groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Boy! Leave the damn balloons alone.”

Chief barks once, his little tail wagging, then leaps, almost getting the string between his teeth.

Naima giggles, turning back to her man. “This is just the beginning of the day?”

He slides his hands down to her hips, squeezing lightly. “Just the beginning, beautiful.”

The rest of their day unfolds effortlessly.

They spend the afternoon wrapped up in each other, lounging around the condo in comfortable silence. Roman, freshly showered and dressed in nothing but sweats, flips through channels, occasionally distracted by Naima as she scrolls through her phone, stretched out across his lap. Chief sprawls on the floor near their feet, snoring softly.

At various points, Roman surprises her with gifts—luxury perfume, a pair of Chopard diamond earrings, and a silk robe so soft it feels like water against her skin.

Naima stares at the earrings for a long moment before looking up at him. “Dude, you are spoiling the hell outta me.”

Roman smirks. “Ain’t that my job?”

She tilts her head, studying him with something unreadable in her gaze. Then, without a word, she gets up, disappearing into the bedroom. When she returns, there’s a sleek, velvet box in her hands.

Roman raises an eyebrow as she places it on his lap. “What’s this?”

“Another gift.”

He eyes her, then the box, before flipping it open.

Inside sits a stunning, custom-designed gold bracelet, thick yet refined, engraved with the words My Ali’i. 

My Chief in Samoan. In delicate script.

Roman’s lips part slightly.

Naima watches him carefully, a little nervous. “I know you don’t do a lot of jewelry, but I saw this and thought-”

Roman doesn’t let her finish.

He pulls her onto his lap, cupping her face in both hands before kissing her deeply, his mouth warm and hungry against hers. By the time he pulls back, Naima’s breathing is uneven, her fingers curled into his chest.

“Baby,” he murmurs, voice rough. “I love it.”

She exhales, relieved. “Yeah?”

Roman smirks, cups her shapely hips. “Now you really got me out here tryna make sure I earn this title.”

Naima laughs softly, her fingers threading into his hair as she tugs him closer. “You already do, big guy.”

Her hands drift lower, slipping beneath his waistband, fingers wrapping around his thick length. Roman groans, his grip on her hips tightening as she pushes his sweats down just enough to free him. She meets his gaze, her eyes dark with intent, before sinking down on his dick.

“Fuck,” he grits out, his head falling back as his fingers dig into her skin.

Naima grins, rolling her hips, watching his control unravel. “Better hold on, Tribal Chief.”

As evening falls, Roman tells her to get dressed. They’re going out. He doesn’t say where, but Naima already knows he’s about to pull out all the stops, like always.

She takes her time getting ready, and steps out in a scandalous red latex dress that fits like it was poured onto her body; glossy, tight, strapless, and short enough to flaunt every inch of her toned, impossibly long legs. Her skin glows under the soft lighting, dewy and radiant, her hair sleek and wet as if she just emerged from a fantasy Roman didn’t even know he needed.

His jaw flexes, his fingers twitch at his sides, and his already low patience for the world outside of her dissolves instantly.

Waiting by the kitchen, dressed in an all-black button-down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up just enough to tease that thick, tattooed forearm of his, he looks good. Too good. And when his dark eyes drag over her, slow and smoldering, Naima's breath catches.

Clearly, the feeling is mutual.

“Baby…” His voice is dangerously low, thick with admiration and something darker. “You tryna unalive me, baby?”

Naima swallows, gathering herself before stepping closer, smoothing a hand over his jawline. “Maybe. You like it, daddy?”

Roman's hands find her waist, tugging her in just enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him. “I always do, mamas.”

Her eyes roam over him, appreciation gleaming in their depths. “You look so damn good.” She bites her lip, fingers lingering on his face. “You sure we’ll be able to keep our hands to ourselves tonight?”

Roman smirks, his grip on her waist tightening as he leans down, his lips brushing her ear.

“Oh, we won’t, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dark and promising. “Matter of fact, I’m already tryin’ to figure out which part of the night I’m gonna have you bent over.”

Naima gasps. “Baby!”

He merely laughs, taps her ass and leads her out of the condo.

They leave in his Rolls-Royce, Naima still clueless about their destination. When they arrive, she realizes the restaurant is completely empty.

She turns to him, wide-eyed. “You cleared out the whole place?”

Roman smiles, his fingers threading through hers. “Only the best for my girl.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, still getting used to this. She’s been around wealthy men before, but none of them move like him. None of them make her feel like this.

Dinner is intimate. Their dinner is indulgent yet refined, a perfect reflection of the night.

They start with a rich lobster bisque and warm, crusty bread, though Roman’s wagyu beef tartare gets a playful nose wrinkle from Naima. For the main course, he enjoys a perfectly seared bone-in ribeye with truffle mashed potatoes, while she savors butter-poached lobster tail with Parmesan risotto. Sipping on a deep Cabernet, Roman keeps her glass full, his eyes never leaving her. Dessert is a molten chocolate lava cake, and when Naima hums in pleasure at the first bite, Roman leans in, his voice dark and ominous, 

“Keep making noises like that and we gon’ cut this dinner short.”

Naima smirks, taking another slow, deliberate bite, her pretty eyes shining with mischief.

Roman huffs, shaking his head. “Baby girl, you play too much.”

It’s always like this with them; this effortless push and pull, the teasing undercurrent woven into every glance, every touch. He watches her sip her wine, watches that smug little smirk every time she catches him staring. The candlelight flickers between them, casting a warm glow over a love that burns just as intensely.

Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, Naima's voice softens. “Babe…what do you see for us?” she asks.

Roman watches her, the cerebral being that he is taking his time to digest the loaded question. “What do you see?” he gently counters.

She hesitates. “A future.”

His gaze darkens with something deeper. “Good. ‘Cause I see the same thing.”

Her heart stumbles. After everything he’s been through, after everything they’ve been through, it’s almost a shock that he feels this way. About her. And yet, it isn’t.

Roman reaches for her hand, his grip warm, steady, full of quiet promises. “I want it all with you, Nai. Whenever you’re ready,” he vows.

Naima swallows hard, squeezing his hand. She may not be ready yet, and he knows that. Their love still feels too good to be true. But when she is, he’ll be the first to know.

This place is straight vibes. 

An upscale lounge with an old-school feel, where dim lighting meets the golden era of 90s R&B and hip-hop. The bass thrums through the space, the atmosphere thick with a sultry energy that wraps around them the moment they step inside. Roman takes her hand, leading her straight to the VVIP section where a plush leather couch waits. His whiskey arrives within minutes, but he barely touches it.

Because Naima is a problem tonight.

She’s out on the floor, lost in the music, that short-ass red dress clinging to every inch of her body like a second skin. Her hips move slow, teasing, rolling in time with the beat, her long waves cascading down her back. That butterfly tattoo on her hip peeks out every time she shifts just right, and he’s already decided he’s putting his mouth there before the night is over.

Men are watching her. They always do. But surprisingly, he doesn’t give a damn. Not tonight. Let them look. She knows where she’s going when this night ends.

She spins, eyes locking onto his, and her grin is electric. Aaliyah’s “Back & Forth” slides through the speakers, and she drops low, hands on her thighs, twerking to the rhythm, her ass practically begging for him to grab it.

The OTC exhales, shaking his head. This woman is gonna kill me.

Naima is tipsy. Loud, wild, his. Singing along at the top of her lungs when “This Is How We Do It” drops, throwing her hands up before dancing her way back toward him.

Roman is waiting, his massive frame sprawled across the couch, a lazy grin on his face.

“Come here,” he calls out over the music, motioning her over with a crook of his finger.

She doesn’t hesitate. Strutting toward him, her dress rides high on her thighs as she climbs into his lap, straddling him like she owns the damn place. She sets her drink down on the table without looking, wrapping her arms around his neck as Tamia’s “So Into You” begins to play.

“You know this one?” she asks, her voice breathy and playful.

Roman smirks, his hands immediately settling on her bare thighs, grunting as her cleavage inches towards his face. “’Course I do.”

She leans in closer, her lips by his ear as she begins to sing along, off-key and slurring slightly but sexy as hell.

I really like what you’ve done to me…

He exhales slowly, fingers flexing against her skin. She’s gonna make him do something reckless.

“You tryna start some shit in public, baby?” His voice is low, rough against her ear.

Naima bites her lip, shifting against him just right, feeling him harden beneath her. “Maybe.”

That’s all he needs.

His hand snakes around her neck, bringing her mouth to his in a kiss that starts slow but spirals into something messy, desperate. She tastes like wine and trouble, her fingers in his hair, his hands on her ass. The music, the crowd, all of it blurs into nothing.

She grinds down on him, rolling her hips in a way that makes his jaw clench, and he exhales sharply against her lips.

“We leavin’,” he growls.

She smirks, licking her lips. “Took your fine ass long enough.”

They barely make it to the car.

The Cullinan is parked in a private indoor lot behind the bar, discreet and empty. The second the door shuts behind them, Roman’s hands are on her, pushing her back against the seat.

Naima yelps, laughing breathlessly. “Roman, what the fuck-”

“Shut up.” His mouth crashes into hers again, swallowing the rest of her words.

She moans into the kiss, fingers tugging at his shirt, his belt. He yanks the hem of her dress up roughly, hands gripping her ass, pulling her forward.

“You know what you was doin’ back there,” he mutters against her lips, his voice thick with need.

She laughs breathlessly, lifting her hips to meet his touch. “What, you couldn’t handle it?”

Roman smirks, dark and dangerous. “Oh, I’ma handle it.”

He spins her, pressing her face down into the leather seat, hands sliding up her thighs, over her curves. Naima shudders, gasping as he kisses the back of her neck, down her spine.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with lust. His fingers slip between her thighs, tracing slow circles over the wetness seeping there. “Makin’ a mess on my seats already.”

She hisses as his grip tightens. “Don’t act like you not the one startin’ shit.”

Roman spanks her ass, chuckling darkly at her gasp. His lips ghost over her ear. “You been askin’ for this all night.” He rubs her pussy, and she trembles. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.”

Her nails scrape against the leather as she exhales shakily. “You already know.”

Roman grips her chin, tilting her face toward him. “Say it.”

Naima's mouth meets his, her gaze bold and unashamed. “I want you, big daddy.”

His growl rumbles through the space, and that’s all it takes before the car is filled with heat, moans, and the unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin. The windows fog, the Cullinan rocking slightly, her body arching into his with every frantic movement.

Roman keeps his grip on her hip, holding her steady as he drives into her, deep and unrelenting. The wet sounds of their bodies meeting fill the car, mingling with her breathy moans and his hungry groans.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits out, his lips pressed to her shoulder. His other hand cups her heavy, exposed breast, teasing her sensitive nipple. “You feel too damn good.”

Naima is gone, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving her. Every stroke hits just right, sending fire through her veins, tightening the coil low in her belly. Her hands press against the backseat window, her moans breaking apart as she meets his thrusts, chasing that edge.

“Roman…” she gasps, her voice shaky, “I…I’m close.”

He smirks against her skin, his pace shifting, his strokes deeper, dragging her right where he wants her. His fingers leave her breast and slide back down to where they’re joined, circling that sensitive bud, making her cry out.

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is thick, teasing, knowing. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

She doesn’t need much more than that. With a shuddering scream, she unravels, pleasure slamming into her, her walls pulsing around him. Her body trembles, back arching, thighs shaking as waves of euphoria crash through her.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Roman groans, feeling her tighten around his dick. He grips her harder, his own restraint crumbling. “Shit, you feel so good…”

He pumps deep in her, the pleasure climbing fast, and Naima, still breathless and floating from her own release, whispers, “Come in me, baby. Please.”

His jaw clenches. That does it. His thrusts stutter, his entire body tensing as he unloads in her with a guttural moan, his face buried in her neck as he comes hard. 

For a long moment, all that’s left is the sound of their ragged breathing. Then Naima, still sprawled out on the seat, groans. “We really just fucked in your damn Rolls Royce?”

Roman, still catching his breath, smirks against her neck. “Don’t act like you ain’t love every second of it.”

She laughs, breathless. “Ridiculous.”

He flops into a seated position and pulls her into his lap, kissing her deeply, his grip firm but gentle. “And you love it.”

She sighs, melting against him despite herself. “Love you.”

Roman just chuckles, nipping at her bottom lip. “I know you do.”

Morning comes too fast.

Naima blinks groggily, cheek pressed against his chest, his huge arm wrapped protectively around her. She stretches slightly, wincing at the awkward angle.

She looks around, realization dawning. “Oh god. We really slept in the car?”

Roman stirs beneath her, groaning as he cracks an eye open. “Damn.”

Naima sits up, adjusting her dress. “We look crazy.”

He pulls her back down, smirking. “We look like we had a hell of a Valentine’s.”

She rolls her eyes, but the smile she fights is undeniable and futile.

Roman kisses her mouth, fingers tracing slow circles against her hip. “Happy Valentine’s, baby.”

She sighs, nuzzling into him. “Happy Valentine’s, big guy.”

That evening, Naima uploads her Valentine’s Day  video to her Instagram, pairing it with a simple but heartfelt caption:

She sets her phone aside and curls up next to Roman on the couch, not thinking much about it after that. But within hours, the post explodes.

Thousands of likes pour in.

The comments flood in just as fast—friends, dancers from Elysian, fans of both her and Roman, all gushing over the video, over the way their love feels through the screen.

— Y’all are the definition of soulmates 🥰

— THE ROMANCE, I’M CRYING🥹

— Not me watching this 10 times in a row.

— She loves him OUT LOUD, we love to see it.

— This is my favorite couple ever idc idc.

— Roman won at life, fr.

And then Roman finally drops his comment underneath her post.

I love you.

No emojis. No extras. Just those three words. But somehow, it’s the realest, deepest thing he could’ve said.

Naima smiles, clicking on his profile.

And then she sees it.

Roman’s own post.

He’s reposted the video to his page, with a caption that makes her heart stop.

Every day with you is a gift. I love you, @naimurphy ❤️🥰#ForeverMyGirl

The moment it hits his page, the internet erupts.

— ROMAN JUST SHUT THE WHOLE TL DOWN WTF 🤯

— The way he loves her… I wanna experience that just once in my life.

— This man just said ‘mine’ without saying it.

— THE CAPTION THO 😭😭 #ForeverMyGirl

— Naima, you have been CHOSEN 😭

— Roman don’t be posting NOTHINGGG like this, omg 😭 Love is real.

— Their love is my Roman Empire.

— I need a man to repost me with this type of energy or I don’t want it 🙂‍↔️

Naima bites her lip, staring at the screen. The comments, the love, the overwhelming reaction.

Roman watches her from the side, amused. “What’s that look for, baby?”

She shakes her head, grinning. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how I got so damn lucky.”

Roman smiles wide, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at him. “Nah, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers, gentle and soft. “I’m the lucky one.”

THE END...for now.

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all

🏷️: @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @thewarlordsworld

@dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @iguessilikewrestlingnow

@purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @tribalhoochie @wrestlingprincess80

@papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @unfriendly–blvck–hottie

@theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills

@theglamclosetsl @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @crxssjae

@twocentuar @surdelcielo @althegreat33 @alichesmi @eclectic-tee

@joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa @femdisa

@megamindsecretlair @headoftheetable @brwnsugababe @heauxvibez @christinabae @potatosackk

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@wrestlingbaby @amandairene88 @romanreignsbae @li-da-savage @thickbihhwitdagapp

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@shes2real @aldrigmer444 @rose-bliss @jxtina-86 @that-one-anxious-mango

@fearlesschimera @kuromiish @vampygomez @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic @4milly

@disc0fairy @prettybitxhnica @mellybandzz @blveeeeeee @taytropicana @planetch1ld @mayasopinions @tribalchief2112 

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @callmekayd @partypoison00 @originalgeezyy @muzaqueendom @naturally-nikkilynn

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

The Adventures of Orbwin and Chorb: A Masterlist

This is where any information pertaining to Orbwin and Chorb is stored for any use and for all to see. Written by that-trans-autistic-guy, with an assist by @technically-human who made the first depiction of the orb boys. List is to be updated, please message @that-trans-autistic-guy to request an addition to the list. Posts/fics tagged with the tags attached to this post will be easier to find for everyone who loves the orb boys :D

Traits, Attributes and Ideas

Ship name is Chorbwin

The orbs can purr in the same way cats do. Results in a visual vibration and soft sound. They have limited awareness in orb form, so it follows the feelings of safety and comfort.

The gravitate towards each other slightly, not unlike magnets

Often just soft, warm light but can occasionally be in their hero colors: blue for Edwin, red for Charles

The orbs give off warmth, one the dead and living alike can feel

The girls call them “The Orb Boy Detectives”

Charles made Orbwin a tiny ghost costume

Fanfics

Carry These Torches For You - that_trans_autistic_guy

You Said, “I’ll Never Leave You Alone” - Aster_Flower114

A Better Place, A Better Time - TheFanficMustFlow

Why Do I Tire of Counting Sheep? - carpediemma

The Many Forms of Phantoms - thegirlofthorns

Orbing With Edwin and Charles - grammarglamour

Frippery - Baby_Spinach

Professional Networking - RoseGanymede95

This Little Light of Mine, Let It Shine - ingridmatthews

Let Me Watch Over You - waywardsonsanddaughters

They’re in Lorb (Orb Love) - DarkStars

First Time For Everything - Anonymous

Orbwin’s Day Off - Quicksweetdreamer

A Blue Cap and a Red Jacket - williamvapespeare

The Glow That Dazzles My Eyes - Cesare

Other Types of Intimacy - Asidian

The Case of the Wilson Brothers - justafandomfollower

Your Voice Lights Me Up Like Nothing Else Ever Could - slyvir

Safe - Violet_Baudelaire

“You Must Make Him Feel Really Safe.” - slaycious_royal

Lost Marbles - bluetack

Run Your Fingers Through My Soul - Hse11z5

Doing Nothing With You - PurpleParanoia

Hold Me Tight and Don’t Let Go - cordelianoir

Get Orbed, Losers - kittymaine

Sweettalk My Heart - NuriaSchnee

Listening To Your Voice, I’m Orbin Toward You - slyvir

Ooh You Make Me Live - Dead_but_still_sarcastic

So Cute I Could Just Eat You Up - eunoise

Y’know I Worry - ahyperactivehero

The Case of the Missing Blood Blade - shadyphoenix

Fanart

Recharging - @technically-human

Recharging II - @technically-human

The Infamous Puppy Debacle of ‘94 - @technically-human

Niko and Orbwin - @gaypanicattackonlegs

Orbwin in Charles’ Jacket - @fellow-fandom-fruitifier

Portable Boyfriend - @jube-art

Portable Boyfriend Part 2 - @jube-art

The Girls and Chorbwin - @arisprite

Chorbwin But Colored - @terresdebrume

Cherishing Each Other’s True Forms - @a-jasminator

ORBWIN - @random-art-p3rson

Painland Week Orb Boys - @etheriiart

Chorbwin is my new OTP - @fellow-fandom-fruitifier

IRL Orbwin and Chorb (Glass Boys) - @neurodivergent-fangirling

Chorbwin Accessories - @aceofturtles

Confession: Orb Edition - @every-moment-a-different-sound

The Best Orb I Know - @every-moment-a-different-sound

Chorbwin in Elysian Fields - @acheel-and-cat

Spaghetti and Chorb - @aceofturtles

Chorbwin w/ Accessories - @edwinspaynes

Notes from Circles?? - @thesfromhms 

Tiny Orbwin and Chorb - @technically-human

Gay - @sawtism101

DBD Brain Takeover - @disgruntled-rat

Mirror Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Lantern Chorbwin - @aria-hannah

Death Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Eternity Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Happy Chorbwin - @minkbumblebee-blog

Light Orbwin - @beetlebug—1

Earring Orbwin - @margo-mania

Fem!Orbwin - @technically-human

Lantern Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Chorbwin… But Lantern - @disgruntled-rat 

The Annoying Chorb - @thesfromhms

Lighthouse Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Day Four Prompt Chorbwin - @alterego77 

Chorbwin Backpack Cuddles - @dead-but-still-sarcastic

Doll Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold 

Love Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

Glow Paint Chorbwin - @lesbicosmos

Spooky Chorbwin - @marbearmarigold

A Chorbwin Request - @downbaddetective

Orbwin Light - @etheriiart

Collection Feat. Orbwin - @unicorngunter

Orbwin’s Ghost Costume - @aceofturtles 

Orbwin Jack’O Lantern - @aceofturtles

Pastel Chorbwin - @starsandaces24

Chorb Light - @pippin-katz

Books Chorb - @marbearmarigold

Misc. Chorbwin Posts

Simple Orbs - @crosnt

Great Orb Incident of ‘02 - @edwinspaynes

First Sighting of ‘Chorbwin’ - @ace-misplaced

“ChOrBWIn” - @pippin-katz

Hyperactive Chorb - @khrorazir

Chorbwin Comic - @2ndfannypack

The Orb Boy Wizard - @succstosucculent

Cursed Chorbwin Gifs

Chorbwin Cookies - @dextheartist

Chorbwin Boba Meme - @etheriiart

Photo Of Orbwin - @edwinspaynes

Chorb Animation - @thesfromhms

Crossover Chorb Animation - @aria-hannah

The Orb Cameo - @moonikabear

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

23. A therapist? ✎

Scaramouche fears no man.

But he does fear four women.

1. Ei — his mother

2. Yae Miko — his mother’s “friend”

3. Nahida — his aunt

4. You — the highlight of his life

There’s no particular order. It depends on the day. Although tonight, that might be the case.

The bamboo pendant lamp hangs beautifully in the intricate walls if Uyuu Restaurant. An order of Tricolor Dango, Shimi Chazuke, Fukuuchi Udon, and Halvamazd scatter along the floor table. Scara settles across his mother. Yae Miko finds the spot next to her and beside him, Nahida chats away with the restaurant owner who introduces himself and the specialties he’d prepared in advance.

Four dishes for four people.

“What a funny guy! What’s his name again?” Yae Miko asks after the owner left.

“I believe it’s Okazaki Rikuto,” Nahida answers as she scans the roster of food available. Scara notices the eagerness in her eyes. Sometimes, his aunt resembles that of a child – if only she wasn’t so perceptive.

“Care to share your thoughts?” Nahida asks.

There it is – as always.

Scara clears his throat, “No. Let’s eat.”

It will have to wait.

Minutes of uncomfortable silence fills the room. A wave of anxiety begins to envelop Scara’s thoughts. Considering his intrepid personality, he’s sure that even outsiders can tell the absurdity of his actions – from fumbling his chopsticks to checking his phone every passing second. It’s a telltale sight. He curses himself.

“Whatever you wanted to discuss with us, you should do it now,” Ei states calmly. Although It’s not a suggestion, rather a demand.

Scara clears his throat a second time. There’s hesitation in his words. But stalling will get him nowhere, “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Yae Miko looks up grinning, “A therapist?”

The urge to say “fuck you” and hold up a middle finger begins to increase.

“Miko,” his mother warns. Scara can’t tell the expression Ei is wearing – he can never tell with her. He hates that. She is uncertainty, someone he’ll never fully understand.

Nahida interjects, “Is it [name]? I’ve seen articles and comments.”

Scara nods.

Always so perceptive.

Yae Miko Gasps, a hand over her mouth, “Oh the poor girl. I can’t believe she chose you.”

“Miko!” Ei screams.

A simple “fuck you” might not be enough. One more comment from the pink haired lady and they’ll have to call the ambulance – and it’s not for the right reasons.

Yae Miko looks at him with false pity, “You do know, it’s bad to lie–”

Ei cuts her off, “When can we meet her?”

Scara is caught off guard in the best way possible.

A genuine smile is written on his mother’s face – satisfaction.

“You should’ve invited her tonight,” Nahida added, “I’m a big fan of her work.”

He’s dreaming. He has to be.

“I had no faith in you,” Yae Miko says matter-of-factly.

Nevermind. He’s not dreaming.

“Look, you were a socially awkward child – a problem child, even now.”

He’s never been in a cat fight, but today might be it. Should he pull the top of her hair first or the bottom? Which one would be more efficient, he wonders. Venti would know.

“I mean Ei, do you remember the time–”

Or perhaps he should ask Heizou for blackmail materials. Then perhaps his mother would finally cut her off. Taking down the Yae Publishing House… What an exciting thought.

Scara tunes out the voice of his primary hater.

“Next time, you and [name] should visit Tenshukaku. I’d love to meet her,” his mother says in-between giggles.

“You’re not upset?” He asks, just to make sure.

Ei looks offended, “Why would I be?”

“Well–” He halts, not sure of what to say, “Because of the scandals…”

He doesn’t care about those trivial issues, but they might.

Nahida giggles, “For someone who doesn’t seem to care about people’s opinions, you sure are obedient today.“

“I just wanted to make sure.”

Ei shakes his head, “I know I never told you this, but I’ve always wanted the best for you,” She hesitates, “I apologize for making it hard for you to tell me simple things like this. I’m not a perfect mother, but I’m glad you’re sharing a part of your life with me – with us.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, merely nods.

If you were here, you would’ve loved them and they would’ve loved you.

He’s sure of that now. He’s wrong for doubting them.

“But anyway, is there something [name] would like? I can send her newly-made desserts from the shop.”

Yae Miko interjects, “Does she read light novels? I can give her a discount.”

“Or maybe she likes plants? Have you given her Padisarahs? Rainbow Roses? It’s supposed to mean passion and romantic encounters,” Nahida suggests.

Ei lights up, “Oh I know! A copy of your childhood photo album – you were an adorable kid.”

“Mom!”

“Hey, I’m sure she’d want it.”

She’s right.

Notes:

in a world where everyone is happy 😃

kept this in the basement for too long

next chapter is the last chapter then the extras

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go on an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo album. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

masterlist | previous | next

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[dimitriblunt]

thinking about this conversation between kevin and su from chapter 31, while they're in the HoC, and the "amphoreus is a simulation/elysian realm situation/time loop + anaxa is the only one Aware" theory again.

su and kevin are aware that the other is Aware in the HoC, while pardofelis is "seemingly" not. (i say "seemingly" because vill-v confronts her about it later, and pardo tries to dodge the questions she's being asked)

not to mention, the storyline mission title for this part of the ch31 is titled "trailblazer" and the objective is to battle the herrscher of corruption, which, mind you, it literally took form as ely for a good while, just with a different color scheme

adding a line now because. i start to talk a LOT and this gets pretty lengthy

kevin is the damn same in every universe. phainon IS indeed a prisoner of his past (would not be surprised if the primordial one/phanes in genshin is too . cuz come on now)

the context for this line is that the HoC was showing scenes of the catastrophe that happened in nagazora (where kevMEIsu attended high school together). su had noticed it shortly after he noticed kevin staring into the distance at it; kevin told him that it was showing them scenes of his past, thus leading us to this narrator line

considering one of the 3 paths amphoreus has is remembrance, then perhaps we'll see phainon's memories of aedes elysiae through something similar. (which would fuck me up. to be honest)

ELY......... ELYSIAAAAA......... CYRENEEEEE....

okay. obviously, the cyrene we've seen in the game CGs and teasers/trailers thus far is her from when her and phainon were younger. and because she's deeeeaaadddd???????? then you likely understand why we haven't seen her older self

the sword piercing through her chest looks very similar to the flame reaver's, as many have theorized already. and the flame reaver has been theorized to be phainon as well. so many people think that flame reaver phainon straight up killed her

however. considering this is elysia. elysia, who sacrificed herself for the sake of humanity, because she loved humanity so much. have we never thought that cyrene may have sacrificed herself in some way?????

bringing me back to the time loop theory/thought i had...

amphoreus is in a time loop; the prophecy of amphoreus being destroyed and coming to an end has already happened many many times. the flame reaver has managed to destroy almost every timeline it has, and he will continue to do so until not a single timeline remains.

"may this world never have need for a deliverer"

perhaps she says that in hopes the flame reaver will not come to destroy the peace in that timeline. however, it happens again and again. she's sacrificed herself and died so many times, witnessing and will continue to witness all that she loves come to an end.

again, like i said in my time loop thought post, perhaps the only way to rid amphoreus of the impending doom is with us showing up and finally being able to change things within the timelines, since we are an outside factor, not originally part of the timeline

anaxa is a walking, rotting corpse, being kept alive by some divine power or sheer will. what if his body is from a previous timeline, and his consciousness and memories are the same from said timeline.

he was seen holding oronyx's coreflame, plus he currently inhabits the coreflame of reason (though not a demigod yet). reason & time........ being Aware.......... okay man.

[katerinaaqu]

Heracles and Dionysus Drinking contest (Early 2nd AD century, Antioch, Imperial Roman mosaic)

This mosaic from an Atrium House in Antioch depicts a funny small story known in classical art as a drinking contest between Heracles (Hercules) and Dionysus (Bacchus). According to the story, Heracles challenges Dionysus in a drinking contest and of course loses. The result of their contest seems to be an anecdotal story that he joins his Thiasus for a short while.

In this mosaic we can spot Heracles naked and kneeling while chugging down from his cup (the lion mane and club resting before his knees). To the far left we can detect the figure of a double-flute playing menad while we see Dionysus casually resting upon pillows, holding a thyrsus/spear to his hand and showing his own empty cup to Heracles while being surrounded by the satyr Silenus (far right) and his cup-bearer, the little satyriscus to the center. One can also detect the golden-colored crater in the middle.

The parallels between the two figures seem to be incredible:

Both are sons of Zeus and both are arguably the youngest of their classes (Dionysus is the youngest god of the Olympians born by Zeus and Heracles according to some roman sources is the last demi-god from the last mortal lover Zeus takes)

Both are born by a mortal woman (Alcmene and Semele respectably)

Both have been induced in madness by Hera (Dionysus repeatedly while Heracles was turned mad and threw his children with Megara in the fire), and continusly targeted by the wrath of the goddess

Both become divine just in different ways (Dionysus is established as one of the 12 gods of Olympus while Heracles becomes a god post-mortem)

Both seem associated with Elysian mysteries

Both are associated one way or another with theater or role-playing (Dionysus being the god of theater among others while Heracles had at some point dress as a woman while living with Omphale)

One is associated with strength and power (Heracles) while the other is associated with art but also Madness (Dionysus)

Both are associated with the youth (Heracles for his war achievements while Dionysus is also portrayed as a youth many times)

Dionysus according to some myths is married to a god-made woman (Ariadne) while god-made Heracles marries a goddess (Hebe)

Both figures travel to the underworld (Heracles during his 12 labors when he goes to take Cerberus while Dionysus according to orphic traditions as Zagreus descends to the underworld to come back out as Dionysus through Semele)

Consequently to above, both figures suffered a painful death (Dionysus as Zagreus being torn to pieces and/or eaten by Titans, Heracles poisoned by Hydra's poison in Nessus's blood through his marital chiton and consequently burnt)

Both figures have been iconically depicted in association with a wild animal (Heracles wearing a lion skin, Dionysus either riding or wearing a leopard)

Both figures have myths that associate them with non-human creatures (Heracles having good time with the Centaurs, Dionysus being followed by Satyrs)

I find it interesting how we do not have more art or talk about these two iconic mythological figures!

[saszor]

full description both in ALT text and at the end of the post!

my disability pride drawing for this year's artfight! don't mind that it's almost september Please :)

OCs belong to (roughly from left to right): @mothswitheyes, ~meloewe, @spencerwatchestoons, @sililas, @lolodedodo, @pigeonkitt, ~Calicatto, ~Saltycoookie, ~necrichor, bottom right: @levymcgarden55, @hunipyon.

[ID: digital drawing showing a scene featuring eleven characters hanging out in the same room. on the left is a low coffee table with five characters sitting around it: Lea, a Black vampire with ombre hair is speaking with cane in her hand; Yumi, a petite blonde woman listening to her from her wheelchair; Hayden and Naomi - a tall white man with burn scars and amputated arm, and a much smaller blue-haired person with an EKG on their chest; and Hideo, a darkskinned Japanese man in a wheelchair who looks at them unimpressed. Slightly behind them are two people talking, both with a dog with them - Gigi, a Japanese person with albinism and fox ears shown from behind, and Jie, a Chinese man with a BKA and small scars on his face and throat, holding a cup in hand. In the background, Thabisa, a Black chubby woman is waving to 99A, a wheelchair using gray alien who is waving back. In the very front, shown from the chest up, are Cleo and Elysian smiling at each other - the former is a Black burn survivor half-elf wearing a big scarf, and the latter is a white enby with yellow-purple hair and patchy facial hair. The background features multiple flags: the disability pride flag, the disability rights flag, and the Deaf flag. End ID.]

[wonryllis]

★ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN AS KDRAMA LEADS AND THEIR LOVES.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen on the screen with you 𖥔 ݁ fluff, suggestive LIB? fem!reader requested word count `1715 PLS REBLOG!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ❝ they tried to take what was mine, so i will show them what i have. ❞ jang uk, alchemy of souls.

the forlorn hero cursed by fate to bear the weight of being the most powerful person in the world. and for one that withstands death and destiny; you are the light that embraces his shadows of darkness when he embarks on the path to save the world.

"you look pretty," heeseung eyes glance over your dolled up figure as he enters the room. "well no one's going to notice me anyway, they're all interested in your past lover," you scowl in an adorable pout that tingles heeseung's inner desires to eat you up. "that's why sit where everyone can see you, show them who my actual bride is," his fingers reach out to hold the side of your face in a gentle caress, gaze locked with yours, the atmosphere heaving with tension. "then i'm going to wear the family ornament," he hums inching closer,"then i'm going to tell them we get get along very well," he hums again, nose brushing against yours,"then i'm going to brag that you light up the path for me at nigh-" this time heeseung's lips find yours in a tender kiss, sucking softly almost in a nibble as he pulls away in a moment,"show me off however you want, i'm all yours," because he's sure you are his light in the dark.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ❝ even if other people say it is not, if you say it is love, then it is love. ❞ lee jun ho, extraordinary attorney woo young woo.

the secure and dependable soul who is left navigating through a love that confronts the pitifully vile sides of society. and for who wishes to be the one for you; you help his muddled worries come to the ultimate realization, to love and to fight for it till the end.

"jay, can i.. touch you?" jay is dumbfounded at your words, frozen at his spot for a momentary instance," he looks at you trying to avoid to his gaze,"i want to check whether i like you in that way," you clarify and jay curses his tainted mind for going places they absolutely should not be going. "oh, i see," it takes a few seconds for it all to sink in, and as soon as he does he's approaching you in a confident stride. "can you only check by touching me?" one step forward, one step back. "i need to see if my heart races—" caging you with your back against the couch, hands on each side,"so your heart doesn't race if we're not touching?" jay whispers, grinning at your eyes looking everywhere but him. "even when you're with me, doesn't your heart race?" his own heart pounds hard in his chest, just being with you has him weak,"that's disappointing," breathing fast as he leans in. you test him against all that he has ever known.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 ❝ does my dream have to be success? can't it be a person? ❞ nam do san, start up.

the ridiculously gifted and capable protagonist on his journey of growth, struggling between reality and dreams. and for one whom love, self worth and truth is conflicting; you provide an elysian abode of validation and acceptance of who he can be despite everything.

"a rainbow doesn't make your wish come true," jake smiles to himself, fiddling around with the pebbles at his feet,"it's just light reflecting and refracting," looking up he finds you staring at him in a sulk. "so you're not going to pray? because you don't believe in it?" your words are one of sorrow albeit you hardly sound upset and more in spirit of challenge. "there's no objective evidence," though he'll admit he'd take every chance he could to make a wish about you, even if it's superstitious. "let me show you then, evidence," you pull him by his collar into a messy, sloppy kiss, one that takes his breath away,"see, i prayed i'd kiss you and i did," his cheeks warm up at your bluntness,"you're the one who kissed me, the rainbow has nothing to do with it," "just the way liking you has nothing to do with reasons to like you, i like you because you're you, you're my reason" you make it so easy to fall in love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ❝ even if my feelings for you make me insignificant and weak, you are my fate that i cannot defy. ❞ jung gu won, my demon.

the immortal infernal superbeing caught in a web of events that go against his very existence, piercing through the root of his beliefs. and for one whose emotions have been shut for the longest time; you open the doors of his hell, where his throne shines for you.

"is this what you're trying to get?" sunghoon's figure presses into your back as he reaches above you to bring down the book from the shelf,"my demon guide, really?" moving to the side he leans against the tall furniture, waving the heavy book in your face. your eyes fall to the exposed skin of his torso, toned chest and glistening abs, staying there a second too long,"ay ay ay, you pervert!" sunghoon immediately pulls his loose dress shirt together buttoning it up in a hurry as you look away. "why are you here anyway?" for once you have been the first to come to him. he feels something is wrong with him to be so elated over a mere thing like this,"i was just worried," you make him feel human, you make him feel vulnerable, you make him want to rewrite the stars with you. "about you," it is scary yet it feels like a kind of freedom that relieves him of a load he never knew he carried.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 ❝ if you really want to express something you will find a way. ❞ ha yi chan, twinkling watermelon.

the ever merry fellow, overflowing with a shinning soul and a sparkling heart, choosing to see only the bright side of everything. and for whom shortfalls have been a sign of misery; you show him a new world where flaws exist to give meaning to what you have.

"here, i got you a cat," sunoo gestures to the cat snuggling in his arms, getting closer to let you pet it. "i was worried you'd be bored alone," he speaks slow, moving his fingers just the way he practiced as you take the little fluffball from him,"i made sure to pick out a kitty that looked like me," he points and when your eyes crinkling into an adorable smile, sunoo feels all his efforts of learning to communicate with you to be fruitful. "a name based on your face?" he questions when you talk about naming the cat,"do you have a name like that too?" he never thought there'd be a time when he'd sit with you in the woods like this, talking in a language of your own as you taught him how to call out to you in a way only you two would understand. there was so much beauty in silence and he only realized it now,"that's a pretty name, i will call you by that from now," the simplicity of life he forget, you remind him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ❝ i'm a terrible liar and i don't have the ability to fool the one i love. ❞ kim do ha, my lovely liar.

the honest yet constantly condemned guy doing his best to fall back into the rhythm of life, having lost the last hopes of happiness. and for one who has always been doubted and criticised; you bring reason, to survive the dark into victory.

"lie to me," jungwon looks up from his bowl of soup, bewildered at what you ask of him,"what?" he mumbles slowly, trying to make sure he heard you right."just once please? try telling me i'm pretty," the insistent tone of your voice persuades docile jungwon to give in, brown eyes gazing at you in a dazed stare. one that lasts a little longer than a moment necessary,"you're pretty," and it's not a lie, you are so much more than just pretty in his eyes, it could never be a lie,"of course, i would say you're pretty," when jungwon looks at you he sees love in a new light, he sees all these positive emotions in a new light. in a light that gives him hope of escaping the hideous cage his mind has him trapped in. "because you really are pretty," he returns back to eating, trying to avoid the flush of butterflies he feels in just that one acknowledgement. it had been years since he felt them, such a normal emotion of love.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ❝ when you miss me, you can go to a bookstore and see me in a comic book. ❞ kang chul, w two worlds.

the tragic struck, defined by his past character thriving into a position of power and influence to uncover the truths of his comical life. and for one that battles against injustice, fictional between dimensions; you are the key to his long awaited peace.

"this one looks good on you, you should get it—" your hand slaps across riki's cheek in a snap making everyone in the room gasp in horror. to be hit like that out of the blue, riki should have been outraged, instead all he felt was confusion but not so much as to end the chapter. "what, is it?" he asks, his brows raised in question. "why am i getting slapped for buying you clothes?" stepping closer to you,"t-that, i'm sorry—"your lips crash against his for a fleeting moment before you rush off into the fitting rooms leaving everyone in shock. riki's fingers linger over the spot you kissed, feeling his heart skip multiple beats for some reason. you are pretty for sure, but you're also idiotic in way that attracts him out of pure amusement. he knows you don't belong here, and he knows it'll be reckless to try and find your world, but you make him feel there is a way out despite all obstacles and absurdities.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⭒˚．⋆ Ｄｉｄｎ＇ｔ Ｍｅａｎ Ｔｏ Ｓａｙ Ｉ Ｌｏｖｅ Ｙｏｕ ⋆⭒˚．⋆

⋆｡‧˚˚ Yandere!Acolyte Men x Reader ˚˚‧｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡♡ 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝐿𝓎𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓈 ♡ ˚｡⋆

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽☀︎☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

✩彡 Master Sol - Bittersuite | استاد سول

I can't fall in love with you.

He's choking on his guilt again. Scorching memories reciting hymns of fire and black smoke. He can not love, he can not pine, his romances always end in doom. End in bitter blood drenching stars and ghosts scattered across solar systems. Sol can not love you, he must not love you. You're safer out of his reach.

L'amour de ma vie.

He wants to be the one, etching galaxies across your heart and spilling stars into your bones with every kiss. Your smile dips his world in midday pink, all roses and sun blooms. Your voice trails after him, haunting halls and abandoned training rooms. Your name sticks inside his throat, sticky caramel abrading his tongue to be let loose. Love of his life.

Love so bittersweet.

There are other universes, he likes to think, where his mistakes are little and he has the right to hold you in his arms. You call out to him during missions, all epithets and formality, he longs to hear to say 'Sol'. just 'Sol'.

Longs to kiss you in the dark where his memories can't reach him. You're so bittersweet…

"(Y/n)…"

⭒⭒✮ Yord Fandar - Halley’s Comet | یورد فندار

I don't want it.

He chews on the thought of you, sour under his tongue. He watches you parry under the stars, saber humming orthodox hymns. He can spill lies from his lips like coronal rain. But the confession never sticks, he shouldn't want this, want you.

And I don't want to want you.

In his dreams he's more honest, leaving a galaxy of love bites across the vast expansion of your essence. Kissing the dark corners of your eyes and sucking tenderly on the pearls of your spine, open-mouthed when he reaches your nape. Curling fingers in the nebula of your hair. You sing his name so freely it has him seeing stars.

But you're all it takes to break a promise.

He kisses you, against the temple wall, drinking in your devotion like elysian ichor. The stars in your eyes explode, whispering tenets between each breath. He feels the force reverberating between your bones, holy, ethereal. This is wrong, fundamentally, spiritual, he doesn't want to want you…But he has to.

"I, I need you."

༻｡｡☾ Qimir - Bossa Nova | قیمیر

Love when it makes you lose your bearings.

His love is an asteroid field, cataclysmic and labyrinthine, always dodging bullets aimed point blank at tattered hearts. He's always caught wondering who's truly lost. You or him. Swimming through wandering stars and pretending it's just a force-willed romance. But love doesn't lie to keep one compliant. Caging you between quasars and stella novae.

Some information is not for sharing.

"Eyes down, you've not yet earned to see my face"

You obey, little lamb that you are. Eyes tracing the ebony of his boots. He wonders if he should tell you, grasp your chin, and force his mask off. Shatter your world with his eyes. But you're too cute like this, pining after your master and playing little lovers with Qimir. It's torture most sweetly, he traces the crown of your hair with metal instead of lips, whispering sabbath shibboleths into your head. His love is red in every way.

A lot can change in twenty seconds. A lot can happen in the dark.

The cave is pitch dark, hidden from prying moonlight. It's in the dark that Sith revel in the dark that they renew. Qimir knows some things can only be confessed in blood. That's why he pushes the jagged edges of stars between your lips. Apex of your throat in hand forcing you beneath him. You giggle stardust as he marrs your bones, kissing cuts and open wounds. He lets his mask slide off, to the tune of your heartbeat. Savoring its clank and all it entails. Your shock and fear taste delicious on his tongue as does your fruitless struggle. He kisses you again all passion and possession. He likes you better when you taste of horror and shattered realities.

"You belong to me..."

✧࿐ Torbin - Birds of a Feather | تور��ین

We should stick together.

You pull him through the temple, laughing as you run away from another angry master. Torbin follows lovestruck, he sees peace in your eyes, in your smile. Hears it in the candance of your voice. He kisses your knuckles when you beat him at saber practice and passes you heart-shaped sticky notes during lessons. He wants to be here with you forever. Together in an eternal blush.

 I'd never think I wasn't better alone.

He whispers your name between breaths, kissing each syllable. He traces your face in the stars, cursing the remote planets he's been sent to. He misses you, but the phrase is never quite worded right, his master can never know, never understand the rhyme behind his eagerness.

Home, home, home. He repeats the words with frantic reverence. Home is where the lights paint you in their heavenly glow. Where you hold his hand and kiss fireflies across his cheek. Home is you, it's always been you…

I'll love you 'til the day that I die.

You trace the scar across his eye, dejected. Torbin kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in your presence. He made it back to you, that's all that matters. Not the witches or the massacred planet. Not the disappointment of his master or Sol's new apprentice. You're the only thing that matters to him, the only thing that has ever mattered.

"Stay with me forever my love."

Happy final week of the Acolyte!! It's been a great 7 weeks ~💜

[hrrtshape]

　　✶ EMMA's 𝓜ARVEL d𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝓡EALITY. . . moodboard!

— emma harkness is the breath you didn’t know you were holding, the shadowed outline in a photo you swore was empty. she is the girl at the edge of the woods where the trees grow gnarled and whisper secrets to the wind. the daughter of witches and something older, darker. warnings scrawled in ash and bone. she’s the aftermath of a séance gone wrong, the faint sound of a piano playing itself in an abandoned house. emma exists where the veil is thinnest, where reality sags and groans like an old staircase underfoot.

born of agatha’s blood, steeped in the sly cruelty of the one above all’s idle whims, the girl is a paradox. a cosmic punchline written in the language of gods. she carries the weight of infinity not like a burden but like a pocket full of smooth, cool stones, skipping them across the surface of existence with a flick of her wrist and a dare in her eye.

her power isn’t a gift, it’s a haunting. it creeps, it sprawls, it mutters to itself like a mad poet at midnight. her abilities stretch in impossible directions, threading through the fabric of existence like a spider weaving a web out of screams and lullabies. she doesn’t just pull at the strings of reality; she knits them into a patchwork dress, frayed and stained, her own myth stitched in every seam. and when she spins too fast, too wildly, you can see the edges unravel, the threads dangling loose, waiting to trip someone into oblivion. emma is nothing more, and nothing less, than a girl trying to outpace the inevitability of her own myth.

ɞ ⋆. ࿐ the songs that pair to HER : . as time flied by ty's music . frou-frou foxes in the midsummer flies by cocteau twins . freudian by daniel caesar . one of these mornings by tv girl . love is complicated (angels sing) by labrinth . i want you (she's so heavy) by the beatles

　　　　　　　very much a big stamp of IB to elysian-fawn!!!!