#cw: implication of CSA

[ansicred]

TANGLED UP IN YOUR SUMS

Hidden under their bed, Nesta comforts Ben through his PTSD and helps him realise that he can get better if he allows himself the grace to do so. Relationship Dynamics; Starts Angsty; Fluffy; Mental Hurt-Comfort. SETTING: In Ben & Nesta's house in the Whitechapel Supernatural District, London | Sometime in 2016. CHARACTER(S) INVOLVED: Ben, Nesta WARNING(S): cw: implication of CSA , implied discussion of CSA (in Ben's past at the Puppy Pen)

[glimfag]

again & again & again

full version

[todayisafridaynight]

Throwing in fun (not fun) facts to contribute esp bc I was tagged in the essay: (Sorry in advance this is literally my career and special interest AND I just got back from a training conference about this SO obv I am going to talk too much. Disclosure: These statistics are from peer-reviewed sources AND the National Children's Alliance. The NCA IS an American association, though, so take this all with a grain of salt bc we're applying it to someone whose bg is not American lmao. This is an essay for funsies. CW: discussion of and stats about CSA, Child Abuse) Relevant to the Jo stuff is also that victims of one/any kind of abuse are statistically much more likely to subsequently face overlapping abuse, so knowing he comes from a home where abuse and potential neglect was actively occurring sets Jo-boy up for some sad statistics. I am looking for my notes on the stats for that but it's something stupid high, I wanna say over 30 or 40%.

Additionally, 47%~ of CSA victims are revictimized. Abysmal statistic but mostly just an interesting note if this IS the case/if we choose to interpret Jo this way bc of the other things mentioned in Masu's ask, specifically if we're viewing his unhealthy and ultimately traumatic relationship with Ikumi as a potential example of that revictimization (similarly, coming from a like background, it may have been revictimizing for Ikumi if she had ever experienced something like CSA, as well. It's one of those cases where they both got hurt even if neither of them were at fault for "playing house" as Jo calls it).

Seconding/Adding on to Masu's thoughts about Jo's behavior being as self-destructive as it is because of the compounded trauma of his life, victims of adolescent abuse "engage in health-risk behaviors such as substance use, physical fighting, and risky sexual activity," in far higher numbers than non-victims. We know for facts that adolescent Jo checks at least 2 of those 3 boxes, and that he still puts himself in unnecessary danger as a full grown adult (the Heian Tower fight, and Hoshino's Office fight): An interesting and well-written cycle of trauma and abuse on RGGs part, tbh, but also so narratively telling about how he saw/sees/continues to see himself as more an object than a person. (Love your notes on that btw, it rings very true. I could write an essay on that alone tbh.)

Another weird little thing I notice from both a Doyalist AND Watsonian perspective: Jo's disclosure of his father's abuse would classify as what we call an "accidental disclosure" in the field even though it's clearly intentional that he shares it with Ichi - it's offhanded and markedly unimportant in the story he's telling. He says it passively in a literary sense, as well: "The only thing waiting for me at home was my father's fists." Like homie, that's the most roundabout way you could have said "My dad beat me." Interestingly, up to 50% of [specifically CSA] victims do not state outright that abuse occurs, but disclose it accidentally/offhandedly; and in general, accidental disclosure is more common among people who have also delayed disclosure. Up to 66% of admissions from victims of child abuse come delayed if they come at all.

I think it's a very in-character remark of him to make, but statistically, it lines up with other victims of abuse as a whole. I think it's also just cool that from the Doyalist perspective, writing his lines in this way was intentional. It's part of the whole "Everything Jo says sounds like it could mean more than one thing" thing. He speaks poetically - it's intentional not just for the character but for the writer.

Okay, I'm done for now I'm sorry I just wanted to throw some added stuff into the convo bc I love applying my everyday usage of adolescent-focused trauma care and pysch shit to blorbos and seeing what sticks. Anyway, I also have a shit ton of thoughts on Masumi Arakawa as an abuse survivor but THATS another essay I won't dig into now. If I am still in your good graces after this long ass spiel I will consider it not only amazing but perhaps even cool as hell.

[ continuity of this ask ]

[aquariusxiv]

Out of nowhere got reminded of how she would justify ignoring my own words. Me clearly stating I wanted her to stop and to leave me alone were explained away as me not being able to know how I really felt, but she knew because of secret messages in my body language. And she is an adult and I am 15 and I have no way of knowing that this is probably absolute bullshit.

[special-misbehavior]

*casts a spell and turns Ima into a catboy*

*flies away*

"..."

"Honestly, it's not the worst thing that's ever happened to my body."

[eeriesilkworm]

Something Happened to Will in the Bathroom: and it parallels The Massacre at Hawkins Lab

CW: Implications of child abuse or possible CSA (non-explicit)

Will is a subversion of feminine horror tropes:

The Kidnapped Woman/ Damsel in distress

The Haunted Heroine

The Possessed Woman

The bathroom (in horror) is a liminal space to express exposure, transformation, vulnerability, terror and violence—especially for women.

Will has the most scenes of any character in Stranger Things which take place in a bathroom (Nancy is second).

Will's bathroom scenes are always associated with fear

Scene 1) Will + bathroom = scary Upside Down flashback

Joyce expresses concern and Will is dismissive (he lies).

Scene 2) Will + bathroom = The sense that something is wrong.

Scene 3) Will + bathroom = Joyce expresses concern (fear) and Will is dismissive again.

Scene 4) Will + bathroom + evil + "I'm not gonna hurt you" = fear

Scene 5) Will + bathroom + exposure = fear

Secrets and privacy

After Will is possessed by the Mind Flayer, Joyce expresses concern and Will is dismissive (lies) again.

Password = "Don't enter without my permission."

Mike: "Bathrooms are private."

Friends don't lie.

Mike: "Friends tell each other things that parents don't know."

Grooming

El is groomed by both Dr Brenner (Papa) and Henry.

Threat + coercion = a key + secret agreement

"Do exactly as I say."

Hopper: "He had a key, right?"

Joyce: "You think I don't know what goes on under my own roof?"

Secret meeting = "Be quiet." + "It's going to be a bit scary."

"If he finds me, he will find you." = "If I get in trouble, you get in trouble."

(Threat + coercion).

Manipulation + coercion = compliance

The illusion of choice: "This was your choice."

El complies with Henry's wish—but was manipulated into thinking it was her own idea.

El gets the sense that something is wrong (in a tiled room...)

Walkie talkie = communication

Friends don't lie + Friends tell each other things that parents don't know

Mike: "Bathrooms are private."

Confirmation and affirmation that something is wrong.

Henry's hair and appearance changes = "I see you differently now."

The abuser's true colors are known.

"You tricked me." = "He made me do it."

Resistance

El fights back and succeeds (she has superpowers)

Will tries.

1979—The first gate is opened

The doorway (gate) is opened by a key which emits energy.

Gate = wound: opening vs healing

Psychological wound = trauma

Memories are lost but the trauma is still there.

1983—The second gate is opened

El attempts to make contact with Henry (Dr Brenner's orders)

Will has a lightbulb moment (realization, recognition, illumination).

1984—Will is diagnosed with PTSD

Will's reaction when he encounters the Mind Flayer:

Anxiety—goosebumps and the feeling of being “frozen” in fear

The inability to “breathe or talk or do anything”

A sense of evil and impending doom: "I felt this evil, like it was looking at me.”

“Looking at me” = exposure + invasion of privacy.

Will reveals the Mind Flayer does not want to kill him—it wants to kill everyone else.

Henry did not want to kill El—he wanted to kill everyone else.

Homophobia and victim-blaming

Ted: "You see what happens?" = victim-blaming mentality

What happens = "He was probably killed by some other queer."

Lonnie = used to say Will was queer

Lonnie: "That boy was never very good at taking care of himself." = victim-blaming mentality

The implication? This is just what happens when you are queer, and Will should have defended himself better.

El was blamed too (despite being a victim)

"What have you done?" = what she was coerced into doing by an abuser.

The blame is internalized

Will = feels like a mistake. El = feels like a monster.

El's powers alone were not enough to make her feel like a monster:

It's her fragmented memories of the Hawkins Lab massacre (and internalized blame) that made her feel that way.

Is Will's queerness alone enough to make him feel like a mistake? I don't think so, actually:

It's his fragmented memories of the bathroom (and internalized homophobia and blame) that make him feel that way.

1987—The gates will close

The story isn't over until the gate (wound) is closed (healed).

In 1987, Henry/ Vecna and the Mind Flayer will be confronted and defeated.

And when that happens, El and Will will finally have the chance to heal.

Henry abused and killed children. El is going to protect and save them.

(She will not become the monster he is).

Lonnie blamed Will’s abuse on his queerness. Will is going to save Hawkins—with his love for Mike.

(His queerness is not a mistake).

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eight

authors note: so....i like cliched shit, so there's some of that here. hope it's not too much. this one is also very heavy at points, so please read the warnings, but it def has its moments that help progress the plot. also, the book referenced is a real work that we often use in therapy with survivors of sexual trauma. an excellent, powerfully healing read. i own neither the book nor the excerpt used.

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

cw/tw: references to csa, aftermath of csa, character being triggered, scene of violence/torture, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 12k (i clearly don't know how to stop. it is what it is)

It's out of our hands We can't stop what we have begun

---Leann Rimes

“Clarke.”

There’s a heavy sigh followed by continued writing, icy blue eyes focused on the report before her instead of the irksome man before her, no doubt giving her those ‘fuck me’ eyes that would be an HR nightmare if HR actually did any fucking thing at this precinct.

She finishes her quote before asking with all the intentional disinterest, “what do you want, Reed?”

His question, as well as his intrusion by her desk, is expected. “why aren’t you joining the rest of us for the luncheon today?”

It’s none of his business, and Danica has no issues telling him that in intentionally vague terms. “Got somewhere to be.” 

Finally looking up, she sees Reed’s gaze go cold. “Where?”

Danica drops her pin and answers in the sweetest yet nastiest voice she can muster before 10am. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the Miller girl is being released from the hospital today.”

Reed is just as confused as he is stupid. “Who?”

His obtuseness shouldn’t surprise nor irritate her, but it does. She remembers every single case she’s ever worked, and she’s certain this one will always remain at the top of the list. No matter how far she gets into her career. “Solana Miller. Xavier Miller’s daughter. The home invasion—”

“I know.” Reed’s almost relaxed, nosy disposition has entirely shifted. “Captain said the case was closed. Kid doesn’t want to press charges.”

“That kid is fucking traumatized. Don’t put that on her. Xavier is the one refusing to let us proceed.”

Reed leans forward, harshly whispering, “keep your fucking voice down, alright? Miller is…..he’s not someone you want to piss off. If he says we don’t run it, then we don’t run it, got it?”

“And who the hell is he to decide how the law works?” Clarke is also leaned over her desk, almost a month worth of pent up frustration with the lack of justice bubbling to the surface. “You read that medical report. You were on the scene. You don’t beat a grown man the way they beat that little girl. She could barely fucking walked. Dragged herself to a neighbors to ask for help. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“But she is, okay?” He’s also matching her energy, just as passionate about blatant injustice as she is for said justice. “The best thing to do for that kid is to let her go home, heal, and move on with her life.”

And that’s the part that almost breaks her, that almost makes her shift from her role as an advocate to the survivor within that so deeply identifies with Solana.“You really think it’s that simple? Like she can just go back into the house where she was raped and almost killed and pretend like nothing happened?”

“No, I don’t know, Clarke, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I’m moving on and picking my battles wisely.” His voice switches to something ominous. “And if you knew what was good for you, you’d move on too.”

Aware of the underlying implications of his warning, she calls his bluff, “you threatening me?”

“Believe it or not, I actually do like you, Danica, but you’re playing a dangerous game.” Reed’s voice lowers again, and Danica almost feels like he’s trying to be genuine. “I know you’re still new around here, so let me give some free advice. Xavier Miller is a dangerous man. He’s got friends in places you don’t want to find out about. Leave this alone before you’re the next mutilated body we find floating in the river, alright?”

________

Danica Clarke has always been stubborn, a trait she’s certain will lead to her demise, but if this is the route that brings her to said demise, she’s okay with it. 

Danica waits in the doorway, aware of how knocking can be alarming. She waits and assesses for the moment Solana’s gaze is close enough to where she won’t be as startled. “Hey there, pretty girl….”

Sure enough, Solana jumps a bit, and Danica is pleased to see the swelling on her face has gone down tremendously and the bruising has started to fade to an almost flesh toned color. She looks less at death’s door than the first time Danica was introduced to the 12-year-old.

“Can I come in?”

As expected, Solana doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly. 

Danica moves to sit in the chair on the side of the bed. “Heard you were getting released today….” Danica studies Solana carefully, adding kindly, “may be kinda nice to have a change of scenery.”

Solana remains quiet, but Danica has been around enough survivors, remembers her own survivor story, to know that nothing feels nice or good in the immediate aftermath. There’s just numbness and pain. No in-between.

“I’m so sorry there’s nothing more I can do to help you, Solana. I really am.” And she means that with every fiber of her being. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve justice, and I wish there was more I could do, but….my hands are tied.” Danica’s only been at this precinct for less than six months, and while asking to be transferred won’t be a good look when evaluations roll around, she doesn’t give a fuck. She can’t serve with bastards who would let sick fucks like Solana’s attackers walk around freely. 

It’s too repulsive.

“But, I do…..I want to give you something.” Danica reaches into her backpack and pulls out something she hasn’t had to look at in years. A book, thick, with yellow, paperback binding. The edges are a bit worn, and certain parts are highlighted, but it’s still just as powerful nonetheless. “When I was….a little younger than you, I was raped too.” Danica sees Solana’s gaze lift up, surprise and shock written on her face. “And it wasn’t until I was a freshman in college that I started to heal and finally process what’d happened to me.” Danica’s lips press together. “The counselor I saw in college, she gave me this book, and it changed my life.”

Solana looks down, reading the title, typed in big, black letters: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.

“I wanna read something out of it for you, if that’s alright?” Consent, especially now, is everything, so Danica waits patiently for Solana again to nod, permitting her permission to read. 

With a deep breath to also prepare herself for revisiting the past, she begins reading a passage that Solana can see she has highlighted. 

“I know you're in a world of pain, but that pain will lessen. At the beginning you can't see that. You can only see your pain and you think it will never go away. But the nature of pain is that it changes— it changes like a sunset. At first, it's this intense red-orange in the sky, and then it starts getting softer and soften. The texture of pain changes as you work through it. And then one day, you wake up and realize that life isn't just about working through your abuse; it's about living, too.”

Danica looks up to see Solana sniffling, wiping at her eyes. She’s tempted to reach and take her hand, but she also knows better, knows that the last thing this child wants is to be touched.

“I want you to have this, Solana. I want you to take it, and when you’re older, when you’re ready to reclaim your voice, and you will, I want you to read every word in here. From cover to back cover. You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. You don’t feel it now, but you have to believe it.” Her eyes gloss over. “Don’t ever stop living, Solana.”

“Solana.”

Flashbacks and memories from that time of her life don’t happen often, and it’s an intentional thing on Solana’s part.

She doesn’t like thinking about that part, but this certain memory has now revisited her a total of three times now. Twice in a dream and now in the middle of a conversation with Bayley and Naomi.

That…..that can’t be a coincidence.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing seems like the most appropriate thing until Naomi shakes her head.

“Roman said we’re not supposed to accept or condone you apologizing for anything, so imma pretend like I didn’t hear that, sis.” 

Roman….

He confuses her. 

He’s certainly unlike any man she’s ever met. And though that number is far from generous, he’s still the anomaly. 

After essentially rejecting what was an….interesting, unfamiliar, different experience between the two of them, she expected him to be upset. To be frustrated. To be absolutely all over her baggage. To ignore her.

But, that’s not what happened, none of that has happened. Instead, he’s carried on like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away from him in near tears. 

Like they didn’t….like they didn’t almost have a moment.

He’s stayed true to his word in that he’s met her every day after work in the week that’s passed. And while the first day was awkward, mostly on her part, they’ve fallen back in that same confusing yet peaceful space. 

Confusing yet peaceful…that seems to be the theme since the day she said “I do.”

It’s not uncomfortable nor unpreferred over where she came from.

It’s just…..different. 

“Oh—okay.” Solana doesn’t know what else to say but notices that Naomi looks like she has something else to say but is hesitant. “Is—is everything okay?”

That seems to be the door that paves the way for said conversation.  “I’ve been thinking. You’ve come a long way. Like, you’ve really got the basics down, all the defensive positions, even fluidity of movement.” It’s leading up to something, Solana is certain of this, but it also means a lot to her that Naomi believes she’s progressed. Doing well with this or even retaining Naomi’s training is something she never saw for herself. “I want to advance you to learning attacks. Solana’s stomach starts to tighten. “With weapons.”

And there it is.

Solana winces. “Weapons?”

Bayley sighs, joining in to help Naomi present her case. “We wanna teach you how to use knives.” Solana’s stomach tightening quickly morphs into twists and knots. “Hear me out, please. I know….I know that’s gotta be a sensitive thing for you, and I totally understand why, but knife fighting is a really great skill to have, even if just to have one on you at all times and know how to use it if need be.”

“And let’s be honest, Roman isn’t going to let anything happen to you to where you would need it, but still.” Something tells Solana Naomi isn’t wrong about that. That neither woman is wrong in what they’re saying, but just the conversation brings back flashes of that night, the night that left the physical and mental scars she still bears now.

Bayley offers a sympathetic smile. “Just think about it, okay?” Solana can do that. She will do that, just….maybe not right now.

And she doesn’t have to because Roman and the twins suddenly enter the gym space. Solana’s stomach tightens seeing Roman shirtless, a sight that’s happened a couple times now, and each time doesn’t seem to make it any easier on her nerves. If anything, it gets worse.

“Whassup, ladies.” Jey greets, clapping his hands as he asks, “ya’ll ready for tonight?”

“Tonight?” Solana speaks up, not directing her question to anyone in particular, but Bayley is the one to answer. “What—what’s tonight?”

“Night of Champions.” She then goes on to explain. “It’s one of our annual wrestling events. Naomi and I are competing.”

Curious, Solana turns to Roman. “Are you fighting?” 

Jimmy, however, is the one to answer. “Soso, Big Dog don’t do these events no more. Not very often anyway, but he’ll be there.”

“Can I come?” Solana directs her question to Roman, knowing that it will be his call. He eyes her unexpectedly. 

“You want to?”

She nods, referring to the group. “I—I wanna see them fight.”

It also feels like the right thing to do, to support the two women who’ve been nothing but supportive of her since day one. Even Jimmy and Jey with their often inappropriate comments about her body and continuous praise over her cooking abilities. It’s still always been very respectful in a strange sort of way.

Roman steps towards her, and Solana finds that it takes a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his and to not gaze downward. Him being shirtless before her doesn’t help with the attraction she’s still trying to wrap her head around and navigate. 

He lowers his voice, asking, “you sure?”

She’s confused only for a second when she remembers why he seems to be ensuring this is what she wants. This will be the first time Solana has returned to the Warehouse since Grayson and Austin’s attack, since she caused a whole scene that resulted in the whole damn place being shut down and Roman sending a grim message to all.

For a second, she backs away, retreats from her initial desire. Briefly tells herself that this isn’t what she wants, but that other distant voice in the back of her head, not as present or loud, seems to win the battle this time around.

“Yes,” is the final answer she settles on. “I’ll be fine.”

Roman nods, informing. “We leave at 6:30.”

Solana starts to wonder about what this night could entail when Jey suddenly expresses, “It’s kinda nice outside. I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Get in that aquatic cardio.” 

Jimmy also cosigns this after sharing a quick kiss with Naomi. “Oh shit, yeah, lets’ do it

Roman is instantly annoyed, asking with all of the exasperation. “Don’t ya’ll have a pool at your houses?”

“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Jimmy answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He then looks over at Solana, asking, “you joining us, Soso?”

And that, not the idea of returning to the place where she was almost attacked, is what brings on the heavier anxiety. Once upon a time, Solana loved the pool. Swimming with her mom on hot, summer scorching days used to be some of her favorite memories. Now, those memories are plagued with flashbacks of being held under water, a form of torture implemented by her brother.

“N–no.” Solana catches Roman’s gaze on her, the way his eyes dip to her running her fingers against the sides of her workout pants. “I—ummm—I’m going into work for a little bit today, so I should get ready to go.”

Roman speaks up first, skeptical.  “I didn’t know you were going in today.”

“I have to take care of something.”

Solana being vague is new, it’s unfamiliar, and it doesn’t feel the best to lie to him in a sense. Even if it’s less a lie and more a vague answer. 

There is something she needs to take care of. She just has no desire or even ability to tell him just what she needs to take care of, because that would mean she has to tell him the why, and that is something she’s never discussed with anyone and has no desire ever to.

________

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I haven’t written you as much. Life has been….very confusing and different, but not bad. I think….I think I like living here.

I like Bayley and Naomi. They’re so nice to me. I think you would like them too. Bayley is Mexican, so we talk in Spanish sometimes, and I love that because it reminds me of us, mama, all our conversations and writings.

Jimmy and Jey, Roman’s cousins, make me laugh. They’re also nice to me, and they really like my cooking, your cooking. I still use a lot of the recipes you taught me.

I finally have a dog, mami! Her name is Dulce. She’s so sweet and little and adorable. Roman got her for me. 

Roman…

He’s not what I expected. I don’t….I don’t understand why he’s nice to me. Cause that’s what it is. That much I’ve finally realized. He’s….nice to me. 

I’ve never had a man be nice to me. 

We had….something happen a week ago. I still don’t really know how to describe it, just that he was touching me, not even inappropriately. And I think…..I think I liked it, but then I got scared because it was like….it was like it wasn’t him touching me. It was them. 

And I….I hate that. I hate it because it’s miserable feeling this way. Wanting something but not wanting it. Being scared of something but wanting it. Desiring to be close to someone but not wanting that either.

I feel so torn sometimes. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about that book the detective gave me after it happened. There’s gotta be a reason I kept it all these years. I think….I think I want to read it.

I don’t know what to expect, and I’m nervous because I don’t like thinking about it, but I can’t, I don’t, want to keep living like this.

I can’t.

________

When Solana asked to attend Night of Champions, she was thinking it would be similar to WarGames. A foolish assumption. It is in the sense that the arena area is packed, not a single seat unoccupied, the boisterous sound of loud chatter and music serving as a backdrop against said chatter. That’s all the same and unchanged.

What is different and what Solana should have thought about was the fact that the two women who made her feel so comfortable last time won’t be there this time, because they’re competing. And so are the twins. 

And Nicki is apparently upset with Jey—a recurrent theme, it seems—so she also won’t be present.

That leaves one person.

Roman.

Solana didn’t think about the fact that she’d be seated with Roman. It’s not as nerve-racking as it could be, as it probably would have been almost three months ago when this whole new, unexpected chapter of her life began. 

But, it’s still a bit anxiety inducing.

She doesn’t miss how Roman’s grip on her hand remains firm on hers from the moment he helps her out the SUV, his eyes again taking her in the same way he did when she met him back in his office to tell him she was ready to go.

Solana initially felt unsure of herself given the fact that Naomi and Bayley could only pick out her outfit, shoes, and accessories for the night but couldn’t actually help her get ready given the fact that they were competing. Solana struggled to navigate her hair, as always, pinning it up on her head, and her makeup definitely isn’t as nice as the night of WarGames, but it mostly covers up her facial scar, and that’s all that matters.

Still, she must not look completely awful because Roman did not hesitate to give her a slow one over followed by a muttered “damn” and more vocalized, “fuck, you look good.”

She’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s said that now, and each new occurrence still gives her the same butterflies as the first time.

Roman escorts them to their seats, the twins and Paul already being present. Jimmy is the first to speak, whistling loudly.

“Damn, Soso. How we supposed to fight and you distracting us looking all fine and shit?”

“If you want to live and make it to the actual fight, you’ll shut the fuck up.” It’s hard for Solana to tell just when Roman is being completely honest with his cousins or just deadly honest with his cousins. 

This is one of those moments. 

“Thank you.” She doesn’t know what else to say, what kind of response is appropriate to something that isn’t as so.

Roman then motions for Solana to sit down and easily props his big body down in the seat right next to her. Their arms are nearly touching, but she tries not to think of that. Tries to distract herself by asking the twins, “shouldn’t you be in the locker room?”

“Naw, we fight toward the end of the night, so we like to assess with Roman till then.”

“Assess?”

While Jey was the one to provide the initial answer, Jimmy handles the clarification. “You gon be a member of the Warehouse, you gotta earn that shit. That means doing your thing in the ring. You ain’t cutting it, you out.”

Solana nods, quietly. It makes sense. Roman seems like a man with high standards. “So…you all have the final say?”

Jimmy takes a sip of his beer, shaking and nodding his head toward his cousin. “Naw, that’s all Big Dog.”

Solana glances at her husband who’s focused not necessarily on the conversation at hand but the preparation for what’s sure to be an eventful night. 

“If you don’t mind, My Tribal Chief is trying to focus here.” Paul’s voice, equally nice as it is nasty, reminds her of his presence. For some reason, she’s surprised by said presence, though she shouldn’t be. It’s clear the Wise Man is an important asset to Roman. 

“Whassup, my dogs!”

Just then a lanky man comes over to the group. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘honorary uce’ and has wild red hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. Solana takes a second to look at him, finding him strangely familiar. It’s then she realizes that he fought with Roman, Solo, and the twins during WarGames.

He goes for some kind of special handshake with Jimmy, then Jey, and finally Roman who looks like he’s contemplating murder rather than wanting to return the greeting. He quickly plays it off, “that is well—okay my tribal chief, and—wow—” Him turning to Solana, finally noticing and acknowledging her, is an experience for the both of them. She notices his initial gaze sets on her chest which is uncomfortable but not entirely unexpected given the style of her dress. Still, she shifts in her seat, uneasy with the attention. “Those are—-ummm—” His eyes go wide, as he moves to backtrack on an obvious Freudian slip. “I mean, it’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am, or Mrs. Reigns, or your highness. Whichever you prefer is a-okay with—“

“Sami.”

His shoulders hunch and head drops in shame, like he already knows what’s coming. “Yes, Tribal Chief?”

“Go sit somewhere else.”

This Sami person doesn’t even hesitate, confirming he already knew he fucked up in the less than five minutes he was present. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Solana watches, still partially confused but also kind of amused as he wastes no time in departing. 

Paul then leans over, chatting away, “I told you, my Tribal Chief, I never liked Shmuel. He’s always been so beneath you. I understand he makes easy collateral, but—“

Roman sighs loudly. “Wise Man.”

“Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Go join Sami.”

“But……” Solana looks over at Paul. His expression is one of devastation, like he’s just been told he had six months to live. “I—I always sit with you for Night of Champ—“

“Wise Man.”

Paul swallows. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“I’m not gon tell you again.” Roman finally looks over at his closest advisor, forcefully enunciating and instructing, “go.”

Similar to Sami, the Wise Man walks off with his tail between his legs, leaving just Solana, Roman, and the twins. 

She has no idea where Solo is. 

“See, now you ain’t even have to do all that, Big Dog. You be getting yourself all upset over nothing. You need to start doing some deep breathing or shit, then maybe you could get off them high blood pressure pills.” 

It’s that last part that Solana zones in on, that makes her turn to Roman, “you have high blood pressure?”

He lifts his eyes, dismissing, “it’s nothing.”

“Can’t—can’t that be dangerous?” It’s not necessarily a question she needs him to answer. Solana is well read on a variety of subjects, especially subjects pertaining to physical health. High blood pressure can mess with a lot of things, a lot of organs. Eyes. Brain.

Heart

Jimmy is the one to chime in, asking with that typical tone of humor. “Soso, you do know what he does for a living right?”

But, it’s hard for her to find said humor when all she’s thinking about now is how certain meals she’s prepared for him could maybe not be the best for his high blood pressure. How she could be exacerbating that.

Feeling pressured by her inner monologue, she offers, “I can change how I cook for you.” And she can. She probably will, making a mental note to peruse through her mom’s recipe books that would be more aligned with the type of diet he probably needs. “I know there’s certain things you probably shouldn’t eat—”

“Solana.” He interrupts, but it’s not with that same irritation he had towards Sami and Paul. “I’m fine. My numbers weren't that bad. The doctor is just being over cautious.”

She wants to believe him, wants to not be as…bothered by this as she is, but something tells her Roman isn’t unlike most men who downplay these sorts of things.

Letting the conversation go, her determination to help him maintain his health remains. 

The conversation shifts to a dialogue between the twins and Roman, the three men conversing in Samoan. She doesn’t mind this, as it also allows her the space to catch the gaze of Bayley and Naomi who look freaking amazing in their gear.

“Soso.”

“I swear to God, if you call her that one more fucking time—”

Jey, possibly foolishly, waves off Roman’s threat. “You understand Yeet, right?”

Blinking twice, she asks, “what?”

“Yeet,” Jimmy says it too, like it’s as basic a word as they come. “Our motto.”

“I—” Honesty is a bit easier with her husband’s cousins. “N–no.”

“Man,” Jey makes a sound with his teeth and jumps right into the explanation. “It’s like a way of life. Like, you yeet when life going good—”

“—when life going bad.”

“—or when you leaving.”

“—or going.”

“It’s a way of life.”

Jimmy and Jey playing off of each other for their presentation is entertaining, at best, but it doesn’t leave her any less confused than she was just a minute ago.

“I—I still don’t get it.”

And that, for the first time, is when Solana hears Roman laugh. It’s not something she ever thought possible, but it’s there, his handsome face turned into an amusing expression as he expresses vindication. “I told you it was fucking stupid.”

“See, I thought we was close, Soso. I thought we was becoming family and shit, but I see you a hater like your husband.”

At that, Jey punches his brother on the arm, reminding with a rough mutter, “man, she be cooking, don’t be fucking up our good thing.”

“Aww shit.” Jimmy quickly moves to backtrack. “I mean, I could see your point.”

Conversation continues as such until the start of the night, Solana watching as the three men around her easily shift into an almost business mode. Their gazes are almost intense, watching closely as matches begin.

Solana partially expected to have to sit and remain quiet for the evening, but certain moves, similar to what Naomi and Bayley have taught her, catch her attention. And it must show, because Solana finds herself occasionally being asked by Roman if she has any questions or if she understands why a fighter did a certain mood.

Some she can answer. Some she cannot. 

So she asks him.

And he answers all of them, clearly, concisely, in a way she can understand.

If Roman is irritated by any of her questions, he does a damn good job not showing as such. And to her credit, she does her best to take a guess vs asking outright with certain things, pulling from her time with Bayley and Naomi. 

And in certain matches, she’s fully immersed in watching their expertise that questions aren’t even a thing. Like the tag team match between two of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, Jade and Bianca, as Roman called them. Same with Naomi and Bayley who independently show her a side of their ruthlessness she figured existed but hadn’t seen firsthand until tonight.

“Do you all learn how to fight when you’re kids?”

“More or less,” Roman answers, and Solana has a hard time not staring, not being caught up by how handsome this man really is. “This life….it’s kill or be killed. So to not be killed, you learn how to fight. How to survive.”

Survive…

Solana has such a complicated relationship with that otherwise simple word. 

“How come….how come you don’t fight as much?” She’s wondered about this, come up with speculation but would like to know for certain, especially as he seems to be in a relatively decent mood.

Like most things, he keeps his answer nice, simple, and vague. “I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

“Did–did you?” He looks over at her, and warmth rises back as she tries to clarify. “At some point, I mean.”

Again, it’s a one-worded response. “Yes.”

She’s not entirely sure just what he’s saying ‘yes’ to, but a full blown out explanation was never expected. He doesn’t seem like the type. But something more would have been….nice. Granted, Solana realizes she’s probably pushing her luck in asking all these questions anyway and sits back in her seat, relegating herself to focusing on the current match.

The chill of the arena makes its reminder yet again as Solana crosses her arms over her body, trying to warm herself. The man beside herself notices this, accurately assessing, “you’re cold.”

True to her nature, Solana shakes her head, downplaying the fact that she is very much cold. “I’m fine.”

Downplaying or being outright dishonest is clearly something Solana would do well to push away, because it seems like this man is capable of seeing right through any and all lies.

Roman shifts forward in his seat and removes his jacket, reaching it to her. “Here.”

Rejection would be rude. It would also make her feel even more bad than she already does at inconveniencing him. Still, her options are really singular, meaning there are no others. Only one.

Mustering a small smile, she accepts his objectively kind gesture, sliding her arms through and adjusting as best she can given their size difference. Warmth overcomes her as well as the scent of his collage, something masculine, almost minty. It fits him.

Silence befalls them for a comfortable while before Solana excuses herself to use the bathroom, Roman only nodding in acknowledgment. 

It’s in walking down the hall that Solana sees Jade and Bianca chatting away, admiring their championship belts. The taller of the two, Jade, happens to glance her way and smiles, exclaiming, “Girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress!”

“Absolutely killing it,” Bianca also compliments, her smile just as genuine and affable. 

Solana is certain she’s just staring dumbly for a good couple of seconds, because such a compliment from two objectively stunning women towards her was the last thing she expected. 

Descending off her shock, she offers an equally genuine smile and expression of appreciation. “Thank you so much.”

The compliment keeps that smile planted on her face. It’s so unexpected but deeply appreciated.  

Solana dries her hands and tosses the used paper towels in the trash. It’s a brief glance at herself in the mirror that serves as the start of the slippery slope, landing her back in a brief state of uncertainty. The dress is so revealing, much more revealing than anything she could or would ever wear. But it’s hard to think or sit too much in that discomfort when the night has consisted of several compliments. Sami, Jimmy, Jey, now Bianca and Jade. Not to mention the biggest one, or maybe the one that gives her the most butterflies, coming from Roman. 

“Fuck, you look good.”

Her smile shifts from something more silly to something a bit more bashful, her cheeks warming at someone as handsome and powerful as Roman Reigns thinking that she looks good.

Thinking that she’s beautiful.

A toilet flushes from the only other taken stall, and the door opening reveals the perfect reason why Solana should have just went straight back to join Roman instead of having a mental discourse in the bathroom.

Samantha’s long, shapely legs are the first thing Solana notices along with the way her dress melts to her toned, curvy body. She looks good, and she has to know that she looks good. A woman like her probably has men lined up by the dozen, Roman being at the front of that line. 

Samantha’s dark lips form into a smirk as she walks over to the sink. “Surprised to see you tonight.” She moves to wash her hands. “After that not so little incident a while back, I figured that was the last day you’d step foot in here.”

Solana swallows. She’s managed to not think about that day since it happened. Samantha bringing it up is definitely salt on an open wound. “I—umm.”

“Nice dress. A lil snug though. Maybe go up a size next time?” Her voice, so sweet and sugary, is also venomous and knowing. “Or two.”

Solana’s hands naturally move to her stomach, forearms trying to block the part of her body she hates the most and is certain Samantha is primarily referring to.

“Sage, right?” She doesn’t give Solana a chance to respond. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”

Something tells Solana she’s not going to like this advice. 

Samantha dries her hands and walks up to Solana. “I know you’re Roman’s wife, but you can’t seriously think that means anything to him, right? It’s just a title, and he’ll defend you only because it’s defending his pride.” Solana tries to not put too much into Samantha’s hurtful words, but it’s hard not to when Solana knows Roman continues to be intimate with this woman, even after their marriage. She can’t blame him for that, though, especially since he’s definitely not getting it from her. Still, it does sting a bit. “Trust me, I’ve known him very well since we were in high school.” Samantha smirks, chuckling. “So, I would know.”

“Bitch, you don’t know shit.”

The last voice Solana expected to enter the conversation was that of Nia’s. But sure enough, Roman’s’ cousin stands near the bathroom door, arms crossed over her body. 

Samantha’s expression sours tremendously as she icily greets the other woman, bigger, stronger, maybe even prettier. “Nia.”

Nia ignores the greeting and comes to stand near Solana, immediately going in on the slender women. “If you know him so well and you supposedly mean that much to him, how come it’s not you with a wedding ring on your finger?” Solana says nothing, keeping her gaze down, but it doesn’t stop her from also thinking about that very valid question. Just why didn’t Roman marry Samantha? “Or better yet,” Solana glancing back up allows her to see Nia’s cruel smile. “Why is it Solana’s name he said when he was fucking you?”

What?

Solana is visibly shaken by that because where in the hell did that even come from? There’s no way that can be true. No way Roman could be in bed with someone like Samantha and say her name. 

But Samantha is visibly disturbed, lip almost curling into an almost snarl as she spits, “fuck you, Nia.”

“I’d call you Solana too, so I don’t think you’d want that.”

Samantha storms out of the bathroom without another word leaving Solana alone with Nia, Solana who is still trying to process what was just said and finds herself asking Nia. 

“Is—is that true? Did you—did you really hear about Roman—ummm—”

Typically, Solana would keep her questions in the safety of her mind, but this…..this feels almost impossible to not seek clarification on. 

“You know he’s my cousin, right?” Nia looks visibly disgusted but still answers her question. “I would never make something up like that about family. Samantha is a blabber mouth that doesn’t realize she shares her shit with that dumbass best friend of hers, Tiffy, and the whole town knows.”

The answer is appreciated, but it still leaves Solana with so many questions. 

“I—I don’t understand.” Again, it’s something meant to stay inside but manages to slip past the cracks. 

“God, you are naive.” Nia rolls her eyes and explains while crossing her arms. “Sweetie, if a man is balls deep in Woman A and says Woman B’s name, Woman A is not who he wants.” 

That seems almost inconceivable to Solana. For Roman to think she looks good and maybe even consider her beautiful is one thing, but for him to desire her in that way is something entirely different.

She doesn’t know what to do with this information.

“Don’t let that skinny bitch get to you.” Nia seems eager to switch the conversation to something different. “She’s a pussy. All bark and no bite. Remember, you have the ring on your finger. You just have to put her in her place one good time, and she’ll leave you be. And if not, let Roman know. He’d never hurt or kill her himself, but he’d definitely ask me to, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to snap that bitch’s neck since high school, so you’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Solana can’t allow herself, or maybe more so doesn’t have the capacity, to think about that right now. She’s still trying to get a grip on chapter one. Still, she offers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Nia, turning to leave when the taller woman says her name. Solana turns back around. “Yes?”

Nia sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know you think I hate you, but I don’t. I may hate how soft you are, but I don’t hate you.” Nia then smirks with an almost playful add on of, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”

________

As expected, Roman is immediately asking what took so long the second Solana is back in her seat. 

Her excuse is weak. She tells him that there was a line, but it’s the best thing she can come up with on the spot. His expression is all the answer she needs that he certainly doesn’t believe her but will let it go.

For now. 

The rest of the night seems to be more of a blur, Solana now more consumed with trying to wrap her head around this newest bit of information. 

The twins end up finishing off the event with a brutal but successful match where they, as expected, retain their tag team titles.  

Solana could see this, understandably, pleased Roman. 

And outside of some constructive criticism towards Jey and Jimmy, Roman expressed his desire to leave as soon as they got cleaned up, which took less time than she expected. He’s guiding them, her, out to leave, her hand still in his, when a thickly accented voice calls the attention of the man beside her. 

“Roman Reigns.”

Solana can barely turn around to the source of the voice when Roman’s muscled arm is stretched across her body, moving her behind him, his big body serving as an impenetrable shield.

Because of their height difference, Solana can’t see a whole lot outside of the instant shift of security and even the twins toward whoever this person is. 

“How wonderful for you to bless us with your presence so soon after WarGames.” The man scoffs, clearly trying to bait Roman. “What is this, the second appearance in how many years? Hell hath fuckin’ froze over.”

Solana catches a brief glance of the mystery man and gasps. He has an imposing figure, similar to Roman but there’s something cold about him, something….sinister. 

“How dare you acknowledge the Tribal Chief—” Roman lifts his hand to silence Paul. 

Roman simply states, “talk.” 

“You know what I want, Reigns.” Solana hears a footstep and notices how Roman makes a subtle movement that results in the twins also moving closer towards her, shielding her from this man. “You don’t deserve that title. You may have been a fighter then, but you ain’t now. You’re about the Bloodline, and I respect that, mate, but the Undisputed title deserves to be with someone who defends it more than once a fucking year.”

“So what, you think you the one who gon’ take it? Man, we outta kill your ass right now for talking out your neck like that to our Tribal Chief!”

Solana hates being unable to see Roman, to see his face, to be able to gauge and read his facial expressions. He’s an enigma of a man, typically oscillating between irritated, angry, and indifferent, but not having the option altogether to know where he currently lands is bothersome.  Especially with what comes out of his mouth next.

“Do something.”

Solana freezes. That….that can’t be good.

“You standing up on me. You make a good tough guy face. Do something.”

Solana’s fingers tap against her side, that familiar knotting in her stomach returning. She glances over at Jey who seems to also be a bit confused by Roman’s response.

“Uce—”

Roman ignores him. “Go on. Pull it.”

Jimmy speaks up this time, rough voice quiet but urgent. “Roman, we got Solana here—”

“Come on. Make it happen. What’s different? Ain’t nothing changed. Think back to the last time you challenged me.” Solana hates when Roman moves away from her, because it means he’s a step closer to this man, this man who seems determined to pick a fight with the Tribal Chief and may get just that. “Think about it. I whooped you then. I’ll whoop you now.” Roman speaks with such a confidence about him, the most violent, straightforward promise of sure brutality she’s ever heard from a man. “Ain’t nothing changed.”

Solana isn’t necessarily thinking about what she’s doing when she suddenly moves herself in between Roman and this man who’s apparently hellbent on getting her husband riled up. It’s another unconscious act as she plants her palms against his chest, both relieved and nervous by how his gaze instantly drops to hers.

Solana licks her lips and finds herself pleading in an unexpectedly calm yet typically soft voice. “Let’s just go.” His initial expression of fury and simmering anger seems to lessen the longer he looks at her, and Solana adds on, desperately. “Please.”

This act of boldness is completely unplanned and entirely stems from Solana unable to stop thinking about how Roman being so upset all the time can’t be good for his blood pressure. It can’t be good for his health. 

And for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, that bothers her. It concerns her. 

Him not being healthy concerns her.

What does not surprisingly concern her is when Roman moves his hands down to her hips and almost gently moves her to the side, forcing her hands to drop. She expects him to lunge at the other man or to scold her for interfering, but he does neither.

He steps toward him and simply states with all the coldness, “you’ve got your match, but I set the date when I want it.” Solana’s more or less holding her breath, waiting for Roman to strike the man, or worse. “But know this, McIntyre, you step in that ring with me again, I’m not just ending your career this time, I’m ending your fucking life.”

Roman’s threat sends uneasy chills down her spine. There’s no mistaking Roman’s promise, something she’s certain he will be sure to fulfill.

He then takes her hand again and moves her to the side opposite of the man who looks like he hates Roman as much as Roman probably hates him. Solana is almost entirely eclipsed by Roman’s big body as he walks her past the ordeal.

The car ride is a bit uncomfortably silent, Solana recognizing that Roman is still seething from the exchange but most likely waiting until she’s out of his vicinity to express that rage. 

But, it's when she’s walking back in the house after letting Dulce do her business that Roman catches and speaks to her. 

“Solana.” He’s leaning back against the counter, big arms crossed over his muscular body. He’s so….big. “What happened when you went to the bathroom tonight?”

She can’t be surprised, can’t feel caught off guard by his question. It’s still not something she necessarily wants to talk about or knows how to discuss, but she’ll do the best she can. 

“I ran into Samantha.” Taking a deep breath, she tries her hardest to keep it vague but still an acceptable answer. “I don’t—I don’t think she likes me.”

At that, Roman nearly growls, “what did that bitch say to you?”

Solana winces at his tone. “It wasn’t that bad…”

He’s quick with the dismissal and redirection. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“She just—she just talked about my outfit, that—that was it, because Nia came in there, and well, I don’t—I think Nia might hate her more than she hates me.”

Roman sighs, running his hand over his face. “I’ll handle Samantha.” Before Solana can protest, he adds, “Nia doesn’t hate you.”

This brings a small smile to Solana’s face. “That's what she said.”

Roman also looks slightly amused by this, studying her for a second. “Solana.” The surprises keep on coming, because he takes an unexpected turn in the conversation. “I almost lost my temper tonight.”

This….this feels true. His issuance of threats were delivered in an almost calm manner, but it was more deceptive than anything. Like a setup for violence that was potentially about to unfold if she didn’t interfere.

Still, nothing ended up happening, so it doesn’t make sense for him to act like it did.

“But, you didn’t,” she points out quietly, offering a bit of an olive branch. “And….you were upset.” 

Solana would maybe argue that he’s always in varying states of upsetness, but that’s not the point of the conversation at hand. 

“I have no shortage of enemies, Solana.” His voice takes on a darker, almost subdued tone. It makes her previously amused expression slip into something more somber. “But, I need you to know that I would never do anything that would put you in danger. Drew wanted to issue his challenge. That’s it. He wasn’t going to do anything, because he wants an audience for that. I had it under control.” Solana isn’t questioning that nor did she plan to, but Roman’s next question definitely takes her for a loop. “Were you scared?”

It’s a valid, understandable question that she didn’t think about until this moment. There was anxiety, maybe some element of fear but also concern, so she decides to play down the first two. 

“I wasn’t scared.” It was more concern than fear, which, in her mind, are two different things. “Just….confused about what was happening.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His dismissal is nicer than what anyone else would receive. “Of me, Solana. Were you scared of me?”

Another valid question that she’s actually been thinking about on and off for the past few weeks. Solana would like to consider herself not naive to a lot of things about this life that she was born into. She knows that most of the people who surround her are killers. And Roman is no different. The king of that, maybe.

But…..

But, he’s done nothing thus far to make her ever believe she would ever be subjected to that side of him. If anything, he’s worked to stress and help her understand that she’d never be hurt by him. And adding up all of the things he’s done to support said message, Solana feels it only appropriate to be honest with him. 

About more than just his question.

“When—-when the twins asked earlier today if I wanted to go in the pool, I got nervous because—-” Solana displays her textbook signs of discomfort with the stammering and playing with her fingers but still manages to get out what she wants to share. “Wes, he used to…..hold my head under water until I almost passed out.” Solana looks away for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “That……that’s who I’m afraid of.” Solana manages to set her gaze back on Roman, almost confidently assuring, “I’m not scared of you, Roman.”

He steps toward her, and Solana’s eyes never leave his, mindful of the way his hand lifts, tensing when he rests it against her face, palming her cheek almost gently. Solana stiffens but easily shifts into something not calm but not on edge either. “You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, of anyone. I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”

And for the first time, she believes him without the speck of doubt and uncertainty in the backseat. Solana has seen nothing from the man before her to indicate otherwise. She doesn’t know a lot of things regarding him, regarding them, regarding just why he’s so hellbent on defending her, but one thing she’s realized is that he’s intentional and determined with his dedication to protect her.

This is similar, very similar, too similar to that night where her fears got the best of her, where she was unable to overpower the discomfort and fear. But, this isn’t that night, and Solana doesn’t feel that building dread in the core of her stomach. It could be the fact that it’s only one hand on her, cupping her face. Nowhere else.

It could even be a very early sign that maybe, just maybe, that book she was given so long ago really does have the healing properties someone from so long ago once promised. 

There’s even her conversation with Nia from earlier that sits in the back of her mind, the undeniable confirmation of Roman’s attraction to her. Enough to where he would say her name during that.

Whatever the case, she doesn’t move away, just nods quietly, slowly moving away from him. 

“I’m—I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

Roman says nothing, also nodding as acknowledgment, watching as Solana grabs Dulce and disappears out of his sight but not the front of his mind.

________

The Reigns estate is as spacious as it is grandiose. There are several ways and paths to reach a destination. 

So, Roman doesn’t have to pass Solana’s room to reach his bedroom. There’s an alternative route in coming from where he was working, but he decides this specific way for reasons he’s not entirely sure of.

It ends up being a good decision because it’s in walking past her door that he hears low scraping against said door. Instantly, he knows it’s Dulce clearly needing to go outside. And she confirms as such with her soft whimpering. 

Rolling his eyes, Roman opens the door just enough for Dulce to run out, stopping when she sees it’s him. He glances at the bed to see Solana sleeping, open book on her chest, indicating she fell asleep while reading.

Dulce whines again, and he chides quietly, “be quiet before you wake her up.”

Dulce’s ears go down as Roman picks up the puppy that’s still too little to walk up and down the steps, hence needing human transportation. It’s annoying, but he brings her down the steps and out the backyard. 

Settling her down, he instructs, “go on. Do whatever you gotta do.”

He’ll give the dog some credit where credit is due. She’s far more obedient than he expected for a puppy, because in less than 10 minutes, she’s emptied her bladder and is being carried back to Solana’s room. 

Roman is careful to lay her little ass back in her bed, aware of her bristle looking legs that would probably break with one bad drop. 

Rising back to his full height, he catches Solana turning on her side, the shift in position causing the book to slip and almost fall out the bed, but Roman is fast, catching it before the crash and potential disturbance can wake her up.

Naturally, he glances at the front cover, noticing the age of the book. But the aging look doesn’t mean shit to him when he sees the title and a piece of paper that clearly has Solana’s handwriting. He doesn’t read that, wanting to respect her privacy, but he definitely reads the title, and it instantly shifts his entire mood. 

The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse

It shifts his mood from his default state or irritation to quiet rage. 

There’s only one reason she would be reading this book, working out of this book. And it’s not that he didn’t already know she’d been violated in one way or another. Her medical records confirmed as such.

But, he was thinking she was a teenager, not any better, but definitely not a fucking child.

Someone hurt her when she was still a child, a literal goddamn kid, and this is something Roman cannot find it in him to avoid investigating. He’s always been a man uncomfortable with unanswered questions, and there are no shortage of them in regards to Solana. Not that he would ever put her in a position to answer them. No. He wouldn’t do that to her, would never make her share something like that with him.

But, he does know someone else he can demand answers from. 

Two people, actually. One of them being shit out of luck after narrowly avoiding Roman’s wrath from earlier today in learning that he fucking tortured Solana.

Roman carefully places the book on her nightstand and makes sure Dulce is still in her bed on the other side of Solana’s before quietly closing the door.

Roman is down the hall, powerful strides taking him to his room as he pulls out his phone, dialing the one person he knows for a fact will answer his call at any time. Hitting dial and switching it to speaker, Roman tosses his phone on the bed to get dressed. 

Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.

Roman jumps right into it. “Meet me at the Miller house. Get your brothers.”

Solo only pauses for a second, answering in that stoic voice, “we’ll be there in 30.”

Not good enough. 

“Make it 20.” 

________

As expected, Roman is met at the Miller house by his cousins, all three.

Slamming the car door shut, Roman hears Jimmy yawning loudly. “Man, why the hell is we here?”

Ignoring his older brother, Solo straightens his stance and informs, “I had Pearce disable the security system.”

“Good.” It’s the fact that Solo already knew to do so without being told. Moments like this is when Roman knows he made the right decision promoting and moving Solo up the ranks. He’s more than proved himself.

“I have questions. Miller has answers.” Roman’s answer there is intentionally vague. Solana’s trauma is no one’s business but her own, and just because he is also aware doesn’t mean he needs to broadcast it. “And Solana told me today her brother used to waterboard her.”

“Waterboarding? Like actual fucking torture?” This information seems to awaken both the twins, eliciting angry reactions. “What the fuck is wrong with his ass?”

“We killing them, right?” Jey, forever the hothead and also relatively equal with Roman in terms of how quickly he travels from zero to one-hundred, is the first to ask the most obvious question.

“No. Not tonight. That would be too easy.” And it would. Roman meant that shit when he said he wanted their asses to suffer. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make living easy for them.”

They don’t deserve to live, let alone living easy lives. Not when they’ve done everything seemingly possible to make Solana’s miserable.

Roman then looks towards the twins, instructing, “take care of the brother.” It’s not a necessary directive, but he doesn’t hesitate to add, “make him fucking suffer.”

He then motions for Solo to follow him, the men headed toward the house as Roman swears out loud, “Xavier is mine.” 

Roman steps back as Solo waits zero time in shattering the large window in the living room, providing an entrance for the men. Roman grabs his gun, nodding for the twins to move first, followed by Solo, each man armed with a gun. It’s unnecessary, Roman is certain as they’re more likely to find father and son in the midst of illicit acts vs prepared for the onslaught headed their way. 

Up the stairs and on the second floor, Roman quietly motions for them to split up, Solo and the twins to the right while he moves to the left, the most likely location of the master.

Solo seems to give him an uneasy expression, but Roman simply nods and heads toward his target.

Xavier is his.

The combination of the brothers works just as Roman predicted, them successfully locating the brother’s bedroom, confirmed by his horrified shout of ‘what the fuck! 

It’s followed up with a shout of pain and Jey yelling “Get your bitch ass up!” and “Solo, fill up the tub!”

Pleased, Roman is standing directly outside of Xavier’s door when the older man rips the door open, face contorted in a mixture of shock and anger. That quickly morphs into fear when he realizes just who is responsible for this attack. 

Roman brings the gun across upside Miller’s head, watching the man fall down and writhe in pain, holding his hand against his now bleeding head. 

Undeterred, Roman reaches down, yanking the man up by his neck as he jolts his body against the nearest wall. “We need to talk.” Straight to the point and not in the mood for any bullshit this fucker may try to spew his way, Roman demands,  “I want to know what the fuck happened to my wife.”

And there’s a brief but telltale sign that Xavier knows exactly what he’s referring to without Roman even needing to elaborate. 

That only pisses him off even more. 

Still, Xavier stutters, shaking his head, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Roman gives a bitter smile, shaking his head and scratching his beard. It’s the last thing he’s certain Xavier sees before Roman again has him up by the collar of his pajama shirt. 

“You really want to play these fucking games with me?” It’s a no. It’s a hell no, but Xavier insulting Roman’s intelligence by lying to him indicates the opposite of no. So, Roman will treat him as such. “Who the fuck touched Solana?”

His question is followed up by screaming coming from down the hall, the beautiful sound of a piece of shit getting exactly what he deserves. 

“What? Ain’t so tough now, little bitch! Like to beat on women but a pussy when it comes to fighting another man!”

And while it could bring a smile to Roman’s face, Xavier looks horrified in hearing Jimmy’s taunts. Instantly, he’s pleading, pathetic and pitiful, “pl—please.”

“I’d torture and kill that bitch right in front of you tonight if I could.” It pisses Roman off to no end how this man can care so much about his demented son but not give a flying fuck about his innocent daughter. “Now, answer my fucking question, who touched Solana?”

Again, Xavier decides to test Roman’s patience, offering unasked information. “She—she was a virgin before she married you.”

“I don’t give a fuck about her being virgin or not!” She could still be a virgin and have been touched. But truth be told, that shit’s never mattered to him anyway. Virgin or no virgin, it’s always been an irrelevant deciding factor to who he took to bed. “Tell me what happened to her or I’ll blow that bitch son of yours fucking brains out right in front of you—”

Roman pulls the gun from out of the back of his pants, knowing full and well that while he would love to empty the entirety of it in the scum before him, it’s better served torturing him in another sort of manner.

Mentally.

And it does the trick.

“Alright, alright!” Xavier finally caves, sweat bubbling across his wrinkled forehead. “She was raped, alright? Two men broke into the house when she was 12 and attacked her. Beat her real bad. They—they never found them. Okay? That—that’s the truth. That’s what happened.”

No. Not fucking okay. Nothing is fucking okay. Roman wanted answers, felt like he needed them, but knowing the truth, it doesn’t do shit but paint his vision red. 

He knew something happened to her. 

He just didn’t know how bad.

Raped. 

Beaten. 

Twelve.

And then another thought hits him, the absolute terror on her face that day when she was faced with what should be the most simplest thing for a person: going into their childhood bedroom. 

Roman remembers her fear, the dried blood, the scratches on the wall. 

It all makes sense.

She was attacked in her fucking bedroom.

The thought of a child being hurt at all has never sat right with him, but to be hurt in that way. As a child, and for that child to have been Solana. 

He’s fucking breathing rage. 

“Where the fuck were you, huh?” Roman jerks his body back against the wall, half ready to break this fucker’s neck. “Answer me!”

“I wasn’t home!” Xavier’s sweating has progressed into droplets from his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and shirt. “I—I was out on a fishing trip with Wes.”

A fishing trip…..

This man was out enjoying fucking nature with his dimwitted offspring while his daughter was at home alone fighting for her fucking life.

“You left a 12 year old home alone?” It keeps getting fucking worse. “How long was she alone!” Roman is fully prepared to risk snapping this motherfucker’s neck when he spits out a desperate answer.

“A week. It was just a week.” And if it makes a fucking difference, he desperately adds on, “I—I’d done it before, and she was fine.”

Xavier is either stupid or very stupid, because Roman can’t conceptualize how this imbecile would think the additional information makes it any better. 

Solana was hurt.

She was hurt in the worst way possible, and it’s all his fault. 

With all of the aggression in his body, Roman throws the piece of shit across the room, intentionally aiming for the glass coffee table that instantly shatters under the weight of his fat ass.

Without a second of fucking hesitation, Roman fires two shots directly into Xavier’s body, one in his right hand and the other in his left foot. Xavier’s shouts of pain do little to dull the unadulterated rage coursing through Roman’s body.

Shouts morph into tiny, pathetic whimpers as Roman slowly walks through the broken glass, tossing his gun to the side as he pulls out the brass knuckles in his back pocket. 

“I told Solana I wouldn’t kill you until she gave me the word, and I’m not going to take that from her.” He crouches down besides the now crying older man, crying in the way Roman is certain Solana did when she was alone and helpless. His fury is practically bubbling over now as he coldly vows, “but that doesn't mean I can’t make your life a living fucking hell until then.”

________

Roman walks back into the house with a weight he can’t shake, even with the brutal carnage he unleashed on the Miller household, leaving father and son on the brink of death. That type of violent release typically abates his anger, and it did diminish a lot of it, seeing that piece of shit pummeled into a bloody, broken mess.

But Roman is still plagued with thoughts of the hell Solana endured living in that household. To be attacked in that way in her own home, in her fucking bedroom, it makes Roman want to get right back in his SUV and carry Xavier and his equally piece of shit over the doorstep of death.

But, he couldn’t do that to Solana, take that away from her. He’s just the executioner in this situation. He’ll let the day of reckoning be determined by her because that’s the least she can get. 

Coming straight back home, Roman didn’t bother to stop and get himself cleaned up. His guards have seen much worse, and Solana is asleep, so that’s not a concern either.

But, it is a concern because in an almost scene of deja vu, Solana is most certainly not asleep. She’s sitting on the sofa, Dulce right beside her when she hears his heavy footsteps. 

Roman doesn’t have time to say anything, too stunned by this happening yet again, even later than he’s returned before. 

Why is she up?

Solana jumps up off the sofa and is suddenly standing across from him, her face painted in what’s obviously a moderate to tremendous amount of worry and anxiety. 

But, she isn’t looking at him. Not really. She’s more so focused on the blood stained and splattered clothes that adorn him.

“You’re hurt…..” He’s heard her say it the last two times they were in this type of situation, eerily similar in a lot of ways, but this time….this time is different.

It’s different because she rushes over to him, her hand floating over his chest, one place, two place, another place. Like a plane trying to find a safe space to land, she’s unsure where he’s hurt and clearly overwhelmed by it all.

And then he sees it, the blurry overlay of water over her eyes and the slight tremble of her lip.

Roman steps towards her, trying to be respectful of the distance between them. Her discomfort with touch makes all the sense now. “Please don’t cry.” And this is yet another new, unfamiliar, unexposed territory for him, seeing her so distraught at her belief that he’s been hurt. The way that the thought alone clearly wrecks her.

Roman quickly notices the changing of her breathing pattern, heavier, rhythmic almost. 

“Shit…..”

Roman has heard this song before.

Realizing this is a matter of de-escalation, he does what’s needed in the moment and brings his hands to her face, cupping her face.

“Solana, breathe, baby.” The term of adoration isn’t even something that really registers with him at the moment, not an intentional addictive or something he gives two fucks about in this moment, really. He’s solely focused on settling the woman in front who’s on the brink of a panic attack.

He can’t see her deal with that again, especially now that he knows just why she had the first one.

Roman has no hesitation in pushing away loose strings of her hair, never once taking his focus off her. “I’m fine, Solana. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood.” Recognizing she clearly needs to see it, he moves back to lift and toss his shirt on the floor. “See?”

And that seems to do something for her, something to help settle the panic. 

Roman watches her and forces himself not to think about the heat that fills him at her hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s all so innocent. Recognizing her breathing has settled into something less alarming and more familiar, he moves his hand over hers, reiterating once more, “I’m fine.” He waits for her to finish taking a deep breath to ask, “why are you up?”

This has to be the third time Roman has come home at an ungodly hour to find her waiting for him, and he’s trying to figure out what the real reason is. 

She licks her lip, clearly working her way up to a response. “Dulce had to…..had to use the bathroom, and I saw you weren’t here, and you didn’t answer my text.” Roman curses himself. He was so caught in his uproar that he didn’t even bother checking that thing, never expecting for Solana to be the missed notification on his lock screen. “I just…..I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Roman has heard this part before and tries to navigate how he wants to push back on his belief that it can’t be just that, but Solana surprisingly beats him to it. “I get….I get worried when you’re not here at night and—-and I can’t sleep until—-”

“Until I’m back….”

He has a good guess why. She was attacked in the middle of the night, and he’s also pretty certain he remembers reading that the attack that killed her mother also happened at night.

“Solana…..” For the first time in a while, if ever, Roman is active in his attempts to explain this to her as gently as he can. “What I do…who I am…I can’t always be here.”

“I know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to bother you—”

“You could never bother me, okay?” He wipes away more of her tears, hand back to cupping her face, realizing she’s not going to pull away from him this time. He takes full advantage of that. Roman moves his other hand to the small of her back, holding her against him. It’s not missed upon him how she also brings her other free hand to his chest. “But, I always make it back, alright?” She nods, as he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Can’t no man put me down.”

She smiles, a little laugh that does more to him than he’d like to admit, that he feels comfortable with. And this settles him. It settles him more than nearly killing her dad and brother for hurting her, directly and indirectly, did. 

Solana nods, murmuring a quiet, “o–okay.”

He’s studying her. Closely. Maybe more than what’s necessary. It comes from a place of concern, and he’d admit as such. “Are you good now?” 

She nods again, and he believes it enough to let her go, watching her start to walk away when he’s caught off guard again because of her body, so soft and warm, against his again. Her sweet perfume filling his senses, her arms around his neck.

She’s hugging him. Solana is actually hugging him. He can’t remember the last time someone did that shit.

But he doesn’t waste a second of time accepting her embrace that seems to end just as quickly as it began. He can’t be surprised or upset. This is big for her, obviously, and he would never push her past her comfort zone, but he also can’t deny that the absence of her in his arms is noticeable. 

And uncomfortable.

Solana murmurs a rushed goodnight and grabs Dulce to head back up the stairs, Roman eyes never leaving her until she’s completely out of view.

Roman stands there for a few good minutes, unsure of what just happened, working to process the same unfamiliar feelings that coursed through him the last time they had a moment like this. It’s the same as before, just ten times stronger, more intense, more consuming.

Unsure of a lot, two things he knows for asbolute fucking certain:

He’s going to find Solana’s rapists and make them pay for every sick fucking thing they did to her.

There’s not a fucking force on earth that could take this girl away from him.

She’s his.

And he’ll protect her with everything in him.

No matter what the cost.

[mayasaura]

i hope u dont mind me asking but where is it implied john is a survivor of childhood sexual assault?

Yeah, I did kind of just throw that one out there, didn't I? The implication is spread out across a combination of John's backstory and behavior, especially in Nona the Ninth.

cw for discussion of sexual coercion, csa, and systemic abuse in an academic setting

Let's start with his behavior. Mercy and Augustine spent five hundred years planning Dios Apate Major down to the last detail. Luring John into bed was clearly not an easy thing to do at the time. And while a lot of worse stuff came to light in the big reveal scene in Harrow the Ninth to overshadow it, what Augustine and Mercy did was a violation of John's bodily autonomy and a form of sexual assault.

So where is that behaviour coming from?

The next time we hear from John, he's on a binge drinking hypersexual spiral, turning on a dime from five hundred years of near-celibacy to sleeping his way through the full cast and crew of the Erebos. I love a good "he fucked that old man" joke as much as the next guy, and I intend to keep making them, but that kind of zero to sixty manic behavior is a pretty common response to triggered sexual trauma. There's something happening there.

Very early on in Nona, John recites a list of his schools. First on that list is Dilworth. Dilworth is a private school for economically disadvantaged (read: poor, and majority indigenous) boys, and it has a reputation. To quote its wikipedia page:

John attended that school as an academically gifted gender non-conforming indigenous boy with no support network. His only known family died of pneumonia while he was enrolled. He was a vulnerable target in a high-risk environment.

A class action complaint is currently underway against Dilworth School seeking accountability and compensation from the school for knowingly failing to protect students from systemic sexual abuse that occurred between 1970 and 2006.

This wouldn't be enough to come to a conclusion if John were a real person, of course. If John were a real person, we'd be out of bounds in speculating. But he's not a real person, he's a character whose life and backstory were deliberately crafted. Name-checking Dilworth in John's backstory was a choice, and I think the implication is pretty clear.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

So this post:

…is a lovely and well-thought out essay, and I don’t want to clutter its notes.

But to me (voted most likely to assume the curtains were just blue), there were some much more obvious, and more disturbing, implications to this painting’s presence in Mason Verger’s dining room.

CW for non-explicit mentions of CSA, incest, and child abuse below the cut.

After the Bath by Paul Peel, 1890.

We can all agree it’s creepy AF that Mason Verger has this painting, right?

1. The children in the painting are nude, and (as the better essay linked above pointed out) in an implicitly vulnerable position, possibly unaware they are being watched.

It is heavily implied (during his therapy session with Hannibal in s2) that Mason sexually abuses children at his summer camp for underprivileged youth - it’s something he basically boasts about to Hannibal (right before Hannibal delegates Will’s dogs to eat his face).

2. The painting is of two siblings - a boy and his younger sister.

It is heavily implied, from the first scene where we meet Mason, that he has sexually abused Margot.

So… yeah. In that context, the levels on which Mason is likely enjoying this painting are extremely unpleasant to contemplate.

[sammyycain]

Sam Winchester and Themes of Sexual Assault, Bodily Autonomy and Impurity

Sam Winchester from the hit 2005 CW show Supernatural is a much overlooked character, by fans and the story itself. Despite being one of the main characters in the show he and his problems are often sidelined in order to make room for more popular characters like Dean and Castiel. This leads to a lot of his problems not being taken seriously and played as jokes by both the show itself and the fandom. Sam’s entire story is deeply routed in themes of bodily autonomy, sexual assault and the resulting feelings of impurity. However these themes are often sidelined and played as jokes due to him being a man.


The theme of sexual assault is shown very early on in the show, staring with Sam’s encounter with the demon Azazel (often referred to as “Yellow Eyes”). In the show Sam and Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester makes a deal with Azazel in order to bring her husband back to life, thus giving him “permission” to do what he wants in 10 years. This choice culminates in a 6-month old Sam being fed demon blood by Azazel, thus starting the pattern of Sam being groomed in one way or another by almost everyone in his life. Mary walks in on Azazel and Sam, leading to her death which sparks John Winchester into his obsessive hunting for the demon that killed Mary. The implications of this scene are made abundantly clear in the later interactions between Sam and Azazel where the latter refers to what happened between them as “their little secret.” Azazel also implicates Sam in his mother’s death through the line “she walked in on us.” This line is a blatant innuendo and forces Sam to place even more blame upon himself than John did. Sam’s attitude towards this whole encounter is one of clear disgust and shame which is shown when Sam says “So he could bleed in my mouth.” This line especially implies CSA (child sexual assault) as it shows just how little agency Sam has had over his life.

These themes continue throughout the series as both Sam and Dean have suggestive remarks made towards them by various supernatural creatures. One example of this in the first episode when the woman in white attempts to force herself on Sam in order to make him become unfaithful to Jess. While this is brushed off very quickly in the show, it sets a precedent for the tonality of the show regarding sexual assault towards its main characters and Sam in particular. This comes up again in a scene where the demon Meg has both of the brothers tied up but focuses specifically on Sam, making suggestive comments towards him and touching him inappropriately. He looks extremely uncomfortable throughout this entire exchange. Sam is then possessed by Meg in a later episode, with possession being used as a metaphor for sexual assault throughout the show, especially in relation to Sam, she then uses Sam’s body to harm his family and friends, making suggestive and threatening comments to them while doing so. In fact, most of Sam’s romantic and sexual interactions with female characters are non-consensual on his end. While these are all played for laughs because of Sam being a man, they are horrifying when looked at through any other point of view. An important example of this is the character Becky Rosen and her interactions with Sam; when Sam asks Becky to stop groping him it’s played entirely for laughs despite Sam looking immensely uncomfortable. In a season 7 episode Becky drugs Sam with a love potion, strips him half naked and ties him to her bed. This is often referred to as a funny episode both in the show and by the fandom, further cementing how the show refuses to acknowledge Sam’s trauma.

The themes of impurity due to CSA and grooming reappear during season 4 when Sam is in a relationship with the demon Ruby. She, in a way heavily reminiscent of Azazel encourages Sam to drink her blood in order to gain powers or so she tells him. To me, this entire relationship had the opportunity to explore Sam’s trauma in a creative and interesting way, and despite not doing this, Sam and Ruby’s relationship still portrays many interesting themes such as addiction being used as coping mechanism and the desire to take back agency after being assaulted. Through Ruby’s encouragement of Sam’s consumption of demon blood, he forms an addiction and starts to associate demon blood with sex, something that had the groundwork laid for it when he was a child. This plot line is especially interesting to me as it seems to be heavily reminiscent of the way many trauma survivors seek to have the same or similar experiences on their own terms as a way of taking back control from their abusers. Throughout Sam’s relationship with Ruby he is being groomed into opening Lucifer’s cage and letting him, thus giving way to the next important theme in Sam’s story: his lack of bodily autonomy and feeling like his body is not his own.

Themes of bodily autonomy play heavily in season 5 when Sam is pressured by everyone around him into giving up his body to Lucifer in order to bring about the end of the world. Eventually he does do this, using the last of his mental power to throw Lucifer back into the cage, thus resulting in both of them being trapped inside. Sam’s body is then brought back to life, leaving his soul to be tortured in the cage by Lucifer. It’s heavily implied that Sam was also raped during this year with Lucifer. When Sam’s soul is reunited with his body, he beings to hallucinate Lucifer and being back in the cage, with the only way to stop these hallucinations being to cause himself pain. This is once again played as a joke by the show, making Lucifer a funny and charming character, subsequently meaning that the fans perceive him as a likeable character, once again causing everyone to sideline Sam’s trauma. Another instance of Sam’s bodily autonomy being ripped away from him is when Dean helps the angel Galadriel trick Sam into letting him possess Sam. I’m in no way attempting to apply blame to Dean as he was also tricked, however he also trivialises his brother’s experience in a particularly shocking exchange after Sam managed to get Galadriel out of him. Sam says that Galadriel left some of himself behind but Cas fixed everything up, Dean then makes a joke saying that it sounded like an episode of teen moms; this conversation further displays the way that no one in the narrative takes Sam’s trauma seriously.

In conclusion, Sam Winchester constantly has his bodily autonomy taken away from him in many different ways throughout the show. He also has his struggles and feeling of impurity trivialised and played for laughs by the writers, actors and fandom. He is referred to as a freak and abomination due to his trauma and never has any of his problems resolved in any meaningful way. Sam Winchester could have been a much better character if he was not so overlooked and joked about.

[dennisboobs]

i should also mention that i suspect the four erotic memoirs posted to paddy's pub blog (and adapted into the dvd extras) were presumably written by marder and rosell, possibly cowritten by glenn who also wrote 4x09, and had by this point had already established dennis' trauma with older women in The Gang Gets Whacked

and who specifically brought it up again in the script for The Gang Gets Stranded in the Woods

which is another contributing factor that causes me to believe that this isn't just coincidence.

i don't think i've discussed this on tumblr before outside of a few offhand mentions, but a while back i put together scraps pointing to the fact that all of dennis' erotic memoirs were written while he was in high school, primarily backed up by the fact that the two additional memoirs posted on the official paddy's pub blog as well as the other two that were adapted into a dvd extra, which either directly mention this

(which makes him 16-17) and explicitly ends with him allegedly having sex with multiple adult women and a tiger, or implies it – dennis saying he drank 12 mugs of "mead" then later saying it was "brandywine", which is very much not mead while also specifically mentioning a non-alcoholic beer sign. the NJ location of medieval times opened in '90; he mentions going with A Companion (which was probably a date he drove there, not mac or charlie,) so I'd place this around the same time (16-17), after he got his license, but before he was legal drinking age.

when he first reads from his memoirs in 4x09, he narrates one that states "she was much, much older than me", and in the dvd extras he also recounts sleeping with a "matronly" japanese woman who also ended up being a "good deal older" than he had thought she was, and notably says, "nestled in her ample womb, i became a man" which has. certain implications.* in the second dvd extra he also says "i'm pretty sure i was her first" re: the random woman who he's picked up, which i'd say was originally written and intended to have taken place when he was significantly younger. obviously the reenactment has them both as 30-something yr old adults, but smut film also has him reprising the role of his 14 year old self, so it's not without precedent. he also starts off saying this is from chapter two, and the prior story was from chapter one, implying both are extremely early on in the memoirs

there's also the fact that charlie had stolen the memoirs for an unspecified length of time, long enough for dennis to comment on how long it'd been since he'd seen them. we can assume he likely stopped writing the memoirs entirely once he got his recording setup, which would've been around the time he moved in with mac somewhere around '98 when they bought the bar, putting him around 21/22. but the earliest memoir we know of dates back to 1991, when he was 14, then another confirmed to be in 1993/1994. additionally we only see him adding to the book when he's institutionalized (which is implied to have been some sort of hallucination, so it's arguable that even happened) and in the dvd extras (with a quill but no ink, so i don't know how that would've worked).

tldr; dennis sleeping with older women while underage was a pattern, possibly before klinsky, definitely after, and all but one of his memoirs seem to explicitly detail this abuse.

*i'm fairly certain this was his account of losing his virginity, and i believe this predates klinsky. if this truly is "chapter one" of the book, then it's more or less confirmed, but this memoir is also an interesting outlier because dennis actually has an emotional reaction after sex and goes back on his ~pinkie promise~ about not falling in love with her. just like with klinsky, she's portrayed as alluring (something that makes up for her age in dennis' eyes, also similar to the memoir snippet we hear him read in 4x09) and there's a heavy focus on her being motherly, but she is very much depicted as predatory as well (particularly via editing choices – clearly depicting her as a cougar – but also dennis' narration), with her seducing him, then Separating Entirely.

[eleventeenthealbum]

seejanerot -> eleventeenthealbum

Eleventeen is an album by Daisy Chainsaw. I like it. This is a blog and diary to me.

Nerd blog is @halfjewharlequinn

Anthro Blog is @religiousfurryism

I have a SECRET nsft blog that can be requested by mutuals.

READ THIS 👇

MAPS and "pro-para" types unwelcome. Incest lovers owe survivors everything they have. Fiction cannot cause abuse, but it can facilitate, normalize, romanticize, and eroticize it.

It happened to me. Please dni if you post sa based kinks I am very hyper vigilant and paranoid.

TERFS unwelcome. "Girl's girls" choice feminism and obviously "pro-para" unwelcome. We do real feminism here. Sorry for being crazy.

Block if you think the r slur is funny I'm over it. 🥰

♥️MORE DNI AND ABOUT BELOW♥️

DNI Radqueers/Terfs/swerfs/zionists we will not like each other. die.

Terfs are not real feminists, neither are radqueers or the most recent "pro para" (proship reloaded) movements.

"Purity culture" is very real and it's not the critique or discussion of sex or kink or fandom. It's the concept that the amount sex you have or who you do/don't have it with has an inherent implication on your personhood, particularly towards women.

LESS SERIOUS:

I'm a big big hater. I hate people who pay social media sites and I hate AO3. "Bi lesbian" is an oxymoron. Weebs are on thin ice. Rpf sucks, you're weird.

I like nonfiction, bad horror stories, FMV video games, Furryism, Animal Crossing, comedy, comics (mostly transformers and DC but I also love vintage comics, Love and Rockets, things by Lynda Barry, and Archie Comics), dolls, and Twin Peaks. Formerly ran the blog @Jewishharleyquinn before they got me.

I'm interested in court cases and nature + natural history

I want to be a fairy. I want to be a mermaid. I want to be very small.

You can ask me to tag things🩷 I use (trigger) cw except for "flashing"

Tw: csa + grooming

You might see me speak a lot on abuse fetishism online + in fandom. I was groomed online by a woman through toxic fandom, "loli" and other CSEM anime/manga, and a very twisted version of feminism and sex positivity.

It went on from ages 13-17, meeting online when I was just 12. She involved me and her foster sister. I have had a few other sexually traumatic experiences (some happening in early childhood that she connected with me on), but that was by far the longest and most twisted.

I started talking about this more when I realized others had been hurt in very similar ways.

I'm a grooming, incestous abuse, and sa survivor, these things also upset me greatly. If I interact first I apologize, please just block me. I say this because of my own negative reactions.

[nemuro-incinerator]

Kozue Kaoru is rattling around my skull again and I’m making it everyone’s problem. Putting my thoughts under the cut because of their nature. TW/CW for rape/CSA/statutory rape

From what I’ve seen of discussions on Kozue, something that rarely gets brought up is the implications of her walking off into the night with Akio in episode 26. While I’ve talked about the scene prior previously, I never got into what happens afterward. Considering the symbolism of Kozue’s broken (albeit functioning) leg, the fact that she refers to Akio as “Daddy Long Legs”, and Akio Ohtori’s entire existence, I believe, with the only slim shadow of a doubt being the inability to be 100% certain, that Kozue was sexually assaulted that night. This, of course, only adds to her parallels to both Touga and Anthy, but the way it’s completely overlooked by the show itself stands in peculiar contrast to both of them. Kozue displays hypersexual tendencies, so it only makes sense for her to happily walk off into the night with Akio Ohtori, right?

Of course not. Though it is never touched upon by the series, Kozue’s complete nonchalance about everything going on, as well as her general behaviors - her sexuality and use of it as a power play, her protectiveness of Miki to the point of attempted murder, and more - leads me to believe that this isn’t the first time this has happened. Divorce, parental neglect, and being forced into the spotlight, while certainly traumatizing, do not a Kozue Kaoru make. There’s something else going on there, and while it is Kozue’s business and Kozue’s business alone, it has clearly shaped her and her beliefs.

[btvs3x21]

... fuck it. preview from a mari character study i'm writing about why the fuck mari was so compelled to make up sex-based rumors about her assistant coach and call him a pervert pre-crash and what that says about the cave scene cw for csa implications throughout

Sometimes, Mari thinks her assistant coach might be staring more than he should at practice. She’s not totally sure. He never, like, stares at any of their boobs, but not every guy is a boob guy. And sometimes Coach Scott is just a little too nice to Mari. He has no reason to be nice to her. She’s an asshole to him. Literally, like, two weeks ago he had to give her detention because she told him “gym teacher” was Latin for “pervert failure” (which it basically is).

She doesn’t want to be alone with him. She doesn’t have to be most of the time. Her mom doesn’t have to pick her up from practices anymore. She just walks home or catches a ride with one of the other girls on the team now. It’s easier that way. Her mom doesn’t have to feel bad about it anymore, and Mari doesn’t have to…

She doesn’t know. She just likes it. The control. It makes her feel—whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Nothing bad has ever really happened to Mari. She just likes attention a little too much. It’s fine.

The whistle blows. Mari blinks and looks up.

Coach Martinez is done with his pep talk. Or criticism. She wasn’t listening. 

Mari gets up from her knee. She brushes grass off her leg before she turns to head to the locker room with the rest of the team when a warm hand grabs her shoulder. She stands up straighter like a jolt of electricity went through her.

It’s Coach Scott. “Mari, can we talk?”

She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to be alone with him. Her eyes dart around, looking for an out. Gen, Van, and Taissa all give her weird looks, but they don’t slow down to see what’s up. Coach Martinez doesn’t look fazed by this in the slightest. He just nods at them both and walks off. Misty fucking Quigley looks jealous as she huffs and gathers the equipment. Everybody knows all about her pathetic little crush on Coach Scott.

She can’t seriously think Mari, like, wants to steal her imaginary man or whatever. What’s her fucking damage?

“Uh, sure, Coach,” she says.

He finally takes his hand off her shoulder.

It’s like the first breath of air after proving how long you can stay underwater to your stupid cousins at the hotel pool. She rolls her shoulders just because.

“Let’s, uh, head to my office.” He starts walking that direction.

All Mari can think about is how sweaty she is. She doesn’t want to talk to a guy when she’s got sweat in her hairline and trapped under her sports bra and sticking to the backs of her knees. But… but Coach Scott isn’t a guy. Not like how Bobby Farleigh or Danny Mears are. Coach Scott is a guy like how her dad or her tío Coach Maratinez are. So it’s fine.

She follows after him and tries not to feel like it’s a death march. What is she even so worried about? All she has to do is not be fucking weird. Coach Scott probably just found out she’s the one who told everyone he’s got chlamydia after she saw him at the one Planned Parenthood in all of Wiskayok on Monday while she was trying to work up the nerve to go in and ask about making an appointment to get on the pill. It’s not that Mari is, like, a slut or anything. She thinks. But her period really fucking sucks sometimes, and one of the older girls on the team told her that going on birth control totally changed the game for her periods. Anyway, she didn’t even go inside after she caught sight of her coach there. She turned the fuck around and walked without any solid idea of where she was going until she found herself at the school her last soccer team used to practice at.

She’s still not sure why she walked there. Or why her eyes stung so much when she realized where she was.

Her period is coming up, so her hormones are totally out of whack. She doesn’t usually cry when she’s PMSing, but it happens. That’s probably why her eyes are prickling right now too.

Coach Scott holds the door to his office open for her. He looks at her kindly as he does it.

Is Mari kind of a bitch for wanting to do something to ruin that? Probably. But it’s fucking weird, okay? Sue her.

She glances down at the ground to see if there’s a door stopper she can casually slide into place—for the airflow; Coach Martinez’s office has way better air conditioning than Coach Scott’s. She doesn’t see one, and she’s already spent a weird amount of time looking, so she just comes in and lets the door close behind her.

“Take a seat,” Coach Scott says as he takes one behind his desk.

She does. Her knee is bouncing in a way that makes her look all jittery like she’s been pounding espressos or something. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, you’re not. I’m just… Mari, you’re a really good player.” He clasps his hands together as he says it. They’re nowhere near her shoulders or her hips or anything like that.

Mari’s stomach drops down about ten stories anyway. She wishes she’d looked harder for a door stopper. Everyone knows where she is. Everyone knows what’s wrong with her. She tries to open her mouth to say thank you like she knows she’s supposed to, but that’s not what comes out. “Uh, yeah, I made Varsity, Coach. I kinda figured.”

Coach Scott closes his eyes, but his eyelids kind of flutter as she makes this sound between a scoff and a snort. “Your confidence is good,” he says, and she can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh or yell. “But your attitude is terrible. On and off the pitch. You talk back to refs, you talk way too much trash to the other team, and you’re disrespectful to me and to Coach Martinez. In different ways, yeah, but still. I know he’s too fond of you to draw this line himself, but you have to remember that here, he’s your coach—and so am I.”

“I know that,” she says before she can think to shut up and slow down. It comes out mumbled and petulant and kind of pathetic. She hates herself for saying it at all.

But… she knows he’s her coach. She does. She’s so aware of it that sometimes she wants to throw her cleats at his stupid head. But she doesn’t do that! Shouldn’t that count for something?

Coach Scott sighs. “Mari, you can’t tell people I have chlamydia.”

She forces a smile. “You totally can’t prove that was me. Anyone could’ve seen you at Planned Parenthood, Coach Scott.”

From the look on his face, she’s made this worse.

“Okay… so maybe it was me. But it was just a dumb rumor. You’re an adult! Who cares if a bunch of teenagers think you have chlamydia? I mean, it’s not like you’re trying to get with any of us…” She trails off, feeling kind of sick.

“God, no. Of course not. It’s not about—” He rubs his temple. “Look, Mari, it’s about respect, okay? If you don’t treat me like your coach, then this doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?” Mari thinks she’ll feel better if he just fucking tells her why he needs this from her, but she’s also not sure there’s anything that will make her feel better except getting past this stupid bump in her fucking menstrual cycle or whatever.

“The team. You guys have to respect me for me to do my job. If you mouth off and gossip about me, then everyone thinks it’s okay to pull sh—stunts like that. Can you just… can you try to be less…”

“Less of a cunt?” she supplies.

He winces. “Language.”

She shrugs. She’s not sure that she can be nicer to him or whatever. “People say way worse about me. You should see the girls’ bathrooms sometime.” He really should. When Mari went to one of the restrooms at lunch, Laura Lee gasped and told Mari not to read what some bitch (Mari’s words, not Laura Lee’s—and she’s pretty sure it was Becky Colgate seeking revenge for that rumor Mari spread over winter break) wrote about her inside the door of the third stall. Naturally, Mari gasped and asked to hear it. Laura Lee refused to read it, but Van was happy to read off the rumor that had been written about Mari on the plastic toilet paper holder of the second stall: “Danny Mears dumped Mari Ibarra 4 his cuz after they all had a 3sum.” Van was sure to tell Mari about the shorthand because she’s a good friend like that.

Coach Scott unscrews the cap of a pill bottle and pops one. The gulp of water he takes it with seems like an afterthought.

Is he a pill popper? Is Mari supposed to not tell people that? He shouldn’t take them in front of her then. It’s his own fault that Mari’s going to tell everyone he’s got a pill problem and shouldn’t be trusted around teenage girls.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you that just because people say bad things about you doesn’t mean you should say bad things about everyone else?” he says.

Mari blinks. Her mom tells her a lot of things, but she doesn’t think that’s ever come up. It’s usually stuff about how she’s not doing some household chore right or she needs to help cook dinner so she better get her homework done before she calls any of her friends and paints her nails or she can’t walk around boys and men without a bra on even if she’s at home and the men are her uncles.

“Well, you shouldn’t say bad things about everyone else. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Mari hates the shame crawling up her throat. Maybe she won’t tell everyone about Coach Scott’s stupid pill problem. “Okay, Coach. Um, can I hit the showers now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to talk to you before you left.” He gets up, and Mari tries not to feel like a prey animal. He walks past her to pull the door open for her.

She nods jerkily and forces herself to walk instead of running to the locker room. She has nothing to be upset about. She’s clearly the asshole in this situation anyway. But, like, when isn’t Mari the one getting in trouble?

[kael-writ]

Im kinda obsessed with what Adrian Clairmont's backstory could possibly be. He was a "wicked, wicked man" Before Christ, but he did make bishop. And he is extremely fanatical. So he had to have sinned just enough in a certain capacity that still allowed him to be ordained in the Catholic church. Assuming he didn't lie (seems improbable that he wouldn't confess all openly in the sacrament of Confession as a true believer does). It's unlikely that means he was a criminal, at least not convicted.

If he had been a soldier that would be a very interesting BG because it would give him the ability to have done things like kill people that in no other circumstances could he have done openly and been ordained, and also it dovetails into his work as a Hunter. It makes sense he would be so good at it with that BG. But Im not sure that fits with how he speaks of a military vs a faith organization.

Adrian is, ofc, also just a very manipulative vampire conversion therapist. He could mean any number of things. He isn't necessarily particularly honest at this point.

He is bound for Perdition and still serving The Lord, so there is probably a baseline of personal conviction against outright lying but some allowance of all sorts of sin to get the job done. He clearly is willing to lie based on some of his actions, it just seems like he would consider that a sin to be used only in necessity.

There is also the question of why he was ex-communicated, what specific vampire hunter action he took that was forbidden. Or if simply being a vampire hunter period was the offense. Even though that is historic to the church in this fiction. What activities has he done with Society of Leopold /Gladius Dei or whatever organizations that would get him excommunicated?

Why does he believe he has no way to escape hell? Ex-communication in contemporary Catholicism is not condemnation to hell, it's not even necessarily permanent. It does mean you can't take sacrament in the community. But in contemporary Catholicism, God will forgive any repentant sinner. Perhaps the implication is that he has chosen to be unrepentant of sin and continue in sin just to fight vampires.

And again, he is extremely fanatical. An unwavering true believer. A committed servant of the lord. To the point of, arguably, matrydom. Yet disobeying god and the church to sacrifice his own soul for the cause?

Just a fascinating character study. Compellingly performed, but also brilliantly created to begin with. I think the backstory being unknown is certainly not a weakness, but it does effectively make you wonder about it, and thirst for more.

(CW: child sexual abuse mention here: For good reason, the fiction of the show obviously doesn't talk about the "elephant in the room" about the most notoriously evil thing that Catholic priests have gotten away with recently (CSA) because that's extremely fuckin triggering, it's not something anyone wants to think about while enjoying a ttrpg, but it's nonetheless hard to ignore that this is the organization we're talking about, and placing that past beside them both producing and ex-communicating vampire hunters draws into question what it takes for a bishop to get ex-communicated and why.)

[litlseraph]

I've been thinking for a while about my headcanons for Whitney's family life in my various saves. So, here's the ones that are consistent throughout them all: (Sorry if these are extremely out of character to some people; I'm hyperfixated on Whitney as a character and project a lot of my issues onto my favourites.) - His family consists of his mother, father, an older brother, and himself. - His father is a deadbeat alcoholic and domestic abuser. Due to his abuse, his mother ended up neglecting Whitney compared to his older brother. - His brother (I personally call him Jacob or Matthew) was a star student when he was in high school, being top of his class. This led to his mother and the teachers putting a lot of pressure on Whitney to be just like his brother. - I like to think that Whitney learned a lot of his behaviour from his father's abuse, as well as his anger towards his mother for neglecting him. - In one of my saves, my PC (Named Charlotte) and her brother (My partner's PC) were childhood friends with Whitney who later moved away around middle school, only to move back after their parents passed away. Whitney's father always hated Charlotte for, well, being a girl, and her brother for being 'too feminine'. Below the cut is a bonus headcanon. CW for mentions/implications of CSA & Spoilers(?) for Whitney's dismissal scene

I personally think that Whitney was abused in more ways than one as a child. To me, he was sexually abused by a woman and man in his life, so his dismissal event was a callback in his mind to that abuse.