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Bro what the fuck who the HELL thought this was okay putting random tags so more people can see this

DONT SCROLL THIS IS IMPORTANT!

im begging anyone who sees this post to prevent rapesexual, im begging you. no one will see this but if you do reblog to get the message out that these fuckers exist and dont deserve to exist heres the flag so you can know who to fucking block, report and tell to fuck off

i dont want this to ruin the pride and help with self esteem of being lgbtq+ so a signal boost from larger accounts might be nice

TW: Yandere themes, kidnapping, sex, fingering, spanking, homosexual relationships, bisexual relationships, polyamory

MOTHER FUCKING GAY ASS MEN WHO SET THEIR SIGHTS ON YOU AND TURN YANDERE AND KIDNAP YOU AND DRAG YOU INTO THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BE THEIR LITTLE SUBBY SUB.

You watch these men kiss each other. Love on each other. FUCK each other. And they bring you into the mix. Now, you’re in between these masculine and muscular bodies, just squirming because you haven’t adjusted to this new dynamic yet.

One is in front of you, playing with your tits and pussy. The other is behind you, nipping at your neck and groping your ass and probably spanking you as well.

But what can you do? You can only lie there and moan, writhe, buck your hips, hope a finger curls over your clit and gives it a tiny smidge of attention.

You hide your face in the sheets, only for the one in front to grip your jaw and turn you back to look into his authoritative eyes.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me. Got it?”

And you whimper and nod. And the one behind you slips his fingers into your pussy, and the one in front rubs your clit. You end up coming sooooooooooo fucking hard that it takes you a couple of minutes to recover.

But they’re not done yet. No, they still have to show you how BOTH of their cocks can fit in that tight and cute little pussy now that it’s all wet for them.

Say hello to your new life as the sub of two very dominant yanderes because you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

.... So, as it turns out, the user that recently "deactivated" his blog (the reason I currently have 1 less follower) is a fucking pedophile. Yes, a LITERAL PEDOPHILE used to follow me. THANK GOODNESS I decided to do some research on him, & found out from this post that the authorities possibly deleted his account & he's banned. I cannot believe I successfully dodged this bullet. And this is EXACTLY the reason why I'll never post pics & vids of myself on this app.

Side note: if you're one of those disgusting mfs, stay the fuck away from me. 🔪 YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU TRY TO INTERACT.

hey! i saw that the user 13randomdesi was reblogging from you and I’m sick of seeing him still around when he’s a pedophile who has and probably still is liking and interacting with content of a 14 year old. I’ve made a post before > https://cisa4ka.tumblr.com/post/688298067571703808/suavenotion-lockepiercingstattoos-art & a Mutual made a new post: https://cisa4ka.tumblr.com/post/688753177480314880/xiaocrowned-is-at-mainxiao-now

Oh shit, thanks for letting me know!

So people already knew about him & his reality... Omg. I had no idea because his likes & following pages were hidden. I'm just happy his blog's deleted and banned. Phew✌

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Six – Obliterazione Delle Anime}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words:

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter contains dark, sadistic, disturbing, and triggering scenes with detailed, graphic descriptions. A warning has been placed at the beginning of the triggering content.⚠️

TRANSLATION

obliterazione delle anime: obliteration of souls

Sono il tuo nemico dall'inferno: I'm your enemy from hell

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

Heaven's POV

I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding loudly in my chest as I witnessed the scene unfold before my eyes. Jungkook, my beloved Panther hybrid, lay on the ground writhing in pain, blood seeping from the wound on his stomach.

The sight was like a stab to my own heart, rendering me immobile as I grappled with the overwhelming fear and anguish that gripped me. The sound of his growls filled the air, a haunting reminder of his suffering.

I felt a surge of emotions welling up inside me, a mix of helplessness, anger, and a deep sense of connection to Jungkook. It was as if his pain had become my own, urging me to act, to alleviate his suffering in any way possible. I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away from him, until a sudden embrace broke through my trance.

A deep, familiar voice called out my name, jolting me back to reality. With a start, I dashed to Jungkook's side, pushing aside the shock of the momentary distraction. I knelt beside him, my voice trembling with emotion as I pleaded with him to stay awake, to fight against the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

"Jungkook, please, look at me. Stay with me," I implored, my voice thick with tears. "I won't let anything happen to you. Just hold on, please."

Desperation laced my words as I called out for help, my voice cracking with the intensity of my emotions. I sought aid from those around me, their names tumbling from my lips in a frantic plea for assistance. The panic and fear that clawed at my heart threatened to overwhelm me as Jungkook's eyelids drooped, his breathing slowing.

"No, Jungkook, don't close your eyes," I cried out, my voice breaking with the weight of the moment. "Please, stay with me. Namjoon, Yoongi, anyone, help him!”

I was in the midst of a heated battle, but my focus was solely on protecting Jungkook and ensuring the safety of my hybrids. It was chaos all around, but I remained calm and collected as I gave orders to my men. Sending one to escort Jungkook to safety through the back door, with the hybrids trailing behind us.

"Jay, see to it that we have a car ready immediately. Your job is to ensure the safe extraction of the hybrids and take down Black Eagle and his crew. Stick to the original plan and I'll handle them myself later," I instructed over the earpiece, my voice firm and determined.

"Got it, Miss Valentino. I'll see to it that everything goes smoothly," Jay responded promptly. I acknowledged his commitment, even though he couldn't see me, and ended the call. Jungkook's well-being was my top priority at this moment.

Black Eagle had crossed a line by targeting my hybrids. I may be indifferent to personal threats, but when it comes to my family, vengeance knows no bounds. I vowed to make Black Eagle regret ever laying a finger on my hybrids. His actions had sealed his fate, and I would ensure he paid dearly for his transgressions. As Heaven Valentino, I would rain down retribution like never before seen.

As we made our way through the chaos, determination burned in my eyes. Nothing would stop me from protecting those under my care. With each step, my resolve hardened, and thoughts of vengeance fueled my every move. Black Eagle had awoken a fierce storm within me, and he would soon witness its full fury.

3rd Person's POV

As Heaven and her hybrids dashed towards the car, Jungkook's consciousness flickered on and off like a faulty light bulb.

With the group securely inside, the engine roared to life as the vehicle sped off.

Heaven wasted no time in taking charge, her voice firm but filled with concern. "Take us to my uncle's hybrid center right now," she directed the driver.

As they raced through the streets, Heaven began delegating tasks to her hybrids, "Namjoon, keep pressure on his wound, but don't press too hard. Jimin, pass me the rag from the door pockets. Jin, give me the water bottle," she instructed briskly.

The urgency in her voice was matched by the swift actions of her hybrids, each stepping up without hesitation. Namjoon applied pressure to Jungkook's wound, Jimin handed over the rag, and Jin passed her the water bottle.

Heaven soaked the rag in water and gently wiped Jungkook's forehead, soothing away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. The hybrids observed in silence, their hearts swelling with admiration for their owner’s unwavering care for their injured brother.

Once she had cleaned his face, Heaven tenderly cradled Jungkook's head in her lap, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. A melody escaped her lips, a soft and sweet tune that seemed to lull the tense atmosphere in the car.

The hybrids watched on, captivated by the scene unfolding before them. In that moment, a unique bond formed between them, and bound them together in a shared concern for Jungkook's well-being.

As the car raced towards their destination, the silence was broken only by the hum of the engine and the gentle melody that Heaven continued to hum.

~3 Hours Later~

As they entered the bustling hybrid facility, the strong scent of antiseptic hit their nostrils, mixed with the lingering odor of fur and earth. The guard, recognizing Heaven, rushed over in concern, his eyes widening at the sight of her blood-stained clothes.

"Heaven, what brings you here- oh my goodness, what happened to you?" he exclaimed in shock, his wrinkled face contorted with worry.

With a sense of urgency, Heaven wasted no time in issuing commands to the older man.

"Ellie, quick! Get the nurses. My Hybrid, Jungkook, has been shot. We need medical help right away!" Her voice was firm and unwavering, a sense of panic peeking through her composed facade.

Ellie, though slightly confused, nodded and darted off to fetch the necessary help. Within moments, a team of nurses came rushing out of the building, a stretcher in tow, their faces etched with concern and readiness.

As they attempted to lift Jungkook onto the stretcher, low growls reverberated through the air, emanating from the other hybrids present. Tension hung thick in the space, the boys wary of unfamiliar hands approaching their injured packmate.

"Calm down, it's okay. They are here to help Jungkook," Heaven spoke soothingly, trying to reassure the agitated hybrids.

"You can trust them, trust me." Her voice carried a sense of authority and compassion, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them.

Reluctantly, the other hybrids stood down, allowing the nurses to carefully lift Jungkook onto the stretcher and transport him inside the facility for medical attention. Heaven gestured for the group to follow, a silent invitation into the heart of the hybrid facility where secrets and healing intertwined.

Inside, the sterile corridors echoed with the hushed footsteps of hybrids and humans alike. The nurses swiftly wheeled Jungkook into a designated medical bay, taking charge of his care with practiced efficiency. Heaven stood by his side, her gaze unwavering as she watched over him with fierce protectiveness.

The rest of the group hovered anxiously, their expressions a mix of worry and anticipation. They had entered a world unknown to them, a place where hybrid lives hung in delicate balance, and healing was a delicate dance between trust and time.

Hoseok's POV

The tension in the air is thick, suffocating almost, making my chest feel heavy as we wait outside the emergency room. It feels like time has slowed down to a crawl, each minute dragging on forever.

I can't help but worry about Jungkook, my baby brother, even though he's not so little anymore. He's always been the baby of the group, and even though he's strong and capable, that protective instinct in me kicks in every time he's in trouble.

I glance around at the others, my friends who are just as anxious and afraid as I am. Heaven, our new owner, looks particularly shaken. She's been nothing but kind and caring since she bought us, and seeing her so distressed breaks my heart.

Her usual comforting scent of lavender and baby powder has turned bitter, a stark contrast to her usual calming presence. It's like a storm brewing inside her, and I can feel the tension radiating off her.

As I move closer to her, I can see the pain in her eyes, the unshed tears threatening to spill over. She's trying to be strong, to hold it all together, but I can see the cracks in her facade.

I reach out a hand to her shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. She startles at my touch, her eyes locking onto mine, searching for something. I know what she's looking for – reassurance, hope that everything will be okay.

I meet her gaze, trying to convey my silent support. I want her to know that we're all in this together, that we'll get through this as a team. Jungkook will be okay, we'll make sure of it.

As I knelt before her, gently caressing her cheeks, I couldn't help but get lost in the depths of her mesmerizing ocean blue-green eyes that seemed to have darkened with worry, giving them a grey hue.

"Everything will be okay, Jungkook will be fine. He's strong, you know that. Nothing bad can happen to him," I whispered, trying to reassure her in the midst of her distress.

Her defenses crumbled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably, seeking solace in my embrace. It caught me off guard for a moment, but I quickly gathered myself and enveloped her in a warm hug, holding her close to me.

Her body shook with the intensity of her sobs, all the emotions she had been holding back now pouring out like a dam breaking.

"You're okay, you're fine. He's fine. We're all fine," I murmured, trying to provide whatever comfort I could as she clung to me tightly.

In that moment, something shifted within me. A fierce protectiveness welled up, a determination to shield her from any harm and to fiercely guard her against any threat.

I couldn't stand to see tears in her eyes, the thought alone unbearable. We stayed embraced for what felt like forever, and I noticed her eventually calming down, her breathing evening out as she drifted off to sleep.

My heart ached seeing her so drained. Carefully, I lifted her in my arms, settling her on my lap as she stirred in protest at the movement. I gently made her straddle me, allowing her to nuzzle into my chest for comfort.

A soft kiss on her forehead, and a soothing stroke of her hair seemed to bring her a sense of peace, her sigh of contentment echoing in the room.

"I'll protect you with everything I have, even if it means losing my life," I vowed silently, a fierce determination settling within me.

Seokjin POV

I couldn't help but let out a relieved smile as I gazed at the sight of Hobi and Heaven snuggled up together. The night had been beyond exhausting for all of us, especially with Jungkook's health hanging in the balance. The ominous silence from the doctor was suffocating, leaving us all on edge.

Leaning against the wall, lost in my thoughts, the sudden change of the emergency room's red light to green jolted me back to attention. Without skipping a beat, I straightened up and made my way towards the approaching doctor, with everyone else gathering around me in anticipation.

My heart pounding, I managed to voice my concern, “Doctor, how is my brother doing?” The tension in the air was palpable as we awaited his response.

The doctor's warm smile instantly put me at ease as he began to speak,

“He is fine. Everything went smoothly. The bullet penetrates deep, but fortunately not deep enough to cause any internal damage that could have been life-threatening. Your quick thinking of applying pressure to the wound helped tremendously in preventing excessive bleeding.” His reassuring words washed over us like a soothing balm.

As he continued, my fears started to dissipate, “Although he did lose some blood, we had blood donors ready for an immediate transfusion. We've administered antibiotics to ease any discomfort, and he should regain consciousness either later tonight or early tomorrow morning. There's no need to worry, your brother is out of danger now.” His explanation was like music to my ears, and I felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders.

A collective sigh of relief swept through all of us, the tension releasing like a taut rubber band snapping back to normal. Knowing that Jungkook was going to be okay was the greatest news we could have hoped for after such a harrowing night. Gratefulness flooded my heart, and I felt a surge of emotions knowing that my brother was safe and on the road to recovery.

It was a nerve-wracking moment when the doctor allowed us to see Jungkook, one at a time. He emphasized not to disturb the patient before gracefully excusing himself from the room. We thanked him wholeheartedly as he left to attend to his other duties.

As we stood there, pondering who should go in first to visit Jungkook, Hobi was the one to break the silence. He suggested that Heaven should be the first one to go in, which we all readily agreed upon. After all, it was because of her quick thinking and actions that Jungkook was still with us today.

The thought of almost losing Jungkook sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for the outcome. I gestured to Hobi to wake up Heaven and share the good news with her. The relief and joy that washed over us in that moment were indescribable.

Heaven's POV

I felt someone lightly shake me, disrupting my peaceful slumber. Groggily, I opened my eyes and was met with the sight of Hobi peering down at me with a huge grin plastered across his face. Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“Heaven sweetie, we have good news,” Hobi chirped, his eyes twinkling with excitement. My mind struggled to catch up as I processed his words. Slowly, the pieces from the events of the previous night started to click into place, sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins.

Realization dawned on me, and I bolted upright, disentangling myself from Hobi's embrace as thoughts of Jungkook flooded my mind. Panic gripped my heart as I frantically scanned the room, searching for any sign of my beloved Panther hybrid.

“Where is Jungkook? Is he okay?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fear and urgency. The room fell silent, the air heavy with unspoken words as my mind raced with a million possibilities. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I awaited their response.

“Heaven, calm down,” Jin's voice broke through the tense atmosphere, his eyes filled with understanding and reassurance. “Jungkook is safe and sound, resting peacefully. You can go see him now; I'm sure he'll want to see you when he wakes up.”

Relief washed over me in a tidal wave, yet a sliver of doubt lingered in the back of my mind. Could it truly be that Jungkook was unharmed, that my worst fears had not come to pass? With trembling limbs, I allowed Jin to guide me towards Jungkook's room, my heart thudding in my chest with every step.

Stepping into the room, I beheld the sight of my Panther hybrid lying in the hospital bed, his features relaxed in slumber. The worry lines that had etched themselves onto my face softened at the sight of Jungkook's peaceful expression, a calmness settling over me at last.

Striding towards his bedside, I reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, my gaze never leaving his serene face.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of tranquility. Jungkook's steady breathing filled the room, a soothing lullaby to my anxious soul. I watched over him, a silent guardian, grateful beyond words that he was safe and sound.

I carefully moved closer and settled on the stool next to his bed, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his sleeping face. Gently brushing his hair with my fingers, I tried not to disturb his peaceful rest.

"You really scared me earlier, you know," I admitted, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"When you started drifting in and out of consciousness, I was terrified. I held on to the hope that you would wake up, that you would demand more food, or ask for cuddles, or want to play games, or even just complain about the other guys bothering you, anything to let me know you were okay."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I poured my heart out to him, even though he couldn't hear me.

"Don't ever do something like that again," I scolded softly, the tears now flowing freely.

"I know why you got shot, you know. You jumped in front of me to protect me. That bullet wasn't meant for you, it was meant for me. But you took it without a second thought. You had no reason to do that. What if something had happened to you? I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you." My grip on his hand tightened as I confessed my fears to the unconscious Jungkook.

"It's amazing how quickly you and the guys have become so important to me in such a short amount of time," I continued, my voice breaking with emotion.

"I'd do anything to keep you all safe, to give you the happiness and security you all deserve." Leaning closer to him, I let a solitary tear trace its path down my cheek, the weight of my feelings almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, I felt his hand squeeze mine, and my heart leaped as I turned to look at him. His eyes were open, tears glistening in them as he offered me a warm, grateful smile.

"Thank you for everything, for taking us in, for treating us with love and respect when you had no obligation to," Jungkook's voice, though weak, was filled with sincerity as he raised my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my skin.

I was taken aback by his gesture, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions that surged through me. "No, thank you for coming into my life," I whispered, a sense of gratitude and love engulfing me as I met his gaze, knowing that our bond was something truly special.

3rd Person's POV

In Italian, "obliterazione delle anime" sounded like something out of a horror movie, but for Heaven, it was a mantra for revenge.

Everyone knew not to mess with her, but Black Eagle had crossed a line that even her closest friends didn't dare to tread. She had unleashed something dark and primal inside her, fueled by anger and the need for justice.

After that night, Heaven had made sure her hybrids were safe with her uncle before embarking on her mission. She had always been a one-woman army, but this time, she knew she needed backup.

Her mind was consumed with thoughts of retribution, her heart beating with the anticipation of facing off against Black Eagle. The thirst for vengeance was strong, and she was determined to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

As she plotted her next move, Heaven's eyes glinted with a steely resolve. She was ready to unleash her fury and make sure Black Eagle regretted ever crossing her.

~Unknown Location~

It was a dim lit evening, the moon and stars were shining brightly in the sky, casting a magical glow over the landscape. The gentle breeze of the night carried with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers, while the occasional rustle of leaves and chirping of crickets added to the peaceful ambiance.

In the corner of a luxurious balcony, stood a man cloaked in a black silk robe, a glass of whisky in his hand. He leaned casually against the railing, his gaze fixed on the twinkling stars above. A small, dark smirk played on his lips, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he reflected on the events that transpired just three days ago.

Finally, after years of relentless pursuit, he had uncovered the weakness of Heaven Valentino, the elusive ice queen.

The satisfaction that filled him at that moment was unparalleled, knowing that he held the key to dismantling her carefully constructed facade.

His plan was set into motion as he smirked sinisterly, his mind consumed with dark thoughts of revenge and cruelty. He imagined himself inflicting emotional pain on his target before indulging in his twisted desires of physical dominance. The mere idea of breaking someone down, bit by bit, excited him to no end.

“I will make sure to shatter you, inch by inch. I will start with hurting you emotionally, then keep your body for my sinful guilty pleasures over and over again,” he whispered to himself, his voice laced with malice.

The disturbing images played out in his mind, fueling his twisted fantasies and desires. He reveled in the thought of Heaven's suffering, relishing the idea of her pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as he asserted his power over her.

Just as he was lost in his dark musings, a voice suddenly interrupted his reverie, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Why not feed into your fantasies right now?” the voice taunted from behind him, causing him to whirl around in shock.

His eyes widened in surprise as he beheld the unexpected intruder standing before him, a smirk playing on their lips. The sudden appearance of this person caught him off guard, leaving him speechless and bewildered.

“W-what, how did you get here?” he stammered, his composure wavering in the face of this unforeseen encounter.

The person before him adopted an air of faux sadness, her expression a mask of innocence that belied a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” She pouted playfully, teasing him with her cryptic words.

Frustration and confusion simmered within him as he struggled to make sense of the situation. His anger flared at the perceived intrusion, demanding answers from the enigmatic figure who had disrupted his twisted reverie.

“Answer my question, woman!” he barked, his voice tinged with vexation and impatience.

Heaven stood before him, unperturbed by his outburst, reveling in the power play that unfolded between them.

“Oh, that was easy. For someone who has the best team, you undeniably do trust your men an awful lot not to betray you,” She taunted, her words laced with sardonic amusement as she closed the distance between them.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to decipher the cryptic remarks of his unexpected visitor. The insinuation of betrayal among his trusted allies struck a nerve, stirring doubt and suspicion within him.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, his scowl deepening as he sought clarity amidst the shadowy web of intrigue that surrounded them.

His question was met with a knowing smirk from Heaven, her gaze locking with his in a silent challenge. She seemed to take pleasure in pulling back the veils of deception, reveling in the subtle dance of power and revelation that unfolded between them.

“Aww, you poor thing, did you really think I wouldn't be able to find you? Your men are not as smart nor trained as I thought they were. Just a little cock tease, and they'd be at my mercy,” she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery.

His eyes widened in realization as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, painting a clearer picture of the intricate game that had been played against him. The revelation of his men's vulnerability to manipulation and deceit left him seething with anger and frustration.

“You bloody whore! Just because you have the name of a Saint doesn't make you less of a vile woman. You're right, my men are stupid for thinking with their cocks and not their heads. That is why they will be killed,” he seethed, his anger boiling over as he lashed out in a fit of rage.

His threats fell on deaf ears as she remained unruffled, her demeanor cool and composed in the face of his outburst. She relished in the confrontation, reveling in the power dynamics that played out between them.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you wanted to use me for your 'sinful guilty satisfaction,' where I would scream and beg for mercy,” Heaven taunted, her voice dripping with irony and disdain as she closed the distance between them.

As Heaven moved closer, her proximity sparking an electric tension between them,

“Black Eagle— or should I say Kim Min-Soo,” Heaven revealed his true identity with a smirk, exposing the mask of anonymity he had hidden behind.

The revelation landed like a blow, leaving him reeling as the implications of his true identity being laid bare sank in.

The realization that his carefully constructed facade had been pierced sent a chill down his spine, exposing him to the vulnerability and consequences of his deceit.

“Your plan of acting like some meek little bellboy to get to me was actually pretty clever. Knowing I didn't know of your true identity, coming to personally hand me the invitation with a mask so that I wouldn't know who you are, wow, genius,” Heaven mocked, her words cutting through his defenses with surgical precision.

The power dynamics shifted, with him now standing on shaky ground as Heaven turned the tables on him with a mix of mockery and sardonic amusement.

As he stood face to face with Heaven, the illusion of control and dominance that he had so carefully cultivated crumbled around him, leaving him at the mercy of a force far more formidable than he had anticipated.

In that moment, he realized that his carefully constructed facade had been nothing but a house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest breath of truth and revelation.

Min-Soo's blood boiled as he gripped her fragile neck between his fingers, her body pressed tightly against his own. The mixture of rage and excitement coursed through him as he spoke, his words laced with a sinister tone.

“Well, well, well, I must say, you get points for managing to track me down. But a delicate flower like you shouldn't be wandering the streets alone. What if some unsavory characters got their hands on you and ruined that precious little cunt of yours, huh, sweetheart?” His words dripped with malice, his breath reeking of alcohol as it washed over her face, making her recoil in disgust.

But she didn't show an ounce of fear as she calmly retorted, her hand teasingly tracing patterns on his bare chest, eliciting a deep growl from him as he clutched her waist possessively.

“Oh, but it seems you've forgotten one crucial detail," she purred, her touch sending shivers down his spine as she ventured lower to where his desire stirred.

His voice was heavy with desire as he leaned in closer, eager for her next words.

“And what might that be?” he breathed against her ear, the anticipation evident in his voice.

She let out a dark chuckle, her voice dripping with malice as she whispered a phrase in Italian, sending a chill down his spine.

"I'm not just any woman, Sono il tuo nemico dall'inferno," she hissed, her words a promise of vengeance that sent a shiver down his spine.

With a sudden burst of strength, she wrenched his hand from her neck and swiftly delivered a powerful blow to his jaw, sending him reeling. As he stumbled backward, she delivered the final blow, a needle piercing his skin and injecting a potent sedative into his veins.

As he crumpled to the ground, unconscious, she stood tall and victorious, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips as she spoke her final words.

“I swore to myself that I would be the one to end you, and now that promise is fulfilled. Goodnight, babe,” she taunted, before turning and disappearing into the night, leaving behind a defeated enemy in her wake.

WARNING: TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED. ⚠️

~Time Skip~

Min-Soo's POV

I groaned in pain, my face hurt like a bitch as I tried to move, but it felt like my arms and legs were constricted like some straight jacket from a horror movie, huh? It took a moment of confusion before I finally managed to summon the energy to pry my eyes open.

The dim lighting of the room did little to comfort my disorientation, and as my vision adjusted to the surroundings, I realized my body was tied to a chair in the center of the room.

"What the actual fuc-" I started to mutter under my breath before a nauseating voice cut through the silence, causing my heart to skip a beat. The figure emerged from the shadows, her presence sending shivers down my spine.

"Oh, you're awake," she greeted me with a sickly sweet tone that made my skin crawl.

"You think tying me up will stop me?" I scoffed, trying to regain some semblance of bravado in the face of the unknown threat before me. But deep down, I knew I was in deep trouble.

"Oh, don't worry sweetie, I was only making sure you were comfy and rested for what's to come," she replied, her voice laced with a twisted sense of glee that sent chills down my spine.

As if on cue, the room suddenly brightened as additional bulbs illuminated the space, almost blinding me in the process.

My eyes darted around the room, and that's when I saw it - a fresh human dick was nailed to the wall, a macabre display of grotesque art that made bile rise in my throat.

And then, I looked down and horror gripped me like a vice - my own manhood was missing!

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and the pain that surged through my body felt like a thousand fiery needles piercing my skin. I wanted to scream, to escape this nightmare, but all that escaped my lips was a guttural cry of agony as the adrenaline that once fueled my defiance started to wear off.

"Awe, do you not like my newest piece for my art collection?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malicious amusement at my suffering.

The pain between my legs was unbearable, and I tried to wriggle free from my restraints, but it was as if I was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight

She approached me with a leisurely pace, reveling in my anguish as she reached out to touch my wet cheeks, her touch feeling like a cold reminder of the hellish reality I found myself in.

I could do nothing but let her, my body numb and my spirit shattered by the sheer cruelty of the situation. The realization that I was at the mercy of a deranged individual hit me like a ton of bricks, and I knew that I was about to endure horrors beyond my wildest nightmares.

3rd Person's POV

As she stood there with an evil smirk playing on her lips, she looked positively diabolic, as if she had been possessed by the devil himself. The glint in her eyes sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared to cross her path.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you open like this," she spoke with a chilling calmness in her voice. "Luckily, I'm a fashion designer, which means my stitch work is fantastic. I assure you, you'll be good as new."

She expertly donned her gloves and prepared a sterilized needle and thread, her movements precise and calculated.

"I'm going to have to warn you, this will hurt," she continued, a malevolent smile playing on her lips. "But just a little. You'll barely feel anything."

Despite his desperate pleas and frantic begging, she paid no heed. With a swift motion, the needle pierced through the meaty, chunky flesh, causing him to scream out in excruciating pain.

Her laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls as she continued her work as though she was on a mission from beyond. She sewed and sewed, the needle dancing in her skilled hands, the thread weaving a grotesque pattern on his skin.

She seemed unperturbed by his ear-deafening exclamations, her focus solely on her gruesome task at hand.

"Yikes, my hands are all bloody," she remarked casually, as though she was discussing the weather. "Just give me a moment to clean myself up."

Leaving him writhing in agony on the chair, she disappeared momentarily, leaving behind a trail of terror and despair. Min-Soo lay there, on the brink of losing consciousness, his body racked with intense pain that threatened to consume him whole.

When she returned, a sickening glee danced in her eyes, her smile as wide as the Cheshire cat's, but devoid of any semblance of human emotion.

"Now, for the last fun part," she declared, her voice dripping with faux empathy. "You'll enjoy it, as you won't have to suffer much. I'm not heartless, you know."

She brought a tool box and placed it on the table beside him. The metal clinks of the tools against each other echoed through the room, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Each item in the toolbox seemed to hold a sinister purpose, sending shivers down his spine.

“I'm sure you learnt how to dissect a frog in middle school, and the fascination you'd get after is great, that's why I'm going to do the same to you,” Heaven Valentino's voice dripped with malice, her words cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

Min-Soo's eyes popped out as he heard the disturbing words leave her mouth. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a wave of fear washed over him like a chilling breeze.

In his thirty years of life, he has never heard someone sound so diabolical, much less expect that from a woman as fragile looking as Heaven Valentino.

It was as if a dark shadow had consumed her, twisting her innocent appearance into something malevolent and pure evil.

It's like the woman had given control to her inner demons.

She gripped the knife and sliced along his chest from top to bottom. The searing pain shot through Min-Soo's body, making his every nerve scream in agony. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, intensifying the terror swirling within him.

The man wailed, the pain unendurable. His voice filled the room, a symphony of suffering that seemed to go unheard by anyone beyond the four walls enclosing them.

“Just kill me please, kill me already, I beg you!” He cried out, his voice hoarse and desperate. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mixture of pain and fear clouding his vision.

"Gladly," Heaven's smile dropped, revealing a cold and distant expression that sent chills down his spine. The glint in her eyes spoke of a darkness within her that he could never have imagined.

The ambiance belched something deadly like a forbidden entity as she slowly but deeply pierced the razor sharp knife into his chest, plunging through him. A gut-wrenching sound filled the room as the blade tore through flesh and bone, sealing his fate.

His eyes were shot open, a tear trickled down his face, an inaudible cry left his mouth. And his chest heaved his last breath. The room fell silent, the oppressive weight of death lingering in the air as Black Eagle's life slipped away, leaving behind only emptiness and sorrow.

END OF TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Taehyung's POV

It's been quite some time since we've had any contact with Heaven. She left us at her uncle's hybrid facility and assured us that she would return soon to bring us back. I can't help but worry about her safety, what if something happened to her and we have no way of knowing?

I really hope she's okay and will be back with us soon.

Jungkook is recovering quickly, thanks to the amazing healing abilities of hybrids. He's been asking about Heaven, just like the rest of us, but none of us have any solid information to give him. We are all in the dark about her whereabouts and well-being.

I decided to visit Jungkook in his room to play some games with him. Dante, Heaven's uncle, has been incredibly kind and caring towards us. He provided us with our own comfortable rooms filled with everything we could possibly need. Dante always checks in on us and asks if there's anything we require.

When Jungkook asked for games, Dante went above and beyond by getting him a whole PlayStation set. We had no idea how to use it initially, but Dante patiently taught us the ropes. Ever since then, we've been hooked on gaming, especially Jungkook. It's been a great way to keep our minds occupied and pass the time while we wait for Heaven's return.

As I strolled along the hallway of the familiar facility, my senses suddenly came alive as the fragrant smell of lavender and baby powder danced around me. It was a scent I knew all too well, one that was both addictive and comforting.

Without hesitation, I followed the alluring trail which eventually led me to the reception area where she stood.

Her presence never failed to captivate me. With a gracefulness that seemed to defy all logic, she turned towards me. Our eyes met, and in that singular moment, everything else faded away. It was as though the world had stopped spinning, leaving only her in my line of sight.

"Kitty," her voice called out, filled with warmth and affection. Her arms opened wide, beckoning me closer.

I didn't need a second invitation. With a rush of emotions, I closed the distance between us and enveloped her in a tight embrace, lifting her delicate frame off the ground.

The scent of lavender and baby powder enveloped me, triggering a flood of memories and emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

The tears came unexpectedly, spilling down my cheeks as I clung to her. With gentle hands, she brushed away my tears, her tender kisses leaving a trail of comfort on my skin. Her smile, so familiar and yet so enchanting, melted any lingering doubts or fears in my heart.

"I missed you so much, kitty," her voice, like a soothing melody, whispered in my ear as we remained entwined in each other's arms. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us, cocooned in a bubble of shared emotion and unspoken words.

But reality soon intruded, reminding me that others were waiting for her return. Guilt tugged at my heart, knowing that I had monopolized her attention for too long. The rest of the guys, especially Jungkook, must be eager to reunite with her as well.

"Heaven, the other guys have been longing to see you, especially Jungkook. He's been asking about you nonstop, almost to the point of obsession," I confessed with a chuckle, breaking the momentary silence between us.

Without missing a beat, she smiled playfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Lead the way to my other babies," she declared, her command swathed in a layer of undeniable cuteness that never failed to charm me.

Reluctantly, I released her from my embrace and took her hand in mine, the size difference between our hands a poignant reminder of our bond.

As I guided her towards the waiting group of friends, a sense of contentment washed over me, knowing that she was finally back where she belonged.

With us.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey there, lovely readers!

I just had to dive into the depths of darkness for this chapter, and let me tell you, it was like navigating through a pitch-black tunnel.

Writing it made me feel all kinds of emotions, and I hope you're all doing ok after reading it. But hey, at least Heaven finally got her sweet dose of revenge, right? Justice served!

I'm dying to know - what did you think of this chapter? My personal favorite part to write was the lovely little scene between Hobi and Heaven. It was just so heartwarming and adorable, it made my heart do a little twirl.

And oh my gosh, can we talk about Heaven's interactions with Taehyung? Literally the cutest thing ever, right? It's moments like those that make me fall in love with writing all over again. 💞

Thank you a million times for taking the time to read the chapter, and please, pretty please, don't forget to hit that vote button and drop a comment sharing your thoughts. Your feedback means the world to me and keeps my writing engine running. Plus, it's always so much fun to hear what you think!

Sending you all loads of love and virtual hugs! 🤗

With all my love and overflowing gratitude,

Your favorite AUTHOR-NIM 😁💞

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004, @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud

MENTALITY OF THE HEART [ An ORIGINAL FICTION] ♣︎

Original Characters [WMBW ORIGINAL ROMANCE FICTION]

Rating: 16+

Author: Lynnetty L. Mubanga (AKA Lee (me🤭) )

SYNOPSIS: Alice Monroe, At the age of 24, found herself working at the largest psychiatric hospital in the city, where her skills and dedication were highly valued.

Despite her young age, she had earned the respect of her colleagues for her professionalism and unwavering commitment to her patients. However, not everyone was quick to acknowledge her talents. Some older male colleagues dismissed her as inexperienced, while women of all ages admired her for breaking barriers in a male-dominated field.

Though she exuded confidence and competence in her professional life, Alice's personal life was a stark contrast. With a bubbly personality and a caring nature, she often found herself struggling to maintain boundaries with her patients, especially those who appealed to her maternal instincts. This had earned her the nickname "goody-two-shoes" among her friends, a label she wore with a mixture of pride and exasperation.

On the other side of the spectrum was Alexander Dante Bianchi, a 26-year-old Italian billionaire known for his ruthless business tactics and his irresistible charm. Women swooned over him, while men envied his power and charisma.

Despite his outward image of success and confidence, Alexander harbored a dark secret that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed facade. He battled with a severe mental disorder that he kept hidden from the world, fearing the repercussions of revealing his vulnerability.

When fate brought Alice and Alexander together, it was a collision of two worlds that could not have been more different. As his newly appointed personal psychiatrist.

Despite their differences, they found themselves drawn to each other in ways they could not explain. The line between professional duty and personal temptation began to blur, leading them down a path they never expected.

Would they succumb to the fire burning between them, or would they resist the inevitable pull of their hearts?

WARNING: Mentions of mental conditions, tr

Chapter Warning: Slight trigger content.

《CONTENT》 《Series Materialist》 《Next》

Authors POV

In the sprawling metropolis of London, beneath the twinkling night sky, a picturesque scene unfolds on a grassy hilltop. Two figures find solace in each other's arms, their bodies entwined, as they surrender to the serenity of the moment.

The wind whispers gently through the air, carrying with it a sense of profound tranquility. Their eyes, brimming with a love that defies ordinary expression, convey emotions far deeper than words could ever capture.

Their story, however, is anything but ordinary. It is a tale woven with the threads of happenstance and destiny, as they met in the most unconventional manner. It was not a chance encounter amidst a bustling café or a shared glance across a crowded room. Instead, their paths intersected on a fateful day, one filled with unforeseen obstacles and unexpected twists.

Their relationship blossomed amidst this unconventional backdrop, and with every passing day, the complexity of their connection grew. They treaded through the delicate terrain of love, knowing that their future hinged on the choices they made and the paths they ventured upon.

It was not a straightforward journey, devoid of challenges or uncertainties, but rather a labyrinth where every move could potentially lead to either bliss or heartache.

Yet, despite the inherent complexity of their circumstances, they remained resolute in their commitment to one another. They understood that the road ahead would demand unwavering dedication, for their love was no ordinary love.

It was built on a foundation of trust, forged through trials and tribulations that only strengthened the bonds they shared. They were not content to simply succumb to the whims of fate; instead, they actively shaped their own destinies.

Each decision they made was weighted with immense significance. They treaded carefully, aware that a single misstep could mean the difference between eternal happiness and profound misery.

Their love was too precious to be left to chance or caprice. And so, they navigated the complexities of their lives with an astute awareness, keeping their eyes firmly fixed upon the future they so ardently desired.

As they sat atop the grassy hill, their gazes lingered on the illuminated city below. They allowed themselves a moment of calm amidst the chaos of life, finding solace in the beauty surrounding them.

The starry sky served as a reminder that even in the vast expanse of the universe, their love was unique, profound, and worth fighting for.

In that peaceful silence, with the wind as witness, they knew that their journey would be arduous, but ultimately worthwhile. Their love had weathered storms and soared amidst adversity, and with each passing day, their hearts grew stronger.

Together, they would continue to navigate the labyrinth, making the right moves, and defying the odds. For in each other's arms, they found solace, passion, and a love that would endure for all eternity.

~Two Years Earlier ~

Alice sat calmly in her chair, her gaze soft and understanding as she listened intently to her patient's recount of their troubling experiences. The patient, a young individual with a fragile demeanor, hesitantly began detailing the horrifying nightmares that had been plaguing their sleep.

As the patient spoke shakily, describing the dark room, eerie voices, and the daunting figure that haunted their dreams, Alice felt a pang of empathy for the suffering that her patient had endured. The vivid description painted a picture of sheer terror and helplessness that left a lingering sense of unease in the room.

The patient's voice quivered as they continued, revealing the physical manifestations of the nightmares - the sensation of being choked, thrown against walls, and the overwhelming terror that felt all too real. Alice could see the genuine fear etched on their face and the desperation in their eyes as they pleaded for help.

With a gentle nod, Alice urged the patient to share more about the origins of these haunting dreams. As the patient hesitatingly recounted the tragic events of their parents' brutal murder on their sixteenth birthday, tears streamed down their face, each word weighed down by the unbearable pain and sorrow they carried.

Listening to the heartbreaking account of loss and trauma, Alice felt a surge of compassion and sorrow for her patient. To witness the devastating impact of such a traumatic experience on a young soul was a heavy burden to bear, and she felt a deep-seated urge to offer comfort and support to help them navigate through the torment that reverberated through their nightmares.

In that moment, the doctor's professional facade crumbled, revealing a compassionate heart that ached for the struggles of her patient. She knew all too well the profound impact of unresolved trauma and the intricate complexities of the human mind.

As the patient's tears flowed freely, Alice extended a comforting hand, a silent gesture of solidarity and reassurance in the face of overwhelming pain.

She understood the gravity of the healing journey ahead and the importance of providing a safe space for her patient to confront their inner demons and find solace amidst the shadows of their past.

In the realm of mental health, where battles are often fought in the depths of one's psyche, Alice held onto a glimmer of hope that with time, patience, and unwavering support, her patient could gradually reclaim their sense of peace and emerge from the darkness into the light of healing.

The young psychiatrist had always been fascinated by the complexities of the human mind. It was this curiosity that led her to pursue a career in psychiatry. However, her passion for understanding mental health took a profound turn when she witnessed a heartbreaking event that changed her life forever.

The incident involved a young autistic boy who had been a victim of relentless bullying. Overwhelmed by the cruelty he faced, he tragically decided to end his own life.

The psychiatrist, who had formed a bond with the boy and was his only source of support, was left devastated by the loss. She was haunted by the thought that she could have done more to prevent the tragedy.

The experience fueled her determination to advocate for individuals with disabilities and mental health challenges. She firmly believed that everyone deserved compassion and understanding, regardless of their struggles. Her mission was to provide a safe and supportive environment for those who felt marginalized or misunderstood.

Putting her professionalism aside, she reached out to comfort a distressed patient during a therapy session. The patient, grappling with feelings of madness and trauma, found solace in the psychiatrist's reassuring words.

The psychiatrist assured her patient that experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder and schizophrenia did not define their sanity. She offered unwavering support and empathy, emphasizing that healing and recovery were possible with time and effort.

After the emotional session with her patient, the psychiatrist was summoned by the hospital director for an urgent discussion. As she prepared to address the pressing issue, her mind was already racing with thoughts of how she could continue making a positive impact in the lives of those struggling with mental health challenges.

Despite the emotional toll of her work, the psychiatrist remained steadfast in her dedication to promoting mental well-being and advocating for those in need. She knew that her calling went beyond just treating symptoms – it was about restoring hope, dignity, and resilience in every individual she encountered.

After her intense session with her patient, Dr. Monroe was called into the director's office for an urgent matter. Curiosity and a hint of nervousness gnawed at her as she hurried to the meeting. So, when she was greeted by the sight of a mysterious man seated in the office along with Mr. Brown, her heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, there you are. Please, have a seat, Dr. Reynolds," Mr. Brown's voice was composed, but there seemed to be an underlying tension in the room.

As she made her way to the chair, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched intently. Turning to face the man, she was taken aback by his striking appearance. His features were sharp, his gaze piercing, and his overall demeanor exuded an air of danger that both captivated and unnerved her.

His emerald green eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, while his perfectly groomed appearance hinted at a life of luxury and power. Draped in a sleek black Armani suit, with just the right amount of buttons undone, he exuded confidence and charm in equal measure.

Despite her professional demeanor, Alice couldn't help but feel a flicker of something unfamiliar stir within her at the sight of this enigmatic man. It was as if his presence alone demanded attention and respect, drawing her in even as it set off warning bells in her mind.

Unnerved by the intensity of his gaze, she quickly averted her eyes, feeling the sly smirk playing on his lips. It was a subtle gesture, yet it sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of the hidden depths lurking beneath his alluring facade.

"Miss Monroe, I would like you to meet Mr. Alexander Dante Bianchi," Mr. Brown's introduction snapped her out of her reverie, pulling her attention back to the matter at hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Monroe," his voice, deep and tinged with a seductive Italian accent, rang out as he extended his hand for a handshake. The touch of his hand sent a jolt of electricity through her, leaving her momentarily flustered and off-balance.

"A pleasure to meet you too" she said, her voice coming out a little shaky.

Mr. Brown cleared his throat, his expression serious as he motioned for Alice to take a seat. Alice couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue mixed with a hint of anxiety as she waited for him to reveal the reason for summoning her.

"Alright, here's the deal," Mr. Brown began, his voice tinged with urgency. "I have a highly sensitive task that I need your help with, and it's crucial that you keep it strictly confidential. This is strictly between you and me, understood?"

Alice nodded, her curiosity piqued. She leaned in slightly, wondering what could be so important that Mr. Brown was emphasizing secrecy to such a degree.

"It's come to my attention that Mr. Bianchi is in need of a personal doctor," Mr. Brown continued, his gaze unwavering. "And after careful consideration, I believe you are the most suitable candidate for the job. Your track record speaks for itself, and I have full confidence in your abilities."

Surprise washed over Alice as she processed the gravity of the situation. Being handpicked as a personal doctor for someone as notable as Mr. Bianchi was an unexpected turn of events. She felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the prospect.

"I...I've never taken on such a role before," Alice stammered, her mind racing with uncertainties. "I'm not sure if I have the necessary experience for this."

Mr. Brown's expression softened, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Nonsense, Alice. You are more than capable. Your dedication and expertise make you the perfect candidate for this position. Trust me, you won't disappoint."

Feeling a surge of reassurance from Mr. Brown's words, Alice mustered her resolve. She knew that this opportunity was both a challenge and an honor, and she couldn't let doubt hold her back.

"Okay, if you believe in me, then I'll give it my best shot," Alice replied, her voice steady despite her lingering doubts.

"Excellent," Mr. Brown exclaimed, his approval evident. "I have every confidence in your abilities. I'll leave you to discuss the details with Mr. Bianchi. The contract has been prepared, and everything is in place. I must dash off to a meeting now, so I'll leave you to it."

With that, Mr. Brown made his exit, leaving Alice alone with the weight of her new responsibility settling in.

Alice's POV

I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The director had left me alone with a man I had never met before. All I knew was that there was something about him that set him apart from the ordinary. His presence exuded an air of mystery and power that made me nervous.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize he had approached me until I felt his body close behind mine. The warmth of his breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine. His voice, low and almost menacing, called out my name.

"Ms. Monroe," he said, his words tinged with a hint of a growl.

My heart raced as I nervously responded, "Uh-uhm y-yes?"

He leaned closer, his proximity making me feel both exhilarated and terrified. "Can we discuss the contract?" he asked, his voice sending a wave of electricity through me.

I struggled to regain my composure, reminding myself that I was a professional. "Oh– uh sure," I managed to reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

He finally stepped back, retreating to his seat, but the intensity of his gaze lingered in the air between us. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. As we delved into the details of the contract, I found myself drawn to his enigmatic presence, eager to unravel the secrets he held.

As he turned to face me, the air filled with tension. His piercing gaze met mine as he handed over the thick contract, his fingers brushing against mine ever so slightly. The weight of the situation settled in as I realized the gravity of what was being presented to me.

"Okay, let's get back to business," he began, his voice steady but commanding. "This is the contract. You can read through it while I guide you." Each word seemed to hang in the air, the silence amplifying the pressure on me to understand the terms laid out before me.

His next words cut through the stillness like a knife. "Firstly, you swear to never tell anyone about this arrangement. And also never tell anyone you know me. Do you understand?" The seriousness in his tone was unmistakable, and I nodded in silent agreement, a knot forming in my stomach.

"Good," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "Secondly, you are my personal doctor. Which means you are only allowed to attend to me and only me." The exclusivity of his demand left me feeling both trapped and conflicted, but I knew there was more to come.

"Thirdly," he went on, his voice unwavering, "you will have to be around me twenty-four seven in case I start to slip." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, the implications sinking in with each passing moment.

"And fourthly," he began, his tone shifting slightly as he reached the next point, "you are to move to my house—" Before he could finish his sentence, my own voice cut him off, a tinge of defiance creeping into my tone.

"Wait a minute," I interjected, unable to conceal my disbelief. "Move in with you? Why should I do that?" The prospect of uprooting my life in such a drastic way was overwhelming, and I couldn't fathom the reasoning behind such a demand.

"You have no choice," he responded calmly, his words hanging in the air like a final verdict. "It's either you move in or I sue you. You already know way too much, so you've got to make a choice." Despite the façade of calmness he maintained, I could sense the underlying threat in his words, a stark reminder of the power he held in this situation.

"But that's not fair!" I exclaimed, abruptly standing up as my annoyance took over.

In response, the man before me didn't seem phased by my outburst. Instead, he responded with a chilling calmness that sent shivers down my spine. "I would appreciate it if you would not speak to me like that. You wouldn't like what I'd do to you," he warned, his words laced with a hint of threat. "So sit your pretty little ass down and listen like the good girl you are," he added, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Feeling a mix of fear and uncertainty, I slowly sank back into my seat, realizing the seriousness of the situation. This man's demeanor and the underlying implications of his words made it clear that he was not to be trifled with. I couldn't afford to test his boundaries, not knowing what he was truly capable of. My usual stubbornness and boldness suddenly felt like dangerous traits, ones that could lead me into irreversible trouble.

"And besides, it's not like we are going to share a bed, so you can relax yourself," he continued, his tone mixing a strange sense of casualness with an underlying tension. "Oh, and yes, you will get off days, but that doesn't mean you have to slack off. Always be alert. I can't promise when I'd split again; it can even be now. So don't slack off. I trust you on this," he concluded, handing me a pen along with the papers that needed my signature.

As I hesitantly took the pen, my hand trembled slightly. The weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders as I realized the gravity of the decision before me. With a shaky hand, I signed the papers, sealing a deal that would bind me to this mysterious and somewhat intimidating man.

As I stood there, watching him leave the room, a sense of unease crept over me. His firm handshake and lingering smirk left me feeling unsettled. The details of the arrangement replayed in my mind - starting work next Monday, his number on the contract, and the suggestion that packing may not be necessary.

I couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty that lingered. What kind of work environment was I about to step into? Would I be prepared for whatever awaited me next week? Questions flooded my mind, and I began to doubt my decision to accept the job offer.

Despite my reservations, there was a small glimmer of excitement at the prospect of a new opportunity. I took a deep breath, trying to push aside my concerns and focus on the potential for growth and challenge that this new role could bring.

As I gathered my thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder: What have I really got myself into?

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•••°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey there!

I'm so excited to finally share my original fiction with all of you! This is the first chapter, and I really hope you enjoy it. I can't wait to hear what you have to say about it!

Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me. Feedback is always welcome, whether it's positive or constructive criticism. Your opinions mean a lot to me, and I value each and every one of them.

Also, the taglist is open, so if you'd like to be added to it to make sure you don't miss any updates, just let me know! I want to make sure everyone who's interested in my work can stay in the loop.

I want to give you a heads up that I don't have fixed update schedules. I have a lot of things going on and need to organize and adjust my time accordingly. So, expect random updates at any time. I know it's not very author-like, but I promise I'll make it up to you with the quality of the chapters I release.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. Your support means the world to me.

Your quirky author here ❤️🤗

TAGLIST: @hush-hush-baby

Idk if I can watch Yoons new MVs, I feel so fucking guilty and like I’m a shitty fan but even just the pics and posts about him smoking in the mv are making me so fucking uncomfortable and nauseous. And like I know realistically it’s possibly a fake smoke that actors use when they don’t smoke but it still makes me so fucking uncomfortable. Like I get the reason he’s done it but it’s really fucked with me and I know I have no right to feel this way but ugh. Idk how to describe it. I just feel so fucking shit rn. Like one post made be feel PHYSICALLY pale and nauseous, it was like that feeling when you get the cold sweats.

(TW: mentions of smoking trauma. Trauma rant)

This may be a controversial topic. But if you suspect an idol of vaping or smoking, keep it to your fucking self. If they do smoke I don’t wanna know about it because it genuinely really triggers me when people point it out. Like I know this is a toxic idea but it really fucking changes my view of people when I find out the might smoke. Like I saw a Koreaboo post about an idol possibly accidentally showing a vape on live and it actually made me feel physically I’ll. Like I had a physical reaction and it’s actually made me feel really uncomfortable and shitty. Like my skin went clams and I literally felt myself go pale and my stomach turn. I have huge trauma around smoking and I can’t get over the way it makes me feel when rumours come up around people I look up to smoking. Like I know I have no right to feel like I’ve been betrayed by that idol if they are smoking but I do. And I’m sick of people pointing it out cause i literally feel myself tear up cause it feels like someone I trusted had stabbed me. And idk if it’s the autism or the CPTSD but it makes me feel physically ill. Like I’m not exaggerating when I say it literally made me go pale and feel like I couldn’t breathe. And like it’s not even as if I can try to avoid it because I already fucking do my best to avoid it but I literally can’t because it’s fucking everywhere. And I know I probably sound super selfish and self centred but can you guys just shut the fuck up and keep it to yourself if you suspect an idol of smoking. Like some of us don’t wanna know about that shit and y’all make it impossible to avoid it. I’m so fucking tired. I already feel like everything is going to fucking shit in my life and I’ve already had a fucking breakdown today and I’m so fucking tired and I fucking hate how much this has fucking affected me cause y’all can’t mind your own fucking business and keep your suspicions to yourselves.

We had a family meeting tonight around the fire pit. Mom started it off, and opened the door for me to advocate for myself. I finally really told my dad and brother everything I’m dealing with; the physical and mental pain, the depression, the suicidal thoughts and the drastic steps I’ve taken to avoid giving in to them, the nightmares that keep me awake at night and don’t come during the day, the PTSD that I’m having to work through in therapy that my own mind has caused. Everything. How unseen and burdensome I feel.

I think I reached my dad, at least. I don’t know about my brother. Time will tell.

Thank you everyone who made sure I’m okay and offered your support—even if all you did was like the last post(edit:it’s now deleted). It’s all made me feel validated and heard 😊

Read the story.

There still 200 Armenian pows(maybe more) in az captivity!!

TW ANOREXIA TRIGGERING

I think my anorexia is coming back, I start to eat less and less, I have no apettite, I'm scared to eat or try things that I don't know how many calories they have. I started to increase Symfaxin, which I have prescribed for depressive anxiety neurosis and maybe that is why I have no appetite, I feel sick after eating, even after small portions. I started to lose weight and I am very happy about it, but I remember what a bitch anorexia is and that is what I'm afraid of.

My ED is starting to take over again, and I’m scared. I thought that I was over this. I’m trying hard to fight through this, but I think I’m losing.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and I can't see me. I ask myself 'is that really me?'. The memory of the first time this happened still haunts me and I relive it over and over and over. Objectively I know that it's me, but when I see my face I can't see me and when I see my body I can't see me, no matter how hard I try. In fact I have a hard time even conceptualizing a holistic image of my outer appearance. Its just all disconnected features, that don't fit together and that, even If I were able to add them up, wouldn't look like me.

I have a special quarrel with my female body. I feel utterly disgusted even by the mere possibility of getting pregnant. I hate the fact that I am able to get pregnant, to an extent that I would probably end my life If I ever did, even If with the option of abortion. Even thinking about it right now is physically painful. My chest hurts and I want to throw up. Just how it looks is upsetting to me as well, but I don't know why.

This has sabotaged all my sexual and thus also all my romantic relationships with men and woman alike. I tends to get with feminine men with long hair, but I ask myself constantly 'what If I don't want to be with them, what If I want to be them?'. What makes it especially suspicious is that I like guys who may look like me If I were male almost to a 't' the same hair and eye color and clothing style, roughly similar in height, weight and facial features. If the men I had dated would have been woman, I would have had dated my doppelganger. Its creepy.

Is it bc it's a female body or is it just bc I hate how it looks? I know I want it to be firmer and skinner, although I way at most 55 kilograms at a height of almost 170 centimeters. Its the same thing yet again: I know I'm not ugly by societal standards bc people have told me so all my life. I know that my face outshines my body by millennia though. But even my face I can't really say I feel like it's beautiful. Its just there.

When I look at myself I don't feel the sensation I usually get when looking at something I find visually pleasing. I wear extravagant or weird clothing and make up, that I think are beautiful, in order to help the disconnect. But its not enough and I come to realize maybe it will never be. I have been living like this ever since I was a pre teen. I turn twenty-one soon. It's been ten years and I'm tired. Sometimes I imagine myself in a male body. Sometimes it gives me a sense of peace, most times it scares me to death.

I have a difficult relationship with being a woman, in the social sense, being assigned female at birth. Being raised as a woman was incredibly painful to me at times, not bc my gender expression, witch was always feminine, clashed with the expectations but my personality did, in a big way. Yet when I look around at other woman I can see the same hurt in their stories. I can see myself in them in a way I will never be able to do with a man. My relationships with woman as a woman are the most defining of my life. Female companionship is life changing. Only among woman I can almost feel what might be called freedom, what might be called peace. I realized: I could never live life as a man. I don't want to live life as a man. But should I be male, am I a man? Maybe non-binary? But what do I do with my body in that case? I don't know, I just don't know. It kills me.

Maybe seek professional help and not rant on tumblr, but one of those costs money and the other is free. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I am dysphoric, but I do have genetic dispositions for depression, bipolar and schizophrenia, so who knows. I just know that this can't be normal. Or do other people live like this just fine? In this agony?

As a side note: This was pretty heavy stuff and I am truly and deeply sorry If I failed to tag one of your triggers. If you feel like it just hit me up and I'll add it. I also thought about adding a trans tag but I think I invade your spaces enough already, so please also hit me up If you think I should take a tag off this post.

Let's talk SH

Content Warning. Major Discussions of S*lf H*rm mostly the context of alternatives (descriptions kept to a minimum). Please be mindful of your own triggers, and read at your own pace, look after yourselves, that kind of thing. Please. 💜

Many of my councillors, therapists, and psychologists have told me to 'just do it in red pen' instead of doing it with a blade, this is a great idea. If and only if, you have broken the original desire for pain. We really want to be finding options that distract our brains rather than giving them time to ruminate.

So let's jump right into some of our most effective alternative options.

(Please be aware, we do not condone starting to SH if you can avoid it, there are better options. This list is intended for those of us who already have issues with SH)

If you're struggling, please reach out.

Global Suicide Hotlines: https://faq.whatsapp.com/1417269125743673

https://www.depression.org.nz/

distraction based solutions

Make a playlist. Jump into Spotify, Apple Music, YT music, burn a CD, just Collect Music That Fits Your Feelings in the moment.

Crack open that recorder you haven't touched since your first year of school, bang on the pots and pans... make a racket, scream to the heavens.

I mean in this in 100% seriousness: if you have a video game that you like, play it. No ones care if you're playing Roblox, blowing up TNT in Minecraft (extremely satisfying), stealing cars in GTA, whacking up a storm in Wii Sports Resort Swordfighting, playing Fireboy & Watergirl on CoolMathGames, solving puzzles in the Legend of Zelda, do the wordle, code something on Scratch, or playing some random game you installed yesterday; get your brain busy and get it occupied. Especially if you can beat up on something (mass murdering bokoblins in LoZ AoC, anyone?)

Play with the ✨bored button✨ https://www.boredbutton.com/

Video games not your thing? How about Sodoku? Solitaire? Word find?

Read a book

Call or text a friend. Easier said than done, especially if you feel like you're burdening them, but this can really help. You don't even have to talk to them about what you're going through. Ring up your local autistic or ADHD friend; ask them about their current hyperfixation, by the time they're done, there's a good chance you'll have forgotten everything.

Find a new research topic. Open Wikipedia to a random page (just type "Special:Random" in the general search box or click that link), spend the next several hours learning about it and following all the hyperlinks.

Get your body moving, YouTube workouts can be great for this if you're confined.

some kind of pain w/o pain

Make a character. Write about them. Hurt them. Put them through hell and back again. Write someone else's pain. Even if your character is hurting themselves, it's better than hurting you. Even if it's absolutely terrible writing. We're not looking for the next best-selling novel here (most likely no one else will even see it), we're only looking for someway for you to externalise your hurt.

Find a book or fan fiction. There are plenty of books out there with scenes where someone's in pain. Alternatively, jump onto A03, find a fandom you like, pop 's*lf h*rm' into the tags, most fandoms there's at least one. (Please be mindful of trigger warnings here and whether seeing characters in pain makes it worse).

Write out every single reason you want to hurt yourself on your skin. Leave it until the urge dies down. Wash it off.

Run a blunt object over your hands. I find thumb stones super helpful. Fidget with a fidget toy, keep your hands busy.

If you can sing, sing. Scream in the shower.

Paint, draw, colour. Scribble everywhere. D r a w. Draw an arm, and draw yourself bleeding if it helps.

Write terrible poetry. This is the main thing that's helped me.

pain without injury (not ideal)

rubber band around your wrist, snap it a lot.

suck on an ice cube

eat something super sour (or super spicy!)

run something pointed (not sharp) against your skin

draw on yourself with henna, or make up

speaking of, SFX wounds made of makeup? amazing.

have a very hot, or absolutely freezing shower

If you're up to figuring out why you want to hurt, sometimes this can help too. And ofc, I always suggest journalling out your thoughts.

And here's a website with some more

https://projectlets.org/alternatives-to-selfharm

Please add your own suggestions in the comments! I'd love to hear what helps

Genuinely, the main goal here is to keep your body unhurt in someway. Stay safe out there <3

We needed somewhere to collect viable self harm alternatives because yk, mental illness is as mental illness does.

(Vent/Rant/SU thoughts mentions)

Does anyone have that one line from their parents that they HATE the most?…

I won’t go to full detail…but I made a mistake while doing the dishes and my dad said ‘no one asked you to do that’ and I HATE that time

I hate it because it make me feel like I can’t do anything unless I am being told to….make me feel like that I’ll mess anything up and do it wrong til I’m told to…

Sometime I wish I can just take all my dose and just die…no one asked me to live so…..what’s the point?….no one asked me to fight?…

I know I’m probably overdramatic…but I really hate that line…because it make me feel like I can’t do anything enough and no matter what happens…I can’t be any good unless I’m at the point I wanna die…the point I wanna kill myself…..

Sorry for this rant/vent……I just need to let it out

SMG4 OCS LORE SHORT COMIC

USED TO

Comic by me(first comic I made). Cole and Lucia belongs to me. Comic is below cut. Hope you enjoy

Trigger warning:Death, Gun, and Blood

there's also this article

YourTango

Women Are Coming Forward With Awful Claims About Nicholas Braun—Inside The Disturbing Allegations About Succession's Cousin Greg

Some might say the allegations are only rumors, but that would discredit the lived experience of multiple women.

Succession fans shouldn't fucking forget about Nick Braun being a predator btw. We need to hold him accountable. I mean I'm still watching Succession because none of the allegations came out until the last season started airing, and with none of it being reported in the press, I wouldn't be surprised if people don't know but like. All of us were talking about it for like a day or so and then we all conveniently forgot.

Here's a Twitter thread compiling some of the allegations and here's the original tiktok that brought this to light. Do not forget this happened, and don't go back to stanning his ass.

honestly, this has nothing to do with what i will usually post, but i wanted to say something. aaron taylor johnson was groomed. he was 18 when they first met, she was 42. twenty fucking four year age gap. now, im well aware that it is technically legal. but, eighteen still has the word “teen” in it. they’re still a teenager. vulnerable, young, and immature. your frontal lobe does not fully develop until 25.

age gap relationships are weird in my opinion, but that doesn’t mean they’re wrong. (most of them) however, in this case, he was 18. he was still incredibly vulnerable as a person and it’s just.. odd for a 42 year old to want to date a fucking 18 year old. is that not weird to you people? answer me this ; what do a 42 year old and 18 year old have in common? correct answer is NOTHING.

to aaron, i know he’ll never see this, but im just going to say it, i genuinely hope he gets out. i hope he seeks help, i hope he gets that help. he needs to get out. it might take a while, but i really hope he’ll get out.

to sam, go fuck yourself. you deserve nothing. you’re weird.

grooming definition by the way for anyone who thinks im exaggerating ;

also, yes, im aware he perused her, but an 18 - 19 year old is going to be immature and irrational. her, a 42 year old woman, should have known that. and she most likely did.

and by the way, im a victim of grooming myself, so i know what it’s like.

Church Boy-Failure

TW

I walked home instead of riding the bus. I couldn't face that fucking freak and his stoner buddy.

When I got home, my father was sitting in the living room. He always loved that chair, potentially more than he loved me.

"Travis."

"Father."

"I have a question."

"Yes, sir?" I ask, heart racing. "Do you think I'm a monster?" he asked, calm as ever. "No! Of course not, father!" I protested, dropping my school bag. "Oh?" he stated, giving me a subtle look of surprise. "Really? Then tell me why... tell me why you are so scared of me." 

"What...?"

"You heard me, son."

"..."

"Go on...Tell me...If you aren't scared."

"Well...because you are my father and I know you love me. The punishments hurt but I am deserving of them! You are teaching me." 

"Good. To your room. Now."

"Yes, sir."

I grabbed my bag and then walked up to my bedroom, sitting on my mattress that was resting on the floor. After an hour or so, I fell asleep. My dream was weird.

-DREAM-

I walked into the school's bathroom. Sobs and cries emanated from a stall. "Hello? Are you okay?" I called out. 

The voice was not mine.

So familiar, yet I couldn't pinpoint it.

"I'm fine! Go away, fucking freak..." the hidden voice replied, voice cracking. "I just want to help..." I muttered, embarrassment hinting in my tone. "I don't need your pity!" the voice yelled, slightly distorted. "I'm sorry..." I apologized, walking away and back through the doors. 

"Faggot!" the voice yelled as I walked through the doors. I didn't pay it any mind. But now, I was in my bedroom. Not my actual bedroom, one that was supposed to be mine. I lay in blue covers, blue sheets, blue hair, blue eyes, and blue pills...

My vision was funky and weird. 

I grabbed for something on the side of my bed. With a small 'pop!' I could see better. "Sal!" a voice called from the next room. Involuntarily, I got up and fell into a deep abyss upon stepping off my bed.  

That's when I woke up. I sat up in my bed, sweating and shaking. A moment later, my father walked in. "Travis, I suggest you begin to prep the table. That is, unless, of course, you aren't eating." he said, then closed the door and exited. 

I sighed softly and left my room. My father was in the living room, he was reading a book. "Prick..." I thought. 

*Time Skip*

I finished setting the table and alerted my father. "Father, the table is set." I informed, tending to my seat across from where my father will sit. "Good." he answered. When he arrived at the table, he sat and we began to pray.

(Sorry, I'm not religious and I don't want to include an actual prayer. I don't know what to put and it doesn't exactly matter anyways. I hope you all understand!)

"Amen." we finished. 

Dinner went by silently, it used to be comfortable and talkative when mother was here. I miss her...so much...

After dinner, I went back up to my room and lay down. Not to sleep, but to think and relax. Two hours passed and my father burst into my room. "Travis. Your teacher has informed me that you need math tutoring and that you could also tutor someone yourself, get up." he demanded. "Yes, father." 

I obediently got up and walked to the door, waiting for further instructions. "Come." he commanded. I followed my father down to the front door and waited by his side. A few muffled voices were heard on the other side, and my heart beat up. 

My father sighed in exasperation and looked over at me. He scowled and smacked the back of my head. "Act proper. You fucking failure..." he demanded, muttering the last part. "Yes, sir." I replied, fixing my posture and smiling. My father opened the door and there he fucking was...

Larry Johnson...

He was wearing a white button-up and some beige dress pants with loafers. His hair was brushed and pulled into a ponytail. 

Oh my fucking...

My fists clenched but I forced a smile. "Hello, Larry." I greeted, smiling until my face hurt. "Hey, Travis!" he responded, shaking my hand. "Hello, Mr. Phelps." Larry said, shaking my father's hand as well. 

"Good evening, Mr. Johnson. It's so nice to see you. I know you'll be a great influence on Travis. If there's any trouble, don't hesitate to bring him home immediately..." 

Little did Larry know, that was a threat. "Of course, Mr. Phelps! Can he come now? I don't want to be out too late!" Larry asked, faking it all. "Yes. He can go. I suggest bringing him home tomorrow morning." My father said, eying me. 

"Yes, sir! Will do!" Larry agreed, smiling harder. "Great." my father said, smiling again.

*Time Skip*

After my father and Larry stopped talking, he allowed me to follow him back to his apartments. He lived in Addison, they were right by the church, so I knew exactly where they were located. 

*Time Skip*

We got to the apartments and walked in. Larry grabbed a keycard from his pocket, and we started to descend. "Oh my fucking god!" Larry exclaimed, ripping off his button-up to reveal a brown shirt with the letters "SF" printed in the middle. 

"What are you going to do to me?" I exasperatedly asked. "Nothing, that's a question better fit for Sal." Larry answered. As soon as he said that the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. "Come on, my room this way." Larry nonchalantly said. "Okay?" I responded, following right behind.

We walked into a nice-looking apartment, it was cozy and smelled like a home-cooked meal. I followed Larry into a room with a 'Do not Enter' sign on it. The room smelt of weed and smoke. There was a noticeable blue at the far end of the room.

Sal...

"Hey, Sal! I'm back with your boyfriend!" Larry yelled. "Shut up, Larry." Sal replied. I looked down and when I looked back up, Sal was right in front of me. He had no shirt on, and some baggy jeans that were barely on his hips. "Hey, Travis." Sal greeted. 

I was in a trance.

I could see his waist, it looked so fragile and small. His hips were defined and curved. The way I could see the little lines leading into his pants and a small part of his blue happy trail. I could even see a part of his boxers. "Travis?" Sal asked again, snapping his fingers in front of my face. 

"Yea?" I ask, finally paying attention. "Are you okay?"

"Yep."

"Alright, do you wanna help me with English or do you wanna study math?"

"Um..."

"..."

"Let's do the literature. I can get all my frustration out with that first."

"Ha, okay. I can get the textbook, just give me a second."

"Alright."

Sal walked over to Larry's bed and flipped over the covers. After searching for a second, he found it and lifted a large textbook. "Found 'em!" he shouted, scurrying back over to me. He grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the bed. Pushing me down onto the covers, he plopped next to me. 

"Ok, so, I didn't understand this metaphor, could you explain it to me? Like, I understand it's a metaphor for how sad the poet is, but what exactly does it mean?" Sal asked, pointing to a line near the center of the page. "Oh, it's about how they feel unappreciated." I answered, explaining why.

"I get it! Oh my god, thank you!" Sal yelled, throwing his arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. "Mhm, no problem." I said, coldly. "Wish the teachers had explained it like that!" Sal joked, breaking away. "Yep..." I replied, grabbing my hands and putting them in between my thighs. 

"Alright, time for math!" Sal said, getting up and grabbing a different textbook. "Okay..." I muttered, waiting for him to come back. Once he did, we flipped open to the correct page and started doing the problems one by one.

"Hey, Sal! You want a hit?" Larry called from across the room, holding up a blunt. "Yeah, gimme a sec." Sal replied, helping me finish the problem and then going over to Larry. He loosened his mask and lifted it a little. I saw a part of his face.

He had a deep gash in his cheek and a large hole missing on his other one. His lips were pink and scarred with little white lines. He had perfect white teeth that contrasted with his pale skin. I felt my face heat up, but I didn't know why. 

He put the blunt to his lips and pulled it away after a second. 

Sal noticed my staring and put his mask back down. He breathed out and smoke escaped from his eye and mouth slits. "Sorry, didn't mean to stare." I murmured, looking back down. "You gay or something? You're all red and shit." Larry asked. "No! I'm not a faggot!" I yelled, standing up. "Chill out, it was a joke." Larry retorted, rolling his eyes. "Whatever..." I said, sitting back down.

I was just sitting there, waiting for Sal to finish his smoke. "Hey, Larry?" I called out, grabbing the greasy teens' attention. "Yea?" He asked. "Do you have a cigarette?" I nervously asked, hoping he would say yes. "Oh shit. Thought you were some goody-two-shoes little Christian boy. Never mind, Mr. Badass." Larry joked, grabbing in his jean pocket and pulling out a green box.

"Thanks, I'll be right back." I said, walking out through the door in the back of his room. 

I stepped outside and it was freezing. I pulled a lighter from my pocket and lit the cigarette. I looked out into the field; a tall treehouse was sitting upon a large oak tree. I was curious, I'd just ask when I went back inside. I took one last hit of the cigarette before throwing it on the ground and putting it out with my shoe. 

Sal's POV:

We finished the last problem, and I went over to Larry to smoke. Larry gave Travis a cigarette and he went out back. Wonder if he'll see the treehouse. I bet he will. After he left, I lifted my mask and smoked some more. I heard the door creak open again and a very cold Travis enter. He was shaking and his nose and cheeks were red. 

"Hey, Travis." Larry kindly greeted, piquing my interest. "Hey?" Travis responded, also confused at his sudden kindness. "Looks like you're a little cold." Larry commented, still kind. "Yea? Thanks for pointing out the obvious." Travis replied, sitting on the floor. "Yep."

"So? What the fuck was that?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see if he was cold. I know how to fix that."

"Larry, what are you getting at?"

"Well, maybe Sal could warm you up a little."

"I'm not gay!"

"Sal is."

"He is?"

"Yep."

"Oh..."

I was still sitting on the ground next to Larry. I noticed that Travis turned to look at me. We locked eyes for a second before I looked back at the ground, ears heating up. 

Travis' POV:

I looked over at Sal. We just looked at each other for a second before he looked away. His ears and neck got all red and I stifled a laugh. "So, you guys wanna play a game?" Larry asked. "Sure!" Sal quickly agreed, likely hoping to forget the fact he just got outted. 

"Travis, you in?" Sal asked, ears and neck still cooling off. I shrugged my shoulders and crawled over to them. "So, what are we playing?" I ask. "I dunno, truth or dare?" Sal suggested. "Sure." Larry agreed.

They both turned their attention towards me, and I shrugged my shoulders, in a way, agreeing to the game. "Alright, Sal, truth or dare?" Larry asked. "Dare!" Sal answered. "Okay, okay. I dare you to...uhm...oh! I dare you to throw it back." Larry said a shit-eating grin plastered boldly on his face, the gap in his teeth barely visible. 

Sal's eyes scrunched up, signaling he was smiling. He nodded silently and walked to the center of the room. He crouched and arched his back, hands on knees. He began to aggressively move around, looking similar to a seizure. After he was done, it was Sal's turn to ask.

Larry's face had gone red from stifling a laugh. He couldn't hold it any longer and burst into a fit of boyish giggles and hiccups. After he caught his breath, we continued the game. "Alright, Travis, truth or dare?" Sal asked. "Truth." I answered, not really trying to participate in this game. "Aww, whatever. Is it true that...you're straight?" Sal asked, eyes staring right into me. 

Once again, my face got hot. "I'm not fucking gay! Holy shit! Why can't either of you understand that?!" I yelled, standing up and clenching my fists, and chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Sorry, dude." Sal apologized. "Whatever!" I yelled, walking out of the room and to the bathroom. 

In there, I absorbed my surroundings.

Toilet.

Sink.

Faucet.

Bath.

Soap.

Tooth brush.

Tooth paste.

Razors.

Razors...

(originally posted May 17th 2023 on Wattpad)

"Church Boy." - Failure - Wattpad

“Hearts Entwined and Torn”– Part 2

**Summary:**

After a mission goes awry, Amber faces blame from the X-Men and becomes increasingly isolated. Her emotional state deteriorates, leading to a panic attack that goes unnoticed, further deepening her sense of abandonment.

TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attack

The weeks had turned into months, and the tension in the X-Mansion had only grown more palpable. Amber had buried herself in her duties, meticulously avoiding any personal interaction with Logan and Jean. Her interactions with them were curt and minimal, and she deliberately kept her distance. The mansion, once a sanctuary, had become a place of strained civility, where every glance and word seemed laden with unspoken resentment.

One fateful morning, the X-Men gathered for their mission briefing. The team was tasked with neutralizing a dangerous mutant causing havoc in a nearby city. The briefing was efficient and precise, but the usual camaraderie was absent. Amber and Jean were paired together for the mission due to an administrative mix-up, a situation that left Amber seething inwardly.

As the Blackbird soared through the night sky, the atmosphere in the cabin was fraught with tension. Amber sat at the far end of the cabin, her eyes fixed on the mission brief displayed on her tablet, pointedly ignoring Jean. Jean, too, avoided eye contact, her expression tense as she reviewed the mission parameters. The air was thick with unspoken animosity, and the silence was almost tangible.

The battle in the city was as brutal as it was chaotic. The mutant they faced was a formidable energy manipulator, able to project devastating blasts with precision. Despite their combined efforts, the mutant’s power was overwhelming. Amber and Jean found themselves cornered, their movements a strained dance of evasion and counterattacks.

“Watch out!” Amber shouted as the mutant launched another energy blast. She raised a protective shield just in time, but the mutant’s accuracy was deadly. Jean attempted to counter the blast with her telekinesis, but the force was too great, and her defenses buckled under the pressure.

A massive burst of energy hit Jean, sending her crashing into a nearby building. Amber’s attempt to shield her was too late; the blast had already struck its target. The shockwave threw Amber to the ground, and she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding.

The X-Men quickly subdued the mutant, but their focus soon shifted to Jean, who lay unconscious and injured amidst the rubble. The team rushed to her side, their expressions turning grim as they assessed her condition.

Storm knelt beside Jean, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her concern. “She’s hurt badly. We need to get her back to the mansion immediately.”

As the team gathered around Jean, Logan’s gaze shifted to Amber. His frustration was palpable. “Amber, why didn’t you do more to protect Jean?”

Amber’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief. “I was doing my best, Logan. It wasn’t my fault.”

Logan’s face hardened, his lack of sympathy clear. “You were supposed to be her partner. If you had been more focused, this might not have happened.”

The rest of the X-Men murmured among themselves, the atmosphere thick with accusations. “If Amber had been more committed, this wouldn’t have happened,” said Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler. “She clearly has issues with Jean.”

Logan nodded in agreement. “It’s possible Amber’s personal feelings affected her performance,” he said, his voice lacking conviction.

Amber’s heart sank as she heard the murmurs of blame. The isolation she felt was suffocating. The mansion, once a home, now seemed like a prison. The cold stares and whispered accusations made her feel like a pariah.

In the medical bay, Hank McCoy worked tirelessly to stabilize Jean. Logan paced the room, clearly frustrated, but not showing any particular sympathy for Amber. Rogue, standing beside Hank, occasionally glanced at Amber with a mix of pity and suspicion.

Hank finally emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. “Jean’s stable for now, but her injuries are severe. She’ll need a long recovery.”

The team’s whispers grew louder, their accusatory tones more pronounced. “It’s clear Amber’s personal issues with Jean affected her performance,” Rogue said quietly. “She should have done more.”

Despite the growing chorus of blame, Amber remained isolated. The mansion’s communal areas became places she avoided, and she retreated to her room for meals and solitude. The once-familiar routines felt alien, and the growing divide between herself and the team was evident.

The isolation began to take its toll on Amber. Each day felt like a relentless wave of anxiety and despair, crashing over her and dragging her deeper into a state of emotional numbness. The whispers and accusations reverberated in her mind, fueling a growing sense of dread.

One evening, after another strained interaction with the team, Amber retreated to her room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her anxiety was a constant, gnawing presence, and it only intensified as she closed the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her breathing.

Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably, a chaotic mix of guilt, shame, and loneliness. She felt trapped in a nightmare where every misstep seemed magnified and every failure insurmountable. The walls of her room felt like they were closing in, and her chest tightened with the onset of an anxiety attack.

Amber’s breathing grew rapid and shallow, her vision blurring as the room seemed to spin around her. Her hands clutched her chest, trying in vain to calm the storm inside. The panic was overwhelming, and she struggled to get a grip on her racing thoughts. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air, her mind screaming for relief.

Her vision darkened at the edges, and she felt a dizzying sensation that only compounded her fear. Her heart raced uncontrollably, and she felt herself slipping away from consciousness. With a final, anguished cry, she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and unresponsive.

The room was eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum of the mansion’s machinery outside her door. No one came to check on her, and the isolation was complete. The mansion, once a place of camaraderie, had become a realm of loneliness where Amber’s suffering went unnoticed.

Hours later, when she finally regained consciousness, she found herself alone. The initial shock of her panic attack had subsided, leaving her feeling exhausted and hollow. The room was dark, and the only light came from a faint glow outside the window. Amber lay still on her bed, her body aching and her mind in a fog.

In the days that followed, Amber’s presence in the mansion became increasingly ghost-like. Her attempts to engage with the team were met with stony silence or outright dismissal. When she tried to join conversations, her words seemed to vanish into the air, unnoticed and unacknowledged. The X-Men acted as though she was invisible, their conversations continuing without pause as if she were not there.

One day in the common room, Amber tried to join a discussion about an upcoming mission. She approached the group with a tentative “Hey, can I—” but was cut off by a sudden, intentional shift in the conversation. The team members, including Logan and Jean, turned their backs or began speaking over her, ignoring her presence entirely.

Amber’s attempts to interact with the team were met with a consistent pattern of cold indifference. If she tried to speak up during meetings, her comments were dismissed or overlooked. When she passed by, conversations would pause abruptly, only to resume in hushed tones once she had moved on. The isolation was not just emotional but social; Amber was increasingly relegated to the periphery of the team’s life.

The once-vibrant communal spaces became places where Amber felt like a mere observer. She sat alone in the cafeteria, her meals untouched as she watched the others interact, their laughter and camaraderie a painful reminder of what she had lost. Even in the midst of the team, she felt like a ghost, her existence ignored and her presence unacknowledged.

Despite her growing despair, Amber continued to perform her duties with the same precision she always had. Her work remained impeccable, but her interactions were now reduced to the bare minimum required. The team’s continued avoidance only deepened her sense of abandonment, and she felt increasingly trapped in a cycle of isolation and emotional numbness.

Amber’s isolation was now complete. The mansion, once a place of shared experiences and connections, had become a realm of solitude where she was left to grapple with her pain and loneliness. The team’s unintentional but deliberate exclusion was a constant reminder of the chasm that had grown between her and those she once called friends.

@fulltigertaco-blog

“Hearts Entwined and Torn”- Part 3

**Summary**

Amber, injured and feeling ignored by the X-Men during a mission, makes a drastic decision after confronting the team. They are left stunned by her choice.

The X-Men were deep in the heart of the city, battling the most dangerous mutant they had ever encountered. The chaos of the fight was overwhelming, and Amber’s desperate pleas for help were swallowed by the cacophony. “Help! I need backup!” she shouted, but her voice was lost in the fray.

“Hold on, Amber!” Cyclops’s voice crackled over the comms, but his words felt empty. Amber could see that the X-Men were too engrossed in the battle to come to her aid.

When the mutant was finally subdued, Amber limped back toward the team, pain evident in her strained movements. A deep gash on her side bled through her shirt, each step a sharp reminder of her injury. The X-Men, finally victorious, barely acknowledged her pain as they regrouped.

The ride back to the mansion was heavy with silence. Amber sat in the corner, her side throbbing and her emotions raw. Her silence was a painful counterpoint to the team’s casual conversation.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Amber moved directly to her room. She was barely noticed until the sound of her door slamming reverberated through the halls.

“Amber?” Jean’s voice cut through the uneasy quiet, her tone laced with concern. The team turned, realizing something was amiss.

Storm and Cyclops hurried to Amber’s room. They found her packing her belongings with harsh, jerky movements. The injury on her side was severe, and she flinched with every motion. “Amber, what’s going on?” Storm asked, her eyes wide with worry.

Amber zipped her bag, her face a storm of anguish and resolve. “I’ve had enough. Not only did you all ignore me, but you also made me feel like it was my fault that Jean got injured. And Logan…” Her voice broke as she turned to him. “You betrayed me in the worst way possible. I can’t stay here anymore.”

Cyclops stepped forward, his face twisted with regret. “Amber, we didn’t mean to ignore you. We were just… caught up in the mission.”

Amber’s eyes were fiery with hurt. “Caught up? That’s an excuse for leaving me to get hurt while you focused on something else? And you, Logan—how can you stand there after what you did? After everything?”

Logan’s face was etched with remorse and guilt. “Amber, I know I messed up. I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix anything, but please, don’t do this.”

Amber shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “Sorry doesn’t erase the betrayal or the pain. You all treated me like I didn’t matter, and now I can’t even trust you to fix it. I’m done.”

Logan reached out, desperation in his voice. “Please, just… don’t leave like this. We can work things out. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

Amber’s resolve hardened. “There’s nothing left to say. I’ve made my decision.”

With a final, pained look at Logan, Amber opened the door and stepped out into the night. The cold air hit her like a slap, but it was nothing compared to the emotional chill left behind. Logan watched, paralyzed, as she walked away, her figure dissolving into the darkness. The X-Men stood in the doorway, their faces masks of guilt and despair, as the weight of Amber’s departure and the impact of their actions sank in.

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