#a lot of isolation from his support group

[maxdibert]

Look who's back, I hope this isn't bothering you, but my friend really thinks that suffering violence doesn't justify being a violent person and I really need to talk to someone about Severus.

Not long ago I asked my mother with exactly these words “if a person grew up amid violence and only suffered violence, is it abnormal for them to be violent?”.

And she said: Not always, it depends from person to person. Some will be different from the experiences and environment they lived in, while others will not. But the chances of a child who has suffered violence also being violent is 98%.

And it made me think about how people see Severus as an exception and not a statistic. And, for some reason, they make it a competition of traumas and belittle his suffering because he is not a perfect victim who swallows his spite, forgives those who hurt him and pretends that everything is fine when it is not.

Experiencing violence doesn’t justify being violent, but it can explain it. There’s a substantial difference between justification and understanding. The reason why someone is the way they are doesn’t mean that behavior is acceptable, but it helps to understand their character. This is essential if you’re working with that person professionally, for example.

That said, this has many nuances because experiencing violence is just one of many factors that can lead to antisocial behavior. If violence occurs in isolation and the victim has resources and support, the likelihood of them developing violent behaviors is significantly lower. For example, take an average bullying victim. They may have suffered a lot at school, but that’s just one part of their life. What if they had a group of friends outside school? What if they had a stable relationship with their parents? And if none of that happened, what if they found a safe space with people who respected and valued them when they went to university? The environment is crucial both for healing trauma and for the development (or prevention) of problematic behaviors. The problem for victims of violence, in terms of their cognitive development, isn’t so much the violence itself but the resources and tools they have to heal afterward. And healing requires many factors.

Severus represents the case of a victim of violence who suffered it not just in one environment but in all of them. As a child, he experienced abuse at home, and as a teenager, he was bullied at school. He comes from an environment where he has no tools to cope with that violence because he grew up extremely poor, and his parents were participants in the abuse. The abuse continues at school, where bullies make his life hell, and once again, the adults around him not only fail to intervene but either force him to keep quiet or even reward his abusers (James being made Head Boy, for instance). He grows up in an environment where violence is normalized, and the adults in his life constantly justify or validate it. The only people who accept him are the Death Eaters, who are themselves a highly violent group. Everything around him during the most crucial stages of his cognitive development fosters not just a normalization of violence but a justification of it.

When he leaves the Death Eaters, instead of finding an understanding environment where he can start fresh, discover himself, build friendships, and maybe construct a new life, he is trapped in the same school that was a nightmare for him, with no tools or ecosystem that might allow him to heal or attempt to overcome his trauma. Dumbledore doesn’t help; he treats Severus like a soldier, trapping him in that violent cycle with his role as a double agent and feeding his guilt precisely to make him more effective for his plans. Severus isn’t a colleague; he’s a tool.

In my opinion, if he had been able to escape all of that, focus on his own life, and build something for himself, yet still remained violent, then his behavior would be absolutely inexcusable. He would have had opportunities. He would have had the chance to choose to change but refused to do so. However, a person with Severus’s past, environment, and position had no opportunity to change because he lacked the space or means to do so. No one offered him a hand. He was alone, he had nothing, and when someone finally gave him something, it was only to imprison him in the cage of his demons and use him for their own ends. He couldn’t escape from that.

It doesn’t make sense to blame someone for being resentful when their entire life has revolved around an endless cycle of suffering. People like that never end well.

[everyryuujisuguro]

[conflictofthemind]

Lucas knows about Mike and Will

First off, of course the context is needed that Lucas has known the two of them the longest out of any of the kids. He is Mike’s neighbour and joined their party even before Dustin. He also played wingman for Mike previously in S3, trying to help get Mike and Eleven back together. It’s not a stretch of the imagination that Lucas would end up in a role like that again.

So, the hospital scene at the end of Season 4.

There’s a few things within this scene that are a little suspicious, and then one big thing that basically has no explanation other than Lucas suspecting something is going on with Mike. I brightened the scene here- first let’s just acknowledge they held hands on Lucas’ back. This is the only kind of direct hand touch we get this season.

Lucas can’t see that.. but it’s on his back. Of course he would be able to feel it. It’s also another moment that separates Mike and Will as a pair, versus Eleven on her own. Here’s the full clip below. And then just LOOK at the expression Lucas gives Mike after he sees El lingering behind. Your friend just visited as soon as he possibly could to give you support. Why would you look at them like this after he hugs you? Because he knows there’s something weird going on in the relationship between Mike and El. No other explanation.

Lucas is clearly giving Mike a “what the fuck is going on” kind of expression, eye squinted, eyebrows furrowed. There’s also a blink and you’ll miss it moment where Mike’s breath catches after the contact with Will’s hand, and he makes a split second glance to look at their hands (which I captured in the first image).

Then after Lucas hugs El, he clearly parts and steps back to give room for Mike to join beside his girlfriend. But Mike crosses the room to put himself in between El and Will instead. Another thing Lucas would have found weird. Lucas isn’t dumb.

Then we have the shotlisting post from Ross’ instagram. Shot listing is where they plan out what happens within an episode and what kinds of shots they want. This image is obviously an Easter Egg for fans about who’s interacting with who in the first 2 episodes (ie Stonathan shenanigans of which we already know about). I didn’t see it at first but Lucas is clearly placed in the centre of a triangle between El, Mike, and Will. He’s the centre of the triangle.

This makes sense with what we know about S5 thus far as well. There’s a confirmed plot line that has Dustin trying to isolate himself from the rest of the group (if he hasn’t already been isolated enough from the party in recent seasons). It shows up in the shot list image too of course, with Dustin on the opposite side. For the kids, due to Max being out of commission, the only interactions we are going to get in the first two episodes before the time jump seem to be between El, Will, Mike, and Lucas. We also have confirmation from Millie that El and Lucas will be spending a lot more time together than they had in previous seasons.

Moving onto a bit of cornplating for the last points which just serve as some cherries on top of this theory - we already have imagery of Lucas acting as a bridge between Mike and Will in the party image Ross gave us. This is post time jump most likely because of the new outfits, so it’s interesting that this role could continue throughout the season.

We also have the imagery of Lucas holding a suspiciously coloured blue and yellow shield in Will’s painting of the party. A bit of a stretch, sure. But complied with everything else it is definitely interesting to consider.

Now for the character reasoning, which is always important to consider: why would Lucas end up in this position?

Lucas is going through his girlfriend being in a coma after they had a major distance in their relationship. A coma that Lucas in universe has no clue if she’ll ever wake up from, and realistically (in-universe) hopes are slim that she will recover. And if she does, she may not have all the memories of times spent together still with her. There’s probably so many regrets swirling around his mind of things he could have done or said in the time that they had together. Lucas doesn’t have this luxury - but his friends still do.

Lucas is Mike’s oldest friend outside of Will, and Will/Mike are Lucas’ first friends. They existed as a party even before Dustin.

Out of his pain of ‘losing’ Max and the wisdom he learned from it, I really do think Lucas is going to encourage Mike to seize the day and take control of his life once again. Will and Mike still have the luxury of time and still have chance. If anyone could convince Mike his feelings are reciprocal, it would also be Lucas.

Furthermore, Lucas understands that as a black man in fairly rural 80s Indiana, his relationship with Max is also one that is singled out due to prejudice against interracial couples. Interracial marriage would only have been legalized less than twenty years ago. It’s not quite the same, but again if anyone understood the position Mike would be in (other than say Robin) - it would be Lucas.

[transmutationisms]

i would love to hear more about your criticisms of the BITE model! for me it always feels.. unfalsifiable? it seems to do poorly at distinguishing a cult from any other community, if you squint at the definitions

yeah so first of all i'm not particularly keen on even trying to defend the category of "cult" in general. obviously abuse and control methods can and do happen in groups, but i don't think it's particularly useful to talk about this like there's a strict dichotomy between evil malicious groups and all the others. and i think generally, when people do try to sort groups into strict categories like that, what you actually see is that the differentiating factor is less to do with the degree of control exerted by the group and more to do with how much the person doing the sorting is bothered by the group's ideology or doctrinal commitments lol. like, this is sort of baby's first cult concept critique but yknow, a group setting where you're being extremely openly financially controlled is your job and yet most workplaces, however abusive and surveilled and controlling, are not typically designated a 'cult' unless they're also peddling some kind of heterodox religious or medical claims or something.

anyway in regards to BITE in particular, yeah i think it does a really poor job of distinguishing between a 'normal' level of social pressure to say/do certain things, and the kind of control that ostensibly characterises a cult. for example steven hassan has called both MAGA and online trans communities cults, and a lot of this comes down to his persistent and pretty open belief in the power of 'mind control' and hypnosis as mechanisms of cult control. ofc any group of any political persuasion could engage in abuse and high-control of its members! usually this occurs by financial means, social isolation, etc. but hassan's BITE model isn't really good at identifying these kinds of material factors despite paying lip service to them, because it's more motivated by his desire to root out these kinds of shadowy quasi-occult forces of mental reprogramming that he fears.

i just find the whole model to be pretty silly and used mostly as a way of justifying dislike of lots of different social, religious, and political groups---some of which are genuinely mistreating members, some of which are just saying things their critics disagree with---because it's perceived as a reliable social-scientific designation and therefore name-dropping it helps the speaker feel that they're making some kind of objective scientific observation rather than a judgment dependent, as are all judgments, upon their own perspective and values. i think instead of this kind of haggling over Which Groups Count As An Evild Shadowy Cult it would be infinitely more productive and helpful to vulnerable people to talk about how high-control groups operate, what sorts of methods specific groups are using to control and abuse their members, and what sorts of resources those members are dependent on the groups for and need access to from other sources: financial and material provisions, social support networks, etc.

[solxamber]

Hello!

This request requires a bit of twst book 7 spoilers so if you haven't gotten there you can skip this or hold it back until you do 😅

But anyway- the request is Lilia (platonic) with a reader who acts similarly to how he did when he was a general. I think it's interesting to see characters seeing someone who reminds them of their younger self- so yeah.

Have a good day :)

Lilia x Reader

Book 7 spoilers (very slight)

I've caught up to book 7 so no problems there

Lilia Vanrouge wasn’t used to being caught off guard. As the former General of Briarland, he prided himself on his ability to anticipate others’ moves. Yet here you were, marching ahead with that all-too-familiar sharpness in your eyes, commanding the attention of everyone around you, and reminding him so much of his younger self that it was almost eerie.

You stepped into the room, your presence unmistakable as you directed students and Night Raven College staff alike, issuing orders with the same calm authority Lilia once had on the battlefield. Even the way you held yourself, arms crossed and eyes scanning the surroundings, felt like an echo from the past.

“Keep your guard up. I’ve seen paper bags put up more of a fight than you lot,” you called out to a group of students struggling with their spell practice. Your voice, despite its cutting tone, held the undeniable weight of experience. You weren’t cruel; you were just efficient.

Lilia, lounging casually nearby, raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his crimson eyes. "Aren't you being a bit harsh, my dear?"

You turned your head slightly, just enough to acknowledge him, but didn’t soften your tone. “Harsh? If they can’t handle a little reality check, they’ve got no business being here. I don’t hand out participation trophies, Vanrouge.”

A slow smile spread across Lilia’s face. Oh yes, you were very much like him in his youth.

"I see, I see. Efficiency over pleasantries, hmm?" Lilia stood up, stretching his arms. "You're starting to sound like a certain fae general I used to know."

You gave him a quick glance before returning to overseeing the students. "So I've heard," you replied dryly. "Though, from what I gather, you’ve gone soft these days."

Lilia laughed, a sharp, almost nostalgic sound. "Soft, you say? Oh, my dear, I like to think I've simply grown wiser. It’s easy to bark orders, but true strength lies in understanding the right moment to act and when to step back.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. "Wiser or not, there’s no place for sentimentality in war… or in this school, for that matter."

He stepped closer, his once light-hearted expression fading as he studied you. "You remind me of myself far more than you know. But remember, it wasn’t just strength or strategy that kept me alive for so long—it was knowing when to let others in. When to trust.”

"Trust?" you echoed, your tone sharp. "Trust is for those who can't stand alone. I don't need anyone to have my back. Never have."

For a moment, the two of you locked eyes, tension crackling in the air like the charge before a storm. Lilia saw in you the same stubborn pride, the same relentless drive that had once pushed him to become one of the most feared generals in Briarland. But he also saw the same isolation—the burden of responsibility that came from always being the strongest, the smartest, the one who couldn’t afford to falter.

“I once believed that too,” Lilia said quietly, his voice no longer teasing but serious, laden with the weight of years gone by. “I thought being strong meant standing alone, shouldering every burden by myself. But you’ll learn, eventually, that even the strongest walls crumble without support.”

You didn’t respond immediately, a flicker of something—recognition, maybe—passing through your eyes. But then you scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m not you. I won’t make that mistake.”

Lilia chuckled again, though this time it was softer, more reflective. “We’ll see. But don’t be surprised if you find yourself looking back one day and realizing you were wrong.”

There was silence between you for a few moments as you both observed the students. Lilia couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of pride and concern as he watched you. You were so much like he had been—determined, unyielding, with the strength and the tactical mind to back it up. But he also knew the dangers of walking that path alone, of pushing others away in the name of strength.

“You know,” Lilia added after a moment, his voice lightening again, “there’s more to life than just winning battles.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Lilia grinned, his mischievousness returning in full force. “Well, for starters, you could try having a little fun. Not everything has to be so serious. Even a general needs to let loose sometimes.”

You smirked. “Maybe. But that’s not my style.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lilia said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

As you turned away, focusing again on the students, Lilia watched you with a mixture of amusement and nostalgia. You were every bit the fierce, formidable leader he had once been—and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen when you finally realized that sometimes, even the strongest people needed a little help from those around them.

Until then, he’d keep an eye on you. After all, there was nothing more interesting than watching a reflection of your younger self slowly begin to learn the lessons you once had.

And Lilia had all the time in the world.

Masterlist

[dream-with-a-fever]

the people who claim ginny’s “personality” came out of nowhere never fail to amaze me with their inability to actually comprehend the text

it’s literally shown in PS (fleetingly) on the train platform and talked about as early as CoS that ginny weasley is a certified YAPPER. she’s a talkative, opinionated gal. ron points out that her quiet / shy behaviour is very unusual for her, so if one does have basic comprehension skills, it is pretty clear that the ginny we see in the earlier books (which are from harry’s pov) is not who she really is. ginny says as much herself in HBP, “i never used to be able to talk in front of you remember? hermione thought you’d take more notice if i was a bit more… myself”? like are we comprehending this? it’s not rocket science…

as the books go on, her confidence around harry grows the more she detaches herself from the idea of harry that she grew up with, and the actual harry. this journey is slightly impeded by the fact that harry saves ginny’s life in CoS, which she feels a significant amount of guilt and embarrassment over (which harry himself picks up on this in PoA), not to mention she’s still processing the trauma that accompanied that experience (as seen in the way she reacts to the dementors — she is the only one who has a strong reaction to them, like harry). in the years following, we find out in CC (whether you take that to be canon or not), ginny explains she was very lonely during and after the diary debacle, as she felt very isolated from everyone else. this would also cause her self-confidence to take a severe battering, therefore her true personality is not able to shine, especially not in front of harry potter aka her crush aka the boy who saved her life and almost died doing it.

in GoF, harry (and in turn us, as the readers) start to see glimpses of her playful personality - she’s close with fred and george, she calls her brothers out when they’re being unkind, she goes to the yule ball with neville (turning down the opportunity to go with harry, because she doesn’t want to go back on her word), she gives ron’s owl a silly name and she starts to let go of her childhood crush, and takes a chance on another boy who’s actually shown interest in her.

by the time we see her again in OotP, OF COURSE she has undergone some serious character development. she has a boyfriend now! she has a group of friends now! she’s able to be herself around harry! she has a better support system now, her self confidence has returned, and with it, her sense of self worth. she calls harry out on his shit when he needs it, she also comforts him and gives him the space to share his worries without judgement or admonition, she stands up for what’s right, she kicks ass at quidditch (which she’s been wanting to do for the past four years bc she has been practising since she was six years old!), she joins the fight at the DoM, risking her life and dumps her boyfriend for being a sore loser! because she deserves better than that!

the ginny we see in HBP has gone through So Much. but she has only continued to grow as a character - with so much heart, wit and spunk. of course, harry is paying attention now and of COURSE he’s a flustered mess trying not to fall for his bestfriend’s sister for nearly 800 pages but he can’t help it!!!

a lot of ginny’s development happens behind the scenes, in quiet ways, but if you actually pay attention, it’s very obvious who she truly is. the reader slowly becomes more fascinated by this girl as more and more of her story unravels — as does harry. and that’s the beauty of it.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + four

authors note: hi! thank you so much for everyone who has left such kind words for this story! i'm so appreciative for the support and interest!

this one, i think, depicts a lot of contradicting thoughts and feelings for our two favorite characters. that's intentional.

i also take some creative liberties with medical and wrestling shit. let's just go with it, friends, por favor.

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

cw/tw: language, violence, sexual harassment, hints at past self-harm, allusions to past suicide attempt, references to traumatic pasts

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

words: 10k

Roman has spent years coming home to a dark, empty house. It’s been his preference for just as long, enjoying the isolation following day after day of shit that needs to be handled. Because that’s usually how shit plays out for him. Roman’s always calling the shots, always figuring out how to navigate difficult, sticky situations. 

It's just what he does.

It’s why he’s been able to advance the Bloodline as much as he has. Because Roman is a man playing professional chess among a group of elementary checker players.

And he’d never voice or admit it to anyone, but the weight does sometimes get to him in one way or another. So, he’s learned to appreciate solitude. 

But he’s not met with solitude upon entering his home, which is both surprising and irritating considering it’s pushing 2 o’clock in the morning.

The only sound he should hear is the sound of his heavy footsteps from the front door to the bedroom. Instead, his feet carry him into the source of said sounds that are more pots banging and dishes being washed.

That’s how he immediately knows who it is without needing to check. But, Roman is more curious as to why she’s in the damn kitchen at this time of night instead of sleeping than the noise itself.

And he goes to ask as such when he gets even closer and realizes there’s more to the sound than clanging pots and running water. A soft, melodic, almost soothing voice singing in a language he doesn’t understand but recognizes as Spanish. 

Solana is singing, and she’s singing well, beautiful even. So much so that he finds himself leaning against the wall closest to the kitchen, watching as she moves about, earbuds pressed in her ears making her oblivious to his presence.

There’s a sense of relaxation to her, an almost smile as she sings. She doesn’t seem nervous nor skittish….just at peace.

That is she turns around and realizes he's standing there, watching her.

She snatches her earbuds out and immediately jumps on the train of unnecessary apologies. “I’m sorry! I didn’t—-you said you’d be back late.”

He chuckles, calmly pointing out, “it’s almost 2am.”

Her face is flushed red with unnecessary embarrassment. “I thought—I guess I figured that meant you’d come back in the morning.”

“I sleep in my own bed, if I can help it.” It’s a comfort thing, a nod to his preference for solitude. He’s never even stayed the night with Samantha, mostly because he knows her ass would see that as a damn marriage proposal.

Well, maybe not anymore.

“Why are you still up?”

“I—I couldn’t sleep.” It’s a simple answer he’s certain also includes a very real, dark backstory as to why she can’t sleep. He’s been there.

He gets it.

“I’ll be done soon—"

“You can stay up as long as you want. I don’t care.” And it’s true. The house is big enough for her to be making as much noise as she needs, and he probably wouldn’t hear anything from where his room is. He also recognizes the misery that comes with wanting but not being able to sleep, so if being in the kitchen is her distraction, then he’s good with that.

Of course, she continues with the apologies. “I’m sorry about the music—I just—the house was too quiet. I—I don’t like the quiet.”

“Solana.” He has to interrupt her. Roman’s not in the mood for her apology tour. Granted, he does hone in on the part of not liking the quietness of the house. Of course she would be the opposite of him. “I don’t care. Do what you want. Shit doesn’t impact me.”

Roman can see she’s unsure of how to take his words, most likely wondering if there’s some catch, if it’s followed up with a stipulation. But, there is none. As long as it doesn’t impact him, she can do what she wants.

“You have a nice voice,” he compliments, because again, it’s the truth. He’d never taken her as the singing type, but gradually, Roman is starting to see there may be more to Solana than meets the eye. 

Her unsure expression remains unchanged with the exception of her blush deepening as she mumbles a quiet, “thank you.”

Compliments of any sort seem to bother her, or maybe it’s less they bother her and more she’s unsure of how to respond because she’s not used to them.

He’d lean more on the side of that being the case.

Nevertheless, Roman decides to leave her be. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay,” she says almost sheepishly, adding a quiet, “goodnight.”

Roman takes her in, the quietness and passiveness no longer as irritating as he once thought and believed it to be. It might still irk him, but the level of irritation isn’t as high as it used to be.

Whatever that means.

“Goodnight, Solana….”

————

From day one of moving into Roman's mansion, Solana has noticed the watch dogs that occasionally patrol the premises along with the armed guards. And while she’s always been tempted to ask to pet one, she’s also always decided against it. These dogs, like their handlers, are trained killers, not emotional support animals.

They’re not there for her to treat like objects.

But it’s when she walks outside, ready to head off to work, that she notices one guard with a dog Solana hasn’t seen before, a puppy, that she finds it in her to approach. With a couple minutes to spare before she has to leave for work, interacting with a dog seems like a nice way to start off the day.

Hand on her purse strap, she shoves back her anxiety about approaching this strange man, asking in a soft voice, “i–is he new?”

The guard sizes her up and down, answering with a gruff, “yeah.” 

Solana looks down at the dog who’s also staring up at her with just as much curiosity. Smiling gently, she carefully crouches down and waits for him to move closer. There's a generous leeway of his leash that would allow him to do so. 

Sure enough, the dog walks over to her, ears down. Giggling, she cautiously moves to pet him. “You’re so sweet….” And he is. Solana wonders if he’ll retain that sweetness once he undergoes his training. Unlikely. “Good boy…”

“He’s not a fucking pet.” The guard harshly scolds, giving a tug on the leash that makes the dog start to growl. Solana frowns, recognizing he’s annoyed with her interruption.

“I’m sor—”

But before she can finish her sentence, there’s a flash before her that seems almost too quick for her vision to process. But, when she does, she realizes Roman is now present, directly in front of the guard, hand wrapped around his throat. 

“Speak to her like that again, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out your mouth.” His voice is as menacing and terrifying as the fire in his eyes. Roman shoves the man forward and demands. “Apologize. Now.”

The man is coughing, struggling to regulate his breathing but still manages to cough up a muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Solana feels and probably looks stumped at hearing such a thing. She can’t recall the last time someone has ever uttered those words to her. Understandably, she doesn’t know how to respond or react. 

“Leave,” Roman demands. And Solana isn’t sure she’s seen a man haul off as quickly as he does, guiding the dog along with him. 

Roman takes in her appearance as she stands up, nervously brushing any invisible lint off her pants. “You good?”

She nods, still not quite knowing how to take this. How to take Roman seemingly defending her. Or maybe he’s just defending what belongs to him. It has to be the latter of the two, because why would he care about defending her?

Red-faced, she tries to explain her actions. “It—it was my fault. I just—I saw the dog, and I just—I wanted to pet it.”

“Why are you apologizing for someone being rude to you? Does that shit make sense to you?” When he says it like that, no, it doesn’t. But it’s clearly meant to be rhetorical, as he then asks, “you like dogs?”

Nodding, she clarifies. “Small dogs, mostly. Big ones, umm, they kinda scare me.” As do most things. This, she’s sure, he’s noticed by now. “Uhh—what time do you want dinner ready?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be back late tonight.”

“Oh.” Solana is unsure why there’s a strange sense of disappointment in her belly at this. Late….

In her experience with her dad and brother, that usually means they won’t be back until the next day, most likely in the morning. 

This should make her feel a bit relieved, not having to be on edge, feeling worried about upsetting him. 

Even if the only thing regarding her that she’s seen upset him is when he perceives she’s being disrespected.

She’s not quite sure what to make of that either.

“Ayo, Lil’ Soso.” A new voice enters the conversation, one she’s gradually growing comfortable and used to. Jey walks out with a rubbermaid container in his hand, chewing obnoxiously as he approaches Solana and Roman. “What are these things? They’re pretty good.”

There’s a couple of things to process in that one interaction, starting with the nickname Jey has used to refer to her in the times she’s run into him in the house. The twins, along with Paul, seem to be at the mansion often. The interactions though, have allowed her to feel less tense around him. Around Jimmy too.

She hasn’t had enough interaction with Paul to feel that way about him, and she’s certain that won’t change. He seems only concerned with Roman and no one else, which is valid and fair considering his role as Roman’s chief advisor.

Going back to his question, she answers, “conchas.”

“Con what?”

His expression and delivery make her smile. “Conchas. It’s a Mexican pan dulce. Sweet bread.”

“I don’t know half of what you said, but this shit good as hell. You got any more?”

“Don’t you have fucking food at your house?” Solana would never show or admit to it, but it’s sometimes funny to her how Roman seems almost always annoyed with his eccentric cousins. There’s no doubt in her mind though that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for them, that he’s probably done so. And vice versa.

But they also seem to get on his nerves just as much. 

“Man, Nicki on that shit again, talking about she ain’t cooking until I start treating her right. Me and the kids been eating out.”

Kids? That surprises her. She didn’t know Jey was a father. 

“Solana! When you train with Naomi, can you exchange some recipes with her or something?” Jimmy also joins in the conversation, walking over while rubbing his stomach. “Cause I don’t know what that meal was in the blue container, but shit slapped.”

It takes a minute for her to remember which one that was. She’s always been a bit meticulous about separating her meals accordingly. “Carnitas Huevos Rancheros.”

Jimmy hesitates. “Yeah sure, that.”

“Am I running a fucking food pantry?” It’s hard to tell if Roman is genuinely annoyed. Something tells her it’s that type of irritation he naturally gets with the twins but won’t actually do anything about. “It’s not her job to feed you idiots.”

“I don’t mind,” she offers, adding. “I–I like to cook.” And it’s the truth. It reminds Solana of her mom, of all the times she’d spend in the kitchen learning from and spending time with the one and only person on this planet who ever loved her. 

“See, Uce, she likes to cook,” Jey points out, wiping the crumbs off his fingers on his pants and tucking the now empty container under his arm. “I’ll just take this off your hands.”

Solana’s watch vibrating, reminding her that her shift starts in half an hour, is the perfect reminder that while this conversation is comical, it’s also interfering with her schedule. She’s also certain Solo is waiting patiently, or impatiently, by the SUV for her to jump in so they can get a move on. “I—I’ve gotta get to work, but I can have the food ready by tomorrow. I’ll just come home and cook after training.”

“If you feel like it,” Roman adds, and she knows better than to push back and tell him cooking is one of the few escapes she has. It’s become even more of an escape without the anxiety and pressure of her dad and brother demanding the food always be ready in sometimes unrealistic time frames and lashing out when that doesn’t happen.

To Roman’s credit, if he’s ever been annoyed with waiting a few extra minutes for meals, he’s done a perfect job not showing as such. 

She simply nods, acknowledging his stipulation, offering a quiet ‘bye’ as she jogs off to the SUV with Solo ready to escort her to work.

It’s when she’s gone that Jimmy walks up beside Roman. “Man, she can cook, she don’t got a smartass mouth, and she got a body? Shit, Uce, ain’t you glad I told you to go with her?” Roman doesn’t offer a reply, but he definitely gives Jimmy that look that lets his cousin know to get away from him. Roman’s always been big on personal space.

“Does she cook every night?” Jey comes up, asking with an almost level of excitement. “Shit, me and the kids finna start coming over here.”

“Shut up.” The hell they will. Roman is still adjusting to living with someone. The last thing he needs is his cousin and his spawns running around his place, making noise, breaking and touching shit. Not going to happen. “Is Paul already at the office?”

“Yeah. He’s got the updated figures for you to go over. And the RKO proposal was sent over as well for you to review.”

Nodding, Roman starts to create a mental agenda for tasks he needs to complete for the day. And it goes without saying that he’s forever impressed how his cousins are easily able to slide back and forth between professional bag and bumbling morons. 

It’s one of the reasons he keeps them around and as high up in command as they are.

“Good,” Roman acknowledges, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “Let’s go.”

————

“Hey!”

Naomi’s smile is just as bright and genuine as the first time Solana met her, and that’s something she doesn’t know how to take. A part of her figured Naomi was just being nice to her because Roman was around, because she was given an order, and no one defies the Tribal Chief’s orders.

And maybe she could even chalk this up to being an order as well, Roman tasking her with training Solana on how to fight, hence the continued kindness.

Regardless of the motivating factor, this woman is clearly a capable and trained fighter. A killer. 

Solana would do well to stay on her good side.

“It’s good to see you. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much, but obviously, I’m Naomi. Jimmy’s wife.” For some reason, Solana can see it. Can see these two together, even if she’s only been around both less than a handful of times. “I train a lot of the new recruits, mostly women, some men.”

“Men?”

Naomi chuckles. “That’s typically their reaction too. Right before I remind them who I am and what I can do.”

Solana isn’t sure she wants to know the answer to either of those. 

“Just out of curiosity, do you have any kind of combat training? Fighting knowledge in general?” It’s a valid question that only has one embarrassing answer. Solana guesses that Naomi picks up on this embarrassment, adding gently, “it’s okay if you don’t. It just gives me a baseline on where we should start.”

“No—I—I’ve never done anything like this before.” And she’s still not sure if she wants to, not sure what Roman thinks she will get from this. Him, along with everyone else around her, learned how to shoot a gun at the same time they learned how to walk. She doesn’t think she’s ever even held a gun. There’s no way humanly possible she could ever be even a fraction as good at this. 

And Roman has to know this.

So, why is he making me do it?

Again, either Naomi is insanely perceptive or Solana is much worse at hiding her emotions than she initially believed. 

She’d bet on the latter of the two.

“He doesn’t want you to be like us. He just—”

“He wants you to stop being so damn weak,” a new voice interjects. Solana recognizes the tall, intimidating woman from before when Roman had taken her to the Warehouse. She hadn’t had any direct interaction, but just the mere fact alone that she’d simply looked at Solana with disgust told her all she needed to know. “Wants you to grow a backbone.”

“Nia.” Naomi’s smile is dropped, traded for an intense stare. “Lay off her, okay? You heard what Roman said.”

“Oh yeah, we have to be nice to her.” Nia’s smile is mocking, her unimpressed gaze taking in Solana from head to toe. But Solana focuses on what Nia just said versus her judgmental countenance. Did Roman really tell them to be nice to her? Why? Why would he do that?

Nia walks over, crossing her arms over her body. “Well, here’s some kind advice, I can tell from one look at you that life hasn’t been very nice to you. But that doesn’t make you special.”

Naomi steps in. “Nia!”

“Bad shit happens to people all the time. At some point, you have to stop allowing yourself to be a victim.” If not for the fact that Solana knows Nia can’t stand her, she’d almost think Nia is offering what she believes to be genuine advice vs judging her. “You’re here. You survived it. Make that survival worth something.”

Naomi pushes Nia away from Solana, saying something to her that appears to be in defense of Solana, which she’d appreciate if not for the fact that she’s now in her head.

Nothing Nia said is inherently wrong. The world is undoubtedly both good and bad, perfect yet imperfect, wholly and incompletely balanced. These are all facts she’s well aware of, but what Nia doesn’t know or understand yet is that a person still being here doesn’t mean they survived. 

Solana is already broken.

There is no survival.

There’s just existence.

“Don’t listen to Nia,” Naomi advises. Looking around, Solana sees that at some point in her dissociation, Nia departed. Naomi continues with that same warm smile. “She can be a bitch sometimes, but she does mean well…..occasionally.” Hands on her hip, Naomi brings the attention back to the whole reason Solana is even at the Warehouse. “How about we just start with flexibility and mobility? Most of us are smaller than the men, and you definitely are, girl.”

Small……

That’s a word Solana has never thought to use to describe herself. 

“Being smaller means we can move around faster, can navigate around an attacker in a bit of a quicker way. But, you also have to be able to move in a way that’s lithe. Don’t worry. I gotchu, girl.”

They are reassuring words, words that Solana is grateful for, especially as they begin and she feels completely out of her element. Because she is. Solana isn’t the least bit lithe, and she’s certain her hand eye coordination is straight up shit.

But regardless of all that, Naomi remains kind, patient, and even makes conversation with her.

It doesn’t feel like she’s being made to do this, but more like something she gets to do. And Solana is grateful for that interaction, for the space to not feel like she’s burdening someone. That feels nice. So, so nice.

But equilibrium is a hard thing to achieve and even harder to maintain, so while one safe space is being created, another unsafe space is gradually forming in the midst of her oblivion.

Austin Theory and Grayson Waller, two upcoming, arrogant, fighters and wannabe heads have used the Warehouse for their training space for the past few months after finally proving and gaining access to the elite training grounds. 

And while the initiation and acceptance process was brutal and would ward most off from fucking up their membership status, Austin and Grayson have always been hardheaded, too blinded by their own hubris to recognize when they’re about to shoot themselves in the foot.

And shooting themselves is the least of their worries when Grayson is casually surveying the gym to see who’s present, his eyes landing on a woman in particular who catches his interest almost instantaneously. 

“Well, who do we have here?” Austin is confused initially, Grayson motioning across the way to where Solana completes her cooldown with Naomi. 

Immediately, Austin scoffs. “Since when does this place offer a weight watchers class?”

Chuckling, Grayson still pushes back. “Hers is in the right places though, mate,” Grayson again advises Austin to watch Solana as she happens to be leaning back, palms flat on the ground making her top hug against her chest.

Austin makes a face. “Decent.”

“Who is she?” Grayson asks again as Austin notices a semi-familiar face walking nearby.

“Melo.”

Carmelo shifts his Beats headphones so they’re no longer covering his ears. “Whassup?”

Austin subtly gestures to Solana, asking, “who is that?”

Carmelo follows the line of vision and almost immediately snatches his eyes back to the duo. “Yo. You fuckin’ crazy?” 

“What?”

Carmelo repeats himself, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Do you know who that is?”

“Pretty sure that’s what we just fucking asked you, dumbass,” Austin slaps him upside the head. “Now who is she?”

“Solana Miller. Well, Solana Reigns now, I guess.” Carmelo lowers his voice, as if speaking too loudly will attract too much attention. And he’s not entirely wrong. “Roman’s wife.”

Grayson makes a face, looking between Carmelo and Austin for elaboration. “Reigns got married? Bullshit. That bloke is the last man to ever walk down the aisle.”

“You two would do well getting your head from up your asses every once in a while. It’s a recent thing, but still a thing. So unless you want your insides literally ripped from out of you, it’d be best to leave her the fuck alone.”

Austin, the most smug of the two, is the first to protest. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those. Everyone makes Roman out to be this big bad who can’t be touched. He defends, what, once every six months?” Austin scoffs. The fear that the “Head of the Table” seems to have over everyone has never made sense to him. Sure, he’s heard things, even seen some things, but that’s always been because Roman called the shot. He’s not the one actually taking or making them. “Everyone knows he has his heron boys do his dirty work for him.”

“Plus, isn’t the guy pushing 40? What the fuck is he going to do?” Grayson laughs.

“Break his fucking hip trying to chase us.”

Carmelo shakes his head as the two dipshits laugh at their unfunny humor. “I’m telling ya’ll. Messing with her is a death wish. Plus, I heard she’s not even like that. That’s she’s like….shy and shit.”

If intended to ward the two off, it does the complete opposite. Theory smirks. “Those are always the freakiest.”

Carmelo backs away, lifting his hand in a surrender motion. “Can’t say I ain’t warn you. Dig your own graves.” With zero interest in having any part of what these two are clearly planning, Carmelo puts his headphones back over his ears and jogs off to start his training. 

And it’s a wise decision as Austin and Grayson, forever the patient predators stalking their prey wait for Naomi to walk off, time it well so that there’s an appropriate enough time for Solana to walk off to the showers, get clean, and walk out at the same time they happen to be lurking in the halls that lead to the locker rooms. 

That’s exactly how it plays out too, Solana looking down in her bag to grab her phone and text Solo that she’s done and ready to leave when a voice nearly knocks the wind out of her.

“Hi there.”

Solana gasps as loud as the sound of her back colliding with the brick wall behind her from how startled she is.

Instantly, she’s met with a set of cold blue eyes and wicked smile. “Solana, right?”

Breathing feels like it’s an optional thing, her hands still gripping the brick wall behind her. She can only nod her answer.

“Austin.” He then nods to the other man that Solana realizes is leaning back against the wall opposite her. The anxiety intensifies. “This is my buddy, Grayson. You must be new around here?”

Solana doesn’t want to speak, doesn't want to be near these two who have her practically cornered. But, she also doesn’t want to piss them off either. “Y—yeah.”

Austin’s eyes twinkle with nothing that seems good. “You really are shy, huh?”

“They make the best.” Grayson comments from his propped up position. Solana doesn’t allow herself to think too much about what he’s implying. She just wants to get the hell away from them. One look, and she knows they’re up to no good.

It makes her sick to her stomach.

The idea of walking past these two brings a visceral, physical response that has her mouth watering. She feels like she’s going to throw up, but she also knows she needs to get the hell away from them. “I—I have to go.” From where the next thing to come out her mouth stems from, she doesn’t know, but it’s blurted with all the nerves in her body. “R-Roman is waiting for me.”

He’s not. She actually has no idea where he is, but there’s a part of her that wonders if reminding them of who she is, who her husband is will make them back off.

“Of course,” the one with an accent speaks, motioning with his arm for her to leave. “Don’t want to keep the Chief waiting.”

The mockery in his tone unease her even more. Does he not realize just who Roman is? What he’s capable of. 

Regardless, the second Austin backs away a bit, she’s darting through the hall, trying to put as much distance between herself and the two men, but she’s not far enough to miss the ominous departing statement from Austin.

“See you around, Solana.”

Something tells her this won’t be the last time she runs into them, and it leaves a deep, disturbing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

This isn’t good. 

It’s not good at all. 

————

Dear Mom,

I’m still alive. 

That’s a good thing, I guess. Life with Roman has been….a strange experience. The most important thing is that he hasn’t hit me yet, but I’ve been trying really hard not to upset him or get on his bad side. I do my best to make sure all of his meals are ready and on time, which I guess helps. 

But to be honest……he kinda confuses me. 

He hasn’t been unkind, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced him really yelling at me. Not like I’ve seen him yell and scream at others. So, that’s also good. It’s a bit of walking on eggshells, just waiting for him to snap and hit me, but not as much as I was thinking.

I don’t know….it hasn’t been as bad here as I thought it would be. For the most part, he just leaves me alone. We don’t even eat dinner together, which is fine, cause I can’t see why he’d want to spend time with me anyway. 

But, he confuses me because it feels like sometimes he’s defending me or something, which doesn’t make sense because why would he do that? That would mean he has to care to some extent, right? I keep trying to remind myself that it’s probably not me he’s defending but his pride and standing, because I think being mean or disrespecting me is like disrespecting him? I’m not sure, but it’s definitely a new experience.

I haven't spoken to or heard from Wes and dad. Roman made me get a new phone with a new number that I’m not sure either of them have. I don’t know if I want to think too much about how bad it’s going to be when I finally do see them again…..

Wes made it clear I was supposed to be keeping in contact with them, but that hasn’t happened. Truth be told, I try not to think about that. Think about the fact that I’m somehow supposed be figuring out a way to…..to kill Roman. I could never do that. I could never kill anyone. You know that, mama. 

Even more….I feel like Roman is growing on me, like maybe he’s not as bad as I thought, like maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.

I think….I think that I could learn to like living here.

—------

“WarGames?”

To Solana, it’s a simple question, because it’s definitely not an everyday term. But that’s clearly not the case given the startled expressions on both Bayley and Naomi’s face.

It’s becoming something she is slowly starting to enjoy. Not necessarily the training part, but the socialization. It’s something Solana has been deeply deprived of over the years, so to have someone to talk to, someone who wants to talk to her means a lot. 

Even if it’s technically a job she was assigned by Roman, Naomi has never made her feel like their interactions are forced. 

Moreover, it was just in last week’s training session, Solana was thoroughly and pleasantly surprised to find out Bayley is also a member of the Warehouse and friends with Naomi, that reunion almost giving Solana a sense of giddiness. 

She’s wanted to reach out since the wedding but never followed through based upon her fear that she’d be bothering Bayley. 

Clearly, that’s not the case. 

Solana is certain she’ll never forget Bayley’s kindness on a day where she really needed to believe in something, believe that there is always at least one reason to keep breathing, to be alive.

But, it’s when Solana asks about this topic Naomi and Bayley were discussing that attracts confounded expressions. 

“You’re kidding right?” Bayley is the first to speak, glancing between herself and Naomi. “He didn’t tell you?”

Still confused, Solana presses, “tell me what?”

“I’m not surprised Roman didn’t, but someone definitely should have.” Naomi shakes her head, shifting into an explanation.. “War Games. It’s an annual match. Super big deal. It’s a show of strength and dominance for the Bloodline. Kinda hard to explain. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

It sounds….intense. “I—I don’t think I’m invited.”

“Your hubby has clearly been a bachelor for way too long for him to realize that he has to tell you these things.” Bayley rolls her eyes but protests Solana’s belief that she would somehow not be invited to one of the Bloodline’s most important yearly events. “You’re definitely invited. As Roman’s wife, you have to be there. It would be seen as a sign of great disrespect to him if you didn’t.””

Disrespecting Roman…..never a good idea.

“When is it?”

Naomi seems to hesitate before answering. “Tomorrow night” And before Solana can panic at such short notice, Naomis is reassuring her that it will all work out. “Don’t worry. Bay and I will help you get ready.”

“Hell yeah.” Bayley already goes into strategizing mode. “I’ll handle your hair and makeup, and Naomi can find you a kickass dress.”

“Red, of course. That’s the only non-negotiable. Bloodline thing, ya know.” Solana figured as such. She also briefly wonders if that’s why Roman has been coming back home late the past few weeks, because he’s been training? “But, I will say we usually dress….well, like we’re going clubbing for these kinds of events, so it’s gonna be short, tight, and a tad bit revealing.”

That is something that gives Solana pause. None of those things scream appealing to her at all. She doesn’t have the body to dress like that. Not with the rolls, stretch marks, and scars that mar hers. 

“I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finds it in herself to voice her opinion. A rarity. “I don’t—I don’t think I’d look good in something like that.”

Both Bayley and Naomi cast her confused expressions, Naomi being the first to speak. 

“Why?” Naomi presses, gesturing up and down. “Girl, you have a nice ass shape. You would fill out a bodycon dress nicely.”

Solana has a hard time digesting what Naomi is saying. She would look great in a dress like that. Naomi is both fit and curvy, the perfect amount of curves in the right places without unnecessary fat. Same for Bayley.

For Solana, the less skin she’s showing the better, though she wonders if the kind of attire they’re describing is some type of dress code, meaning there is no room to protest. 

The last thing she wants is for it to get back to Roman that she’s being “difficult.”

Defeated, she murmurs an ‘okay’ as the two of them engage in more conversation about this WarGames as well as fashion options. To be fair, they try to include her in, but Solana is too into her head about what this alleged night is as well as what it could include.

—---

Naomi wasn’t lying when she said that Solana would have to see WarGames for herself to understand it. That’s the absolute truth. 

It’s a spectacle, to say the least. 

For one, it’s a ton of people packed around the ring, the massive room where fights take place. The noise is boisterous, almost deafening, people drunk, swearing, placing bets, most of which are on the Bloodline.

And thankfully, Solana and Co. are seated in the upper area, a VIP box of sorts, away from the unruly crowd. She’s thankful for this for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being the fact that she feels extremely uncomfortable in her dress. And just in general, but mostly with how much scarred skin is showing.

The dress is exactly as Naomi said it would be: short, red, and a bit revealing. Thankfully Naomi picked out a dress with a halter neckline that prevents any cleavage from showing, but there’s a split high up on the thigh that she finds herself trying to constantly adjust.

“You look great, Solana.” Bayley wears that same friendly, encouraging smile from Solana’s wedding day. “And I get that you’re self-conscious about your body, but I can guarantee these men would line up by the dozen for a chance to go home with you if not for your psycho-killer husband.”

Bayley playfully nudges her shoulder, and while Solana can emit a chuckle, she can’t bring herself to laugh. That line of men would be just as disappointed as she’s sure her psycho-killer husband was on their wedding night.

But, this isn’t the time and place for that.

“You look nice,” Solana compliments, partially a deflection technique but mostly the truth. Bayley, Naomi, and Nicki, who she met earlier that night and learned was Jey’s wife, all look exceptional in their numbers. Bayley is the only one not wearing red, for obvious reasons, but the jade green compliments her complexion well.

“We all look nice,” she says loud enough for the other two to hear.

Nicki opens her mouth to respond when the lights in the arena start to shift.  “Ugh. This bitch again.” Nicki’s scowl and expression of irritation draws Solana’s attention to the woman in the ring, who now has the spotlight on her, a woman she immediately recognizes as being there that night Roman woke her up from a nightmare.

The woman is tall, curvy in the right places, beautiful, bouncy curls cascading down her back. If she has a lot of makeup on, Solana can’t tell because it’s painfully obvious she’s been blessed with natural beauty. Everything about her is just so gorgeous.

At the time, she didn’t think anything of it, too caught in the haze of trauma. But now, curious and believing she can receive an answer, Solana asks, “who is she?”

“The most annoying person ever,” Nicki answers, taking a swig of her drink. In only knowing Nicki for less than an hour, Solana both does and doesn’t understand the compatibility between herself and Jey. They seem very much alike yet dissimilar. It makes sense why they fight as much as they do.

“That’s Samantha.” There’s no way to misinterpret the disgust in Nicki’s voice even as she pronounces Samantha’s name with undeniable distaste. “She does the announcements for events, but her daytime job is being a professional hooker.”

“Nicki!” Naomi shakes her head. “I think she’s a paralegal for a lawyer or something, but she’s mostly known as a pain in everyone’s ass. Always has been. Ever since we were in high school. She thinks because she’s light skinned with ‘good hair’ that she’s better than everybody.”

“Don’t forget about Roman,” Nicki chimes with her nose upturned. “She really thinks she’s hot shit though because she’s number one on his ‘I want my dick sucked’ list.”

This causes Solana to pause for a second. “What?”

She’s not stupid. Why else would this Samantha have been over at the house that late at night? And with Roman? Solana figured early on that if he isn’t getting any from her, then he has to be getting it from somewhere. Truthfully, even if their marriage did involve sex, she’s not sure he still wouldn’t find his way in between the legs of another woman.

But, there’s something about having it confirmed, hearing for herself that he gets around, that he clearly has a high sex drive that adds a whole new layer of insecurity.

She’s known from day one she could never be anyone he wanted or needed, and he expressed as such that day at the library, but this conversation makes it feel more…..real.

And she’s unsure why or just what makes this bring on a sense of sadness.

“Come on, I get you’re quiet and innocent and shit, but everyone knows that man is a hoe. If you’re black or black–ish with a vagina, fat ass, and big titties, he’ll fuck you. Cause none of them fools fuck with white girls.” She glances at Bayley, almost sympathetically. “No offense.”

“I’m Mexican.”

This serves as a brief, nice distraction for Solana. She suspected that Bayley wasn’t entirely white, but hearing that she’s Hispanic, Mexican, makes Solana feel a small slice of excitement. She makes a mental note to ask her if she speaks Spanish. 

Solana hasn’t been able to communicate in the language her mother made sure to teach her in secret given Xavier’s protest since her murder. So, the idea of being able to communicate with another person in that language makes her feel a bit excited. Maybe more than a bit.

Nicki is dismissive, though there’s a hint of humor there. Like she knows and is just messing with the other woman. “Sure you are, Bay.”

Bayley rolls her eyes and assures Solana. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Ya’ll, don’t lie to this girl.” Nicki seems dead set on stressing this point, and Solana can’t figure out if it comes from a good place, a drunk place, or somewhere in between the two of them. “If it wasn’t common knowledge he don’t fuck none of these bitches raw and makes most get on birth control, I’d tell you to not let that fool touch you with a ten foot pole.”

Bayley is watching Solana, sees the discomfort growing at this conversation and moves to change the conversation. “Why don’t we talk about you and Jey and why I literally saw him flirting with Sasha the other day?”

At that, Nicki drops her drink, cussing loudly, “man, fuck him! I don’t give a fuck about him or that bony heifer! I’ll beat the shit out both of them.”

“Nicki. Shut the fuck up. You may beat her ass, but you gon be right back to drunk spilling about how good Jey’s dick is when it’s all said and done.” Naomi dismisses, and something tells Solana she’s not wrong. Nicki and Jey seem to have a bit of a…..tumultuous relationship.

“I mean it this time!”

“Uh huh, sure sis.”

“And if you don’t give a fuck about him, why are you here?” Naomi challenges. 

All eyes on her, even Solana’s slightly curious gaze, Nicki falls back in her chair and mumbles, “cause that’s my man.”

Naomi and Bayley are a chorus of laughter and whooping and hollering, roasting Nicki for her contradictory statements.

Flashing blue lights illuminate the arena as everyone immediately moves to their feet followed by opening music that almost instantly brings chills up Solana’s arms. The lights then transition to a combination of red and blue, the sound of cheering intensifying as she redirects her focus back to where the first group entered. 

Solana’s eyes instantly, maybe even naturally, land on Roman. He stands first among the men, shirtless, ula fala around his neck, championship belt around his waist, a look of fierce determination and stoicism painted across his handsome face. 

And that body…..rippling muscles glistening under the heat of the lights.

It’s a strange and miserable experience. Feeling all of the sensations and attractions a human typically has to another human being but having an almost inability to act on them. It’s not that Solana isn’t attracted to Roman. She finds him to be sinfully attractive. The issue is that whenever she thinks about what physical acts take place when two people find each other attractive is when her head is swarmed with vivid memories and flashbacks of being violated in the worst way possible.

And the attraction is stumped by fear and trauma. Fear of being touched. Fear of being with anyone in that way. 

It’s like Roman said. He can get that from anyone, so why would he bother with her?

When he has someone like Samantha, prettier, smaller, easier, at his disposal?

It brings a wave of sadness over her that she’s grateful isn’t noticed by the other ladies who are focused on the start of the match.

And to her credit, Solana tries to pay attention, grateful and thankful for Naomi and Bayley occasionally pointing out certain aspects of how it works, why the two groups are separated, individual members from each side periodically being sent into the line of fire.

“Roman always goes last,” Naomi explains at one point.

“Save the best for last type shit,” Bayley adds, finishing off her beer and asking for another. 

“More like once he gets his ass in there, it’s a wrap. Everyone left getting smashed.” Solana believes this wholeheartedly. She’s just not sure if she wants to see that, see that side of him up close. 

It exists, obviously, but it’s hard to compare the killer she knows he is to the man he’s been to in the short duration of their marriage.

Almost….almost kind. 

The fighting, brutal and bloody, all occurs in the ring, but Solana constantly finds her gaze falling back to Roman. He remains seated, patiently or maybe impatiently waiting for his turn, never once ripping his gaze from the match. She sees Paul outside the cage, occasionally speaking to Roman, advising as he always does. 

Solana can tell he’s completely immersed, focusing solely on the match before him. 

And it’s when there’s some type of in-ring argument between the twins and the other member-in-training of sorts, Sami, she thinks Naomi called him, that she turns to the ladies. “What are they doing?”

“Sealing a death wish,” Nicki answers with a shake of her head. “Roman gon’ have all they asses for this.”

Naomi sighs loudly, advising Solana after the bickering results in one of the men from the other group getting the upper hand, landing a particularly brutal looking kick to Jey. “There’s been some….contention between Sami and the twins, mostly Jey, but Nicki isn’t entirely wrong. They should know better than to let that shit interfere with a match. Roman will most likely make them stay after and……yeah.”

Solana doesn’t need a detailed explanation. She has a good idea of what Roman making them pay will look like. It’s also not something she wants to see.

The match, in and of itself, despite the excitement and pure interest of everyone around her, isn’t necessarily something she wants to see. Solana has seen, been exposed, and experienced enough fighting violence to last her a lifetime. 

This is entertainment to them, but for her, it’s been her lived experience.

So, she doesn’t feel any sort of adrenaline rush watching grown men beat the crap out of each other, blood, sweat, and bruised, battered bodies putting themselves through hell. It gives her some relief to see that the Bloodline, for the most part, remains with the upperhand. Even with their in-house argument earlier in the fight. 

But, it’s when the timer that ends with another man joining the brawl moves to a ten second countdown that her interest grows a bit more. It grows a bit because Roman is finally about to enter the ring.

She watches him, has mostly just watched him this entire time. He’s just as unbothered as he was the minute he walked in. Adjusting his gloves while Paul clearly tries to bestow some last minute wisdom before he makes his entrance.

It feels a bit redundant. She’s certain this man doesn’t need anyone helping him with anything.

And as soon as the timer winds down to zero, Roman gradually making his way to the ring, Solana knows she was right. Knows he doesn’t need help, because he’s been studying and planning for the past almost 45 minutes. Strategizing.

It shows the minute the men, all 10 of them go at it. It’s hard to keep track of all of the mayhem, fists flying, kicks landing in areas that are sure to require a couple days to recover. But, it’s Roman who still manages to catch and hold Solana’s attention. He moves with such precision and accuracy, blows every bit as barbarous and violent as his reputation warrants.

There’s a small part of her that experiences something she can’t quite label or understand when he takes a hit, especially when a member of the other team manages to catch Roman off guard, sending him into the table, the weight of him snapping it in half.

At that, she nervously starts to move her fingers up and down the side of her dress. But, Roman, while clearly impacted from the blow by the blood starting to stream down the back of his arm only seems further enraged. Like being attacked has somehow refueled him, recharged his already pre-existing rage.

“They are in trouble now….” Naomi murmurs, shaking her head, as if she knows what’s about to come. “Roman hates getting hit, and they made him bleed too?”

It’s the blood part, maybe, that bothers Solana. It’s silly given who he is and the fact that he’s clearly holding his own just fine, but Solana wonders why he doesn’t or can’t have that tended to. It has to hurt.

But, then again, it all hurts, so maybe the pain just numbs itself out.

And maybe Roman is clearly caught up and consumed in adrenaline, in the mad rush of the battle, because it seems from the table slam on out, no one is touching him. He’s all over the place, strong blows resulting in grown men crying out in pain. She’s certain those closer to the actual ring can hear the sound of bones crunching, an inevitable thing given the abnormal distortion of limbs she sees on the other team.

He yells and taunts his opponents, one by one, laying them out with the somewhat assistance of the rest of the men. Truth be told, Roman could have probably tagged out the other four men and handled the other team all on his own. 

He’s just that effective.

And when there’s only one man standing, barely, Roman moves to the other side of the ring, face turned up in rage, watching and waiting for the perfect moment for him to dart across, laughing into a spear so forceful that it knocks the man unconscious instantly, guaranteeing an instant, easy pin.

The crowd erupts in cheers, Roman’s music sounding as Samantha formally announces the Bloodline as the winners.

There’s a strange sense of relief that Solana has at that, at the fact that this is all over, that the fighting is done. That Roman is done, because her mind keeps going toward the fact that he probably needs some level of medical attention and when said attention is going to happen.  

But while she expects the Bloodline to start their exit, she’s instead met with security dragging the unconscious bodies of the losing team outside of the ring.

“What’s happening?” Solana asks Bayley, realizing that the women are starting to pack up to head out. “Isn’t—isn’t it over?”

“For us, yes.” Her eyes set on the twins, Solo, and Sami. “For them, it’s just beginning.” Solana reflects back on their in-ring argument and Naomi’s foreshadowing about this happening, about this punishment.

And one glance at Roman, his hulking shoulders lifting and lowering with his heavy panting. His eyes are flaming with a fury he clearly intends to take out on his team.

“Come on.” Naomi draws Solana’s attention. “I’ll ride home with you, cause Solo ain’t gon be free no time soon.”

None of them will.

Solana recognizes this and agrees, but it’s not without a sense of disappointment at not leaving with Roman.

And that confuses her. It confuses her a lot.

She didn’t arrive with him, so why would she leave with him?

More importantly, why does she care that she’s not leaving with him?

—----------

“I–I can do that for you.”

There are some things meant to be thought and some things meant to be said. This is one of those things that should have stayed in Solana’s head instead of rolling off her tongue the way it does. 

She was only supposed to ask him if he wanted her to make anything in particular for breakfast tomorrow, not offer to freaking suture stitches for him.

Well, that’s not entirely true, because as it’s almost damn midnight, she could and should at least be in bed trying to sleep. She’s been home for almost two hours, showered, changed into her oversized shirt and sweats. 

She shouldn’t even be standing before him, but there was some type of unease she had at trying to fall asleep without making sure he made it home, without seeing to it that he tended to any injuries he sustained tonight.

Solana almost feels like that’s what she should do, like she should make sure she’s available to assist him with anything he may need. Like it’s just another thing that could keep him from directing his anger from earlier towards her. 

And it’s slightly less stressful for her in knowing that he’s more likely to harshly dismiss her, maybe even chastise her for unintentionally implying he’s somehow incapable. However, instead of a rebuff, he simply looks at her, asking, “you know how?”

Solana doesn’t know why, but she takes this as a sign that he’s accepting her offer. Walking over to where he sits at the kitchen island, she sees he already has the supplies laid out. “I—I’ve had a lot of experience.”

Some of it from patching up her dad and brother but most of it from patching up herself over the years, from watching and learning from her mother tend to her wounds after sustaining beatings from Xavier. “My mom was also a nurse. She—she taught me a lot.” Like the proper way to suture. “Did—did you already disinfect?”

Solana is slightly nervous when he says no. That means she’s the one that’s going to have to inflict that brief but potent burning pain.

Lovely.

Nonetheless, she readies the cloth, holding it over the cut before warning, “this—this might sting.”

“I don’t care.” And she believes it. Seeing him in the ring tonight, his prowess, his brutality, she’s not sure if anything could hurt him.

Solana proceeds to clean and disinfect the area before grabbing the sutures to start stitching him back up.

Roman suddenly asks her. “Did you want to go into the medical field?” Roman recalls from the file he read on her that she never pursued any higher education beyond high school, something else he marked against her at the time. Education and knowledge have always been important to him.

But meeting her and slowly learning more about her backstory, he wonders if that was of her own choosing, hence his asking.

Solana, meanwhile, can’t figure out why he’s even talking to her in the first place. He seemed, justifiably, annoyed with and not wanting to be bothered with any and everyone post match. Now he’s asking her questions about things she hasn’t thought about in years. 

Still, she answers with the truth. “I—I wanted to be a nurse. Like my mom.” 

This doesn’t surprise Roman as he follows up with, “why didn’t you?”

A lot of reasons. Many of which she has very little desire to share, not that she could or would even want to ever voice as such to the man sitting in front of her. 

That’d be an instant death wish.

“My—my father. He, umm, didn’t want me to leave home.” It’s a version of the truth, the unabridged version being he didn’t want her to leave home because he wouldn’t be able to control her if she did so.

And Solana has a feeling that she doesn’t need to share all that, that Roman already knows this.

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Roman’s delivery, like most of the time, is insensitive. But, he genuinely wants to know. For what reason did she stay there all those years, in a house of horrors instead of just leaving and never looking back?

It’s a fair, simple question with a complex, layered answer that she greatly simplifies. 

“I tried. It—it never worked out.” And it’s when Roman hears the sudden sadness in her voice, sees the way her eyes temporarily shift to her inner forearms, horizontal faded scars that he’s just now able to see from how close she is to him that he gets it.

He realizes that she tried in more ways than one, none of them being successful.

And in a truly coincidental way, Solana notices he’s also cut on the back of his bicep. It’s also in her being so close to him that she realizes underneath the intricacies of the tribal tattoos on his forearm, there are scars. Burn scars, nothing severe, but visible enough for her to notice. 

It makes her wonder about where he got them, how he got them, not that she’d ever have enough bravery to ask.

She instead clears her throat and gestures to the cut. “Do–do you want me to do that one too?”

It takes a second for Roman to think about what she’s asking. “Is it deep enough?”

Without thinking about it, she brings her hand to finger to lightly feel the cut that was clearly poorly and in a rush patched up post fight. Nodding, she explains, “it’s deeper than about 1/4th an inch, so yeah, I—you should let me.” And in realizing she’s touching him, like she isn’t doing the same thing while suturing, she snatches her hand back, apologizing quietly.

He doesn’t think he’s ever had a woman apologize for touching him.

“Okay.” 

And that’s it, he doesn’t protest, doesn’t chastise her for making it seem like he doesn’t know or understand injuries. He just allows her to work on him, Solana doing her best to ignore the fact that he’s so close to her, his big, strong body, even while seated, overwhelming her. 

But while this would typically cause Solana to go into panic mode, being so close to a half dressed man, she doesn’t feel that with Roman. She doesn’t feel anything at all. No anxiety, no fear, just some nameless emotion that doesn’t evoke her typical nervous responses.

“Okay.” Finishing up, Solana moves to clean up the supplies, discarding what is no longer usable. “Just….don’t get it wet for next few hours, and apply the ointment as needed, but—I’m sure you know all this already.” She feels silly for speaking to him as if he hasn’t patched himself up or been stitched up countless time before. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna go to bed now.”

Not wanting to risk embarrassing herself further, she turns on the heel of her foot and starts walking off, only to stop when he calls for her. 

“Solana.”

She turns around, and Roman is briefly caught up in how she presses her lips together, trying to suppress a frown. She thinks she’s done something wrong.

One more sweep of her frame from bottom to top, remembering the stunning complement and contrast of the red dress against her complexion. He compliments, “you looked beautiful tonight.”

She looks absolutely taken back by what is an obvious statement. Taken back and confused. “M—me?” She’s pointing to herself, brows arching together. And for a second, there’s a small hint of a growing smile as she asks, as if he could have made a mistake. “Really?”

He didn’t.

Roman doesn’t make mistakes

Solana has a lot of things fucked up about her, but one thing not a damn person can deny is that she’s absolutely gorgeous with a body to match. That’s just a fact, why he felt the need to express said fact is a bit beyond him, but Roman doesn’t allow himself to think too much about it. It’s not a sentimental thing at all, just a plain fact being stated, if anything.

“Thank you,” she finally says as he notices the reddening of her cheeks. “Umm, good night.” Solana’s hand is on the banister, her finger squeezing tighter than the coils in her stomach. “Roman?”

It would be a hell of a lot easier if he would have just ignored her, but he doesn’t. His gaze snaps up to her from the phone now in his hand.

The same hand she witnessed just tonight pummel grown men, just as muscular and intimidating as he is to a bloody pulp. The same hand that could easily take her life, could have her clinging onto life with just one beating. And that’s all she can see at the thought of telling him about Grayson and Theory messing with her, that it’s now happened twice, they’ve caught her off guard and alone, sexually harassing her. 

Nia’s words from the other day return to the front of her mind.

“He wants you to stop being so weak.”

He’ll blame her. He’ll blame her the same way her father blamed her for what they did to her. He’ll blame her for being so weak. That’s what Solana knows will happen. Knows he’ll say she was leading them on, that she must have done something to garner their interest in her. And he’ll be angry.

He’ll be angry at her.

And nothing good ever comes out of Roman Reigns being angry.

She’s seen it for herself firsthand tonight.

Determine to find a way to deal with this on her own, she shakes her head, “nothing. S–sorry.” She’s turned back to the steps when he says her name this time. His tone clear and authoritative.

She jumps, immediately turning back around to face him. He’s now standing near the steps where she stands, halfway between rescue and ridicule.

Something flashes in his gaze at her obvious nervousness, but he quickly refocuses on the topic at hand. “You have something to say, so say it.”

A deep layer of regret and anxiety settles in at the realization that there is no lying to Roman. He’s adroitly skilled in reading between the lines and seeing through bullshit. Or maybe she’s just that bad at lying.

Hopefully not the latter because another lie is about to roll right out.

“I was just—I was gonna sleep in tomorrow, but I have to make your breakfast, so I’ll just—”

“You don’t have to do anything, Solana.” 

Roman knows she’s lying. Knows she just pulled that out of her ass instead of sharing whatever it is she initially wanted to say. It’s probably something stupid too, something he won’t give two shits about, but something she thinks he gives two shits about. And he’d push her if not for the fact he can tell she’s getting all nervous and shit on him again. The last thing he needs is her having another panic attack. 

“Sleep in,” he directs. This is a conversation, much to his chagrin, that will have to take part in sections. And it’s too late in the evening to hash out one of those sections. And to be fair, there is a part of him that recognizes she probably does feel like she needs to be up at the ass crack of dawn like him to have his first meal of the day ready to go. And his lunch. And his dinner.

Granted, Roman can’t and won’t complain about all of it, because the girl can cook her ass off.

But, it’s not necessary.

He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.

He’s done so since he was 10 years old.

“Thank you.” She does that thing again where she smiles like he’s just told her she’s won the lottery or been given the cure to world hunger. It’s the simplest things that seem to make her happy. Considering the bar has already been set so low, it makes a bit of sense.

It makes a lot of sense.

“Goodnight.”

Roman is certain she’s intentional in the way she turns on the heel of her foot to move up the stairs, putting as much distance between the two of them to avoid a follow up question. Her avoidance behavior is a bit impressive, irksome, but still impressive, nonetheless.

And it would be remiss of Roman to not sneak a peak of her retreating form moving up the steps, his eyes glued to the sway of her ass, again remembering that short, red dress that momentarily distracted him when he laid eyes on her at the match.

Roman would never deny his physical attraction to her. That’s just a fact. She’s shaped in a way that makes his dick hard at the thought of having that body underneath his, writhing, begging for him to not stop fucking her in all the ways he would if he could.

But, that’s a fantasy. It’s a fantasy because the reality is that he can’t even touch this girl without her freaking out on him, something that would annoy him greatly if he didn’t realize there’s a reason behind her jumpiness.

Something that’s beyond just her shitty father and brother. 

Roman doesn’t allow himself to travel down that path, to see what it might lead to because just the thought of what might be the reason she doesn’t like being touched has his fist forming at his side, nostrils flared, and anger brewing at an accelerated pace that doesn’t make sense.

It also doesn’t make sense when he grabs his phone, navigating to the desired thread, sending a text he doesn’t think much about.

Roman: Get me a list of dog breeders. Small dogs. Preferably local. We can travel if necessary.

Paul: Sir?

Roman: Just do it.

Paul: I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[nthspecialll]

Something that rips me apart while being in camp is seeing Abigail and how little she interacts with the others. Most of the characters have interactions or encounters with other characters where they tell their story, fool around or just socialize. It is every day chit chatter, but not Abigail. Abigail's few only encounters are shouting at the campfire that being a mother sucks, talking to John about their child, Susan telling her to take up sex work or Micah trynna hit on her.

She has events, but none of them are as light hearted as Mary-Beth and Karen discussing a romantic curse, Bill praising Javier to the heavens to Sean because of a Job, a bigger group singing songs or Hosea giving advice.

Even in the two events she has with other girls that are nice, she is being a provider, she is being a mother, not to Jack but to the girls as she comforts them.

A lot of the times she will also sit on her own by the tent next to Jack, whereas a lot of the others will be sitting by the fireplace, even if they aren't talking, they are socializing.

She is similar to the gang, yet so different because she is a mother. Yes she is a theif like Mary-Beth, but she is also a mom. Yes, she is an attractive catch like Karen, but she is also a mom. There is a rift there that none of the other characters can relate to and because of that she gets isolated even if it isn't intentionally.

It really breaks my heart to see, often times she also sounds so damn tired when you speak to her or when you hear her muttering "what would I do without you?" to Jack.

Another thing that makes it worse is the fact she has zero support, there is no one there for her. There is a chance of her coming up to ask Arthur for five dollars because she needs to clothe her child yet John won't help. She carries a completely different burden and worry from the others, that they would not relate to. The only one who can is Arthur, because he too has had a child.

Arthur does help whereever he can, taking the role of John the best he can because he is a provider, but it is still quite clear there is a line that the two of them don't cross. Both of them know that John is meant to care for Abigail because he got her pregnant and it is his responsibility, and especially in this time period there really is this idea of "he is meant to help, so he will," the problem is though that John doesn't help, so Abigail is left on her own. Arthur only steps in in the worst times when she truely is at rock bottom.

[rainbowbeanstyles]

I'm gonna share here these tips this psychologist shared with us fans grieving over Liam💔(the call was for spanish speaking fans, so I'm gonna try my best to translate it). A bit long.

Validate your own grief Many people won't understand, but your grief is completely natural and you should not be ashamed of it. Grief is when you experience the loss of something or someone significant/important in your life, doesn't always have to be a family member or friend. Don't reduce the artist to an everything or your childhood They are your memories, they happened and it was great when they did. Remember them in their true nature. Try to find where to place the artist. Do not lose sight of everything else around you because of this loss. Identify your role as a fan Try not to reach a limit where you find yourself in a parasocial relationship with the artist. Express and communicate your emotions You don't need to do it with someone else, you can also express and communicate your emotions by yourself. Don't bottle them up. You can talk alone, you can write on a journal, you can scream. As long as you let it all out. Find a group of supportive people People that you know will help you during these difficult moments. They don't have to be family or friends. Between fans, you are not alone🫂 Have a healthy and centered routine If you isolate yourself constantly, your mind will get used to thinking of grief only. Have a mixed/diverse rutine. It will feel really bad at first, but eventually your mind will assimilate it and start to clear up. Identify your reach as a fan Do not overwork yourself, try not to control everything. If a decision happened without your control, it's not your fault. Attend to your own needs and reactions Grief is personal. Think about the way your hurt feels and the way it's affecting you. Try to find the best way to handle this. Expose yourself to the artist gradually As the days pass, it's good to expose yourself to the artist so you don't develop a permanent fear. Gradually expose yourself to his content. You can start by pictures, listening to little bits of songs and his voice. One second, five seconds, litte by little. Remember his music as something nice, beautiful, something happy and it will help a lot. Don't let your emotions affect your future Our emotions distort our thoughts. "I'm never going to get over this / I will never be the same", those are emotional thoughts, you have them because of fear and/or sadness. Do not let them lead you. Ask yourself "Why am I struggling to accept this? Why am I scared?". Don't condemn yourself. Confront your problems, don't run away from them Try not to depend on artists or different content and having them as a complete safe space (HARD I KNOW). Think about what's making you want to run to this content for safety. Find solutions or ways to manage situations that make you want to "hide" or "run away".

That's it! I hope me sharing this helps at least a little, I know it helped me so I thought it'd be nice to share. I tried my best, if a tip confused you, you can ask me and I'll try to explain it better💌

Also the call had a lot of views! It was very sweet that all these fans got to find a space where their feelings were validated and understood:'( Take care everybody and I'm sending you a million more hugs.

[violettwrites]

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

[cyb3rtarot]

Pick a Pile: Your Archetype & Career

Disclaimer: readings are not replacements for professional advice. Take what confirms, not confuses. You make your own life, not a reading. I’ll be looking at what traits you embody when working and what kind of work may fulfill that!

Help a Palestinian family!: 1 2 3 4 5

pile 1 🔗 pile 2 pile 3 🔗 pile 4

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Pile 1

Your archetype [High Priestess, Ace of Pentacles]: hi pile one! You guys do things from an intuitive place, naturally getting ideas of improvement. This is helpful to a group dynamic, the person that invents, creates, or comes up with the next venture. You may not know where this inspiration comes from, but this is your intuition or senses bringing things subconsciously perceived to the forefront of your mind. For example, you may have good pattern recognition with trends, or you may be able to blend many influences from others into an original style. If you’re spiritual, your inspiration may come from your practice. The ideas you come up with can be very fruitful; you know what will work. You could contribute a lot of plans to something you just joined even if you aren’t familiar with it. Whereas some are driven by passion or desire, the quality of what you produce doesn’t necessarily depend on whether you’re “into it” or not, because your intuition helps you rather than conscious thought or emotion. This inspiration may also guide you directly towards opportunities when you need them. You might be much more into the initial thinking process rather than the work itself. You can easily give ideas to others, but you yourself could take a long time or not be interested in implementing your own good thoughts and advice. Like offering others the seeds because you prefer not to grow them yourself. This could manifest as roles where you delegate a lot, give someone a concept to make reality, or provide the beginning material to a project. You may struggle communicating ideas though, whether this is difficulty being understood or a desire to withdraw. A lot of chaos you experience happens once you bring other people into the equation. It’s like you produce these amazing blueprints, but when you've had to share them, have conversations at work, or begun working with others, things have gone awry. You may have a cycle of negative experiences working with others. Something about the whole process keeps you trying to make it work, but still having some kind of burn or crash at the end. So, some of you may job hop or do more eccentric work.

What kind of work might fulfill this part of you?: It’s important for you to rest and not force yourself to be one way or the other. There’s opposite energy, where your ideas provide promising routes to take, but your sensitive & intuitive self suffers when you throw all your energy in. There may be a strong urge to isolate or work at unconventional hours. You may find success in supporting these parts of yourself, such as through remote or hybrid jobs. You could enjoy working at night or in another environment where the amount of people around decreases, including but not necessarily working by yourself. This doesn’t have to be your own home. Working with others through private consultation or in their home may be an option, or being something like a digital nomad. Anything with more intimate, cozy, or peaceful feelings. That doesn’t mean working in an office is out, but struggles in communication or processing ideas may improve in personal settings, or when you speak with consideration to emotion. Work that’s emotionally satisfying or requires a bit of sympathy may be fulfilling. When working with others, you may over-compromise or offer too much which leaves you drained, since you offer things that come from your deeper, intuitive self rather than passing thoughts or emotions. Work that can be done with less contact (for example, less big groups and more individual interaction), or work that can often be done at your own pace both may address this. Many of you may really enjoy physically making things; I see someone making pottery. You’re able to physically create things that are healing, or this process could be healing to you, even as a hobby. In general, jobs that require physical effort versus just mental effort get you out of your head. They allow you to work on tasks that depend on effort rather than navigating mental and social demands or office politics. Even being a healer, especially someone who goes to others’ homes and provides personal care, or working with medical equipment, could be one application of this. Contract work—something with a definite start and end—or something that guarantees work within a specific time may be compatible. This could also be presenting or writing contracts for others. Some of you could find fulfillment working with the government or an organization, especially something that requires you to physically go do work (like working inside and then working in the field or going to meet people), or something with a quiet environment. You may excel in giving others ideas or tasks and supporting them as they work on it, giving ideas for businesses, giving prompts of some kind or ghostwriting. You may also heal outside of the physical; some of you could feel fulfilled in helping people start a new phase of life. This could be coaching, social, or community work; I get personal vibes. If you’re religious, you may enjoy working at a place of worship or religious organization. Even providing religious or spiritual services from your home, bringing these to others, or providing support in a place of worship.

Extra Details: the moon/full moon (Capricorn full moon may be significant), hermit/isolation/shut in, late night, yellow, orange, space interest, gaming, Mercury/ Mars in difficult aspect to Sun/Saturn, natal oppositions, heavy Cancer or Capricorn placements, Earth stellium, 4th & 10th house, social/speech difficulties, cycles of burn out or broken partnerships, worked with (relationship) partners, working in fields you have no passion but no conflict with. If you don’t merge work & interests, you may have success incorporating more emotionally satisfying things into work—you guys should acknowledge emotional whims. You may divorce yourself from pleasure and ignore what you like. Balance is needed. If something like work takes up a lot of time, create reminders or pieces of space/time where you can engage with something that brings you joy/amusement, especially if you sacrifice satisfaction for others. Check in with your logic + emotions more, as intuition is just one part of the picture. Spiritual counseling or business, less traditional medical jobs (again I see something with med equipment such as hospice, or care for conditions that require devices), neurodivergence, sacrificing self to support a partner/ team (burn out!), (potential) catalyst for societal change, mothering tendencies. If you already felt drawn to pile 2, it may resonate

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link  |  Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post!

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Pile 2

Your Archetype [7 of cups rx, Queen of Swords rx]: hello pile two! You’re adept at making important & deep judgements. You get to the root of the matter and cut through BS. You have a sharp, investigative mind or are very knowledgeable in your fields of interest, and that allows you to see things others can’t always see, to evaluate, research, and bring clarity. You could excel in teaching or training. Your mental abilities also suit roles with objective judgements, such as a researcher, investigator, lawyer, or a decision maker. You could be someone who always knows things can be far better even when it seems like a far possibility (though some of you struggle with excessive pessimism), and from this you can create a real plan. You may enjoy presenting facts or ideas more than completing the project. These are not just academic or professional roles, but also you as a person. There’s air and water, logic & emotion, but rather than combine them I think you use logic to cut through emotion. You might be the friend who people complain to and you give simple advice on how they can fix their issue, but they just wanted to complain lol. The Queen of Swords is reversed like the 7 of cups, able to see things how the cups figure does, however the figure is still turned towards the many dreams in the cups. She can’t really offer her sword of truth because they can’t see her. You may struggle to communicate what you know or make connections due to finding it difficult to meet people where they are in their emotions or knowledge level. Some of you may have physical difficulties communicating like language barriers or speech disorders. Some of you are also pursuing something but hit a wall, for example, struggling to continue studies, or relationship stagnation, so it’s your own dreams that feel out of reach. There’s energy of being unable to accept something, though ironically you may dislike this trait in others. You have all the knowledge and skill to bring order in whatever role you pursue, but you need to ground yourself mentally. Give yourself space to process emotion in conjunction with thoughts instead of always handling them separately, especially if you know you’re not being honest with yourself. Try to imagine things from others’ perspectives. All the sense, fact, or skill in the world cannot get through a stubborn emotional wall. Many people are looking at things from feelings rather than objectivity, so if you want to communicate with them through the latter, try identifying what may be on their mind or how emotion could impact their judgment. It’s not that you’re invalid when trying to communicate, this just may help you handle emotion more smoothly. And, the same applies for logic. We have to accept when people aren’t ready to face something, grow, or learn; we cannot chase after them forever hoping they’ll change. You may feel yourself to be the one in reality while they’re lost in illusion, but by continuously chasing someone with words when they’re not listening, you have also placed yourself in illusion. Knowing logically something can change or knowing facts does not mean that's what will play out in reality, and reality does not always bend to our sense of what's right.

Your details remind me of pile 1, if you already felt drawn.

What kind of work might fulfill this part of you?: you may excel in working with children, families, married, and vulnerable people. You may find this confusing if you struggle with connecting to others’ emotions, but your mental nature may help you. Because, specifically I see a role where you solve issues. This could be being a teacher like I said, especially someone who teaches fundamentals, like a teacher to young students who helps them get a grasp on the world, or a tutor. You could show people what's possible after issues or stagnation, reintroducing people to life, giving a “new lease on life.” As one example, helping to overcome trauma. You may feel fulfilled in helping to give new starts through government, social work, or especially the adoption/foster care system. Some of you may be really good matchmakers or good at matching children to appropriate homes & schools. You’re capable of showing people a bright future through overcoming, introducing new phases, starting new things, or pointing people to resources. If you're interested in medical work, this also reminds me of rehab (any kind of rehab, including physical), and some of you may enjoy medical work that involves children or fertility. If you’re interested in legal, you could find jobs where you investigate and brings things to a close, such as finding missing people or helping people get away from abuse. There’s an emotional aspect to things that fulfill you, but rather than needing your emotions to make it work, more so you’d find fulfillment where people would appreciate you or you create a lot of hope for them, because these situations would require your intellect. There’s an energy of making promises and this could be contracts, such as a teacher’s contract, or I’m not sure exactly what this is but you may present contracts to people. And this is something I picked up in your archetype—you may drift into roles where you have the power to “let” people into an organization or unit. So, you may decide on others and see what places they’re suited for, whether this is organizing students, children, or some kind of recruiter, evaluator. Essentially, the work that seems fulfilling to you requires problem-solving skills and passing judgements for improvements, especially for those who don’t have anyone else who can do this for them. 

For many of you there’s already something specific that’ll bring you a lot of emotional fulfillment but you're resisting it because of the difficulties I mentioned above, or because your family is trying to turn you away from it, and this seems to be some kind of passion project, hobby, or business you want to run (something about food or nature)? You either need to sit with yourself and separate your thoughts and plans from family, or try to approach it from a new angle, such as taking a non-traditional route rather than what you’ve already tried. It’s okay to decide not to, but it should be your decision. For others, if that doesn’t resonate, you could find success in running your own business, but especially if you incorporate a hobby or passion into it, even if it’s not traditionally how it would be done. This pile may find more success if you allow yourself to go towards things that make you feel good rather than just what logically makes sense.

If you really struggle working closely with others, you may like offering remote services. For example, chatting with people or sending emails—rather than speaking face to face where you may be uncomfortable relating emotionally & spontaneously.

Extra details: internal work like meditation or therapy, hard time mentally accepting something or mental dishonesty, neurodivergent, stubbornness, something about academic dishonesty—I feel you would be able to discern when someone’s work is not authentic or you’d be good test proctors or something. Farming, culinary, cafes. Neurodivergence. Helping people who are separated from reality, or finding yourself in that situation even though you were careful. Uncanny intuition and/or divination. Blueberries and/or the color blue is significant, blue moon?

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link  |  Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post!

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Pile 3

Your Archetype [Strength rx, 5 of pentacles]: hello pile 3! You have amazing strength and courage, but it’s hard for you to feel this for what it is. At your healthiest expression, your archetype shows up as no BS. You have the ability to remove yourself from harmful situations even if it means enduring loneliness or hard times. You’re not the one who is going to self-sacrifice constantly hoping to turn the situation around with the power of light and friendship, you’re the one that says I’m out of here lol. “My ride’s comin I’m leavin’ 🤨.” In less healthy expressions, you feel disconnected from your own bravery, feeling weak or cowardly. You may flip extremes, running away from anything a little scary, to clinging onto actually scary things & people for a sense of security.

There’s two different main groups in this pile. Some of you became this way because you had to already endure or leave a messed up situation. For a lot of you, I’m seeing someone played games with your mind or exploited your friendship, or innocence? I get this hopelessly in love energy from a lot of you and I think you learned a hard lesson through relationships, especially some of you mixed work and relationship (which is not always bad but always potentially messy). So, you’re currently in a vulnerable energy and that reflects in how you express yourself in all areas. If some kind of work or passion starts to sting, you may retreat quickly and move to the next thing even if it seemed promising. The other group needs to hear a message about moving on. This is for those of you who know you’re being mistreated or in a harmful situation, even sacrificing material stability and peace to have someone by your side. Of course, that’s going to reflect in the reality you manifest. On the top of the deck I saw the Devil and 6 of pentacles, but the Sun was behind the 6 of pentacles. It’s like you’re purposefully feeding something to hurt you, knowing it will hurt you, and then expecting a different outcome. Why? You’ve seen the result; initiate the choices needed if you truly want something different. Whatever vice or harm you’re allowing towards yourself is very tied to stagnant financial energy or lack of ambition you may be experiencing. The larger message for everyone is to believe in your own strength. Being in 5 of pentacles energy is not all bad; the lights behind the travelers remind us help is closer than we accept. But, you don’t have to take every shiny pentacle that rolls your way; it’s fine to endure a journey to find what’s right for you. Maybe you feel you’re not that strong because you don’t endure things other people do, or you haven’t gone through certain things, made certain choices. Even feeling childish. But there's vibrant strength radiating from you like the Sun. And if you do feel more child-like than your peers, that’s one of the good qualities of The Sun, not a bad one. It takes a lot of courage to choose less convenient paths. And if you have stuff poking holes in your energy, that impacts your life negatively! If only you don’t give your Sun away to things that leech off you; your energy is a lot stronger and more organized than you think. 

What kind of work might fulfill this part of you?: I'm getting a message rather than specific jobs. The work that fulfills you will be more apparent as you do more inner work. This work (that fulfills you) is a marriage of your shadow side with your tranquil side. There’s a need to go deep into your pain & shadow, and to accept or show compassion to these. I’m not sure if there’s a disconnect between your conscious mind or external life and your pain, for example, maybe you have a lot of trauma you’ve not really reflected on or have only scratched the surface of. Maybe you aren’t really sure how to reconcile your agony and hard times with other parts of your life and self. There’s two polarities, and your message is about bringing these in union, meaning not fully merged as one. It’s okay if your shadow side, trauma, agony, pain, or dark emotions don’t fully make sense or can’t be perfectly merged with other parts of yourself right now. When people do shadow work, a lot are trying to eradicate their shadow because it’s associated with pain. We see shadow work as our way to triumph our trauma, to destroy it. When we speak of healing, people usually mean controlling their shadow, to get rid of it through merging it or turning it into light. I believe we’ll all keep running into the same problems collectively until we stop trying to kill the shadow. The shadow is not pain, it forms in response to pain. It’s a proof of existence, of an experience having happened, but not the experience itself. Work that fulfills you will come out of allowing this shadow side to exist with the creative, productive, enlightened etc parts of yourselves. By doing this, things you produce will naturally speak to others, or your impact will be farther reaching. For example, if you worked in the medical field, you’d excel in providing true comfort to patients, especially as some kind of doula or even a death doula. If you created art, your art would really speak to people since you could incorporate your shadow instead of only light & fun. If you did spiritual work, you could relate more or provide more accurate service. Basically, acknowledgement of your own shadow gives a platform for the same to happen in others, and in this process lies something that speaks to your soul.

A lot of you are struggling in mental anguish, or a feeling like never waking up from a bad dream. I understand how you feel, and I wish I had a better answer for you. No matter how much we speak about inner peace or life advice, real life and brain chemistry is not that simple usually. In spiritual communities, I think we’ve regressed in accepting the shadow, partially due to ideologies that rely on never acknowledging what we don’t want to be true. I think you should feel whatever negative emotions you have without self judgment. Even without mental judgment; try not to extrapolate your pain, like saying your life will always be terrible because you’re in pain now and have been. Even if you think that, try to let the emotions pass through without telling them what they must mean or be, like a passing stranger you’re observing. Pain tends to blur clarity, but we think this is not true for mental pain even though that can be the most confusing kind. I’m not saying doing this will fix your life problems, but someone needed to hear that. I always encourage you to take advantage of mental health resources that are accessible if needed.

There’s also a repeating theme about awareness or alertness. Pain is pushing you into an unalert phase? You’re encouraged to not over-analyze your pain or anything else. You may benefit a lot from an activity or routine that forces you to be wholly present or engrossed for an amount of time. Something physically engaging or a sensory experience especially, even just making yourself stand in the Sun for longer than you normally would (and wear sunscreen lol) ((although I’m really talking about something even more engaging, something that fully takes you out of your head like a martial art? Physically crafting something, walking outside, etc. Stuff like standing in the Sun is okay, but the point is to not be in your head or on devices for a set amount of time. Mental activities or devices may keep you too close to your thoughts and not as aware)).

Extra details: work relationship or friends with benefits, relationship or feelings for childhood friend, or a childhood friend going through relationship troubles, love triangle or 3-person relationship. Varied job interests or no specific interest in one field. Bright eyes, beautiful eyes, or intriguing gaze. Need for inner child work or acknowledgment, especially if having issues with peers from childhood. Spiritual art, or the process of exerting effort can be a spiritual experience for you, even exercising, anything you throw yourself into. For some of you, creating art that makes you feel nostalgic or is based in your nostalgia might be rewarding. Dark circles or lines under eyes, tiredness on face, financial struggle.

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link  |  Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post!

✎﹏﹏ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✎﹏﹏ˏˋ°•*⁀➷﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏

Pile 4

Your Archetype [9 of cups, the Magician]: hi pile 4! Your archetype gives self-assured or self-reliant energy. I’m not saying this is your personality, but these parts of yourself shine through energetically when working towards something meaningful to you, and these are the personalities of the figures in the cards (so, this may be an energy you're developing if you currently feel like the opposite). There’s a sense you hold yourself responsible for your fate, or that by your own hands you can create your success. The Magician is not waiting for someone to come and give him something—in Magician energy, you yourself bring the magic. Maybe it’s been necessary to be self-reliant as there was no one coming to hand you a pentacle or comfort, and the cards on top of the deck suggest this has been a difficult life for many of you (6 of wands rx, Chariot rx..). There’s a sense of taking something within yourself and using that to create more of what you want, though I’m not sure if this is using your talents or just being resourceful. You could be very skilled in emotional alchemy, taking your own struggles and turning it into another situation, though due to lack of support it can be difficult for many of you to reap your just rewards of this effort. I feel intuitively called to say that anything worth having begins in yourself; I feel your life demonstrates this. You’re able to enjoy what you have or what results bloom because of your inner nature, because there’s fullness in you that allows you to project that externally. It’s the opposite energy of someone who can't appreciate or multiply a blessing because of feeling fragmented inside, so they keep getting more things to fill the fragmentation. Rather, you’re able to take what you have inside and make something from scratch. You yourself are enough to make rewards, and you can recognize a blessing when it comes. This pile also loves to have a good time or indulge a bit, so you may be drawn to work where you can keep your fun-loving energy going, for example many of you may enjoy an environment where coworkers regularly go out after work, or you may like mixing social life with work.

What kind of work might fulfill this part of you?: you may find a lot of fulfillment in community work. Rather than being the boss or someone who has control over others, you may enjoy being on the same level as those you’re working with, forming connections directly rather than operating within hierarchy. This pile has very social & communicative energy. That may help you find enjoyment in people-based work, or people will find a lot of enjoyment in you. Earlier when I was pulling my homemade oracle, “spiritual protector” came out. I thought maybe it wasn’t relevant to your reading, but I see you guys are spiritual protectors for the collective. Some of you exude energy that makes people want to run to you or be comforted by you? Or the way you are when socializing is pleasant or life-changing for those in your energy. You guys may particularly find fulfillment in work that deals with messier parts of life. There’s elements of pain, sorrow, hurt, but not from you. I think you may find fulfillment in working with vulnerable people, such as the homeless or people with addictions. I noticed this in other piles too, but for you guys it’s the most direct as your work may find or bring people who are in the midst of that pain. Whereas other piles seemed to offer care after the trauma, your cards suggest not necessarily giving rebuilding material, but meeting them in the storm so they can get to the other side, like a rescue. You may like working with people who just lost everything or were exploited—reaching these people when the hurt is still new may be meaningful to you, or even literally going to them while these situations are taking place such as disaster rescue. What stood out to me is when I read your archetype, the 6 of wands was reversed on the top of the deck. But for this part, the 6 of wands is upright on the bottom of the other deck. You might be motivated to help others directly because of hardships you went through. But also, the support you’ve lacked may be found through those you meet in work, hobbies, or those you help. It reminds me of the typical story we enjoy—the hero is rejected by their origin, but is loved by the community they find and save. I’m not saying you need to save anyone to be loved, but you may find a lot of the social and emotional fulfillment that was withheld from you through your continued efforts or passions. This process may be healing or bring enjoyment—and definitely could be healing to whoever gets to know or support you. You could be a literal protector—you may find fulfillment in work where you help people not make bad decisions, avoid a wrong turn in life, or just offer a helping hand and shoulder to cry on. Even physical protection or aid. You would be that person who shows life is not so bad, and even when it is, it’s not hopeless. You'd be the school counselor that makes a difference in a student’s life. If you did any kind of counseling, your office would be a safe haven. This does not have to be the literal job itself; this is a role you could embody in any environment. Community, social, or volunteer work may just be the most obvious application. I see some of you would enjoy being bartenders or working in a similar environment, one that will listen to patrons and be a kind face. You could have this effect through whatever you create; some of you may enjoy gardening or working with plants? With that example, the effect you had on the environment, or the artistry you create would then create joy and healing in others. Your energy shines through what you produce even if you’re not physically present.

There’s a lot of bold energy, but I pick up on feeling like it’s a facade, or a nagging feeling that you’re of lesser value. The things said throughout your life to oppress and demean you are not a reflection of you, and neither is the nagging voice. Your emotions alone don’t have the means to show you all that you are, so don’t rely on just feelings to measure your self worth.

Extra details: found family, a lot of drinking especially something blue? Or going out with friends a lot, hanging around water like a stream, gin, birds, very chatty personalities! Mercury may be a prominent planet in natal or solar return charts. Bullied in school or by family, or both at the same time. I heard salsa, not sure if the food or dance is significant. Partier. Gardening, farming, working with the natural environment may be significant, including water, some of you could enjoy or benefit from cleaning up locally for example, or spending more time near flowing water and lots of vegetation if you don’t already. You may find some kind of inspiration, or being near flowing water may help you to think through things, have a eureka.

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link  |  Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post!

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[lionheartedmusings]

the thing about q!bad recreating the soulfire base basically block by block and planning to surprise the team with it is that it says a whole lot about him, where is was during purgatory, and where he is now.

q!bad spent months trying to burn bridges and push people away, he effectively placed himself in a distrusted position on the island, his children (the only reason that man breathes) vanished in the middle of the night, he was actively torturing himself and kidnapping people. he was a man on a mission, sure, but time and time again he reinforced to us the audience that he wasn't *happy* about what he had to do. his plan — whatever his plan is — is something he deems necessary enough to have been alright with ruining his own life. as he said to q!baghera: "i'm expendable".

suddenly there's hope in egg island, but egg island is actually a hellscape and he's trapped without his biggest support systems — q!bagi, q!baghera, q!foolish, and even to an extent q!forever were the people he had to take down, they couldn't be there for him anymore. and from his team? other than q!tina and q!aypierre, he wasn't close to anyone or was just... directly antagonistic towards them (mainly q!pac and q!tubbo).

and then the funniest thing happened — he found family in hell and in people he never truly expected to be comfortable around.

he grew to respect and care for q!tubbo, he grew much closer to q!tina, his relationship with q!aypierre was tested and strengthened, he found a connection with q!niki and by god, he protected q!pac — who'd once been terrified of him — with his life. even the people who didn't log on often, he grew to see as part of his pack in a way he (and i) didn't see coming.

when soulfire mains talk about them being the perfect example of found family, that's what we mean. slow, careful changes that grew into love and protection beyond belief — enough that when green gay ninjas were split, everyone was welcomed with a warm hug and a cup of tea, now part of the family undoubtedly and forever. just like that.

their family was hitting their stride when purgatory ended and q!bad tanked a nuke to his back to save his son, and now his bookshelves are all knocked over and his memory's slipping. he's dying, he knows he's dying, and he's holding on by a thread for dapper and pomme even if he's aware that he can't just "bear it" much longer. he's isolated again, hiding and lying about his condition, watching the world turn and knowing his clock is ticking... sometimes he knows nothing at all.

and in this moment of pain, and solemn realization of the end of this version of him?

he's spending his time rebuilding the last place that felt like home block by block, talking openly about how he feels nostalgic and misses their base, their god awful spawn, the memories they made. his time with his daughter has been spent down there.

i know we as a fandom have theorized that one of these days, his memory's gonna snap down there and he'll think he's back in purgatory and it'll be a mess. sure. but right now?

right now that rebuilt base means love, and friendship, and family, and safety. it's the last place things were okay, and he felt cared for in a way that frankly your children can't provide.

a group of ragtag mismatched people got put together in a poor man's hunger games and they saw this demon — bloodthirsty, destructive, full of cold calculated murderous intent and a need to win for his child and instead of being horrified, running away screaming from his fangs and his claws?

they loved him. they found the gentleness beneath the blood and guts. they called him their attack dog because he's so full of love and so protective, and would tear anyone to pieces to protect their family.

team soulfire saw q!bad in a way no one in the island had, and they loved him for it — even when he drove them up the walls and they had to hold the leash tight, they loved him.

and now he's remade their home.

[moonselune]

If your comfortable doing it, fem reader who's been nothing but kind and patient and supportive to everyone, revealing by accident they grew up in a abusive upbringing and it still affects them but they felt compared to everyone else's problems hers were minor and so not worth getting upset over. And of course everyone giving her some support this time

Oof this was hard to write, mainly bcs I'm not too good at writing serious angst, but I hope this is okay !

tw: abuse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a rare, calm evening around the campfire. The group was in good spirits, sharing stories and laughter. You, ever the cheerful one, were in the midst of recounting a particularly funny tale from your past.

"…and that's when my father threw the table across the room because dinner was five minutes late. Good times, right?" you chuckled, the laughter trailing off as you noticed the sudden silence around the fire. The others stared at you, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Astarion was the first to speak, his usual playful smirk replaced with a serious look. "Did you just say your father threw a table at you?"

You blinked, realizing the gravity of what you had just let slip. "Oh, yeah. He had a bit of a temper. But, you know, it's in the past. No big deal."

Wyll leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "No big deal? That's… that's abuse. Why didn't you ever tell us?"

Karlach, her fiery nature tempered by concern, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, why keep something like that to yourself? We're your friends. We care about you."

Shadowheart's eyes were filled with empathy as she added, "You've always been so supportive and happy. I had no idea you were carrying this with you."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Everyone here has their own problems. I just didn't think mine were as bad as what some of you have been through. I didn't want to burden anyone."

Lae'zel looked at you uncharacteristically gently. "Strength is not only in battle but in sharing our burdens. You should not have faced this alone."

Minthara, her stern demeanor softened, nodded in agreement. Gale, ever the one with something to say, spoke up. "Pain is not a competition. Your experiences are valid, and they matter."

"We are a family here. We support each other, no matter the weight of our pasts." Halsin gave you a reassuring smile from across the fire.

Jaheira, who had seen much in her long life and was not terribley surprised by your admission, added with a soft yet firm tone, "You are not alone. We are here for you, just as you have always been here for us."

The weight of their words settled over you, a comforting warmth replacing the usual isolation you felt when thinking about your past. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability.

"Thank you, all of you," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I guess I just got used to hiding it. But it means a lot to know I have your support."

Karlach squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, her warm smile returning. "Anytime. You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

Astarion, his usual humor returning, gave you a wink. "And don't worry, we'll make sure to give you a hard time about it too. Can't have you getting too serious on us."

Laughter rippled through the group, the tension easing. The fire crackled warmly, and you felt a deep sense of belonging.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[just-a-ghost00]

October 2024 forecast | PAC inspired by Kino Tarot

In honor of the beautiful Carey, known as Kino Tarot, I decided to create this reading to : a) help people in need by sharing with you the link to a fund raise. Fares and his family desperately need help. As many others in and near Gaza do. Even just a dollar/euro can be helpful. Thank you to anyone who will share this link and/or donate. -> Cagnottes organisées par Angeline Boswell : Help Fares, Donia, and their Family in Gaza (gofundme.com) b) provide you with a general overview of the upcoming month

To select your group, pick one of the following emojis : 🎃 🍁 🐈‍⬛

Group 1 🎃

Overall energy | 3 of wands

During October you can expect a lot of activity going on, especially if this is your birth month. I'm picking up on a lot of movement either for work or leisure time. You may be feeling restless and adventurous, wanting to indulge in several projects and activities. You may feel a peak in your energy levels as well as your creativity. October feels like a happy time of the year for you in general, especially this year. Your mindset seems to be pretty optimistic and you have a lot of energy to give.

Career and studies | page of wands

This area of your life seems to be going well this month. Again, we have that creativity thing going on. You may feel extra motivated at work or while studying, even more so if you feel like you are being supported and surrounded by motivated people. You are in a position of wanting to learn, wanting to improve, being open to criticism and sharing of experience. Your mindset is pretty positive and ambitious. You feel like you have nothing to lose and thus you are willing to take risks and venture out of your comfort zone. This state of mind may be benefitial to you and get you opportunities.

Health | 3 of pentacles rx

Regarding health, you may be feeling a bit off, out of balance. Which may be the consequence of your high level of activity. October may be a month where you tend to overwork yourself or ignore certain signals your body is sending you. You may want to get your health checked regularly as a mean of prevention. Psychotherapy may be benefitial to you during the month as it will help you distance yourself with the attitude or words of people around you, especially if these people are in a low vibrational energy.

Romance | 10 of cups

Whether you are single or in a relationship of any kind, love is in the air this month. It is in the air because you love yourself enough to ward off any leech that might be trying to suck you dry. Because you are being communicative and clear on your intentions and needs. Love is in the air because people are recognizing your worth and providing you with emotional support. It is in the air because your crush may be reciprocating feelings or your partner may be more affectionate than usual. Not only do you inspire love in others but that love is reflected back at you. This 10 of cups is a very positive omen. The sky is clear and the future looks bright so far.

Family and friends | 4 of pentacles

You are being protective of your energy regarding family and friends. You may be isolating a lot at home during the month or trying to secure bonds within your family. I'm also picking up on the energy of some people trying to protect themselves from the impact and influence of other people in their close circle. That might be true for you if past connections are trying to get back into your life. You are being very careful about what you share and who you let in your circle because you wish to protect your sanctuary and you have every right to do so. There may be people trying to ask you for money or any form of help but either you feel like you are in no position to help them or you do not wish to do so because you are wary of their intentions.

Advice | 10 of wands

Do not take on more than you can chew. Focus solely on your own responsibilities. It is not your place nor your job to do other people's work in their stead. You have no obligation to carry the burdens of others. You have no obligation to help people if you do not wish. You have no obligation to take the lead or show the way, to deprive yourself of certain things because it would make others feel uncomfortable. You are your own person and your needs deserve to be met. You don't have to compromise every time for the sake of others. You have the right to be happy and mind your own business. That does not make you a bad person.

Group 2 🍁

Overall energy | 10 of cups

That is a very good card to start any reading. For you the month of October overall feels very cozy and warm. It is a period of time that is very healing and nurturing for you because I feel like it will lead you to focusing on yourself more instead of constantly being turned towards others. You will be feeling emotionally fulfilled, satisfied with where your life is at and where you're heading to. Which might not have been the case in the past. So congratulations group 2. You can be proud of yourself.

Work and studies | 8 of pentacles

This area of your life seems to be going well. October is going to be a very busy and productive month for you. Your work and studies are likely your priority, even more so if you have any paper that is due or if you're going to be evaluated in any way. You will be grinding and doing your best to be efficient. This may be tiring but you seem to be happy with this situation. Or at least you are managing it so that the exhaustion that comes with it isn't that much of a problem to you. You're aware that efforts and sacrifices are needed in this situation for you to reach the level of success you seek. Which you are willing to make.

Health | 7 of wands

You may be facing challenges regarding your health and fighting against the fatigue and pain you may be experiencing. Some of you may be in denial of your health state. Which would make sense if your work or studies require you to be present and you have no option that would allow you to take a break, or at least you feel so. You may be often times in a state of defensiveness, feeling like you constantly have to be on your guards and proving yourself. Which may result in your body feeling tense, having migraines, shoulder / neck / back pain.

Romance | 5 of cups rx

Regardiing romantic relationships and prospects, you are getting out of a phase of feeling sorry for yourself. You are getting out of a mindset of feeling desperate and needing to feel loved to realize your value. If you were in a conflict with your partner, these tensions are getting resolved. There's an improvement regarding that area of your life, partially because you are no longer counting on external validation to feel good in your shoes and feel like you belong. If you recently broke up or parted ways with a romantic interest, the time when you were crying over them is over. You are getting over the break up and turning your gaze on the future.

Family and friends | 2 of cups rx

You may be feeling like your relationships with your family and friends are a bit out of balance. Yes, you know they love you and you love them but it feels like lately you are constantly making efforts and coming towards them. You are the one who's trying to be the bigger person and you feel like people around you are taking advantage of that. You may be trying to change this tendency by focusing more on your own self and needs. I don't see any big arguments on the horizon but rather a feeling of dissatisfaction that will quickly be dissolved by your course of actions.

Advice | Ace of cups

Remember to fill your own cup. Be kind to yourself. Go one step at a time. Not being the most productive doesn't make you a bad person. Taking time off to rest doesn't make you a bad person. You have the right to be exhausted or sad or frustrated. Your feelings matter.

Group 3🐈‍⬛

Overall energy | 6 of pentacles rx

You may be feeling whacky during October. There's seems to be an imbalance in energies. Either you or things and people around you aren't giving enough / investing enough. You may feel like life is unfair and there's no way to change it. You may feel unmotivated, disappointed, betrayed. You may feel exhausted which may not help your case.

Career and studies | 9 of cups rx

You may be going through a phase where you're doubting your life choices, especially regarding career/studies. You may not be seeing the results that you expected which leads you to doubting yourself and the people around you. Illusions regarding a job or a course have fallen. You are now seeing things and people for what they are. You don't feel as excited and stimulated as you'd hoped. You may be feeling bored and like you're wasting your time. Yes, you get the money but the fulfillment isn't there and that is something that seems to bother you.

Health | 3 of pentacles

An improvement can be expected regarding your health. That may be true especially if you've gone back to practicing a physical activity. You may be learning more in order to take care of your body, mind and soul. I'm picking up on people researching about healthier recipes, breathing techniques to reduce stress. I'm picking up on people trying to understand how their mind works, people finally seeking therapy and doing the work to improve their life by improving their mindset. Good job babes!

Romance | 2 of wands rx

Whether you're single or in a relationship, the sparks aren't there. The anticipation and the butterflies are long gone. Similarily to career/studies, you feel like you don't get as much satisfaction as you'd hoped. Illusions were swept away and you realize that your partner isn't as perfect as you thought, that your crush isn't as into you as you wished, that the person you thought was flirting with you was in fact just being nice. You lack excitement, challenge. You lack passion. You feel lost and you don't know where things are going.

Family and friends | 7 of pentacles rx

You are done waiting for people giving you what you need and want. You are done being kind, nice, generous. You are done being the last priority, being on the side line only to feel stuck and bad about yourself when others are reaping the rewards of your own work sometimes. You are done being underestimated and overlooked. You're ready for war and you want reparation for the damage that was done to you. If you gave money to a friend or a family member, you intend on getting it back. If you were wrongfully accused or hurt by someone, you intend on getting the appologies that you rightfully deserve.

Advice | 10 of pentacles rx

Money isn't everything. Work and studies aren't everything. You need to put more magic and passion into your life. Where has your optimism gone? Where is the child that used to marvel at everything? You need to bring that child back and let him/her take the lead a little.

[kaycode1999]

So this scene has been stuck in my brain for days

Besides the obvious, Orion is a kind hearted bot and you can tell it tugs at his heart strings for him to realize how lonely Bee has been and how badly he wants friends and that’s why he instantly welcomes Bee into their friendship group

However, I think Orion was more welcoming to Bee than you’d probably expect because he saw himself in Bee and found a kinship with him

Bee says “ I kept getting reassigned because I’m so good at what I do”. But he says it in a sarcastic tone that you can tell he doesn’t feel good about himself because of it.

And he also can’t help his curiosity despite how many times he’s been reassigned as he sneaks out to the waste management area. Given how skilled he was getting them on the train he’s definitely either snuck up there before or he got so used to sneaking around at his other jobs he’s just that savvy. Similarly, Bee seems to have a lot more knowledge than he should of things that happened before the Primes were killed, I.E. him talking about the Cybertronian high guard and knowing several of the bots by name, so I have to believe he also snuck into the archives before getting thrown down to sub level 50 and read into a good amount of stuff that was most likely off limits

Orion has a pension for not following protocol; I.E sneaking into the archives, competing in the Iacon 5000, his unwillingness to give up trying to find the matrix of leadership, etc. he even states that everyone knows he wasn’t the most focused miner. Which he feels ashamed of and blames himself for in the scene where Elita gives him a pep talk. As much as he cared about D-16 and their friendship I have a nagging suspicion he also felt alone and misunderstood, after all everyone around him even his best friend believes in Sentinel so much and almost all of them seem to be avid rule followers that don’t struggle the way he does or at least in the same way. D-16 didn’t even agree that looking through the data in the archives was worth it

So he sees this small, wide eyed, yappy bot who’s been left behind in isolation because he was deemed a screw up and didn’t maintain the status quo enough and he sees himself if he didn’t have D-16 and even Elita and the other friends he had with his fellow miners. He sees himself if he hadn’t had people to help him/cover for him or just flat out take the fall for him even when he tries to take the blame. Like when Elita got demoted because of Orion not following protocol *I don’t understand why she was because it’s not like she could have helped the mine collapsing and whether they helped Jazz or not probably wouldn’t have affected the bots in charge in any way but I digress*

He sees Bee as a less lucky version of himself, one that didn’t have the friends and support system he had, and I think he decided right then he would make sure from that point Bee would have someone looking out for him