#but it's also a state I find myself in way too often these days and I don't think it's healthy💀

[multi-dudes]

I think it also needs to be said that the only trauma that is talked about is often these huge, overarching events that the victim either remembers vividly or has a massive basis for remembering. and is painted in a way that makes it easier for neurotypical, nontraumatized people to understand the basic idea of. not those who experience symptoms of C-PTSD or other trauma-based disorders like DID.

even disregarding the fact DID causes varying amnesia and dissociation, micro-trauma is such a real thing. especially for neurodivergent people who are experiencing lifelong struggles like heightened emotions (or crushing lack of), aggressive sensory environments, hallucinations or delusions, etc. and we often deal with those all by ourselves, or told to suck it up, especially as children.

even if it's your normal state, even if that's all you've ever known, those things can cause trauma that build and build. they will until all you can place is a "bad feeling" and post-trauma symptoms.

this was my experience - and I know it's real because I went through emdr (which led to the current syscovery LOL) and processing these "bad vibes" actually worked, for what it's worth. but before that, I absolutely told myself these things were nothing in comparison to what they could've been. the reality is trauma is much more individualized and nuanced.

at 7 years old, this situation repeatedly happening or being put onto you could be more traumatizing than now. but if that's never addressed really, it doesn't make your tolerance automatically raise with age. maybe a "mundane" kind of trauma happened since you were 4, and you couldn't ever find time to recover from it, going through it day to day until you were 7, or 12, or 24... that's still enough! trauma is too individual to judge as "enough" or not.

"my trauma wasn't bad enough i can't be a system"

whenever I hear people say this I always wonder, what metric are you using? your tolerance for how things affect you now as a teenager, or adult?

something that you experienced as a child is going to use a completely different metric! a child's brain is much less developed than an adult's and what they're able to handle is much less. for instance maybe you like horror movies? you probably can watch them without even getting scared! but if you watched the same film at 7 years old it would likely be a lot different!!

you don't need extreme trauma in order to have DID. it just needed to be extreme enough to YOU as a child, that's all. You got bullied at school? that's enough to develop DID! you had a disorder from an early age that made life hard? that's enough to develop DID! your parents were neglectful? that's enough to develop DID!

there's no such thing as gold star DID you don't need to have gone through the worst of the worst. there's no need for trauma olympics, if you have DID you have DID and that's all!

[lieutenantselnia]

Sometimes you just find quotes from historical figures that make you go "yeah, they may not have been particularly the best person ... but the specific thing they point out right there, big mood"

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day five.

Thigh riding (1k words)

summary: Lando is too busy to help you relieve what you are feeling, but he lets you take care of yourself on his thigh.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, needy!reader, bit of mean!lando

It was a quiet day in your shared home, but not the type you enjoyed. You were both home, and today was supposed to be your designated lazy day, given that Lando didn’t have a race coming up this week and you were taking a few vacation days to be with him. 

However, something related to work always dragged Lando into his office; you were just hoping that wouldn’t happen this time. But it did. 

You were in your room, bored out of your mind, trying to find something to entertain yourself with — anything, but nothing would work quite as well as your boyfriend did. After realising you wouldn’t find something on your own, you decided to join him in his office.

When you opened the door and came in, you made sure to be as quiet as possible to not disturb whatever was so important it couldn't wait another day. He was supposedly going over some important emails regarding a new helmet design for one of the upcoming races.

He looks so good when he is focused, you thought, and the fact that he was only wearing a black tanktop and matching shorts didn’t help your growing needy state. 

You knew that what he was doing was important and that some of these things had to be done by midnight so the design could be approved by the sponsors in time, so there is no way he was stopping. You were very aware of that, but you also needed him. 

Lando started feeling a little too cocky as he realised how needy his girlfriend was feeling, so maybe there was something he could do. Maybe not helping you as you were hoping, but a little teasing could be fun. For him, at least.

“Are you okay in there?” He asked after you shuffled on the couch for the millionth time since you got there. 

“Are you almost done?”

“No, baby.”

“But I need you.” You blurted out, not caring how pathetic that sounded. 

“Not now, Y/N. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Please, I’ll be quick.” You begged. 

He didn’t even look at you, and he was trying hard to suppress that smirk that was threatening to appear on his face. Lando maintained his composure and acted like he was considering it, even though that was his plan all along.

“Fine, but you will take care of it.”

“What? I don’t wanna play with myself-”

"You can ride my thigh," he said, interrupting your failed attempt to seduce him. Your heart completely stopped when you heard those words come out of his mouth. 

“What?” You asked, and Lando simply repeated himself.

“I said you can ride my thigh. This is the best you will get, so make up your mind. And no touching, sweetheart.”

You made your way to where Lando was sitting, admiring the way his exposed thighs looked in those shorts. You would have said no and tried to beg for more, for him, but like Lando said, that was the best you were gonna get with how busy he apparently was, so you decided against it.

You slowly sat on his lap, placing your centre on his right thigh. Lando didn't even look at you; he just raised his eyes over your shoulder to keep working on his computer, making it clear to you that he meant it when he said you would take care of it.

Shyly, you started rolling your hips, eyes closed as your mouth let out soft moans every so often, but as the pleasure began increasing, so did your pace. 

Damn, he couldn’t deny how absolutely beautiful you looked riding his thigh, and as much as he tried to block out how needy he was starting to feel, he failed miserably. 

You hands gripped his shoulders for stability, but eventually they slowly travelled down his torso, finding the hem of his shorts. The plan was to slide one of them into his boxers and help him with his hardening cock, but he immediately stopped you, slapping your hands away and placing them back on his shoulders. 

“Stop. No touching, remember? Just take care of yourself.” You nodded and went back to work.

As you continued grinding him, he could feel his thigh covered in your arousal, filthy wet, and slick noises echoing through the small office. You left wet kisses on his neck and shoulders, your lips letting out more and more whimpers when he didn’t stop you as soon as you started devouring his thick neck, moaning even louder when you noticed him swallow hard. 

Lando tried his best to focus on the words in front of him, but having you being a complete mess literally on top of him made it hard, and it made him hard. It took his full strength and self-control to ignore his painful length and not ask you to take care of it like you tried a few minutes ago, but that somehow made it hotter for him.

You were getting close, and the sounds that left your mouth were making less sense, his name slipping out a few times, and just as he knew you were reaching your high, he couldn’t help it anymore, so he dropped everything and gripped your hips, guiding your movements.

“That’s it.” His forehead was damp with sweat, and there were a few strands of hair sticking to it, a single drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Lando’s touch made you feel more electric as he helped you quicken your pace, desperate for a release. “Come on, baby,” He whispered, making you give in.

Your entire body was shaking as your nails dug into the soft skin of his shoulders, gradually stopping as you tried to steady your breath.

“Good job. You can go now,” he said in a serious tone. You struggled to get back on your feet, but as soon as you did, your eyes went straight to Lando’s thigh, glistening in your arousal.

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[pikp0kcas3]

The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

the other five; part 2 [ five hargreeves x reader ]

okayyyy so it’s not my best work and i hope it is not too rushed or cheesy i have my best and i hope i didn’t crush y’all’s expectations 😭😭 writing this i literally gave no shit on the paradox psychosis, it’s also an AU where they did save the world, and not to mention again that everyone, including reader and five are around 32, basically the same age as the rest of the family

hope y’all still like it tho 🥹🥹🥹

part one

“I can’t believe how bad you suck at Scrabble in every single timeline, my love,” Five laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as you threw a wooden piece at him over the table, offended to say the least;

“I can’t believe what a piece of shit you are in every timeline!”

“Oh, she’s also a sore loser in every timeline!”

As you threw yet another wooden piece at the man before you, you couldn’t help but get infected with his contagious laugh and burst into giggles as well. Five was smiling from ear to ear, as he was heavily laughing, with a hand over his chest, as his other one was resting peacefully on top of yours on the table.

You were sitting on the rug, on each side of the coffee table in your living room. It was a peaceful Thursday night, and you didn’t really have anything planned. You worked all day, so you figured that a glass of wine and some chocolate to snack on while watching a movie would be a decent end of the day, but a couple knocks on your door changed that.

It had been a while since you met Five, a couple of weeks maybe. Nothing short of a miracle helped you save the world for good this time, but that’s a story for another time. Things were actually looking up for you, as the Hargreeves siblings were all safe in one piece, as well as your own parents. Viktor was visiting you in the States a lot more often, Allison, Klaus and Claire resumed their day to day lives, Luther was trying to reabilitate the old mansion for good this time and actually own it, Ben and Jennifer were happily together, as Diego and Lila were doing their best to save their marriage for the sake of their three children.

As for Five, last you heard he was still in the CIA, but that was about it.

The Five from your timeline, that was.

The Five standing in front of you, he was an entirely different story.

After he comforted you the day you and Five broke up, you tried to prioritize your interests and went back to help the family stop the apocalypse. In spite of how much you wanted to just lay in his arms until you went completely numb, you knew that if that’s where you were meant to be, you’d find your way back eventually.

And you did.

“Fuck me, that was draining,” You rubbed your face, falling onto the dusty leather couch with a loud thud, next to Allison.

“You’d think we would get the hang of it by now,” She sarcastically said, letting her head fall on your shoulder.

“If there’s a fifth apocalypse, let’s just let it happen,” Klaus suggested, as some of you couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“At least this one wasn’t Viktor’s fault,” Luther pointed out, making Viktor waive his arms;

“Excuse me?”

“I’m swear I’m gonna kill myself,” Ben rolled his eyes bored as ever. On the surface, that was.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” Lila raised her brows at the man.

“Do it later, we literally just saved your sorry ass,” Five pointed out.

“And to think that after all this shit, on Monday I’m back to delivering packages…” Diego deeply sighed, as you all turned to judge him.

The nine of you were standing in the middle of the old mansion, trying to catch your breath after your hardest efforts yet to save the world. It was a mixture of everyone’s powers, a droplet of a miracle and lots of yelling around, but eventually you did it. You could finally breathe again and not worry that tomorrow may not come.

However, it didn’t mean that you weren’t suffering anymore. You tried your everything to keep your composure around the Five from your timeline and Lila, since apparently even Diego was willing to make amends. He loved his brother and his kids far too much, as well as his wife. He was willing to put it all behind, after all, you were given a second chance and he was not going to waste it.

“Am I going crazy or is that another Five?” Klaus pointed towards the main entrance to the living room, as your Five walked in with a slight smile across his lips and his hands in his pockets;

“I wouldn’t have bet my last two cents that you idiots would have actually managed to save the universe.”

“Asshole,” You giggled, getting up to run instantly into his arms.

Five was taken aback by your sudden excitement for a mere second, as he stumbled a step back, but not wasting another second to wrap his arms around your waist. He walked you back from the diner to the train station that would take you back to Five, and eventually back to your timeline a couple hours ago, but if you were to be honest it felt like forever since the last time you saw him. In spite of being literally yet not really the man who crushed your heart that day, you found such an intense comfort in him, it was stupid.

You were still grieving your old relationship, you were still heartbroken over what had happened. Six years with Five on your side were not that easy to get over, but this one truly helped you feel better. He was so thoughtful, so sweet and kind, yet sarcastic and sassy, he was totally your perfect match, which was insane since you thought that your ex-boyfriend of six years would be your soulmate.

“I hate you,” You declared, crossing your arms over your chest, “You have no business making fun of me- you’re like a hundred years old.”

“Don’t- Don’t go there and make it awkward,” Five instantly said, raising his hands in front of you, “You’re making me feel like a pervert.”

“As you should,” You lightly shrugged your shoulders, watching as he rolled his eyes playfully.

The two of you started spending a considerable amount of time together lately, as he managed to make himself comfortable in your timeline. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy, not only because he had lost his own Y/N, but he also hadn’t seen his siblings in such a long time. In his timeline, they didn’t manage to save themselves after Reggie reset the timeline at Hotel Oblivion, so getting his family back in a way was surreal to him as well.

Five felt alive again and it was all because of you.

All because he stumbled upon the love of his life that day in the subway system, the same woman who brought him back to his family. Maybe they weren’t actually the ones from his timeline, but they were his family nonetheless.

“Okay, one more round so I can shut your trash mouth again,” Five declared, straightening his jacket, as he leant over the table to rearrange the board.

“I can think of another way you can shut my trash mouth,” You smirked, leaning forward on the table as well, resting your weight on your elbows.

The two of you took things surprisingly slow. You couldn’t deny the instant connection, after all- you were a couple in every single timeline. But you couldn’t help the need to avoid the rush. Sure, you held hands sometimes and bump your knees under the table, or he would place wild strands of hair behind your ears and you would sometimes fix his tie for him. You also tended to share tight hugs that lasted maybe a second too long, or linger some touched here and there, but you neither of you ever had the courage to bring it up in a discussion.

You had never even kissed.

“My, my, is my little Y/N getting impatient?” Five mimicked your smirk, lightly grabbing your chin between his index and thumb.

One thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t have feelings anymore for your ex-boyfriend. There was no doubt about that. You just didn’t feel it would be wise to jump into another relationship so soon with his doppelgänger, but after these past few weeks you were so done waiting.

If there’s one thing you learned from saving the world one too many times it definitely was that you should not be wasting precious seconds.

“Aren’t you?” You asked, looking into his eyes, trying to figure out where he stood on all this.

“I’d wait for you decades, darling,” Five confessed, running his thumb across your bottom lip in a gentle manner.

He loved the feel of you, every square inch of your body- he couldn’t get enough of it. He would touch anywhere possible, he wanted to pepper kisses along every part of you, but he did mean every word he said. He did want to wait for you for as long as you needed until you were ready to be with him, truly.

“Promise?” You couldn’t help but wonder, as Five let go of your chin to put some fallen strands of hair behind your ears, “Would you actually wait for me?”

“It’s not even up for debate,” He nodded, getting up from the floor, straightening his three piece suit.

He offered you his hands, as he lifted you to your feet as well. You didn’t know exactly if your legs were numb because of how long you’d been sitting crisscrossed on the floor, or simply because the man before you made your knees weak with one smile, but you knew for certain that you never wanted this night to end.

Five cupped your cheeks in his hands, as you naturally rested your hands on his chest. You were so smitten by him, but in all fairness- how could you not be? He was doing everything right, giving you all the love he had and a bit more extra, while still being his true sassy self that you loved so much.

“Kiss me, please,” You whispered, looking into his beautiful eyes, feeling as you were slowly losing yourself into the moment.

Five smiled as he leaned in slowly to give your lips a light peck, as careful and attentive as possible. His long fingers found their way into your hair, as your own arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer. He took that as his cue to go in for a more passionate kiss, capturing your lips with his in just a matter of seconds, losing his whole being in that moment to wrap himself around your pinky finger.

Anything you wanted, he would go through the ends of the world to get it for you- and that was an understatement.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3

Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 

“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 

“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 

“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 

“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 

You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 

“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 

She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 

“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”

It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 

To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 

“Please come home,” Mor begged. 

“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 

“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 

“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”

“What are you talking about?” She questions. 

“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 

“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 

“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 

Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 

“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 

Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”

“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 

“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 

You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 

You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 

“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 

You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 

“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”

“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 

“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”

She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 

You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 

You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 

Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 

No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 

You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 

“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”

“Enjoy.”

“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”

“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”

“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 

Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 

“I can’t come back.”

“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 

“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”

“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 

“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 

Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 

“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 

You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 

“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 

“Y/N-”

“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”

He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”

“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 

The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 

You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 

He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 

You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 

“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 

“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”

The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 

A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 

As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 

Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 

There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”

It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 

“Az,” you cry out softly. 

He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 

“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.

“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 

He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 

He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 

“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 

Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.

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[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + five

authors note: soooo, i both hate and love this one. can't tell if i'm just being super hard on myself, but it feels flat and a bit boring, but i also know if i keep messing with it, i'll never feel wholly satisfied, so here is the best version i could come up with!

it does include more of roman's background though so....there's that at least lmao

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

cw/tw: sexual harassment, language, violence, ptsd episode (dissociation, avoidance, breakdown), torture

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

words: 8k

Solana has come to the realization that training isn’t entirely awful.

Or maybe it’s the fact that along with training, she’s allowed the chance to socialize, to be around other people and learn to not be so nervous all of the time. Naomi is a great person for that, bubbly and naturally personable. She’s created such a welcoming space that has left Solana feeling less and less nervous.

A couple weeks into training, Solana also feels like she’s growing more comfortable in her learning. It’s still the very basics, a lot of focus on flexibility, but it feels good. It feels almost relieving to be able to learn certain skills and tips that she can use to maybe one day defend herself. 

To maybe one day be able to take care of herself.

Or maybe some dreams are just too big to wish for.

It’s the end of her session with Naomi, and Solana is in the women’s locker rooms, having just finished her shower. She’s in her head a bit, mentally going over what she’s going to make Roman for dinner.

He’s been gone more often than not the past couple weeks, and she’s torn on that. On one hand, it’s nice not to be around a man who she’s supposed to be figuring out a way to kill, a man whose presence alone creates an additional layer of anxiety on top of the pre-existing baseline that is her everyday anxiety 

But…..

But, there’s also a part of her that….that wouldn’t be too opposed if he was around more. Being alone in the big house also creates a space of anxiety. If…if he was present more, maybe she could learn how to interact with him.

Could learn him.

It’s this strange thought process that’s so confusing and almost overwhelming for her that it keeps her from noticing the pending danger lurking just steps away.

“Hey, Solana.”

Solana gasps loudly, spinning around, her eyes widening at Austin Theory who stands before her with that same predatory smile. She opens her mouth to scream, but she’s too slow. 

Austin backs her against the lockers and slaps his hand over her mouth. His other hand moves to pin her hands over her hand. Instantly, her heart is beating out her fucking chest, an intense weight of dread anchoring her down. 

Solana feels paralyzed. She is paralyzed. 

“Always so damn jumpy. All we wanna do is get to know you....”

It’s almost perfect timing when another man appears, Grayson. But, it’s when he sees Austin and Solana that he frowns, walking over, “man, what the hell are you doing?”

Austin rolls his eyes, laughing. “Come on, don’t be a little bitch. It’s just a little fun.”

“This isn’t funny, Austin. If Reigns finds out—”

“What the fuck is he gonna do, huh?” Austin scoffs, gaze returning back on Solana who has her eyes clenched shut, tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re not going to say anything to him anyway, are you?” 

Solana gasps, breathing uneven as Austin lowers his hand to tug on the knot of her towel just enough to loosen it but not enough to undo it. Regardless, it’s that one act that truly immobilizes her because she’s no longer standing before this man as a grown woman.

She’s that 12 year old little girl completely unaware of what night of horrors is about to be unleashed on her, the way an unspeakable act of evil perpetrated on an innocent child is going to lead her down a dark, depressing path.

And she’s frozen, frozen in time, forever stuck in that state of suffering. 

Grayson’s eyes fall on Solana, seeing that she’s almost no longer present, dissociating, and that seemingly freaks him out even more. He tugs on Austin’s shoulder. “You had your fun, mate. Let’s fucking go.”

Austin has never been one to listen to others. Ever. But in a testament to his cruelty, Solana’s lack of reaction, lack of struggling and displaying helplessness in front of him wanes the enjoyment. He doesn’t get off as much, doesn’t feel as empowered as he does by making people feel small.

So with a scoff and not an ounce of influence from Grayson in his ear, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk as she instantly moves her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, Mrs. Reigns.” She’s anything but, and it brings a smile to his face. It’s so fucking easy to get her unnerved. “Just messing with ya, that’s all.”

There’s more distant talking, snickering and combatting with someone speaking quietly but urgently. Solana can make out part of that as she gradually returns to a state of awareness. Enough to where she’s eventually cognizant of the fact that they’ve left, that she’s alone, that they no longer pose an immediate threat.

But, they do. They do, because what if they come back?

Chest still tightening, breathing still erratic, Solana rushes over to the door, shaking hands managing to shut it closed and locked. But, it’s not enough to just be alone, to know that no one can come in and try to hurt her. 

Because she still feels it.

Still feels hands on her, restricting her, bounding her, and it makes her sick.

Hand over her mouth, Solana does her best to push back the nausea, rushing over to the showers, turning the knob so that it’s at full strength. 

And heat too.

Shoving the towel off her body, she steps under the scalding water and grabs the soap, immediately scrubbing at her body. It’s unnecessary force, unnecessary heat, unnecessary altogether, but it’s the only thing that gives her a faux sense of comfort. She needs to wash the feeling of them off of her, scrub until her skin starts to look wrinkled and raw, her complexion tinging with redness from the heat of the water.

Eventually, the scrubbing stops feeling like enough. Nothing feels like enough, and she falls back against the wall of the shower, sliding down as she pulls her knees to her chest.

And she cries, the water blending seamlessly with the tears that filter out the drain in a way she wishes the heavy feelings wrecking her body would melt away.

Safe.....

It's a dream that she'll never achieve.

A wasted hope.

A lie.

—-----------

“The RKO proposal is pretty decent.” 

“But not good enough.” Roman’s dismissal is swift and to the point. “I want 75% of all profits.”

Rikishi presses his lips together, calmly reminding, “that’s gonna be a hard sell.” 

“Orton is desperate. He’s an imbecile who uses more products than he moves and is running Bob’s legacy into the ground.” Roman is a man who prides himself on always being on the up and up. He makes it his business to know what’s going on with all competitors and even partnerships. “He should consider my offer fucking mercy. 75% or nothing.”

Rikishi sits back in his chair, a proud smile growing on his face. “I’ve taught you well, Uce”

There’s a modicum of truth to his cousin’s words, but for the most part, Roman has learned more on his own than anything anyone could have ever taught him.

“What’s the status of the imports from Columbia?”

Jey leans forward, answering without pause. “Scheduled to arrive just on time, assuming nothing goes awry.”

“Who’s managing?”

“Tama.”

Roman nods. “It’ll be fine.” His distant cousin, Tama Tonga is a bit on the…��eccentric side, but he’s never failed to see a successful shipment through from beginning to end.

“If…..” Paul’s low but firm voice enters the conversation, Roman’s lazy gaze falling on the man. “If I may, my Tribal Chief?” With the nod of approval from the Head of the Table, Paul clears his throat. “By my calculations, there’s a way for us to improve on the total time it currently takes for us to move product by over 40% with some minor….changes.”

Jimmy, who sits almost bored at the other side of the table, feet propped up, asks in a suspicion tone. “What kind of changes?”

Paul clears his throat. “If we were to have access to the Eastern harbor—”

At that, both Jimmy and Jey land eyes on their cousins head counsel. Jey is the first to speak though. “You know that’s Nightmare territory, correct?”

Paul’s voice is surprisingly calm. “I do.” A nervous set of blue eyes settle on the man who sits at the head of the table, the primary one who needs to be convinced of the possible benefits of what he’s about to suggest. “If we would just consider—”

“No.” Roman’s rejection is loud and echoes throughout the conference room. “How could you even fucking suggest that shit?”

“My Tribal Chief, if you could please hear out my—”

Roman’s fist banging against the table sends an alert to all members of this current meeting that the Tribal Chief word is final and unchanging. “I said…..no.” 

Rikishi shakes his head, thankful that a stern rejection is the extent of his cousin’s reaction. He can’t believe Paul could even be stupid enough to even suggest such a thing to Roman. Perhaps he could be swayed over to see the business and financial benefits, but Roman…..no, that history runs too deep and bleeds too much red for Roman Reigns to ever consider some sort of ceasefire or let alone alliance with The Nightmare Factory. 

“Well, that shit got awkward real fast,” Jey mutters, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Even if it makes all the sense in the world. “How about that marriage life?

Roman shuts his eyes. It’s jumping from one annoying topic to another. “What?”

“Man, Big Dog living good over there,” Jimmy’s smile is wide as he rubs his hands together. “Lil Soso can cook her ass off!”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Speaking of ass, she pregnant yet?”

This is why Roman didn’t want to get on this subject, because he knew where it would lead to, another road he’s not trying to go down right now.

Rikishi chimes in, “their delivery is trash, but the question is still fair. Is there a chance she’s pregnant?” A sly smile falls on his face as he teases, “I know you well enough, Uce, that I don’t need to remind you of the importance of trying.”

Jey snorts. “That ain’t never been a problem for any of us. Especially Roman. Man, I still don’t know how you don’t have a gaggle of lil mean mugging ass kids running around here.”

The answer is simple, and Roman expresses as such. “Because I know how to fucking use a condom unlike you idiots.”

“Hey. I don’t know what you talking about. All my kids by Nicki.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

At that, Jey jumps out the chair, Jimmy rolling his eyes as Paul shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Ayo, you the Tribal Chief and everything, but you not gon’ keep disrespecting my wife like that, aight?”

“Where did you sleep last night, Jey?” Roman’s tone is both bored and knowing, especially as Jey’s gaze drops the same way his ass does right back in his seat. “That’s what I thought.”

“Just…” Rikishi’s voice is louder, allowing him to realign the conversation. “Keep us updated, Roman. When she does get pregnant, you’ll need to up her security.”

“I’m aware.” Just like he’s aware of the fact that unless this girl is the virgin fucking Mary and will have an immaculate conception, there’s no need to worry about that right now.

Or ever. 

His business phone lighting up with a familiar name across the screen is both a welcomed surprise as well as distraction for Roman. Without hesitation, he answers, watching the TV anchored on the wall light up.

Roman’s shoulder straightens as he leans back further into the soft Italian leather of his chair. “Dwayne.”

“Roman.” Dwayne removes the stereotypical dark glasses Roman always grew accustomed to seeing his cousin wear in any interaction. His smile beams. “Long time no fucking see, cousin.”

Roman shrugs, answering honestly, “been busy.” 

“I saw that. Congratulations on the marriage. An invite would have been fucking nice.”

At that, Roman chuckles, calling out his bluff. “Like you would have come.”

Dwayne’s laughter echoes through the office. “Fair.” He then greets the rest of the men present, though it’s a surprise to no one that his initial exchange is solely with Roman. They’ve always had a great bond, even better business partnership, hence the position Roman has placed him in. “You know why I’m calling though”

And there goes the ‘fun’ while it lasted. Straight into business with his big cousin. He respects it immensely though. Dwayne is all about profit and efficiency and ensuring the smoothness of operations. “The same reason you always reach out, cause it’s not that often.”

“It’s been a couple years, cousin….”

“I’m aware.” 

And he is. 

6 years, to be precise. 

“You need to fly out here.” Dwayne isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know, hasn’t already heard. “They need to see your face.”

“They have you.”

Dwayne snorts. “They hate me almost as much as they hate you.” They being that other side of Roman’s family, the side that he could go on with the rest of his life without seeing or speaking to. The side that probably feels the same about him and his Tribal tattoos, long hair, and skin that is not like theirs. 

Yeah….hate is definitely the right word.

“Do you care?”

“Hell no.” The answer is surprising, unlike Dwayne’s next statement. “But, I do care when shit starts to get more openly disrespectful.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re becoming bolder with questioning your leadership. Less subtle. More direct.”

At that, Roman’s attention is fully captured. He sits up in his seat. “Is that so?”

The twins, Rikishi, and Paul all exchange knowing glances, having been wisely quiet to allow the Head of the Table to conduct business as he sees fit. But this, they all know where this is going.

“Maybe it is time I remind them who the fuck is in charge here.” As much as Roman loathes the idea of having to be around and interact with these fuckers, nothing vexes him more than having his authority challenged. 

Like he’s not the one, the two, and the three they’ve been looking for. 

“I’ll see about flying out within the next week.” 

Jey speaks up for the first time. “I can’t just leave on that short notice—”

“Did I say I needed you to come with me?” It’s a bit of a rhetorical question. “I can handle this on my own.”

As is his preference with most things, because in Roman’s opinion, most things are handled better and in the way that most pleases him when he does it himself. His expectations can only be set and maintained or exceeded by him.

“At least take Paul with you, Uce.” Rikishi suggests, and in the moment, it’s last thing he wants. Paul’s already pissed him off enough for the day. “They need to be straightened out, not taken out. Paul can help you keep that balance.”

Roman isn’t obstinate enough to disagree with that. Paul does have his uses, one of which being his ability to talk Roman down when the preference is to just kill motherfuckers the second he deems them annoying. 

And that’s not the goal for this trip.

Not yet, anyway.

“Fine. Wise Man and I will go.” There are far too many other things on Roman’s plate for him to push back on a plus one. This is immaterial to the larger picture. “Dwayne, start the preparations.”

“You got it, brotha’. I’ll keep in touch.” 

The screen goes dark as Dwayne ends the call. Roman reclines back in his chair, a mixture of muddy, dark, bleak emotions. The idea of having to be around his maternal family is quite literally sickening to him. He hates those sons of bitches almost as much as they hate and despise him.

But on another hand, the idea of getting away from all this, from this Solana dilemma, there could be some benefits. He’d be gone for a couple of weeks, perhaps even a month. Maybe in that space he’ll come back to a different kind of woman. A woman who knows how to fucking stand up for herself instead of being so scared all the time.

And as if reading his cousin’s mind, Jimmy breaks the silence, asking, “Ayo, Roman, you sure you should be leaving—”

A knock on the door seems to only exacerbate the tension as Roman snaps. “What?”

Alicia, his secretary, easy on the eyes and effective in what she does, opens the door just enough to stick her head through. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Reigns—”

“So why are you?” It’s well known that Roman is a man who hates interruptions, especially when he’s in the middle of a briefing meeting, and she knows this well. Might be time for a new secretary.

Alicia swallows and calmly explains, “your cousin, Nia, is on line one. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”

“She can wait.”

“With….all due respect, sir, it sounds like an emergency. She’s been blowing up the lines all morning.”

Curious, Roman turns his personal phone over and sees his lock screen littered with missed calls, texts, and a voicemail all from one person. 

Nia. 

With a heavy sigh, Roman dismisses Alicia. “I’ll handle it.”

Quietly, she closes the door and he unlocks his phone to return the call. Nia never makes such an effort to get in contact with him. Some shit must have went down, though his mind still wonders what level of bullshit could have occurred that even she can’t handle. 

Phone laid on the table, he dials and places it on speaker.

“It’s about fucking time, you asshole!” Her introduction is unsurprising. “I’ve been trying to call you for almost an hour.”

Roman is already tempted to hang up the phone and block her until further notice. “What do you want, Nia?”

“You need to get down here now.” He’s still not hearing anything that would warrant him moving an inch. “Your fucking Princess Peach wife—”

But at that, Roman’s interest is piqued. He sits forward in his chair. “What about her?” 

“I don’t know, she had a mental breakdown or something and has locked herself in the locker rooms. We can’t get her to come out—”

Right away, Roman gets to blaming and accusing. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Nia can’t respond before he asks the next important question. “Where the fuck was Solo!”

“I didn’t do anything, Roman! And Solo can’t be with her in the fucking women’s locker room!” Nia’s defense is as sharp as his imputation. “I told you that girl isn’t made for this life. She’s a fucking problem! Come get her now, or I’m going to blow the damn doors off myself.”

Highly vexed with Nia’s smart ass mouth as well as the nature of the situation, Roman slams his finger on the end button and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Fucking hell.”

Jey, just as confused as everyone else, decides to be the sacrificial lamb, asking, “Roman, what was that—”

“You two come with me. Wise Man. Rikishi. Finish and send out the response to Orton’s proposal.” Roman issues out indisputable commands as he marches out of the room, the twins not hesitating to hop up and follow suit. Confused or not, they know better than to question their cousin when he’s in one of these moods.

They don’t even say anything for the beginning portion of the ride to the Warehouse, a rarity for them considering they always have something to say. But this time, they wait for Roman to break the silence, and he eventually does, still just as angry. 

“I don’t have time to be dealing with this shit!” To say Roman is pissed would be an understatement. He’s livid. For a lot of different reasons, really, maybe even mostly at the fact that his head counsel had the unmitigated gall to even utter Rhodes name around him.

Roman would see the entire empire go up in smoke and flames before he’d ever agree to any sort of alliance with that son of a bitch.

That only adds on top of the fact that the Italian faction of his empire seems to be questioning his ability to lead, as if the data doesn’t clearly support that business has never been better. The cash flow is endless. Numbers don’t lie.

But, Roman knows the real reason for their insubordination. 

It’s because of his father, the Samoan blood that runs through his veins. His being afakasi. Mixed. They believe that following that night, the alliance between the Bloodline and the Guild, an alliance sealed by the marriage of his father and mother, should have been dissolved. That someone from his mother’s side, a full blooded Italian, should sit on that metaphorical throne.

But, that’s not the case.

Roman assumed power because it is his by birthright, and he’ll be damned if he lets some ignorant fucks try to take it from him.

So yes….there are a lot of different reasons for his anger.

But, it’s a lot easier to blame it on the reason he’s in an SUV now, heading to a place he didn’t even plan to attend today.

“I’m not going to keep dealing with this shit with her.” He’s not even entirely sure who he’s speaking to at this point, or if he’s directing his statements to anyone in particular. Just needing to vent and get it out.

“What do you mean keep dealing?” Jimmy is the first to pick up on his cousin’s wording. “Something like this happen before?” 

The twins look between each other and then back at Roman who runs his hand over his face, realizing that if there’s anyone he can trust to keep this between them, it’s the twins. Annoying and sometimes dimwitted, they’re notoriously loyal and can sometimes provide sage advice.

“She had a complete meltdown on the wedding night. Panic attack, wouldn’t stop crying.” Roman conveniently leaves out the part of him talking her down from a panic attack. They don’t need to know that. 

No one needs to know that.

“After ya’ll….”

“No.” He answers, honestly. “We didn’t even do it. She was too hysterical.”

“Wait a minute.” It doesn’t surprise Roman that Jimmy is the first to put two and two together. “So you ain’t even fucked her yet? But you said—”

“I know what I said.” He doesn’t need to be reminded of anything. Roman’s memory is long and sharp. “I also know what I do and don’t feel like dealing with right now.”

“Uce, the only reason you even married this girl was so that she could give you an heir. How the hell is that supposed to happen if she won’t even let you touch her?” As much as Roman wants to snap at his cousins, he can’t. He can’t because they’re right. It’s something he’s thought about on and off since the wedding night.

It’s painfully evident to him that Solana’s mental state is….fragile, to stay the least.

He doesn’t need fragility.

He doesn’t do fragility.

The same way he apparently can’t do her.

“Maybe you need to just annul the shit and cut your losses while it’s still early.” Jey suggests, and Roman can’t deny the idea has a level of appeal to it. Until the next part leaves his cousin’s mouth. “Send her back to her family.”

“No.” That’s an easy no. He’s not entirely opposed to the idea of annulment, but what’s not an option is sending her back to that house of horrors. The only way he can see himself doing that is if he’s put a bullet in both her brother and father’s head, which technically, is the plan anyway.

He would just be making some…..timeline adjustments.

“I won’t send her back there. That’s a death wish.”

Maybe set her up with some money and a house. Let her live out her days with her damn writing, reading, and cooking, the only three things she seems capable of doing without fear. But even thinking that, Roman wonders just how capable she is of living on her own.

Xavier kept the girl so damn sheltered. He’d have to keep a security detail on her at all times. Maybe keep Solo with her. She seems to have grown somewhat comfortable with him. 

The same with Naomi.

Or, so he thought. People who are moving in the right direction don’t lock themselves in public fucking locker rooms.

Jimmy also points out, validly, “well, you obviously can’t keep her around if she literally can’t do the one job she has.”

“Let’s not be irrational, alright?” Jey, in a twist of faith, tries to be the voice of reason. “That girl can cook.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.” Sure enough, he switches his tune. “Man, Soso ain’t even that bad, uce. You just gotta be patient with her.”

The change of tune doesn’t surprise Roman, but his suggestion is almost comical. If not for the fact that he’s already in a sour ass mood. “Do I look like a patient man?”

“No, but you do look like a man who could benefit from learning how to be patient,” Jimmy’s rebuff is quick and sharp. “That’s why you and Jey on high blood pressure medication right now. Both ya’ll hotheaded asses be getting yourselves all upset over nothing. Probably why you’re going gray too.”

There may be some element of truth to what he’s saying, but it’s also irrelevant to the issue at hand.

“I’ll figure something out,” he mutters, and it’s the truth, because that’s what Roman does. He figures shit out. 

He always figures shit out.

The SUV is barely parked when Roman flings the door open, slamming it shut behind him, not knowing exactly what he’s about to walk into.

“What happened?” Roman’s demand is accompanied by his powerful stride into the Warehouse, Nia immediately rolling her eyes and pointing to Naomi.

“Ask her. She was the last one to interact with her.”

Naomi is unsurprised by both Nia throwing her under the bus as well as Roman directing his fury in her direction.

“What the fuck happened?”

As someone who’s been involved with the Bloodline and their family members for over a decade, she’s used to both Roman’s anger as well as being on the receiving end of said anger. So, her response is calm and to the point. “Like I told Nia, we trained, and she was fine. She actually did well today. I had another training session after her, so we agreed on the next date, and she left for the locker rooms. That’s it.”

Naomi’s answer is unhelpful, but he believes her. Knows she’s being honest. It’s just that her honesty doesn’t do shit for him.

“Clear the place.” It’s directed to Nia even if his focus is still on Naomi.

Nia steps forward, irritation undeniable. “Roman, seriously? We have matches lined up—”

“I don’t care. I want it cleared now, Nia.” She’s about to protest again, but he lifts his hand, warning, “I’m not in the mood, so don’t fucking test me.” 

Nia isn’t stupid. She might be able to teeter the lines some days with her cousin, but this clearly isn’t one of those days. Grumbled protests stay within the confines of her inner dialogue as she turns on the edge of her heel to start emptying the Warehouse.

The twins step forward, asking, “what you need us to do?”

Nothing. He doesn’t want anyone to do anything aside from leaving him the hell alone, but that’s not an option. So, he moves quick to find a task for them. Naomi as well. “Check the cameras. Something happened, and I want to know what.”

“What if—”

“Check the cameras.” At this point, Roman’s about to kick them all out if people keep questioning him like he isn’t the fucking Tribal Chief. 

Control has always been a big thing for Roman.

When one doesn’t have much, or any, as a child, they overcompensate, and then some, as an adult.

He recognizes that fully. 

As all parties move to follow through on his orders, Roman heads toward the locker rooms, ignoring the complaining of the gym goers having to prematurely leave against their own volition. He’s not focused on that, just on the panel near the doors, a panel he’s never had to use until this day.

A panel only he can operate and use as its his biometrics and only his. Again, a man who likes control.

It takes less than a minute for him to gain access, the door automatically opening. Roman steps in and closes it behind him. 

“Solana.” He’s certain she won’t answer him, won’t magically do a 180 and feel well enough to step out, but he does feel like at least making his presence known to her will minimize her fear and surprise. 

Because one of the first things he notices and hones in on is sound, listening for any and all sounds that could lead him in her direction, and it’s a bit on the easy side considering there’s only the sound of running water coming from one area. And if he had to guess, one specific shower stall. 

Carefully, his steps take him from one end of the room to the other, moving in the direction of the woman he needs to find.

And he does find her. 

He finds her sitting on the floor of the shower, naked, enclosed in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest, staring like she’s in a state of shock, like she’s not aware of where she is or what she’s doing. Like she’s not aware of the heat of the water bearing down on her body.

“What the hell?” Roman’s first reaction is a modicum of shock, the heat from the steam alone almost instantly suffocating him. Naturally, he moves toward her, to cut it off, but her scream of terror stops him prematurely. 

“No!” It’s been a while since Roman has heard that level and depth of fear in someone’s voice, in the hefty depth of their sorrow. She’s petrified. “P–please don’t.”

It’s for that he actually hesitates, doing his best not to shout at her because that’s clearly the last thing she needs. “Solana, I’m not gonna fucking touch you, but you’re burning yourself!”

While he does his best to keep his eyes focused on non–inappropriate areas, he can already see the reddening of her arms and back. If she already hasn’t burned herself.

Again, he tries to reason with her, which is such a strange experience. Roman doesn’t negotiate with people. He does whatever the fuck he wants and cuts down anyone who has something to say about it. But this, this is a completely different experience he’s not entirely sure he knows how to navigate in a way that won’t fuck this girl up even more than she already is. 

“I’m just going to shut the water off.” Announcing his intentions seems like the next best thing, even if it seems to do little to calm her. So, he bites the bullet and moves fast enough to where she can’t protest until it’s already done.

Which is exactly what happens. 

“No! I—I need—I need to get clean. I need—” She starts crying again, hugging her legs closer to her body. “I can still feel—their hands—”

“Did someone touch you?” Interrupting her isn’t a good idea, especially with the way anger naturally floats into his tone. It’s almost impossible for it not to. If someone fucking touched her….“ Solana….what happened?”

She gasps, shaking her head, pleading almost. “Please….please don’t m–make me t–t–talk about it.”

There’s a distant look in her eyes, one that’s both uncomfortably but extremely familiar to Roman. He knows what it looks like for someone to be physically present but mentally elsewhere. That’s what Solana is right now. 

She’s not talking about today but something else, something much darker that whatever happened today only triggered. 

Roman slowly starts to crouch down in front of her but she jerks back. “I’m not going to touch you, Solana,” he again reiterates. “But you can’t stay in here.” He starts to remove his jacket, reaching it over to her. “We have to go back to the house.”

Again, she’s panicking, protesting. “I can’t—I can’t go out t–t–there.”

“I had the place cleared,” he explains. “There’s no one out there except for the twins, Naomi, and Nia.” Truthfully, he’s starting to wonder if he should have asked them to leave too. He didn’t know she'd be this frazzled. 

“Come on," he encourages.

Eventually, she accepts his jacket, and Roman stands back up to his full height, turning around and allowing her the privacy he’s sure she’d want. She steps forward, Roman seeing she’s hugging herself keeping his jacket covering her body. 

She keeps her head down, obviously still shaken up, still messed up from a lot of things. He honestly doesn’t know where the trauma stops and ends with this girl.

Roman directs her. “Get dressed. Meet me outside.” He looks down at her, needing some level of acknowledgement. “Okay?”

Solana surprises him by glancing up, nodding softly, walking away to what he would guess is the locker where her clothes are. 

Pleased that she’s at least well enough to be left alone to follow through on a simple task, Roman exits the locker room. He approaches the desk, the twins immediately standing up. It’s not lost upon him that Naomi and Nia are nowhere to be seen. If he had to guess, Jimmy sent Naomi home, not wanting her to bear anymore of Roman’s wrath. And Nia left to avoid unleashing her wrath on Roman, neither of which he’s entirely upset about. 

He has no interest in seeing either of them right now.

Jimmy speaks first. “We found something.”

“Send it to me.” Roman is smart. Always has been. It’s not difficult for him to connect the dots to see that someone clearly fucked with Solana. And he’s almost certain whatever footage the twins found will confirm and show exactly how she was fucked with. The same way he’s entirely certain that managing his anger seeing as such is damn near if not wholly impossible.

And she doesn’t need that right now. She’s already a hot mess. Being exposed to his explosive temper will only exacerbate that, so being sent the footage for him to view when he’s alone and can respond as violently as he wants is the best route.

Especially with his next order.

“Whoever it is, bring em’ to Asylum.” He adds, as if it needs to be specified. “Tonight.” 

Jey nods, and Roman notices there’s an edge to his voice. The same way there’s an edge in Jimmy’s expression. They seem pissed. “You got it.” And for some reason, Roman has a burning guess that it has to do with whatever they found rather than it being directed toward him. 

Waiting for Solana to exit the locker rooms, Roman blows out a deep breath and scratches his beard. This day has been a shitshow for a variety of reasons, but this reason in particular, this thing with Solana, it ranks pretty high up there.

He hasn’t a clue what he’s doing to do with this girl. 

“Jimmy.”

“Whassup?”

“Text Paul. Tell him I want Solana’s medical records. All of them.”

Roman knows now he needs answers, specific answers regarding exactly what he’s dealing with. And Solana is clearly in no position to share these things with him, not that he’d even want her to. 

She’d probably have to be admitted somewhere if he tried that shit. 

Jimmy looks understandably confused but affirms, “I gotchu.”

And with that, Roman also pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, selecting the thread and typing out a message he doesn’t really think twice about.

Roman: Dwayne. Change of plans. I’ll come when I can, but now’s not a good time. I have shit here I need to handle first.

Roman: In the meantime, take my name out their fucking mouths. 

————

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And just like that, Solana knows that he knows what happened. Knows about Austin and Grayson.

And it turns her stomach. 

Roman took her back to the house. He left her alone, giving her time and space to come down from her breakdown. And even in sitting in her room, writing out her feelings about the day's events, she knew. Solana knew that it wasn’t that simple. That Roman wouldn’t just leave what happened today at that.

That he’d want to know what happened, what triggered it, but naively, she tried to convince herself he’s too busy of a man to deep dive and find out on his own. To push her for answers. 

She’s wrong.

She’s wrong because that’s the first thing to leave his mouth when he finds her in the kitchen. 

Roman’s question, however, is valid and understandable, even if just the thought alone of having this conversation makes Solana physically uncomfortable.

Still, given everything that’s happened today, she can’t blame him for wanting answers.

She just doesn’t have them to give.

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” His tone is full of mockery and frustration that she also can’t blame him for but physically finds herself feeling unsettled. “Bullshit. I want an answer, Solana.”

Her skin feels hot, stomach starting to knot. “I just—I don’t—”

“I can’t handle problems you have if you don’t fucking tell me that you have a problem in the first place.”

“I’m sorry—”

At that, Roman snaps, unintentionally, but also a build-up from all of the day’s events. “Stop fucking apologizing!”

What he doesn’t expect is for her to jump back away from him, so much so that she falls to the floor and hurriedly moves back against the cabinet, as she shouts in a panic, “I’m sorry!” Her arms are crossed in front of her body, a defensive position, like she’s waiting, bracing.

Waiting for him to hit her.

Roman’s been in this position countless times. Standing before people as they begged for mercy, begged for him to not enact his vengeance, to rule out his judgment as judge, juror, and executioner. And it’s always been a thrill for him, a boost to his ego, a reminder of his power.

And not once has he ever felt bad for causing such a reaction.

Not until this moment. 

With slow, careful movements, Roman also moves to the floor, one leg outstretched, the other hiked so his foot is planted on the ground. His arm casually resting on his knee. “Solana….do you remember what I said to you that day at your job?”

She's still waiting for the inevitable, waiting for him to lash out, for him to hit her. But, she’s confused by the fact that instead of him doing so just yet, he's sitting on the floor opposite of her. And somehow, she finds it in her to focus on his question. He said a couple of noteworthy things that day, but somehow, she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“My…..my clumsiness.” Clumsiness he told her she wouldn’t have to worry about, but she’s been more than worried about it, more waiting for it, expecting it at some point or another. 

“And I meant that shit.” His head is leaned back against the cabinet, and Solana suddenly feels even worse. He seems so stressed out from all of this, from her. “You’re my wife now. I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you. Not your dad. Not your brother. Not fucking Theory and Waller.” There’s a bit of a pause as he adds, almost quietly, “and especially not me.” 

Solana is unsure what to make of what he’s saying to her. Not sure how to process and take it at face value. It’s hard for her to digest the fact that one of the most dangerous and violent men in the country wants her to believe that he’d never put his hands on her. That he’s not someone she needs to be scared of. 

And she doesn't understand it, can’t comprehend how he can not be like every other man in her life. “W–why?”

“Cause unlike your piece of shit family, The Bloodline has morals. I’m not a good man, Solana, and I don’t pretend to be. But, I’ve never hit a woman, and I never will.” Roman never pictured himself having to explain to a woman why he has no desire to beat her. Yet, here he fucking is. “Real men don’t do that shit.”

Solana doesn’t know what to say to that, is still not sure what to say to any of it. But then, Roman is speaking again.

“It’s no secret. I have a temper, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going to change. Not for you, not for anyone.” Solana knows this, knows this very well, and understands it just as much. She would never expect him to change his ways, especially for the likes of her. “But, I—I’ll try to be mindful of it around you.” 

That…..throws her for a loop. Why? Why would he do anything for her? What has she done to make him even feel like he should? Except stress him out and cause him unnecessary problems.

Roman continues, asserting, “but, you’ve gotta start fucking telling me shit. I need you to meet me halfway here. I need you to communicate with me. You can’t spend the rest of your life writing what you refuse to say out loud.” 

She licks her lip, a nervous action, replying as best she can, “I’m not—I’m not used to—” She’s not used to people caring about her, caring about her wellbeing, and maybe that’s too strong and too inaccurate to describe what Roman is saying. It’s certainly how it feels though. “I—I’ll try.”

He seems pleased by this, probably not fully satisfied but enough for him to drop the subject. And she appreciates that, and is thankful for it. This day has already been a lot, too much. She’s so fucking tired. 

Roman says nothing else, not that she needs him to, not that he needs to. But, as he stands up, turning to leave, she finds herself asking him, “where—where are you going?”

His answer is simple but ominous. “I told you. No one lays a hand on you.” He grabs his jacket off the sofa, sliding it on as he vows, “I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

—-------

Asylums, historically, have been places of horror. Where the lives of so many end in cruel and undeserved ways. Screams and pleas falling on deaf ears, memories of terror forever etched in the walls and halls of a building that’s only seen suffering.

It’s a fitting name for Roman’s location for interrogation. 

Torture. Because there is no being interrogated by the Tribal Chief. It’s just straight up, unadulterated torture. And truth be told, it’s a bit of a last, or maybe second resort. Killing someone in the moment is much easier, preferred. A shot to the head, a knife across the throat, even the snap of a neck. All much easier than methodical, drawn out ending of lives.

But some instances, some circumstances call for something more, something sinister, something lasting.

And that’s exactly what Theory and Waller are going to get.

By the time Roman walks into the building, sliding and tossing his jacket to the side, the twins have done a decent job roughing them up. One of them—he could never tell the difference—nor did he care or will it matter in a few hours, has a black eye that’s swollen shut. The other’s nose is crooked and bleeding, most likely broken. Their clothes are already stained with sweat, blood, and dirt. 

They’re both tied down by their wrists and ankles that he can see have started to dig into their skin. Their chairs are situated opposite each other. Good. That’ll make this even better. Calmly, Roman walks over, snapping his finger as Jimmy and Jey step back, visibly pleased with their warm up. 

He crouches down between them, looking back and forth between both with a smirk. “Gentleman, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” One of them, the taller of the two looks scared shitless while the other is glaring with idiotic defiance. Like he clearly thinks he and his friend are going to leave this building alive. 

They’ll leave.

Just in pieces.

“I’m Roman.” His voice is slick ice. “Roman Reigns.” There’s a rush of adrenaline that soars through Roman’s big body seeing the fear flash in both sets of irises. Good. They should be fucking terrified. “But, I do know someone you have met.” His voice goes cold again. “My wife.”

“Actually, I saw you meet my wife, but you didn’t just meet her, did you?” Roman smiles, shaking his head. “Naw man….ya’ll did a hell of a lot more than that.” 

Roman doesn’t need to have footage of just what happened in that locker room. He can paint the image all on his own, and it’s an image that makes his blood go cold. The footage of them in the hallway was damning enough. “You cornered her, didn’t you? You waited until she was alone and vulnerable and you harassed her. You sexually harassed her. My wife.” 

Roman shrugs, looking between the two. “What ya’ll think should happen?” Their mumbled and grumbled voices are incoherent against the gags in their mouths. Laughing quietly, he continues, “now, now, I’m a fair Tribal Chief.” Roman stands up, walking over to the wall of tools and weapons laid out. He settles for the hunting knife. “So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna let you tell me which body part goes first.”

He motions for the twins to remove their gags and upon that removal, the defiant punk is the first to speak, “what the fuck is wrong with you!”

The other one, however, is damn near in tears. “Pl—please. We–we’re sorry.”

“Shut up, Grayson! He–he’s bluffing.” Theory, he thinks, decides to prolong his torture even longer by reiterateing, “we didn’t even fucking touch her. The bitch is ly—”

Roman sees red, again, most likely a buildup of the day's events. But, it’s pure rage that fills him as he slams the Buck 119 down against Theory’s left hand, cleanly slicing off four of his fingers. 

Theory’s screams fill the room as the twins chuckle, Jey taunting, “who’s the bitch now, huh?”

Roman grabs his chin, vowing, “I’m gonna make you suffer the longest.”

“We didn’t hurt her, I swear.” Grayson is now crying, clearly ready to beg, plead, and whatever else it takes to get him out of this hell. “Austin just—he had her up against the locker, he–he pinned her, but we didn’t rape her. I swear!”

Grayson unintentionally paints a picture in Roman’s head of what he already figured is what happened, what he figured is what sent Solana into her traumatized state.

Big mistake.

Roman brings the knife down on both of Grayson’s thighs, intentionally aiming for near the top of his knees, his quadriceps, effectively rendering him permanently paralyzed. His screams of pain are music to Roman’s ears. Roman grabs him by his jaw, screaming, “who the fuck do you think you are! She’s mine! You hurt her and think I’m not gon break every bone in your fucking body? You don’t ever fuckin touch what’s mine! You understand me!”

The younger man is practically hysterical at this point. “Please….” Roman looks down, hit with the stench of urine, seeing that the one with the accent has pissed himself. Disgusted, he backs away, hitting the pathetic son of a bitch with a blow across his cheek that sends teeth flying out his mouth.

He turns back around, eyes focused on a now teary eyed Theory. “I was going to be fair, let you decide in which order I dismember you, but now…now I’m just gonna make you watch as I kill you both, piece by fucking piece."

He looks over at his cousins who seem completely unaffected and almost indifferent to the gruesome scene unfolding before them. “Jimmy.” Roman doesn’t hesitate, a sadistic smile on his handsome face. “Give me the saw.”

—------

Blood is such a pain in the ass to get out of almost everything. 

Roman showered a good twenty minutes before leaving the Asylum, and he can still see specks of dried blood, or maybe it’s bone, or flesh. 

There’s a sense of satisfaction that fills him though, that almost calms him as he imagines the look of pure terror and fright on their faces as he methodically took their lives, piece by piece. Well fucking deserved in Roman’s opinion.

And he’d do it all over again if he could.

Minus the blood and guts and shit, because that's just fucking annoying. Roman readies to take another shower, hitting the light switch near his bedroom door when he immediately notices the brown journal sitting in the middle of the bed.

There’s a second to pause and another second for him to realize he’s seen a similar book before. Solana. He’s seen her writing in one very close to the one on his bed. 

Less apprehensive, Roman walks over to see it’s open to a page filled with neat writing he knows must belong to Solana.

Lifting it, he reads what she’s written.

Roman,

I know you don’t want me saying sorry anymore, and I know you want me to talk to you, but it’s really hard for me. I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to talk to you. 

And I know you said I can’t write, but writing has always been the only way I can express myself, so I will try to talk to you more, but….until then, can I just write?

Solana

Right off the bat, Roman’s first and initial response is no.

Because why the fuck would he write like something out of a damn movie when she could just fucking talk to him?

But, that’s the thing, that’s exactly what she’s trying to express to him, that she can’t, that it’s too hard for her. Right now, at least. Because there’s also a promise, a promise to try to transition to more verbal communication, Roman’s preference.

Granted, he hates talking to most people in general, but it’s preferred over writing damn letters like the 1700s.

And then he thinks about it, recalling earlier today and the pure terror in her voice, the fear wracking her body so much so that she didn’t even realize she was this close to third degree burns. He has to be realistic here, realistic about what she is and isn’t capable of.

As frustratingly slow as it is, she is trying, in her own way. He can’t fault her for that.

Regardless of how he feels about it, this is the best she can do. For now. And he’ll hold her to working towards that, because growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. She has to get used to being uncomfortable with new things. That’s just how it is.

But this….he can meet her halfway.

Grabbing a pen out his nightstand, Roman writes out his response, taking and laying it out on the kitchen island for her to see first thing in the morning.

Solana,

I recognize communication is challenging for you. If this is what works for you, I’ll do it. For now.

Do you work this weekend? If so, call off. 

I’m taking you somewhere.

Also, there's nothing you can't tell me.

I promise you that.

Roman

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

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A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy. Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

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SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state,  he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face.  His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

[anemonelovesfiction]

20~ Age Gap

So’lek x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: P! In V!, fingering, unprotected sex

Part two to this

Not proofread

MDNI 🔞

It’s the last day of Heatwave In Pandora and I’m saddened by this but also excited for having been a part of all of this with y’all. Thank you so much for those who participated and enjoyed my stories as well!

Word count: 2.2k

To say I was embarrassed about what happened during just before the comet’s raining across the sky was an understatement, I had been completely mortified of the situation, I’d basically masturbated in front of So’lek, and I think he did too? But the fact that I had been caught talking in my sleep- like I do most nights- had been too much for me to attempt to show my face around him again. I’d practically grown to avoiding him during any situation possible.

He’d attempted at steering my mind in the opposite direction that night by helping me draw giant penises on my coworkers masks, making sure each of them had a different kind of drawing on it. And the comets also helped for the time being, each of them pretty much being wished upon as they flew past us in a beautiful shimmer.

But another reason I had to learn to avoid So’lek was his age. He was in his forties and I was only twenty two, I was undeniably too young for him- and not even the same species. That was a considerable age gap and I’m sure the reason he doesn’t have a mate is because everyone in his clan had perished, but had any woman from his clan caught his eye, I’m sure he would have been mated with children by now and I’m certain he doesn’t even tolerate me to begin with- I’m human!

I’d been avoiding having to come into contact with him, strategically avoiding all of the areas he frequents, ensuring that I had something to do far from our base whenever they had their meetings -or went up or down on a different level when it was raining- and when all else failed and he was near I either ignored him or found a way to push someone else into his direction to hold a conversation with him. It was pretty easy considering Priya was a chatter box, she often went off on tangents, and did very well at allowing me the perfect amount of time to escape.

But today was a different day. Priya had gone on a patrol with Anqa while all of the Sarentu were busy doing some kind of training quest without So’lek, and here I was trying to look into a way I could quickly disappear while being in his sight, finding it futile to find a hiding spot and not being able to find a single one I give high hopes that Eywa is listening to my prayer that he wouldn’t need anything from me only to be proven wrong.

“You and I need to talk.” He stated as he stands directly in front of me, arms crossed and his hip tilted to the side, he looked so babygirl, but I couldn’t even think to laugh at a time like this. I could feel the adrenaline starting to course through my bloodstream and I felt jittery.

“In private.” He adds after having looked around before staring right at me. I could only gulp and nod at this moment wondering why the great mother would betray me at my most vulnerable moment, I can see So’lek turn around and motion with his head for me to follow him, and like a lost puppy with my head hung down in defeat, I do.

It hadn’t taken us long to reach the fourth floor which housed all of our rooms. I’d ended up spacing out long enough to pass him before looking up and realizing he was behind me, turning to face him and realizing I’d cornered myself between a wall and his body. Damnit.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks without beating around the bush and I start to think of a million excuses in my head, opening my mouth to spew whatever first bullshit lie could come out, closing it as he speaks again.

“Don’t lie to me.” He states as he crosses his arms waiting for my answer and I couldn’t help but chew on my bottom lip.

“I was embarrassed.” I admit and cross my own arms to try to shrink into the wall, my room was just around the corner and if I bolted I think I could make it, but I looked down instead.

“Why?” His voice is deep and holds me captive as I stand there looking like an idiot and shrug.

“If you have forgotten already I joined in too. You saw the evidence on the ground.” He speaks so steadily that I’m tempted to look up past my lashes but refrain from doing just that.

“Thats not it- well mostly- but not all of it.” I pull myself closer together and pray to Eywa that I could disappear at this moment to walk away from the conversation but feel his finger underneath my chin, lifting it up and forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks once more and I couldn’t stop the shiver from running down my spine.

“I know you won’t reciprocate my feelings, I’m too young for you, and I’m not Na’Vi.” I stated honestly and want to look away but can’t find it in myself to do so, only for him to throw his head back with a chuckle, I could feel the embarrassment creep up on me once more and anger from him laughing at me.

“Whats so funny?” I asked with a huff, wanting to hit him on the arm for laughing at me.

“I do not care that you are tawtute nor your age. You are old enough to make decisions for yourself and you can choose if you want me or not, that is what matters to me.” He responds and seems genuine for his answer and it causes me to freeze.

“What are you saying?” I asked as the confusion was settling over my features, brows lifted and furrowed together, eyes searching his for clarification.

“Must I show you?” He asks simply and I’m still confused.

_________

He sits me onto my own bed as he kneel’s before me, being taller than me even if I’d been standing, he cranes his neck down and captured my mouth with his, his hands on my hips as he slowly shimmies my pants and underwear off in one go, tossing it off elsewhere without breaking the kiss. His hands returning toward my thighs as he squeezes them gently, his tongue inserted into my mouth as soon as I gasp, my own moan following after.

Our tongues don’t battle for dominance as I knew he’d win, his massaging mine as our lips toss and turn for him to do whatever he wanted to me, I didn’t even know how wet I’d gotten until he’d inserted a finger into my cunt and it slid right in. Another moan slipping through my lips as I lean my body back for him to get a better angle, finally breaking the kiss.

“So’lek~” I moaned right as he inserts a second finger easily, I’d thrown my head back at some point, lifting it back up to see him looking right at me with a smirk.

“Wipe that smirk off your- f-f-fuck,” I cuss as he moves his fingers swiftly in, caressing my sweet spot the entire time he’d gone in, my head lolling back and eyes closing as I attempt to focus on the pleasure.

“Lay back.” He instructs and I listen, laying my body back onto the bed while my legs dangled off the bed as did the bottom half of my ass, but I didn’t care at this point as the pleasure was too good.

“Lift your legs up and don’t let them touch the ground.” He stated again, I lifted my legs and settled the hells on the edge of the mattress, feeling his breath on my cunt and constricting myself around his fingers, a dark chuckle rasping through, driving me absolutely wild. His tongue takes a swipe up my cunt and I couldn’t help but gasp followed by a moan as he thrusts his fingers back in.

“Fuck, please go faster-“ I struggled to get out as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, kissing my sweet spot periodically and making me thrash my head around the bed, surely adding knots to my already messy hair.

“I want to make you cum.” He mutters before placing his lips around my clit and giving a harsh suck, my hips jumping up at the sudden contact, a wail escaping me as he continues suckling and fingering.

“So’lek, fuck!” I yell out as he runs a stripe along my clit, his rough tongue catching in it and rubbing against it deliciously I couldn’t help but buck my hips upward. A pleasing hum running through his body and from the depths of the obscene noises happening in this room, I could hear a gentle rumble, almost like a purr.

“I’m coming-“ I could feel my eyes crossing behind my eyelids and my vision turning white as I feel myself rhytmically grasping his fingers, his movements never ceasing as he continues to plow through my own orgasm and I could feel myself start to lose my own breath in the process.

“You taste delicious.” So’lek comments as his fingering comes to a standstill, I lift my head and open my eyes even when they felt too heavy to keep open and looked at him with a lopsided grin. He only stares right back at me, taking his fingers out of my cunt, and sensually licking the juices off them. I could only stare at him as my own grin fell, the heat returning to my core as I watched him and heard him continue to purr with approval, I lunged toward him and brought his face onto mine and kissed the ever living fuck out of him, breaking the kiss as I started breathing heavily to catch my breath and placed my hands on the fingers of his loincloth.

“You are eager.” He mutters.

I look up at him and see he’s smiling down at me, I blindly undo the knot keeping his loincloth on as I stare into his eyes as well, the look of surprise crossing his features as he looks down at himself to see his loincloth falling off. His cock coming up to slap him in the stomach.

“I’m efficient.” I corrected him and watch the amusement dance around his eyes.

“How’s about you take a turn on the bed while I play with you?” I ask with my hand on his chest running it down his abs sensually, looking back up at him through my lashes.

“You couldn’t handle me.” He threatens and I take that as a challenge.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with a brow lifted as if I was taking him up on his challenge.

_________

I bounced on his cock again as I could feel the fire in my belly growing larger, one of his hands had been settled on my hips, guiding me up and down his length, his purring had returned tenfold from the moment he’d slipped the tip in, and here I was taming him and taking his cock like I promised.

“How is it you can take so much of me in your tiny body?” He strains through his teeth as I continue bouncing off his cock not bothering to quiet down.

“P-pu-pure w-will,” I rasp out while continuing my task, leaning my body over to rest slightly as I move my hips up and down his giant cock, close to the edge already.

“So’lek, I’m- fuck- I can’t!” I wail as I feel my clit being brushed against his pelvis every time I slam myself down.

“Let go, I’m right there too-“ He squeezes my hips tight and I look up to him eith my own eyes struggling to stay open, his own eyes closed as he basks in the pleasure I’m providing him, deciding to fight to keep my eyes open to see his orgasm face when a sudden thought occurs to me.

“I w-wanna s-see you,” I rasp out desperately as I slow down in my pace but continue going rough. I feel his other hand carefully caress my cheek up toward his face, his eyes already opened and looking at mine, and with that I come, it took everything in me to not close my eyes but the euphoria I felt dancing around my body.

“Fuck!” He groans out loudly as his hands go straight to my hips, holding me down on his cock as I feel the tip of him kissing my cervix and explode all over my womb, spurt after spurt of come hitting my womb in a way that sent tingles through my toes.

“Holy shit-“ I mutter as I feel my body ramped up into yet another orgasm, feeling entirely spent as my body limply falls onto So’lek’s my breathing heavy as I attempt to catch my breath, the orgasm still coursing through me as my pussy contracts around him, his own purring dying down as his hips slowly push up against mine.

“No no no, wait-“ I begin before feeling his knot forming and pushing into my body, locking us into place for the time being, but I was too spent to fight it anymore.

“I’m sorry yawne, I didn’t plan for this to happen.“ So’lek begins apologizing but I shake my head as I struggle to lift myself for him to see me.

“It’s okay, we’ll just have to stay here for a bit.”

“You do not mind being tied to me?”

“Think of it as our version of Tsaheylu.”

[aves-rook-laidir]

I can feel myself becoming more and more familiar with DaTV now, like, the characters are becoming more familiar. I find myself thinking about them when I’m going about my day, filling in the gaps of who they are with my own headcanons. Like, did you know Emmrich is deaf in his left ear? He got slammed in his first week of combat training as an Apprentice. He was so annoyed about this that from that point on he worked really hard to practice combat, and to his, and everyone else surprise, was brilliant at it. It’s funny really, that this calm, gentle professor known for floating around picking flowers can knock you off your feet if you test him. Taash was the first to pick up on it, they didn’t bring it up just started fighting on his left.

Or Davrin, he keeps pushing off Bellaras attempts to talk to him about the gods, because he just can’t think about it. If he did it would be like a waterfall. He spent the most formative years of his life caring for Halla in the forest, Ghilan’nain is the Mother of Halla! His clan lived and breathed her worship, whether or not he keeps religion now, her presence is interweaved throughout his childhood, and it was all crap, she was nothing more than a psychopath mage, he can’t think about it.

Hallas make Bellara sneeze, but she denies it.

Lucanis was so overwhelmed that he missed his shot at Weisshaupt it took him nearly a day to utter a word to any of them, he left to be on his own as soon as possible and the moment he was alone he had a panic attack.

Harding often thinks back to Haven, and when the inquisition was just stating out. How she had thought back then that Varric and Solas were old friends, they way they walked together in the hinterlands, chatting about nothing in particular, felt so…comfortable. She misses those days terribly.

Neve didn’t lose her leg in some fantastic battle against the Venatori or a Dragon fight, she was just born without it. Sometimes people are just born different.

When Rook awoke from Solas telling her the truth about the Archdemons, she was so stunned and in shock that when she walked down the stairs to discuss with the others, she fell down them much to everyone’s alarm.

Having to fight a dragon in Treviso almost immediately after meeting cemented a close connection between Rook and Davrin, literally thrown into hell together.

Dorian was the only one able to get anywhere close to that dragon in Minrathos, managed to get a hit square in its eye, but it wasn’t enough. The Iron Bull was in the city the week before, but by the time the dragon attacked he was halfway to the Free Marches.

They all regularly play cards and games around the dining room table.

Taash keeps a small sketchbook on them where they likes to draw all the dragons they meets, they also pets every dog and cat they come across. They sneak hugs from Assan when they think no one is looking.

Emmrich gets Bellara to talk academic theory with him a lot as a form of distraction because he knows she lies awake at night having a never ending crisis of faith.

Bellara often worries and frets that Lucanis isn’t eating enough even though he’s feeding everyone. Lucanis worries the same thing about her.

Lucanis is dyslexic as fuck got really self conscious about how long it was taking him to read one of Neves novels, well, until he realised he literally wasn’t being judge at all actually.

Harding grows elf root to smoke it. Dream blunt rotation to be honest.

Communicating with the dead the way Emmrich does is harder than it looks, it takes a lot of stamina and if the connection is held for too long he’s prone to nosebleeds.

They spar and practice combat in the courtyard in front of the dining hall, usually one v one with the others sitting on the steps watching. Neve keeps encouraging them to take bets.

When Aves sleeps on the green couch, she often wakes up to find Assan curled up nearby. Either that or Emmrich hovering over her because she was screaming in her sleep again and he could hear her in the next room.

Taash and Bellara I’m still working on.

[nmakii]

TILL I RUN DRY!

— alastor x hypersexual ace!reader

— warning: gn!reader (i wrote with fem in mind) sex, hyper-sexuality, intrusive thoughts, abuse, sexualization, body dysmorphia, implied ed (anorexia), self-harm

unapologetically me x alastor bc were married! and um we like to hold hands sooo like deal w it 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ kinda messy hc list too. sfter writing the tw list im worried for myself sheeshhh

he honestly at first did not quite like you. his only experience with hypersexuality has been with angel dust. and, that has been uncomfortable to say the least.

though he starts seeing that behind that mask, you’re hiding something. as a man who hides his intentions most of the time, he can tell you’re covering some part of yourself up. and when you finally let down that mask of yours, whether by accident or on purpose, alastor finds it confusing.

alastor’s original understanding of hypersexuality had been that they were nymphomaniacs who always desired sex. he was confused with your identity, “hypersexual asexual”. it was an oxymoron!

but, now that he’s developed a bond with you, he’s starting understand that there was… some difference between drive and attraction. the line is still a bit faint to him.

now that alastor has gotten to know you better, he starts to see that both of you are fairly similar, at least when it comes to the lack of sexual attraction. and now that he knows you act this way for a reason, he doesn’t shame you like he does with angel dust. (not that angel isn’t valid, alastor just doesn’t wish to talk to him) and after learning that these sexual remarks of your’s are compulsive, he tries to tolerate them to the best of his abilities.

whenever you have these hypersexual episodes and start to cope, alastor doesn’t prefer to ‘help’ you. he’ll leave you to your own devices until it’s over. but, he’s perfectly fine cleaning you up. whether it be setting up a bath, or bandaging a scar. he doesn’t intend on stopping you since… he doesn’t exactly know how to. all that he does know is how to comfort you after they happen.

he’d feel sympathetic if you started feeling disgusted with yourself after an episode. he generally also feels sympathetic for you if the trauma that had wired your mind like this had been inflicted by older men, or someone you thought was your friend.

sometimes, when it’s late into the day, alastor’ll catch you bedrotting because you feel disgusted with yourself. he doesn’t say anything though, because if he did, it’d be a lie. if you noticed it and got upset, alastor would probably say something along the lines of “yes, i won’t deny that you’re a bit… twisted in the head, dear. but, i’ll still be here for you. you’re quite dear to me, i wouldn’t just leave you!”

he’s often confused when you wear revealing clothing and try to sexualize yourself whilst not even wanting to have sex. and, when you say that you’re trying to prove to yourself that you’re pretty enough to sexualize, he’s speechless to say the least. he’s never met someone like you before, nor does he tend to even try to help.

there are times alastor finds you staring in the mirror and observing your body. he can tell in your eyes that you’re judging your figure on how appealing it is, and that you’re thinking of how to make yourself look ‘better’. and to distract your thoughts, he hugs you from behind, and puts all the attention on him. he’d say something like “what ever are you doing, sweetheart? i can’t deny how gorgeous you are, but you’ll go crosseyed if you keep staring like that!”

and knowing you, judging your figure would probably lead to something like starving yourself. so, he observes how much you eat, and tries to encourage you to eat more.

alastor would still get incredibly uncomfortable if you started forcing yourself onto him and trying to seduce him. he doesn’t want to do that, but he wouldn’t want to hurt your fragile state either. when he denies you, he can see that you get upset. so, he explains that he wouldn’t want to take advantage of you like other unruly men have before, and that it doesn’t have anything to do with how attractive you are.

he’d also get a bit irritated during these dramatic moments of yours where you push everyone away. you start to get much more depressed during these moments, and he can’t help wondering about your well-being. it doesn’t matter if you’re pushing him away, he’s still lurking somewhere in the shadows to make sure you’re safe.

if you ever got close enough to alastor to confess the darker parts of your hypersexuality, like a need to be abused to feel loved, he’d feel sick to his stomach. why on earth would you want such a thing? to feel as if you’re attractive? he’d let you confess these thoughts to him, you’re trusting him with a dark part of yourself after all. but, if you were to seek it out in real life, he’d absolutely stop you. he’d never realistically allow you to get hurt while he’s still with you.

he finds it you to be a very unfortunate individual. he still tries to be there for you when he can, even if it made him mildly uncomfortable.

[natsgrave]

YOU'RE LOSING ME | wanda maximoff

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N's POV

What are you really willing to do for love? For someone so important to you?

Well, for me, I'll do everything and anything for that person. Even though it hurts. So much.

I rolled to my side and smile instantly crept into my face. There she is, my girlfriend looking so peaceful. I admire her sleeping state and curved her figures inside my mind.

"You know, it's rude to stare." She suddenly spoke making me laugh.

"What? Can't I admire my gorgeous girl?" I teasingly asked.

She slowly opened her eyes revealing my favorite green eyes, "Good morning, Y/N." she whispered with a smile.

"Good morning, witchy." I softly said with a little laugh that I tried to hide causing her to throw a pillow at me.

I love morning like this. Just us not caring about the world.

Just like the clock works before we know it, we already have to leave the bed to face reality.

"It's nice to finally see you awake, love birds." Tony said as he took a sipped of his coffee.

"We're not love birds, Stark." Wanda replied with the roll of her eyes.

Ah, yes, we're secret because she said and I quote she's not yet ready to come out. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt me one bit because it does. All I want is to love her, out in the open and not like this.

I felt a hand touches my shoulder causing me to go back to reality, I look infront of me and met Wanda's soft gazes, "Are you okay? I've called you so many times."

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I'm good." I breathed out and walked away not giving her any second glance.

I walked towards the kitchen and make myself coffee when Natasha spoke.

"Still keeping it a secret?" I didn't even notice she's here. And yes, she's the only one who knows about our relationship. We didn't tell her for the record, she just walked in on us… making out.

Anyway, I look up at her and gave her a defeated smile, "Isn't it obvious?"

"How long are you going to ignore that pain inside your chest?" she asked and I didn't answer because honestly… I don't know either.

"Y/N, when are you going to choose yourself? When are you going to see what your worth really is?" She continues holding my shoulder forcing me to face her.

"I love her." I whispered.

"And I know that, I can see that. Hell, you wouldn't even ignore and bare all this pain if you don't." Nat said and lift my chin, "You're like a sister to me and I don't say this often but I do love you, Y/N. I care for you and it's really hard seeing my little sister getting hurt whether she does it unintentionally." She softly added.

"Nat, I-" The words I was about to say instantly cut off when I heard Wanda's laugh ringing loud. I look behind us and see her laughing with Vision. The fucking red walking toaster.

"Are you sure the reason why she's keeping you both a secret is because she is not yet ready or…?" She asked trailing her last word knowing that I'll know it instantly.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I reassured her but deep down, it was for me.

Days turns into weeks which also turn into months. Months and nothing changed, not even a single thing. Every time I try opening the subject to Wanda, she always find a way to divert it into different subject but today, I wouldn't let it happen. Not anymore.

"Wanda, we need to talk." I sternly said as I enter her room.

"Hi to you too, baby." she replied still sitting on her bed.

"We can't go on like this." I directly said starting the topic.

"Y/N, can we–"

"No, we can't. We're going to talk about this right now. God, we've been together for almost three years, Wanda. Three long fucking years and not even single effort you made to change our status."

"Y/N, you know damn well I'm not yet ready to make us public." She said nearly shouting.

"Three years is not enough for you? I didn't say that you make us public, all I want is for the team to know. Just them. I'm tired being your little secret, I'm tired of you being mine just around this goddamn four walls. I respect what you want and need, Wanda. For three years, I prioritized what you want, this, but you have to understand that I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I kept pushing my needs aside because I love you, but I can't do it anymore. I want to love you, freely. I kept choosing you, I kept giving you all my best me's until there's nothing left for me. I can't choose you anymore." I ramble, on the verge of crying but I kept all my emotions under control.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry." Wanda softly said standing infront of me.

"Are you apologizing because you're now realizing all of this or are you apologizing because you still can't give the only thing I want?" I asked quietly.

"I'm sorry because I hurt you and I keep on hurting you."

"THEN TAKE IT AWAY! MAKE THIS GO AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS! DO SOMETHING!" I shouted as my tears finally left my eyes.

"Y/N…"

"Wanda, I don't know anymore. Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired. I tried, I keep telling myself to wait until you're ready but every time, this voices inside my head kept telling and asking me, are you even going to get there?" I cried out.

"Are you… Are you tired now, Y/N?" she shakily asked.

I nod and wiped my tears, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I feel so lost, this between us made me doubt myself so much. Am I not worth the risk for you? I'm tired of wondering how can you just pretend everyday like we're nothing." I sobbed and sat on the bed as I rest my face on my hands, "I'm tired of saying that I'm okay, that it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of pretending everyday. I'm tired of waiting for you to fulfill your promises. I'm tired of defending you against Nat especially myself. I believed in you, Wanda. I kept waiting but it seems like in this relationship, it's not us against the world. It's me against you." I said between cries looking at her to see her crying as well.

"Y/N, I know whatever I say right now wouldn't change anything. It won't take the pain that I've caused you but trust me, I love you. I really do. I can understand how hurtful it must have been for you. I know that I failed to treat you with the love and respect that you deserve. I am truly sorry for any pain or suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I can only imagine the amount of pain that I have caused you. I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. I am willing to work on myself and our relationship to ensure that this does not happen again. I know that sorry is not enough to fix the mess I have made. I promise to do everything I can to show you how much I love and value you as my girlfriend." Wanda sobbingly said as she held my hand.

"There, you're making promises once again. How many time did you promise me that you'll make it up to me? at first you'll make such effort but eventually, you'll stop and forget about it. I don't even know if I can trust anything that's coming out of your mouth right now." I said and walked away from her, "It hurts me to think that we can't share this part of our lives together with those who are important to us. Am I not important to you? Do you not trust me? Or is it just too scary to go against the norm? I can't keep pretending not to be in love with you when we're around others. I want to hold your hand, introduce you to my friends and family, and just be able to love you openly without any fear or shame." I added. "I don't understand." Wanda said. I chuckled, "I know you don't."

"Do you want to end this? Us?" She asked with fears in her eyes.

I stayed quiet for few seconds thinking what I really want before looking back at her meeting her eyes, "Yes." I husked out causing more tears to fall out of her eyes.

"I'm just so tired, Wanda. I'm tired of the stress and the pressure that surrounds us every day. I'm tired of asking 'how long?' I'm tired of feeling like there's never enough time to do everything we want to do. I'm tired of constantly feeling like we're not doing enough, or that we're falling short somehow. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling disconnected from you. It feels like you've been so busy, so caught up in your own life, that you don't take the time to connect with me. I miss those intimate moments where we could just talk about anything and everything, and I feel like we don't have those as often as we should. It has to be done and I don't want to place blame on anyone— not myself, not you, not anyone else." I walked towards her and wiped her tears before pressing our foreheads together, "I'm sorry, I never thought that this day will come. I'm sorry I got tired and couldn't wait anymore. I love you but I can't be with you anymore. My heart won't start anymore." I finished before lingering a long kiss on her head.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for not showing it enough. I'm sorry I failed us." She sniffles before looking at me and caressed my cheeks, "I love you… in every universe."

I finally understood that true love isn't always about being together; Sometimes, it's about letting go. Because love alone, wasn't enough.

Both ends of rope were held, but they were held by me, and only me.

I love her too much and that's my biggest mistake I'll never regret, and if I'd ever meet her again in another lifetime, I'll beg the god to let me have you this time.

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧︰ TAROT 101: developing your intuition.

Hello lovelies, welcome to the first post of my Tarot 101 series! After receiving a few questions, I decided to incorporate a series of tips and tutorials for other self-taught readers. Today, I'm answering a follower's asks sent in my DM's. I'm tackling it separately, so it makes more sense to other people to read it. PS: Since this is a major work in progress and I'm not an all-knowing, almighty entity, please provide feedback, comments or concerns you might have! Thank you.

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How you develop your intuition and psychic abilities while reading tarot?

There is not one size fits all. While many readers recommend connecting to oneself, that's just the basis of it, really, but the main concept is to look at yourself, compassionately. Without the judgment of our everyday lives and the chaos of getting things right in the first attempt. You cannot be honest with yourself (or your intuition), if self-denial is the state you're living in. Or worse: if you view the truth as punishment.

It's always going to be a journey of discovery, and the first thing about spirituality is that you need to keep an open heart to the magic. Skepticism may get you far ahead in your career or financial matters, but when it comes to intuition, you can't grasp onto logic all the time.

With tarot, it's a little more practical: learn and lean into the cards. Notice I didn't say memorize, because many of us are busy enough with our everyday schedules. Just tap into them. Look at them. What does The Lovers remind you of? Maybe it takes you to the story about the Garden of Eden. Or- maybe it reminds you of your parents, their golden youth before marrying.

Again. No judgement. Let your stream of consciousness free. A huge part of reading tarot is allowing your imagination to run wild. Although the Devil card can symbolize obsession or addiction at first, take into account the spread, the topic. The context. What is your body telling you about the images you see?

We often underestimate the symbolism behind the cards. Without considering the traditional meanings,take one card out of your deck and just look at it. What colors are prominent? What do these colors represent in modern society? Do these people look happy? Are there any people at all? Where are they? Let your mind weave a story.

As a tarot reader, what you do on daily basis for intuition and tarot reading? What practices, book, or some kind of information which help you for tarot readings?

There are many things that have helped me, personally, but I'm going to mention some of the best practices I've seen, both for myself and for others.

› Stay creative. If it means drawing, writing, or painting, then stay creative. Find whatever little (or big) ways you can express your creativity. Remember you don't have to be "good". You can just be. Creativity exists in a lot of ways.

› Engage with other readers. Observe them. You can find a tarot reader that deeply resonates with you and watch how they read. Test if it works for you. Remember this is your practice, it's your sacred space, so you don't have to follow someone else's rules.

› Read, if and when you can. I personally recommend the book "History of Tarot" by Isabelle Nadolny, but not everyone can afford books or the time to read them. There are plenty of Youtube tutorials and free guidebooks on Biddy Tarot, for example. I also love Servant of The Fates' blog. They're both different and great, reliable sources.

› Start small. You can pull one card a day. Get a journal, write its meaning (or what it means to you) and record your progress. In a few months, when you return to it, you might find it surprising.

› Let yourself not know everything. No one does. Sometimes, you'll need to pause, go back to a guidebook and read the meaning all over again. Other times, you'll look at the spread and feel nothing. That's okay too. We're not meant to know all the answers.

Is meditation really important for reading tarot? Why? How much time do you spend daily for tarot readings and spiritual practices?

Since this is more of a personal matter, I'll be talking about myself. I don't meditate as often as most readers. Three times a month, maybe? I have a busy schedule and I can only meditate before bed, if I'm not too sleepy. Many people find that meditation makes them anxious or they're not able to fully let go. Other people find it that being in silence or taking a walk is more useful to them. Relaxation and meditation come in many, many forms. The important thing is to nurture your body and soul more than to adhere to rigid rules.

However, when it comes to saving time for readings or spiritual practices, I don't set rules for myself. It never works for me.

I let it flow. Sometimes, I go weeks on end without really consuming tarot content and I bond with my decks occasionally. And other times, I'm reading daily, journaling and trying to improve my skills. Since I have a billion other things to care for, I'm not always able to prioritize tarot as much as I'd like, but the important thing is to stay passionate, stay curious and get back to it. Better late than never.

When you're getting started, let yourself try. If you get it wrong, at least you'll be one step closer to getting it right.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[toychest321]

Ugh, I've been meaning to post about this doll for what feels like ages! Allergies have been pretty bad this week, but I've finally been able to pull myself together enough to post about Fulla's prayer dolls!

According to the Islamic blog Alhannah.com, "The purpose of a prayer outfit is twofold – to respect the sanctity of prayer by covering one’s ‘Awrah’ (parts of the body that should be covered in public) and to uphold the principles of modesty".

"A prayer outfit typically encompasses a long, loose-fitting skirt paired with a top that has a head covering (Hijab), collectively ensuring that the body remains concealed during prayer". The website also states that there are one-piece and two-piece versions of the outfit, the choice between the two often coming down to preference of the wearer (in this case, it seems Fulla prefers the latter)

Muslims pray five times per day: once in the morning before dawn (Fajr), once at midday (Dhuhr), once in the afternoon (Asr), once after sunset (Maghrib), and once in the evening (Isha).

As far as I can find, there have been three prayer dolls of Fulla released. Two are for the Fajr and Isha prayers respectively, and one is for a process connected to all five!

Fulla's first prayer doll was released in 2004 with a doll-sized prayer mat and prayer beads for yourself!

Prayer mats are used to ensure the ground is clean while praying. Prayer beads, meanwhile, are used for dhikr, a process of prayer recitation after each of the five daily prayers. The beads are typically counted for each of the 99 names of Allah recited, however with certain prayer beads consisting of 33 beads instead (such as the one included here) they are counted 3 times over. The first 33 recitations are "Subhan Allah" (Glory be to Allah), the second 33 are "Al-Ahamdulilah" (Praise be to God), and the final 33 are "Allahu Akbar" (God is greatest). After these you must pray "Laa ilaha illallah wahdahu la sharika lah lahul mulku wa lahul hamdu wa huwa ala kulli shay in qadir" (There is no god worthy of worship except Allah alone, with no partner or associate) once.

Her next prayer doll was released in 2006 for the Morning Prayer (Fajr)! While I can't definitively say the same for the prior Prayer Dress Fulla, this doll wears indoor clothes underneath her prayer outfit to start the day! She comes with a prayer mat and bag, and (it says on the box but its hard to read) a prayer booklet of the Morning Prayers! And I hadn't even known this until now for this doll or the next, but apparently there's a button on her back that makes her recite them (batteries included)!

I like how much the pink pops against the white! Although the outfit is decent, it looks a bit plain compared to her other indoor looks (although that could have been intentional). I don't have any particularly strong feelings on her fashion, but it's decent!

The same year a doll for the Night Prayers (Isha) was released as well! Underneath her prayer clothes she wears a pair of pink pajamas with gingham detailing, with matching pink slippers! It seems she also came with a prayer mat, bag, and booklet (this time for the Night Prayers) as the Morning Prayers Fulla did! And yes, she also has a button to make her pray them with you!

I love these pajamas so much, they're so cute!!! And the way they match her prayer outfit too??? Indoor-fashion-wise, I probably prefer this one over the Morning Prayer's indoor outfit.

Overall, I love how all of these dolls not only represent a significant Islamic religious practice, but encourage children to do it with her! Between the prayer beads and voice button, I can easily see this doll joining in prayer with her owner :)

And not too difficult to imagine either, since Fulla has also made officially branded prayer clothes in 2005, 2007, and as recent as 2024!

Anyway, I'm glad I was finally able to dive deep into this topic like I'd been meaning to look into for a while (now to get some sleep as it is currently 4am)

Ramadan Kareem!

[back2bluesidex]

Dear Darling - JHS [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Serpent king (imoogi)!Hoseok X Human!Reader

Theme: Angst, dark romance, smut, fantasy au.

Wordcount: 3.1k+

Summary: After his bride flees from his clutches and reaches the realm of mortals to reunite with her lover - Hoseok has no choice but to chase her. Upon his arrival to the land of obnoxious humans, he crosses paths with you. You are a small, driven mortal who walks with a load of despair on her back. You are nothing but a delicious meal to him and he wants nothing more than to suck your life out of you, find his runaway wife and return to his kingdom. But much to his dismay, you ruin his plans, make him do what he never imagined doing in 600 years of his life - like making him fall in love and keeping him bound to you.

Warnings: Toxic family dynamics, reader is depressed, mentions of self-harming and su*cide. NSFW!!

Accepting Taglist Requests.

A/N: Let me know what you think of it.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Masterlist | Patreon (Early access to the chapters)

People say snakes are the most poisonous creatures in the world. 

They actually haven’t seen or met your family. For that, your own family members, your own blood, are the most poisonous creatures you have ever come across. 

Your sister taps the butt of her fork on the glass table making an awful sound. Why is she doing so? Of course because she knows you have misophonia and these kinds of sounds trigger you badly. 

“I should get going now” you announce, taking a last sip of your orange juice. 

“Why so early, Y/N? It’s only ten in the morning!” your sister says in a whiney voice. 

“I have work, unnie.” you reply calmly but don’t forget to emphasize ‘work’ because that’s something your sister lacks in life. 

“Only if you listened to me and got married like your sister, you would be living a much more comfortable life.” your mother objects from the other side of the table. 

“Mother, I am more comfortable in my lifestyle than I ever had the privilege of being. Yes maybe, I don’t have a hefty paycheck, or shiny cars like you all. But I earn, all by myself, and don’t have to beg my father or husband for parking fees.” The last part of your statement was directed to your sister.  

She is way too proud of her beauty, her popular state among the wealthy-family-community. She often bragged about how she had thirty-two suitors at one time who were ready to bring her the moon if she had asked for it. 

And she chose the most humble man among them (aka the wealthiest one). 

Your sister scoffs at your accusations, “admit that you are jealous, Y/N. I at least have a husband who is ready to worship the ground I walk in. What about you? You are 28 and still alone? No one even approaches you since you decided to become independent. If I am not wrong, you had to buy yourself a cake this year on your birthday. Have you forgotten that already?” 

Your grip on the glass goes tight at that. She is not completely wrong. You lost most of your friends one-by-one since you moved out of the house and denied inheritance over your father’s business. All of the guys who approach you knowing your family’s status are either unaware of your situation or just want to use your name as a pawn. 

As a result - you are left alone. 

Completely alone. 

There are days when you think you should just end it all. Jump off a bridge and no one would actually care. 

There are also days when you feel hopeful, when you like to believe that you, too, will find someone to love you, to call you their home. 

There are days when you accept your fate of being alone. An unsupportive family, mean friends, unfaithful partners have already taught you enough lessons about how cruel life can be, so it’s better for you to just accept it all and move on - even though you hardly know where to move on, where to go, if there is anything to look forward or not. 

“Move back to the house, Y/N. Listen to us and I promise I will revise my will.” Your father chimes in with his suggestion. His voice is so soft that anyone would think he is actually concerned about you. 

But that’s a facade. 

He only wants you back so that he can sell you off to a wealthy guy just like your sister. His business, which is a few steps away from being a conglomerate, will grow much faster. And that will be his key to more power, more money. 

“If I had wanted your money from the start - I wouldn't have moved out in the first place.” you offer your final statement as you take your bag and storm out of the dining place, and then the house. 

One more moment in this house with these people and you might kill yourself. 

As if your family wasn’t enough to annoy you, now everywhere you look, all you see is: Couples. 

Couples of various ages, various stages, but all lovey-dovey and cringey. 

Reminding you how you are 28 and still so partner-less. 

You usually love this little walk from the bus-stop to your workplace. You get to enjoy the fresh air, get to witness the changing colors of seasons, the setting-sun while coming back home and the stars if you end up over-working. 

This is one of the few luxuries, feel-good materials that you allow yourself. 

Other than these small things - there is hardly anything that excites you, makes you happy. 

You shove your hands inside the pocket of your jacket and focus very little on your surroundings. Just when you are a couple of feet away from the building, you see a tall figure standing in front of the entrance, very probably, checking himself out in the glass exterior. 

He is unfamiliar. So you initially decide to ignore him and walk past him to enter the building. But as you take a few more steps towards the man, you notice his side profile, his tall, lithe body, fitted dress suit and heeled boots. 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you drink him in little by little. 

He is immensely beautiful. 

His chiseled jaw, perfectly mounted nose, sharp eyes, immaculately styled dark hair and full lips - everything makes him the most handsome man you have ever seen. 

He is glistening in the sun.. as if there is an invisible outer layer added to his skin. 

It’s not that you have never seen handsome guys - Kim Seokjin from the finance department and your uni friend Kim Taehyung are the epitome of beauty but you have never seen anyone as beautiful, majestic as this man. 

You feel an instant, unexplainable pull towards him. 

It’s something that drains all of your feminism out of your body. You want to walk up to him and sacrifice yourself on his feet even though you don’t know who he is. 

Probably upon feeling your burning stare on his face, he turns his head to look at you. And he looks dead into your eyes. His stare is so intense that it feels he is reading you out like an open but untouched book. 

You stand there dumbly, holding a boiling eye-contact with him, not knowing how to walk forward or how to even use your legs anymore. 

The pretty heart-shaped lips of the man soon turn upwards, bending into a smile. A smile so beautiful, so addictive, so hypnotic that you find yourself gulping a lump that you never knew formed in your throat.

That’s when you realize that you are ogling at an unknown man like a creep. When men stare at you like you are their next meal in public places - you hate it. But the undeniable beauty of this has turned you into one of those people you hate. 

So you gather your wits, look away from him and try to walk away from the man, only for him to stop you with his smooth voice, “Miss, are you an employee here?” 

Your steps halt as soon as his words enter inside your ear. “Are you talking to me?” you ask dumbly. Of course he is talking to you, there is no one else close enough for him to direct his questions at. 

But he seems to be kind. The man nods and murmurs a little, “yes” 

“Yeah. I work here. Are you looking for someone?” you offer, trying not to choke on your own spit.

He steps closer to you, sun rays playing on his dark orbs.

Fuck! He’s even more beautiful up close!   

“Not particularly. Can you, kindly, tell me where the executive office is?” He answers your query. 

“Executive office?” you frown, “there is no such office but there is an entire floor for executives. Do you want me to take you there?” 

“Yes. I’d be grateful if you would lead the way.” he replies softly. 

Your heart leaps a little at his gentle voice. You can hardly remember when for the last time anyone has been this gentle to you. 

Giving him a small smile you start walking towards the building. 

During the small walk from the entrance to the elevator, the mysterious stranger gets all the attention of the spectators. You find some of the front desk employees squealing like high school girls. 

Even though you cringe at such reactions usually, this one time you know it’s justified. You were very much spellbound a few minutes ago. 

Thankfully the elevator is empty when you get inside it with the man following you closely behind. But all of your thankfulness vanishes as you stand there alone with the enigmatic man inside the metal confinement. 

His fragrance envelops you. 

Fuck. he smells so nice. You think. But it’s not the kind of smell that you usually get a whip of. Neither he smells earthy, nor like aftershave, nor he emits the strong manly fragrance. 

He smells kinda sweet - no, not floral or fruity. It’s something you can’t quite explain. It’s hypnotic - dizzying. 

“Are you here to see anyone?” You break the silence. Because you might faint from the overwhelming attraction that has started clouding your judgements. 

“I am here to report to work, Miss.” he replies simply without even looking at you, while you are staring at his side profile as if he is one of those modern abstract arts pieces in art galleries that you find a hard time understanding. 

“Report? W-who are you reporting under?” Is he reporting to someone from the executive floor? Then is he an executive himself? That makes sense because he is wrapped up in wealth from top to bottom - his suit dress, his shoes must cost six months worth of your paycheck. 

“Min Yoongi himself.” he whips his head towards you and gives you one lopsided smile. All of a sudden your knees feel weak to withstand your own body weight. 

You only nod, reluctant to say anything when he clearly isn’t much interested in conversing with you. 

The fifth floor approaches, the elevator door opens with a ding. 

“This is my floor, I must get to work now. You need to get out on the seventh floor. I have already pressed the button so you don’t have to.” you bow a little. When you stand straight you find him regarding you with those dark eyes. His irises are shining like black pearls.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a kind soul. Thank you for the help, Miss….” his sentence doesn’t end completely. 

You take the hint and say while stepping out of the elevator door all while facing him, “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”   

“Y/N” he says with a breathy voice. The fine hairs at the back of your neck stand in protest, “I am Hoseok… Jung Hoseok.” 

“Hoseok…” You murmur under your breath, your heart rises inside your ribcage. Your chest feels tight, stomach feels light as you keep looking into his eyes until the elevator door shuts, parting you from the mysterious man who has very clearly encaptured you unlike anything you have ever experienced before. 

Hoseok’s heeled boots clink against the expensive marbles of the executive floor. For a moment he dares to compare the interior decoration with his own palace. But the Mins would surely go penniless if they start decorating their office with the priceless stones and gold that serpent king Jung Hoseok’s palace boasts. 

The receptionist at floor entry has shown him the way to Yoongi’s room and his super powers easily help him glide around the corridors without having to make him look like an unearthly creature. 

So he finds the room rather easily. 

He knocks before pushing the door to enter like the human he is pretending to be. 

When Yoongi sees him, he stands up abruptly and bends half in a deep bow, “My king, you have arrived.” 

“I have.” he replies, “so healthy, full of life and above all so pure, would make a perfect meal for me.” he speaks with a smile tugging at his lips as he recalls your face - a beauty indeed. 

“May I have the pleasure of knowing what you are referring to, my king?” Min Yoongi gestures to Hoseok to sit down on the luxurious sofa before he takes a seat himself. 

“I had the opportunity of coming across one of your employees. She lent one kind hand to show me the way.” Hoseok pauses and recalls your face, your eyes, the purity that spills through them, “I must admit, she is the purest creature I have ever found. You know Min, my lifespan can get longer with such purity. I need to feed on her, suck her sweet soul out of her body. Will you allow me to do so?” 

A smug smile tugs at the corner of Hoseok’s lips. He knows there is no way his obedient servant will not allow him, he is just enjoying the flustered state of Min Yoongi’s pale face that his proposition created. 

“Th-that goes without saying, My lord. You may do anything you please. This lowly creature is no one to object. However..” Yoongi bows his head a little more and continues, “May I ask who the employee is?” 

“Her name is Y/N. Such a kind human she is. She lent me her lead and showed me the way around this building. But I could see her true self. How unhappy she is with the way this world works. So I have come to this decision of setting her free by feeding on her.” 

The smile that now envelops Hoseok’s entire face is nothing but evil. Just the thought of having your soul and being able to live more, rule more already excites him. 

He hasn’t felt this excited, enticed in a long time - not even when he found his perfect mate, Soojin. It was probably when he defeated the king of Gumiho and conquered his kingdom, that was the last time he vibrated with this much excitement. 

Serpent king Jung Hoseok’s visit to the mortal world is going quite well so far. 

“What do you think it is?” Segyeong asks from the seat beside you. You only shrug as a reply as you focus on the stage.

Every team lead and managers have received an email this noon informing that Min Yoongi has an important announcement to make. Hence, everyone who receives the email has to be present in the auditorium before 3 pm.

Since you are leading the strategic planning team of Min corporation - you were automatically invited. 

You wait patiently as your colleague goes on and on about her boyfriend, his annoying habits and how much she loathes her life right now. 

You are a good listener - you know. But there are occasions when you wish you could stop listening to everyone. You are their outlet, but who is yours? Who listens to you? Whose arms do you fall back on? To whom you go seeking warmth, some comfort? No one. 

When will you have someone to love you? When will you fall in love? 

Suddenly the question paints a very vague picture of someone in your eyes. It remotely looks like the man you met this morning. It remotely looks like Jung Hoseok. 

You shake your head to get rid of the desire that has started bubbling inside your chest since the moment you have seen him. 

All the chatters of the auditorium come to a stop when Min Yoongi walks inside the room and stands on the podium. 

He clears his throat before starting with the announcement, “Good afternoon everyone. I hope your work has been going well. Today is a special occasion and even though I know it’s sudden, I couldn’t help sharing a very good news with you all.” he pauses for a brief second, as if scanning the room for once then he finally continues, “As you know, the position of Vice President is vacant for a couple of months now after Mr. Choi’s sudden demise. While the board of directors have tried to choose an eligible candidate to grace the position, there have always been one fall out or another. But finally we have come to a conclusion and chosen the next vice president of Min Corporation.” The room grows kind of loud with noises of surprise and whispers. You, too, can’t help but wonder who is going to be the next president. Segyeong is the office-gossip-queen. So, if there was an election going on, she would have known and naturally you would have known as well. 

“However, the thing is that… he is not anyone from the company itself. He has been requested to take up the position because the Min Corporation you know would have been nowhere without his help. He is a close friend of mine, a mentor, a genius. Please raise your hand in applause and welcome your new Vice President Mr. Jung Hoseok.” 

Your mouth opens on its own accord, your eyebrows shoot up to reach your hairline. Why hadn’t it clicked before? Hoseok said he is reporting directly under Min Yoongi! That definitely was enough of a clue. 

Your brooding session comes to an abrupt halt when you feel Segyeong holding your arm in a vice grip threatening to cut blood circulation at any given moment. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, Y/N! Who is this Greek god???” she squeals without averting her eyes from the stage. 

A loud thunder of claps ring as you look at the man, now standing on the podium. 

There he is, Jung Hoseok, standing as if he owns the world. His sharp features, expensive dress suit and million dollar shoes gleaming under the blaring lights. 

“Good afternoon everyone. I am Jung Hoseok, and I am honored to be taking up the position of Vice President of Min Corporation. First of all thanks to Min Yoongi for thinking of me to be capable enough. Secondly, thanks to you all for joining me and accepting me. I am grateful to you all.” Hoseok dips his head in a small bow. 

When he strengthens his posture, you find him looking directly at you, despite you sitting on the fourth row, despite the dim lighting of the seating area. 

“Let’s get to know each other so that we get close.” he concludes his speech with a blinding smile. Something floods in your chest as you feel those to be oddly dedicated to you.   

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[dflogerzi]

It has taken me an entire night and the next morning to gather my thoughts. I think most of the world is doing just that as well. And who we are will be shown in how we now walk forward as people and as individuals.

I was a very little girl just in school when JFK was shot. I remember the day clearly even though I was very young. They dismissed us and sent us home, which looking back would never have happened in these times. I was far too little to be walking home the three or four blocks in the middle of the day, with no parent waiting.

I also remember when Reagan was shot. Clearly. Many people have not connected the family that was involved... and whom they were close friends with. I do not speak of it much any longer, I have learned that it does not serve anyone to do so. For in these days people firmly believe what they do, no reason to banter on. But I am going to say this... The very same people who saw out Kennedy almost did the same with Ronald Reagan. And I do not care a bit who believes me or not.

I had in the past few years bowed out of my own searches, journeying, and going down rabbit holes in an attempt to find quiet spaces for my days. I suppose I had decided to succumb to what I see as the inevitable. I saw no way out. I grew up around diversity, I played with children of all colors growing up, and I served in a military that even in the 1980's had every type of person in every single shade you could imagine. I was ahead of my time I suppose. So seeing all sides of the coin was always easy for me. And I have always straddled the middle ground.

What each of us should be asking ourselves today is this... What are my goals? My personal goals for myself, my children, and my grandchildren? How do I want to see my neighborhood? My library? My places to walk, explore, use as recreation, and take pause in? The preservation of art, history, and relics from the past? What is of the most importance?

Anyone who is not seeing where the world is being led to is not truly observing without the severe propaganda that has been purposely thrust upon the masses. It was legalized more than a decade ago in the United States, and it has been a major success in it's efforts. Mankind is losing, and in my opinion, on purpose. And we are even being openly told so. It is not being hidden. I think it is part of the NWO belief system actually... that we are told outright and we accept it. Or never listen. Like the sheep we are often likened to be.

So another attempt was made to end a life yesterday due to politics. And instead of a country who goes to the polls, in real and valid elections where EVERYONE casts one vote, legally and lawfully, a different future was instead being thrust upon a nation as an attempt. I would have far less worry about entering into a socialist and global state if I felt it was a REAL and lawful vote from every citizen of the country I belong to. I do not believe our elections are safe. And I believe they have not been universally in a long, long while.

We are not just looking at the character of our leaders... but we are looking at the character of each one of us. I am so grateful today that I am on the other side of my life span. And I am so sorry for our grandchildren who may never know some of the beauty of this world. It has been heart breaking to watch the decline of our civilizations.

So much evil. And I will submit from the cheap seats, up in the peanut gallery, that the very same people attempted to take a life yesterday as they have before. Some still alive as accomplices...

This is not about political parties. Anyone who believes that is sleeping far better than I am. This is about humanity. And integrity. And love for our world.

Okay. I suppose I will post this. And then onward with the day. Which is all each of us actually have. Seize it. As I am going to. Love to my friends here.