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writersblockedx · 1 year

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Spare me the Details

Pairing - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader Summary - In a desperate act to secure their Kook status, Y/n's parents set her up with the notorious Kook King, Rafe Cameron. The only person to hate it more than Y/n herself is her best friend, JJ. Warnings - Slight sexism, implications of sex, drug and alcohol use, mentions of violence Words - 5k

A/n - I wasn’t sure about posting this but I finally thought that I may as well. I also might write a part two depending on if any of you would want that!

Read Part Two Here Masterlist

Y/n's family were barely skimming above the surface of Kook. Their family had been cemented in the Kook history books for years now, buying into the several country clubs, the yachts and the property that was would sit on figure 8 just waiting to be used. But as time when on and business took a dive, they found the water they had once been paddling in start to become rough and they weren't so sure they would still be standing after the next wave hit.

They'd rented out the once-empty property, opted out of some of the expensive sports they never had any interest in to begin with and kept their spending habits to a minimum. Yet, debt was gaining on them. If they weren't too careful, they'd be looking at a new house on the Cut. But they still had one trick up their sleeve. One of archaic ideals and one of which Y/n herself was very much against when it first came to light.

"No," Was the first word to slip from her tongue. Her body was hovering in the doorway between their front yard and the foyer. "I won't do it."

Her parents stared her down, sympathetic yet stern. "We wouldn't be asking if we had any other choice."

She had found herself speechless. She had been so close to leaving for the day, the van holding her friends only meters away. Just as she was about to leave, her mother caught sight of her, and dropped this bomb like it was nothing. "Yes, we do!" Y/n continued to argue. "My friends out there are mostly pogues, it's not the end of the world if that's what we become. I mean mom you never even liked half the people who attended the country club."

"We're trying to keep this family afloat," Said her father.

She could barely believe it. "So you'd rather sell your daughter's freedom away than have to live like a pogue." The girl scoffed.

"We're not selling anything." They defended.

Y/n was ready to quip back at them both, unaware of the fourth figure that was emerging from behind her. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs Y/l/n." JJ's joyful tone didn't blend too well with the tense atmosphere which had the family suffocating against the thick air. "I hate to break up this little, lovely conversation you guys are having, but we really should get going. Only so many hours in a day, right?" An awkward chuckle escaped his voice as he suddenly realised the stone expressions he was facing.

Y/n was already walking to JJ's side as she gave her last thoughts on the matter, "There's no way I'm doing it."

With that, she turned her back to them. "You two have a good day!" JJ's voice sung before he too turned, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulder, feeling her relax just at his touch. "The fuck was that about?" He wondered, voice much lower as to not alert the two adults which were still hovering by the door.

She couldn't explain it there and then. Rather she entered the back of van and kept quiet until they were all out on the HMS Pogue. The boat was practically stranded in the middle of the ocean as their conversation lulled against the salty air. Y/n and JJ were sat next to one another, so close their thighs were skimming against each other as they shared the joint JJ had just rolled. The others were paired off in their couples, sat as couples did, not daring to go a moment without the other's touch.

But, despite such, they had all listened to the rant which had been stumbling from Y/n's lips. And each of them were just as much against it as her - if not more so. "Right, right, let me get this straight." John B started as his eyes narrowed and his thoughts connected together the girl's explanation. "Your parents want you to get into Rafe Camron's pants-"

"My brother!" Sarah interjected as she held up a hand.

John B nodded at such before continuing on, "So that what? He feels inclined to help your family out financially?"

"Isn't that like prostitution?" JJ giggled from the girl's side, the joint caught between his fingertips. "Wait, what if I helped you out financially?" His brows were wiggling with a suggestive expression that the girl didn't play into.

"First off, I don't think you have the resources to help financially." She took the joint from him. "And second, this is serious JJ! Them and Ward have already arranged that we attend Midsummers together."

"I thought we weren't going to that?" Kie nagged, tied between Pope's arms.

The three girls, the three kooks, had all agreed to skip out on the event this year. Instead, they were going to crash at Sarah's empty house and have a much-needed girls break. "Yeah, well guess who doesn't have a choice anymore." Y/n huffed, pressing the joint to her lips before her head hit JJ's shoulder.

"And here I was thinking we were passed putting women up for marriage," Kie muttered, gaining a hum of agreement from the two other girls in the boat.

"Hey," Sarah thought as she sat up, John B's arm falling from her shoulders. "One good thing about having to get with my brother, we'll be able to hang out more."

A slight smile slithered across her lips, "And drown out my everlasting sorrow." She giggled.

"There is one thing your parents got wrong about this plan." Pope spoke up.

Y/n raised a brow, "Which is?"

"Simple. Getting you to hang out with Rafe Cameron is only going to make you hate him more."

While that had urged on laughs at the time, there was something Y/n had completely missed: how wrong they actually were.

The dreaded night started drawing in closer. She was forced to pick out a dress that her mom had approved of. Then came the plan and the spits of enthusiasm her parents nagged her with. All about how she must be polite and kind to the boy she barely knew; the feminism inside of her was bubbling in rage.

She had made several attempts to get out of the horrid death trap her parents had concocted, but her attempts were nothing but futile. An hours before the event started, she was trapped into the silk of her dress, the pins in her hair already itchy and her make up likely already smudged. It wasn't until they actually made it to the country club that she found a speckle of relief.

Waiting by the front of the building, were two familiar figures. Both in long, straight dresses, one a pale white and the other a shiny lilac. She'd never been so happy to see her best friends so kook-like. "You have no idea how much relief I feel right now." She thought aloud as she jogged ahead of her parents who were deep into their own conversation; something about the latest business updates.

The two girls welcomed her with needed hugs, "What are you even doing here?" Y/n questioned as she pulled away.

Kie and Sarah looked to one another, smiles lifting to their lips. "Well it's not really girls night without you." The blonde replied.

"And we might have brought some medicinals." Kie zipped open her bag, leaning over to showcase the couple of joints she had stashed there.

She joined in their smiles at that, "You know me too well."

"That hadn't been our idea actually," Sarah said.

Her words seemed to have been timed perfectly as two other figures came to either side of Y/n. Both boys letting their arms hang over her shoulders. She looked to her left: John B. And to her right, JJ. Both fit into shirts and bowties with smirks written into their far too smug expressions. Of course the joints had been JJ's idea.

"Looks like we're your busboys for tonight." John B chuckled.

JJ hummed in agreement as John B left her side to join his girlfriend. "If you're going to be getting tortured all night, what better entertainment for us?" He joked, causing Y/n to playfully smack at his chest.

Though such had only urged more laughs from the shaggy-haired boy. "Wow JJ, your support for me is everlasting." She shook her head but never left his side, just as his arm around her shoulder never left her. "What about Pope?"

Kie answered that by simply pointing towards a truck that was parked near the building. There was Heyward and his son lifting boxes to and from the back of truck. When Pope noted his girlfriend staring, he smiled then gave a wave, accompanied by a wink in return. "You know you really didn't have to do this." Y/n went on as she faced her friends once more.

JJ shrugged, "I've always wanted to crash a kook party." There followed a nod of agreement from John B.

Y/n glanced up at her blond friend, a cheeky glint in her eyes that he was known to fall for. "So what time do you busboys have to start working?" She looked back over at John B.

The boy checked his phone, "Ten minutes." He informed. "Why? What are you suggesting?"

Y/n reached over to Kie's bag, grasping the joints. There needed no reply from any of them. Once Kie had grabbed her boyfriend, the group scurried off to behind the building, right outside the kitchen. It was quiet apart from the background noise of plates rattling and the smell of sizzling food that only urged on the munchies which were sure to follow soon enough.

By the time their supply had run out, the sun had started to set against the water. The skies a blur of orange tones and blue ones as the air ran crisp. Pope had been the first to leave, muttering about how his dad was gonna kill him when he returned with a strange smell surrounding him. Sarah and Kie went afterwards, saying they'd keep an eye on Y/n when Rafe abducted her. Then John B, feeling as his he was a loose part around JJ and Y/n.

"You gonna be alright tonight?" He wondered, hands shoved into his trouser pockets as his feet kicked scatted pebbles under his shoes.

Y/n was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, "I'll get through it." She didn't seem to have another choice.

A moment passed between them when neither of them said anything. Then something seemed to switch in JJ as if he had just made a last minute decision. His hands retracted from his pockets and he wandered forward to where his friend was standing. Her eyes drew upward to him but she made no move from the wall. "This isn't like gonna turn into something is it?"

His question of seriousness was met with a giggle. "What? You think I'm gonna be corrupted to the dark side?" Y/n raised her hands and wiggled them in front of her face as she continued to make a noise of, "Ooo..."

But JJ caught her hands and her lips cut into a straight line. She pushed herself from the wall and watched JJ intently, "I'm serious, Y/n." And he was. For once in his life, JJ Maybank wasn't playing a joke, his words were ones holding concern and worry. "He's not just an up-tight, kook, jackass. He's friends with drug dealers, practically mental! Need I remind you what he did to Pope last year?"

Her hands soothed around his as her eyes softened against his stern ones. "Of course I haven't forgotten." She slipped one hand from his grip, letting it raise up and push his various stray hairs back behind his ear. "JJ, this won't turn into anything." She was certain of it because she certain of the love she held for the boy in front of her. "I promise."

JJ didn't say anything for a moment. His eyes danced around the woman's features as he debated his next move. A move of which could have paved a very different course for the months ahead. Alas, he simply nodded and let out, "I know." Before his hands dropped from hers, their skin feeling bitter with the others intertwined anymore. "I should probably go that way," He was pointing to the door which led to the kitchen that read 'staff only'.

He was already wandering towards it slowly, "Right yeah." Y/n muttered.

"I'll see you out there." He said.

"I'll be looking for you." Y/n made no move to turn yet. She waited until JJ slipped into the kitchen and she was left alone. Her head filled with taunting thoughts as she wondered if that moment prior could have been something more.

Alas, the girl stared at the empty space in front of her for a few seconds longer before she too left. They had different entrances to this kook party. Y/n wandered right through the front gates while JJ scurried around through the back door. But, despite such, they would still yearn for each other the whole night, catching glances subconsciously.

Y/n had barely the time to look for either Kie or Sarah before he parents had pulled her to one side, "Oh, there you are." Her mother leapt out a sigh of relief.

She was pulled into a circle of her mom, Ward and Rafe. This was where her torture started. "We were just talking about you." Ward said with a forced smile which made the girl sick.

"Oh, right?" She replied before swallowing the ever-growing lump in her throat.

The air became thick and Y/n wanted nothing more than to have another joint in her bag. She should have known to save one for the times like this. "You've met my son, right?" Ward moved along; smooth. He was gesturing over to Rafe who looked just as unbothered as she.

He sent a weak smile before the two were forced to shake hands. "You know now I think about it, I haven't spoken to Pamala yet." Said Y/n's mother. She should have known this was how the conversation was going to end.

She was already walking away when Ward started to follow, "Neither have I." He joined her side, muttering on with, "I heard she was filing for divorce..." Kook drama really was no interest to either her or Rafe.

Then again, neither was awkward silence. Which was what they were soon left with. "Our parents. The matchmakers, right?" He scoffed and let his posture fall once Ward was out of sight.

She hummed in agreement, "Yeah."

"You want a drink?" He questioned with raised brows.

Y/n looked over to the drink's table and squirmed at the thought of whatever they were severing. "If you mean some shitty mocktail, I think I'll pass."

By the time she was looking back, he had his blazer swung open slightly, grasping a flask from his inside pocket. "Not exactly." He murmured, pouring some into his own glass. "You want some?" His hand was out as an offer, not bothering to be discreet.

Her eyes flickered to the metal flask, she thought on it, but denied with the shake of her head. "I'm good thanks." Straight spirit with how much she had just smoked? Not a good idea, especially considering she was surrounded by up-tight kooks.

There came a light chuckle from Rafe which caused Y/n to keep her eyes on him. He slipped the flask back into his blazer as he said, "You mean because your high as shit right now?" She felt her body tense. "Jesus, relax, they didn't notice. Too busy playing cupid."

She relaxed a little. Her eyes traced the boy as his gaze shot across the sea, sipping his glass frequently. There came a huff from her lips before she moved, coming to his side, getting a view of the beach rather than a crowd of kooks she was sure were eating this up right now. "Are you gonna do it?" The question pierced the silence they were drowning it.

She looked to him but his eyes were still distant, "Do what?"

A second passed and Y/n watched as his head dropped before tilting over to settle on her. "Entertain this?" She felt like she couldn't look away, like his pupils were enticed with her own and it was sickening just the thought of such. "Your parents think that if their daughter is dating the son of the richest guy on the island, then they'll have help making sure their business doesn't fall to the shit." He explained like he was the puppeteer of this situation.

"That's sort of their plan, yeah." She replied, her head turning to spot her parents in the midst of Kook mania. Then she peered back over at Rafe whose eyes were secured on her, "What's in for you?" She asked, not sure if she was taking a step to far in this relationship she didn't know how to navigate yet.

He shrugged, "You're not the worse person I've met."

Y/n looked back, obviously offended as Rafe took a sly sip from his glass of god knows what. "You really know how to compliment a girl, huh." She commented with a scoff.

She hadn't realised Rafe had moved until he was right in front of her, far too close to her likely, staring down at her with no indication of what his next move was going to be. "You've got two options here." His voice was rough against the bitter air between them. "Option one, we play happy couple for the next few hours, leaving together and I'll drop you off home. Nothing more. Our parents go home happy and we can forget this night of torture." He went on to explain.

"And option two?" Her voice compared to his was drastically much more uncertain, any confidence torn from her under the stare of Rafe Cameron.

He gulped the last of his drink, his arm reaching over past Y/n as he placed it against the table behind them. And there, so close to touching, he whispered to her ear, "There's a game to be played."

He reacted his arm, leaning back as he awaited and watched carefully for her answer. She stood up fully, plucking her courage back, "I don't play games, Rafe." She told him.

He nodded and showed no emotion before taking a step, his arm hovering out for her to take. And with their new plan in mind, her arm hooked with his and they faced the sea of kooks. "And erm, on second thought, I might be wanting that drink."

A smirk rose to his lips before he looked across the patio of Kooks. He spotted what he needed, clicking his fingers to gain the waiter's attention, "Hey, yeah."

Y/n felt the breath leave her body when the familiar golden-haired boy turned. His piercing blue eyes settling in a glare at her and her linked arm. And while his jaw clenched and he struggled to meet Rafe, he had no choice but to play his part, "What can I do for you?" His words were tough like concrete.

"Just a drink for the lady." He gestured over to Y/n, seemingly enjoying this too much. Of course he was aware of Y/n and JJ. Half of the island were aware of Y/n and JJ. The will they won't they. The only kissed when they were drunk. The desperate pleas to convince those around them they were best friends, nothing more.

And Rafe revelled in the way he was stomping on that like it were a bug. "A coke please, JJ." And whatever substance was in Rafe's flask. She sent a smile which was never returned. Instead, he nodded his head and wandered inside where he didn't have to look at the pair.

With that, the two moved further into the crowd, giving into the useless small talk as they weaved through the people they had no care for. Y/n caught glances at Sarah and Kie whenever she were able. But they were unable to swoop in and save her, fearsome of Ward who seemed to be watching the couple from afar. Y/n was awaiting, silently pleading for the moment when Rafe turned to and announced he would take her home now.

She thought that moment was a coming when he turned to her between their travels around the crowd, "You still haven't gotten your drink." He observed.

The recall of JJ had caused the girl to look for him through the crowd. She found no speckles of that shaggy hair or the shirt he wasn't used to wearing. "Yeah, erm," Y/n replied mindlessly as her arm fell from his. "I'm gonna go look for him."

Rafe only gave a nod before watching the girl seep into the sea of people. That look on JJ's face hadn't left her mind. She wondered if he were alright, or maybe seeing his best friend with a kook, practically his sworn enemy, was all too much for him.

She had passed Pope on her way into the building, asking if he knew where JJ was. To which, she had gotten, "Nah, sorry, Y/n." In reply before the two went their separate ways.

Alas, she proceed into the building, turning passed the buffet and towards a small hallway. It was only once she turned the corner, she'd found JJ scrolling through his phone. "There you are." She let out a sigh of relief as she walked up to him. "You know you really shouldn't leave a girl waiting..." Her joyful expression faded when she met JJ's.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your moment." Her brows became knitted as a fit of anger, one similar to what was raging at JJ, started prodding her on.

"JJ, what are you eve-"

He took a step forward, so abrupt it had cut her words from her lips. "I told you Y/n not to let this turn into something and, gosh, look at you!" He was also close she could feel the fury escape his breath.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I stand by what I said. It's not turning into anything." She could recall the deal her and Rafe had made if she so needed.

"Really?" Her best friend scoffed. "You're all over him. I could practically see your drool from the kitchens."

"Oh my-" She shook her head before she continued, soft in her gaze. "JJ, trust me, he hates this just as much as I do, he-"

There came another scoff; he couldn't even bare to listen to her explain herself, "Sure doesn't look like it to me."

"JJ, just fucking listen to me please." He was silent after that, but his expression was screaming with the words he was desperate to let rip. "There's nothing going on and it's definitely not what it looks like. We both hate it, trust me. He said that if we get through this, looking all lovey-dovey, make our parents happy then that'll be the end of it. He said he'd drop me off at the end of the night and then we can all forgot it ever happened."

She watched slowly as his anger fizzled out until he was no longer looking at Y/n as if she'd just betrayed every fibre in his body. The girl took his hands in hers, "I'll get him to drop me at the Château, yeah? I'll see you there." She suggested.

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded with the slither of a smile. "I'm sorry for erm lashing out."

"It's fine, don't worry about it, JJ." She assured. "Trust me, if I were anywhere near romantically involved with Rafe Cameron, I'd want you to lash out at me." Y/n had yet to realise how them words were about to haunt her.

At the time, she had chuckled as had JJ and the man who rounded the corner was completely oblivious to what had just been said. "Hey, Y/n." Rafe announced his entrance. The two jolted their eyes to him as Y/n took a step away from JJ. "You get your drink?" The boy's eyes were grazing over at JJ, as if the two were silently fighting.

Y/n sighed as she left the blond boy's side, walking towards Rafe, "On second thought, how about we call it night, yeah?" She welcomed his arm as it trickled across her back, forcing him to turn so they were no longer facing JJ. Though, the girl still clearly caught the glare he sent the other boy.

But Rafe had stuck to his word. They had danced around the patio one last time, saying their goodbyes to anyone they cared enough for and then headed for Rafe's car. The car ride was unsurprisingly silent. Rafe's hand were practically gripping the steering wheel and Y/n truly didn't know what thoughts had caused such passive anger.

"Drop me off at John B's." She requested as she pulled the seatbelt over.

He glanced over as he pulled from the parking lot, "Not yours?" He raised a brow and she shook her head in reply. "Won't your parents want you home?"

She shrugged, "I sleep there all the time, they won't mind." And with that, there came no further argument as the boy shut his lips as headed towards the Cut.

She'd never admit it out loud, and certainly not infont of the pogues, but the night hadn't been as gruelling as she had expected. Sure, Rafe had some edges to him, but he had made the night bearable for them both. And for that, she was grateful.

Y/n assumed she had gotten there before either John B or JJ. The house was still dark and there were no teenage boys running around like the two were known to. "And you would rather sleep here than in your own house?" Rafe questioned, parked right outside as he leaned up to the windshield.

She chuckled at his kook statement, "Trust me, if you had any idea what my parents were like right now, you'd want to get as far from them too." Rafe peered over at her, their eyes locking. He didn't say anything as if the machines in his head were still processing his thoughts. "But thanks for tonight, you know, not making it the worst thing in the world."

"Is that what you thought?" He queried, leaning over slightly. "That having to go on a date with me is the worst thing in the world?"

That question shifted the atmosphere in the air. Suddenly Y/n felt caught between his pupils like she couldn't break the gaze they were enticed with. "Suppose you changed my opinion." She said, though it was a mindless reply, her head too busy trying to work out Rafe's intentions.

Every ounce of logic was screaming at her to leave. This wasn't right, this was Rafe Cameron, Kook King, should-be sworn enemy. But instead, she found herself weak against his piercing gaze like she were his prey. She knew once the moment passed, she was done for. The girl had made no move to exit the car and rather say anything, Rafe gained closer and she mirrored his actions

"I thought you weren't playing this game." His voice was low and he was so close she could feel the breath sweep from his mouth. She thought about replying but found the best way to keep her pride was to shut him up by closing the gap between them.

The first brush of their lips had been soft. It was testing the waters, shifting through that part which was screaming at them both to stop. When that passed, the kiss became nagging, it was desperate to latch onto the thread of emotions which had built up throughout the night. It wasn't until Y/n felt Rafe's palm drop to her thigh that she pulled herself away. Her breath was uneven, their foreheads grazing against one another.

Rafe's eyes were still exploring her as if it were his right. But Y/n's mind was quick to catch up. Sat was here in the flashy sports car outside the Château, it wasn't right. Sat next to Rafe Cameron, his hands drawn to her skin, wasn't right. None of this was right and when that realisation came, she leaned back. "I'm sorry." Her voice came out in a hush, shakey and uncertain. "I- I can't."

Rafe said nothing. He leaned back and there return that ever knowing stern stare everyone else was used to. She glanced to him for a moment, thought about saying something else, but the moment passed and she never spoke a word. Rather, she stepped out from the flashy sports car which didn't belong on this side of the island, just as Rafe didn't.

She stood there by the passenger door, watching him through the window. He still never dared to look at her. The car engine started again as the woman adjusted herself, pulling straps back up to her shoulders and straightening her bag. She watched as the car reversed, slipping back onto the main road and leaving Y/n to look at what was left in front of her.

She expected shadows. She expected to be waiting on the porch until JJ and John B returned. But instead, as the car was whisked away, it revealed a certain blond boy. They were stood across from each other, unable to work out the expression on the other. It dawned on her then that JJ knew. That something wrong, that something illogical, that something stupid she had done had been unknowingly on display to the one person who would have a problem with it.

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jsprnt · 5 months

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Healing Hearts PT. 13 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

WC: 3.050

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I walk into the kitchen, my eyes shooting up to the clock on the wall. I felt like absolute shit, my outside clothes still uncomfortably clinging onto my body from the previous night, not to forget the full face of make up I was wearing- well whatever was left that wasn't smudged on my pillowcases.

I groan as I notice it is almost noon. From the text messages I was sent early this morning by Virgil, I knew that it was several hours before he'd be done with training and until he would be in Amsterdam. I couldn't wait to finally visit him in his apartment he owned there.

I squint due to the light emitting from the widows, at least it was fall now and the sun wouldn't be this bright for long. The dark clouds already alluding to a rainy and cold day.

I realize the house is empty, with no sound or sign of my parents still being at home. It was a Tuesday, so they must've already left for work.

Thankfully, the dining table was still full of food. My stomach grumbling at the thought of having some delicious food as I grab the leftovers I had to heat up, knowing I would devour my mom's cooking in a minute.

I close my eyes and furrow my brows at the slight commotion in the front of the train. I loved and missed the Dutch transportation system, or at least it was better than other countries I had visited, but damn teenagers loved to be loud when coming back from school.

I grab the water bottle that was resting on my lap. Chugging it down, hoping it would relieve some of the pain in my head. The entire speech of "I'm never drinking again." running through my mind.

Why did we as humans love making promises to ourselves, then fall into the same cycle again? It would always baffle me over and over again.

I sigh to myself as I hear my station being announced through the train speakers, getting up and grabbing my mom's transportation card and checking out as the train stops. My medium-sized suitcase rolling behind me.

At first, I felt embarrassed of needing that many things for a couple of days at Virgil's place, but then I remembered that I was just a girl and if I needed something, I needed it.

I had thought of driving, but with this headache I didn't have the energy to, besides it wouldn't have been a hundred percent safe either.

I step out of the train, discarding the water bottle, and grabbing my phone to text Virgil for the exact address of his home. I stare at my screen for a moment as he types and-

I blink multiple times, wondering if I was hallucinating or genuinely seeing that address on my screen.

Did every man have to live in the same apartment complex? Was it really the only option the both of them had in the expensive ass city of Amsterdam? Both of them were practically swimming in money, but this was the place they both lived in?

I resist the urge to get back on the train again, walking in the same route I knew all too well. Hoping luck would be on my side today, or at least for a moment. The dark trees were slowly turning brown, the occasional leave crunching beneath my shoes.

The familiar building I called home once not even a couple years ago coming into my vision. No doubt there were some good memories attached to it, though this time being here they definitely left a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

I approach the front desk, thankfully the receptionist wasn't the same lady as in the past. That would have been quite the interaction if I would literally ask her for directions to another apartment. "Gold-digging-whore" it would not be a new insult thrown behind my back.

I look around me cautiously, the interior of the lobby was still the same. The marble and wood accents still very timeless looking, accentuating the contemporary design, taking me back to the time this entire place was way too intimidating and grand when I came here for the first time.

Sometimes I do wander how life would've been without my young naivety, but damn it was the reason I had gotten myself away from all that was negative in my life. Allowing me to form a much better and healthy work environment and new relationship. And I was grateful, immeasurably grateful.

I ask the receptionist for Virgil's place and how I would even get there, her eyebrows raising for a moment before she grabs the telephone to, what I assume, call up to him. The call is very short, and she walks away for a moment. She comes back with a key card in her hand, the biggest customer service smile on her face, as she hands me the key card.

"Is it your first name here miss?" She asks, handing the keycard to me.

"It is." I answer half lying, grabbing the card out of her hand, it looked way different than a year ago for some reason.

"Number fifty-three is the penthouse as you know, which requires you to use the elevator on the left." She points, the sickly sweet smile lingering on her lips.

Penthouse?

I felt my headache get worse, then a shooting pain through my temples.

Virgil was the penthouse owner Theo had always complained about? The one who barely lived there but still owned the most expensive place in the entire building? Theo had always complained he wanted to purchase the penthouse, but Virgil being the stubborn owner he was talking about? I don’t know if my ego should be boosted or if I should feel horrified.

I snap out of it quickly, hoping I didn't look crazy, redirecting my attention to the receptionist.

"Oh right, thank you." I say quickly, stepping away and walking towards the elevator, dragging my suitcase behind me.

The world is insanely small, practically mushed together at this point, and the fact that I could have a run in with Theo here was probably making it much worse.

I did everything to get away from him, even until recently deciding to never pick up anonymous calls again, to installing an expensive security system, but still, the universe managed to find a way for us to be in the same building, just like all those years ago was absolutely mind boggling.

I press the elevator button, hoping those numbers above wouldn't flash Theo's apartment level, fifty.

Sighing in relief as the elevator arrives empty as I quickly get on it, pressing the close button repeatedly.

I scan the key card, pressing the fifty-third button. The fancy button lighting up, as I fold my arms and lean against the elevator wall. Practically sweating at the thought of ever running into Theo. I would say this was a mistake, coming back home was a disastrous mistake. Of course, I would run into him somehow and now I'm back at the place we used to live together, the universe hated me and the urge to hate it back was never this grand before.

I feel my headache get worse at the thoughts running through my mind, this would definitely take at least five years off of my lifespan.

The elevator announcing the fifty-third level takes y/n out of her thoughts. The elevator doors swiftly opening to reveal a smiling Virgil, dressed in dark jeans and a very soft looking gray sweater.

She gasps at the sight of him, her negative thoughts melting away by a mere glimpse of his face.

She practically leaps forward, latching onto him, his warm hands coming up to steady her frame. Her suitcase nearly toppling over by how fast she'd let it go. Heat radiation off of his body, washing a warm feeling over her cold one, even when she was wearing a thick jacket.

"Hello, to you too." He mumbles, his hand coming to cradle the back of her head. His fingers playing with the fabric of the white scarf around her neck. He plants a tender kiss on her forehead as she hides her face into his chest, the dull ache in her forehead getting slightly worse. Her fingers digging into the soft fabric of his sweater.

"Missed you so much." she mutters, her muffled words barely being heard. She pulls away, taking his features in for a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him into a longing kiss.

His lips are warm, his minty breath entangling with hers as their lips are pressed together. It felt like ages since they'd last seen each other, reality being only a couple of days. A breathless, deep groan leaving his throat as she presses her body further into him. Her fingers clawing at his arm, coming to squeeze his bicep with a tender touch.

Just like the days physically apart, the kiss feels like ages, only pulling away as y/n decides to. His lips automatically following hers to savor her taste longer. Though, he freezes at the sight of her scrunched brows and a hand on her temple, his eyes softening in concern. The breathlessness of their kiss shooting pain through her head.

"You still hangover from yesterday?" He asks, his hand coming to remove hers, instead softly massaging her temples himself.

"Yeah.." she groans, leaning into his touch with her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry." She goes, thinking that she should've greeted him with more enthusiasm and love, and no depressive, sad, stupid headache.

"It's alright, no need apologize to me." He soothes, his other hand coming to the small of her back, running his hands down her back gently.

"Let's take this jacket off and get comfy, yeah? You must've been freezing outside." He beams, kissing her temple repeatedly, wanting to transfer some of the love he felt into her pretty head.

"Here's some soup. It'll help before taking any medication." He whispers softly, removing the blanket off of his girlfriends face. The rain was clattering heavily on the windows outside, the dark clouds totally engulfing the surrounding view. She opens her eyes, blinking repeatedly before sitting up fully.

"Didn't have time to have groceries delivered, so I ordered some of the best and highest quality soup for my girl." He mutters, picking up a spoonful.

"You know I can feed myself right. I still have working arms and hands." She chuckles, trying to snatch the spoon out of his hands. He ignores her protest, urging her to take the mouthful of soup on the spoon.

"Wow- this is really nice- is this restaurant owned by another one of your beloved grandma's?" She teases, still aware of her pounding head but choosing to ignore the ache.

"Come on- no one cooks like grandma- except my own mother, obviously." He says, moving his spoon to grab another spoonful.

"Just give me the spoon already." She requests, the sass in her voice undeniable. He cocks an eyebrow, handing her the spoon without further ado.

"Okay- just wanted to take care of you miss independent." He teases back, watching her mix the soup.

"I'm fine- not incapable of drinking soup on my own. Just a headache I'll be fine after I take some medication." She retorts, humming to herself as the warm soup soothes her throat and warms her body temperature.

"Want some?"

He shakes his head, his hand adjusting some of the blanket.

"Besides, we haven't seen each other in days. I don't want this day to be ruined by you worrying about a silly headache." She says, sipping on the last bits of the soup.

"Babe-"

She cuts him off, grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen off of the table and shaking it.

"I'll take this and you'll tell me about you- things you wanted to tell me the past days or things that happened during training. Nothing about me- Deal?"

"So you had an open training today? Were there a lot of people there?" She asks, her cheeks squished against his chest as she lays against him. His arm coming to cradle her back.

"Yeah, those kids were so cute and happy to see us, it was so sweet." Her replies, looking down at her, taking in the cozy atmosphere.

He had turned on the heater a little higher, the warm blanket now wrapped around the both of them as they both relished the feeling of the soft sofa against them. The clattering of raindrops creating a calming sound that almost put them both to sleep. The sun had set already, a conformation of the seasons changing already. The soft and low melody of a song by Brent Faiyaz coming out of the TV speakers.

"So what? You showed those kids how to tackle your teammates?" She laughs, the vibrations of it connecting with the thump of his heartbeat.

"Got show them how to do it best obviously." He retorts, a chuckle escaping his plump lips.

"Are you ready for the match against France. Though opponents, no?" She asks, sitting up and lifting her head to check his facial expression.

"We've trained a lot, it all comes down to performance now." He answers, sinking his eyes into the beauty of her face, a small smile on her lips as she nods.

"Any injuries? Are you feeling alright?" She asks, her eyebrows knotting, small wrinkles forming in between them. Being on leave never made her stop worrying about the teams injuries, always texting and calling the other physio's for updates and improvements of injured players.

"I'm alright, a hundred percent. I promise." He reassures, bringing her into his chest again, kissing the top of her ear. "Stop thinking about work or anything related to it. You're on leave, you've got to enjoy it baby." He mumbles, his deep voice vibrating against her ears.

"Tell me about you. How are your parents and friends hm?"

"They're fine, working and everything keeps them busy. My friends are just happy to see me. As you know, we had girls night yesterday." She chuckles, the flashback of her drunk friends popping into her mind.

"What did you girls do? Gossip?" He wonders, a smile tugging at his lips.

"How'd you know?" She gasps, her eyes widening.

"I've been around my mom and her friends. When that conversation opens, those doors never close up." He laughs. "What did you guys talk about? Me?" He says, cocky expression on his face.

She pulls away again, guilty expression on her face. "I told them about you, yeah.."

"That's good. Why so solemn? Do they hate me?" He asks.

"No! They're okay with us- they’re just teasing me. They think it's funny I- uhm moved to Liverpool to forget you know who. Then I met you." She explains, fidgeting with her newly done nails.

"That's fate love." He replies, running his thumb on her jawline. "They like me at least- what about your parents?"

Fate was either a bitch or it was the best thing that ever could happen to you.

Her eyes widen at the mention of her parents. They didn't know she had a new boyfriend, let alone who he was. She didn't know if her parents would be happy or lose their mind if she told them she was with someone else other than her 'useful' ex. She couldn't fully blame them if they got mad, she told them a bit of how their relationship went. Nothing about him making someone break into her apartment and the rest of the things he had done. Not how he treated her- which was definitely not how she should've been treated.

"Uh.." she trails off, the heat of embarrassment climbing up to her face. Virgil raises his brows, his thumb coming to a halt, letting his hand rest on her jaw, cupping her face.

"They don't know about us." She mumbles, avoiding eye contact and looking away.

"What?"

"They don't know about us." She repeats, a little louder. The temperature drops for a moment, his hand moving her head towards him again.

"y/n? Look at me." He says, his deep voice stern, though there is a soft edge to it.

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, then reluctantly making eye contact.

"You don't have to tell them. I understand, but you don't look- something is up. Am I right?"

She nods, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth, chewing nervously.

"They barely know about the things that happened in between me and- my ex. Not even what happened in my apartment." She breathes out.

"They still think we have a chance of getting back together. Since our parents are in the same industry- they thought, you know that they would merge their companies- umh later on." She explains, goosebumps covering her body. Nervously checking Virgil's face for a change of expression.

A sigh leaves his lips, pulling her into another hug. His arms wrapping around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry you can't be honest with your parents."

"No, don't apologize. It's my fault for not telling them everything."

"You know that they shouldn't have pushed you so far you're hiding important thing from them, right?"

She doesn't reply, basking into his body heat, her nose rubbing against the fabric of his sweater.

He sighs at her unwillingness to speak, deciding to change the topic.

"Let talk about something else- you're coming to the match on Friday, right?" He asks, hoping it would change her mood.

"Of course." She replies, fidgeting with the fabric of his sweater. "It's a very important one, you said I could invite my friends right?"

"Yeah of course, you ready to cheer me on with my shirt on, love?"

"I don't know- thought of wearing Frenkie's or Memphis' but since they're injured I guess your shirt is alright too." She teases, a smile tugging at her lips. The jealousy was evident on his face, and it was undeniably hot. His hands letting go of her, turning away from her.

"Alright- I'm just joking. I'll wear a number four- stop looking at me like that. It was a joke!"

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #virgilvandijk #virgilvandijkimagines #virgil van dijk #vandijk #liverpoolfc #football #football fanfic #football imagines #liverpoolimagines #liverpool fanfic #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #footballer x reader

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aylacavebear · 3 months

Text

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2131

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Alcoholism, Hustling Pool, Injuries

----------------------------------------- Chapter 9

Maria spent the next three years traveling across the country, torturing numerous demons trying to get any information on the yellow-eyed demon that had taken her parents from her, but not one of them gave anything up.

Maria had changed the paint job on her father’s truck, her truck, to all black, wanting it to blend in as much as possible. She’d also given it a few upgrades over the years; better gas mileage and tweaked it so that it could go faster than it used to. She’d also installed a lock box in the bed of the truck where she kept her hunting supplies, as well as other supplies like spare clothes.

The nightmares had mostly stopped at this point, as had her grief. She hadn’t coped with it in the healthiest of ways, killing every monster she came across and finding solace at the bottom of a bottle most nights, whiskey her choice of numbing poison. Maria found that she had a knack for playing pool as well, eventually getting good enough to win games and become quite the pool shark. She used the money for motel rooms when she felt the need for a bed and a hot shower.

She’d found herself back in Sioux Falls, South Dakota one day in late August, driving with no particular destination in mind at the time. When she saw the familiar buildings from a life that seemed to have almost been a dream, she sighed as she turned down a side street, mindlessly heading to her Uncles, more muscle memory than anything.

His place looked the same as she’d remembered it as she pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine. She hadn’t spoken to him since that night they’d burned her father’s body, the memory played in her mind for a moment of the night she’d driven away. A heavy sigh left her lips as she got out of her truck.

“Maria?” a voice asked from the doorway of his house.

She’d been looking at the ground, moving somewhat slowly when she heard his voice, “Hey Uncle Bobby,” she said with a small smile as she looked up at him.

For a moment all he could do was stare at her, relief, shock, anger, and curiosity all mixed in his expression. She was an adult now, twenty, and her birthday was only a few months away. She was in front of him, embracing him in a hug before he could even speak, “Sorry I never called,” she told him quietly.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, kid,” he told her, hugging her back before the two went inside, “How you been?” he asked.

They sat in his living room, spending the next several hours catching each other up on their lives over the time she’d been gone. He didn’t even mind her having a couple of beers while he drank whiskey. When she excused herself, he called John, asking him to pass along to the boys that she had shown up at his place and was okay. It was the least he could do, knowing they’d been just as worried as he had been. John thanked him and agreed before the two hung up. Bobby debated asking her about the book she’d taken out of his safe but chose not to. He had also chosen to keep the package that had shown up at his doorstep four months after she disappeared, a secret as well. The instructions stated not to give it to her until she was twenty-one.

“So, you get a new number?” he asked when she returned.

“Yeah. I’ll leave it with you before I head out tonight,” she replied, sitting down on the couch and getting comfortable again.

“You’re not staying?” he asked, sighing.

“No. Heard about a werewolf a couple states over,” she replied casually, sipping her beer.

“Can you make me a promise kid?” he asked, looking over at her.

“What’s that?” she said, tilting her head a bit.

“Will you at least stop by again, for your next birthday? You’ll be twenty-one. Least I can do is get you something,” he replied with a small smile.

“I don’t see why not,” she chuckled.

“Wish you were staying longer,” he sighed.

“I’ll try not to be such a stranger,” she replied, looking out into the room at nothing in particular.

“You still didn’t promise,” he told her, raising an eyebrow.

She looked over at him and rolled her eyes, “Fine, Uncle Bobby, I promise I’ll be here on my twenty-first birthday,” she said, slightly sarcastically, but had meant it.

That had at least made Bobby feel better. He knew she’d keep her word, or at least hoped she would. She stopped drinking once her beer was gone though, needing to sober up before she headed out in a couple hours. Maria enjoyed getting to catch up with her Uncle and was thankful none of the Winchesters were there, wanting to leave before they had a chance to show up, even if they had no intentions to.

The two bid each other farewell before she drove away while Bobby watched her from the driveway. He could tell she had shut her emotions away and had pulled away from everyone she’d known, even after three years. She’d left out how she’d turned to whiskey most nights, drowning out the memories and the pain just so she could sleep without the nightmares of that week. She hadn’t wanted him to worry but had no idea he saw through the facade she had put on in his presence. He didn’t know the details, but he’d been through enough grief in his life to have an idea of how she was coping with it.

She took care of the werewolf, barely breaking a sweat, but was glad she’d gotten a motel room for the night. It had been an easy enough kill but the blood splatter required a shower and a change of clothes. As she sat on the bed, brushing her damp hair, her mind wandered to Sammy and Dean for a moment. She hadn’t thought about them since that night. Her gaze fell on nothing as she remembered the two of them, briefly curious as to what they were up to. A small smile came to her face, thankful she hadn’t asked her Uncle for their numbers.

“Another day, another dead monster,” she said quietly before heading to bed for the night.

Over the next several months, past the holidays and into the new year, she was still interrogating demons for any clue on the yellow-eyed demon. She wanted to know not only who he was but what he was, knowing he wasn’t a normal demon. Maria also took care of random cases along the way. Her phone though, had gotten destroyed on the last case she took, and that wasn’t the only thing that had taken a bit of a beating.

She groaned as she pulled off her flannel, then her shirt, barely able to raise her arm high enough to get it off after fixing her other dislocated shoulder against the motel wall. Her other arm had a gash four inches long on it. Thankfully it wasn’t deep. She went to the bathroom to clean up her wounds. As she glanced in the mirror she noticed the bruise forming on her cheek and her split lip.

“Stupid demon,” she grumbled as she turned on the warm water and grabbed a washcloth.

Maria cleaned up her wounds before bandaging her arm. Her whole body was sore after that fight and all she wanted to do was sleep, not even having the energy to drink that night.

Again, she’d lost track of time, completely forgetting her promise to her Uncle, following yet another lead on the yellow-eyed demon. Before she knew it, another almost two years had passed. She was twenty-three, only a couple of months before her twenty-fourth birthday, and found herself in Palo Alto, California. The drive she had been on had been a long one so she got a motel room for the night before heading to the local bar near the college.

It was a Friday night and the place was packed with college kids, most of them around her age. She wasn’t paying much attention to any of them when she heard a voice to her left, “Sis?’

She felt goosebumps run down her body hearing that word before she turned to look at the man who had spoken to her. His hair was short, but also with a little length to it, and even with his age, she saw that little twelve-year-old boy in his eyes, “Little brother?” she asked, wanting to make sure.

He smiled and fought back tears at seeing her. There was no mistaking that jet-black hair of hers, even if it was longer now, laying over a red flannel, even if it wasn’t the same one from their childhood, “How have you been?” he asked, pulling her up and into a hug.

She was a bit shocked at his strength and his height. He was almost a foot taller than she was now when he’d always been shorter than her before.

“Who’s this?” a female voice said before Maria could answer his question.

Sam let her go, and wiped away the couple of tears near his eyes as he put his arm around the woman who was now next to him, “Jessica, this is Maria, my little sister,” he told her.

Jessica smiled at her, “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she told Maria before she pulled her into a hug.

Maria was surprised but hugged the woman back, “Uh, nice to meet you,” Maria replied, before she pulled away from the hug, fighting all the emotions that had begun to surface.

Sam kissed Jessica on the cheek as Maria just watched the two of them curiously for a moment before the woman walked over to a group of people a few tables away, “So, how you been sis?” Sam asked her again as he sat down at her table.

“Uh, good…” she replied before she too sat down across from him and looked up at him.

“What brings you to Cali?” he asked her, sipping the beer he’d brought over with him.

“Honestly, not sure really. I was just driving and needed to stop for the night,” she replied, and glanced around the bar, looking for his brother and father.

“They’re not here,” he told her, figuring out quickly who she was looking for.

She looked back at him and tilted her head a bit, confused, “You’re hunting alone?” she asked.

Sam laughed a bit at that one, “I stopped hunting. I’m going to college to be a lawyer,” he told her, “Jess is the love of my life,” he added, looking over at the woman and smiling.

Maria glanced at her before looking back at Sam, “Well, you’re smart enough for it,” she chuckled.

Jessica gave the two space for the night as they caught up on each other’s lives. Sam explained that he and John had gotten into numerous fights over the last few years when it came to Sam wanting to go to college and stop hunting. It had eventually boiled over to where John had told him that if he left, he wasn’t to come back, and he hadn’t looked back, especially after he’d met Jessica, whom he called Jess.

Maria stayed in town over the weekend, hanging out with both Sam and Jess. It was a feeling of family she hadn’t had in a long time and the two easily slipped back into their routine of being siblings. Sam had explained that he hadn’t even spoken to his brother or father since he left. That had made her feel a little more comfortable about staying the weekend. Jess had taken several pictures with her phone of the two of them, and even some with the three of them. Sunday night had come too quickly for the three of them as they said their goodbyes. Sam made sure to write his number down for her and hide it in her glove box, even if she had programmed it into her phone.

“Hey, come back by around Halloween. I’m taking my tests next semester and it’d be nice to see you again,” Sam told her while she sat in the driver's seat of her truck.

“I’ll do my best, but I’m not making any promises,” she replied, chuckling a little.

“And next time, you can stay with me and Jess. She adores you,” he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, “We’ll see, okay?” she replied.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he said before she drove off, heading who knew where to fight god only knew what.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 10

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

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true--crime--archives · 9 months

Text

My first true crime write up, please be kind.

Some photographs of 16 and 18 year old murder victims Emma Niederbrock and Melanie Wells. The murders would occur in Farmville, Virginia, in September 2009.

Emma Niederbrock loved music above, well, most things. Her favorite genres by far were metal and horrorcore rap. It was her love of horrorcore that would introduce her to her friend, an aspiring horrorcore rapper who went by the name "Syko Sam", in 2008 on MySpace.

Sam, who's real name is Richard Alden Samuel McCroskey III (what a mouthful.) was 20 years old and living in California, across the country from the two girls. To say he struggled in school would be an understatement. He was bullied for being overweight, having red hair, and generally not having the same interests as his peers. In addition, he dropped out of not one, but two high schools.

In a stark contrast to the kinds of music he would make and acts he would later commit, his sister Sarah McCroskey, described him as a very passive individual, rarely standing up for himself and being a bit of a door mat. When he and then 15-year-old Emma Niederbock met online in 2008, he showed her a much different side of himself. He was loud, pushy, overly-confident and very brash.

Emma and Sam spent a lot of time together chatting online, and over the phone. By September of 2009, they had known each other for over a year. Emma being 16, and Sam being 20. Sam thought of Emma romantically, though despite her sending him affectionate messages, it's unclear how she truly thought of him. Nevertheless, his involvement with her was inappropriate, given the age difference and experiences in life.

Emma and her best friend, 18 year old Melanie Wells, made plans to visit an all day, all ages horrorcore festival called Strictly for The Wicked on September 12, 2009 in Southgate, Michigan. You can see the festival ad poster here:

Emma and Melanie lived in Inwood, West Virginia, about 3.5 hours from Farmville and about 7 hours from the festival in Southgate, Michigan. Emma and Sam spoke about the festival, deciding it would be a great opportunity for the pair to meet in person for the first time. Emma's parents, (Debra Kelley and Mark Niederbock) however, were uncomfortable with their 16-year-old daughter meeting a 20-year-old man off the internet for the first time, without them present. However, they wanted their daughter to be happy. And despite their better judgement, they agreed to drive the trio to Michigan.

On September 6th, 6 days before the festival were to start, Sam left his home in California, traveling to Virginia. Emma posted on his MySpace wall, "Next time you check your myspace, YOULL BE AT MY HOUSE!" she continued, "I love you sooo SO much baby; forever and for always."

For some reason, this 20-year-old man was allowed to stay at Emma's mother's house (her mother and father were divorced by this time.) for SEVERAL days before the festival was due to begin. I found this odd as they had never met in person before, and back then, parents were a bit more wary and unsure about the internet and the predators on it than they are now. Nevertheless, nothing of note happened in this time period.

What is important to note, is that when he arrived at their home for the first time, Emma was far less than impressed with Sam's appearance. He was a bit of a catfish. He apparently went to great lengths to alter his appearance on MySpace, and Emma did not find him attractive in person. He looked far younger than 20, he was wearing baggy, oversized clothes, was fairly short and had greasy hair combed straight down over his forehead.

Combined with his unattractive looks, he had an unattractive personality. He came off as aloof and immature. Emma was cordial with him, but that was about all she was. Emma and her friend Melanie found him annoying and were uncomfortable around him. However, they still had a 7-hour car ride ahead of them.

Sam had hoped that Emma would change her new attitude towards him once they arrived and were enjoying their common interest together, however this would never happen. Emma reportedly paid little to no attention to him, was distant and acted like he wasn't there. This was compounded by the fact that she was apparently flirtatious with other men in person and over text at the event. Sam did not take this well.

Once 18-year-old Melanie Wells arrived back in Virginia, she posted a new status to her wall at 2:43 a.m, Sept 14th;

“SFTW was fuckin amazing, back in Virginia now, be back in West Virginia on Wednesday. I MISS EVERYONE!!!”

2:43 a.m on 9/14/2009 would be the last time Melanie would ever log into MySpace again. Her friends and family thought it was odd that she would go so quiet. After all, she was 18 and like most teenagers, updated her social media constantly. Monday rolled around. Then Tuesday came. Finally, Wednesday had come. No one had heard from her. Her parents, Thomas and Kathleen Wells tried repeatedly to get ahold of their daughter, to no avail. Thomas decided to drive some 200 miles to Farmville.

No one answered the door at Emma and Debra's home. He knocked and knocked, but no one would come. He decided it was best to sit in his car and wait, thinking maybe they had gone out and would come home soon. He waited for seven hours for them to return, but they never did. Reluctantly, he went back home, where Melanie's mother tried to call everyone she could think of that may have information on her daughter's whereabouts.

After Kathleen investigated a while, she came across the phone number of a man named Andres Shrim. Andres told her that he had seen both Melanie and Emma at the festival, but they had gone home with Emma's parents when it had ended. Kathleen called Emma's home phone number again, however this time someone answered.

The person who answered the phone was Sam. She asked where her daughter Melanie was, but he wouldn't give her a straight answer. Kathleen was frustrated and hung up on him. Morning of Thursday, September 17th, Kathleen contacted the Farmville police dept. and asked them to do a welfare check.

When the police arrived, they encountered Sam. When asked where the three women were, he stated they were out at the movies. They didn't know who Sam was, but they took him at his word. They left the home, and Kathleen informed Mark Niederbrock, Emma's father that she could not get in touch with all three women. Mark told Kathleen he would go check it out, and that he would call her at 5pm later that day.

Kathleen never heard from Mark, or any of them, ever again.

On the morning of September 18th, nearly a week after her daughter was supposed to come home, Kathleen contacted the police department once more. She managed to convince them to file a missing persons report for her daughter, despite their reluctance due to Melanie being 18. They arrived at the Kelley residence at approx. 3:20 p.m, and found the door unlocked. Sam was gone. But the smell wasn't.

The smell of death and decomp was so strong that they had probable cause to enter the home. A neighbor had even done an interview with the news stating that on the 17th, the day before, she was walking her dog past their home and she smelled something pungent, thinking it to be a dead animal.

Inside the residence, the police found three dead bodies in Emma's bedroom. The bodies were 53-year-old Debra Kelley, 16-year-old Emma Niederbrock, and 18-year-old Melanie Wells. Upstairs, they found a fourth body, 50-year-old Mark Niederbrock. The police have stated the scene was so disgusting, traumatizing and horrifying, that they wouldn't elaborate further than saying the victims had died of blunt force trauma.

It didn't take long for the police to discover that all of the victims were last seen by one individual who was no longer present, Richard Alden Samuel McCroskey III. After checking social media, the police realized he was the man they had spoken to the day prior. They felt a pit in their stomach. The only suspect, their perpetrator, had gotten away from them. He lived in the house with the bodies for nearly a week. He only left when the stench became too much to bear. A manhunt ensued. Luckily, it wouldn't take too long to locate Richard, a.k.a "Syko Sam".

On September 18th, the same day the bodies were located, a homeowner called the police to report a car that was stuck in a ditch near his home at 4 a.m. A tow truck arrived, and Sam was given a ticket for driving without a license. When asked whose vehicle it was, he stated it was his girlfriend's dad's car.

The tow truck driver named Elton Napier offered to give Sam a ride to a gas station, where Sam requested to go. Napier stated "I'd never smelt anything like it,"

"He stunk like the devil."

He had to hold his head out the window to avoid gagging from the putrid stench.

Sam caught a taxi to Richmond Intl. Airport, where he planned to stay overnight until his flight to California the next day. When the deputy realized he'd just given a ticket to the same man that was last seen at the home of four bodies, he quickly alerted other officers about his conversation with Sam, who had told him he had a flight to California the next day. Early on September 19th, Richard Alden Samuel McCroskey III was apprehended.

At the airport when being led away by police, Syko Sam told a reporter "Jesus made me do it." when asked why he had committed quadruple homicide.

Sam plead guilty to two counts of capital murder, and two counts of first degree murder. He chose to waive his right to an appeal. He was sentenced to 4 life sentences to run consecutively. He was smirking as he entered the police van to be taken to prison.

His motive was simple. He had expectations of a relationship with beautiful, but underage, Emma Niederbrock. When those expectations did not become reality, he retaliated by deciding the best course of action would be to murder the high school girl. He is truly one of the sickest and most selfish and disgusting murderers I've ever researched. The permanency and pain he inflicted because he didn't get what he wanted is truly disgusting. He had only wanted to kill Emma. But Debra, Mark, and Melanie simply got in the way.

He had been drinking and smoking marijuana. As he sat there, reflecting on the way Emma had treated him at the festival, he began to become more and more furious. First, he killed Melanie while she slept on the couch, with a hammer. Then, he went upstairs and murdered Debra while she slept in bed. Finally, Emma was killed last, sleeping in her bedroom. None of the women had defensive wounds, meaning that they had at least not woken up during the attacks.

Remember when I mentioned Mark had gone to his ex-wife's home to check on the women? He had been killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mark was beaten to death with an 8 pound wood splitting maul. Sam stated he killed Mark with the weapon because he thought "the weight of it meant he wouldn't suffer." I find it telling that the only person's suffering he seemed to care about was the only man he killed, not the women he had killed driven by selfish desire for the minor he so claimed to "love."

Sam fled the scene in the very early morning hours in Mark's car, after stealing the cash in his wallet. However, the idiot got the car stuck in a ditch, where the homeowner contacted the police.

In the end, four lives were lost, including 2 beautiful young women, and 2 parents who simply wanted their daughter to be happy. The four life sentences given to Richard would never be enough to restore the beauty and vivaciousness lost at the hands of a jealous, cold blooded, and severely mentally ill, immature man. The only thing Emma had ever done "wrong", was change her mind about Richard. For he decided that for this slight against his fragile ego, she and her loved ones would never get to open their eyes again.

Sources:

https://myspace.com/435850718/mixes/classic-emma-niederbrock-ragd0ll-669080/photo/368180238

Watch for a part 2 where I post their online profiles, and some more nuanced information.

#crime #crime blog #real crime #true crume #crimenews #emma niederbrock #melanie wells

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themostsanebug · 2 months

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aaughh,, doodleland lore dump bc im soooo cool (to the two other people who work on doodleland with me if ya see this,, im about to mess up on so many lore points dont watch)

@aggressivedaikons here's the lore dump for ya :D

sooo,, doodleland is basically a place where scrapped/unused characters go to finish "living out their lives." these scrapped characters can be from several different universes originally, making some of them have completely different stories from on another. for example, one could be from dialtown and the other could be from just some country. not all of the people in doodleland are scrapped characters however considering they are uhhh,, canonically able to reproduce,, meaning some characters are just born into doodleland! doodleland also has a weird concept of death,, when they die some people can be gone for a few hours-days and come back or "spawn" back in, some can be gone for weeks-years, and some don't come back at all. i vaguely remember it being mentioned that doodleland characters see each other in different art styles as well?? whatever,, OH THERE'S ALSO ANOTHER (basically just edgy) SIDE TO DOODLELAND!! it's called scrap land and it's basically just like,, doodleland but more crime/less laws and where most of the freaky or overly angsty characters live. literal HORRORS live in scrapland. i thinkkkk that's it for background info?? now onto the main shit <3

doodleland exists solely cause two gods decided to combine their powers and give a place for failed life to start anew. the gods names? agathadaemon and apollo. as you can guess, creating an entire WORLD can use up a lot of energy/power. the gods were reverted to smaller forms and ended up in the world they created. eventually, people start showing up in doodleland and they just kinda,, go about life like normal?? some of my earliest characters to enter doodleland are the atonal parents. technically the atonal great grandparents by the current timeline but whatever,, point is, while i refuse to give these two names, they are the parents of one of my early characters that actually has lore and can lead into some more of the story!! woohoo!! that characters name is alan atonal and his life is,, something. his parents both weren't around often and he struggled with getting attention up until he was "adopted" into a small group of neighbors. the parent situation was purely because his dad worked two jobs and his mom was a nurse btw,, they struggled to get home to him on SEVERAL occasions. the small group of neighbors treated him like a little brother they had never had, leading to him trusting them a bit more than his parents. oh, and one day they took alan down to a lake and alan accidentally tripped and drowned because none of them knew how to swim to save him, but its fine he came back within a few hours with a healthy dose of trauma and a fear of water! as he grew older, he eventually met someone in highschool named sasha bright! him and sasha ended up becoming very close and he learned that sasha was trans! meaning he had changed his name and gotten his hair cut after the word was out, he soon came to be known as vain bright and he, to the current day, still hasn't gone on testosterone or gotten top surgery due to both surgical/needle based fears and just not really caring how his body looks. his parents supported him being trans, making them some of the best set of parents out of the earlier character cast. moving on from that and back to alan,, alan and vain grew closer and alan eventually grew a crush on a girl he knew named alice. he told vain about the crush, expecting his best friend to encourage him to ask her out or give him support or something, but he was simply met with warnings of how terrible the girl truly was. how the girl was going to use him and leave him in the dust, how she was going to treat him like dirt. alan didn't believe him and ended up getting a date with the girl anyway. their relationship was smooth sailing, especially when alan got a job working for the police force! that,, didn't last forever though. alice eventually started to get more greedy. with,, everything. from money to time with alan, she asked for it all. he came home tired and overworked almost every night and she still expected him to cook or take her somewhere. even with all that, alan still proposed to her and ended up getting married to her! her greed worsened, especially her greed for money or items. yet,, alan still loved her. he couldn't just let her go. he gave her several chances before she was finally the one to break it off after she'd had "enough of his complaining." his life got,, a lot better with her gone to say the least. he ended up living with vain for a while and they helped each other in ahem,, multiple ways. he got promoted to police chief and was really good at his job too! down the line, however, he discovered he had a teenage son. one that alice had somehow managed to keep hidden from him for all the years they had been apart. he found the kid one day and figured out that his name was mio,, mio had,, issues of his own. the kid was extremely jumpy along with struggling with the vengeful attitude of his mother who had convinced him the only way to live was by stealing, lying and cheating. alan and the kid eventually got on good terms leading mio to start talking about how poorly his mother treated him. alan, rightfully so, got pissed. him and vain took it upon themselves to go and talk to her about it.

#fly man yaps!!#doodleland lore dump #pt. 1 cause tumblr's a bitch </3

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amyreadsandstresses · 2 years

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September 19, Mexico

TW: DISCUSSION AND IMAGERY OF EARTHQUAKES

For those that don't know (which I'm guessing are most folk that share this little corner of the internet with me), september 19, today, is a very important day round here in my home country.

This day in 1985 there was a devastating earthquake in Mexico that destroyed the city (CDMX) and severely affected the rest of the country. The generations that lived through it and still live today all have dreadful stories and often share them with their families (both my parents shared theirs with me, so did one of my grandmothers).

My mother told me of how she was walking home from school, holding onto 4 of her 5 younger siblings, as they made their way through the rubble. My dad told me of how he spent days looking at the missing bullet board in case one of his friends was there. My grandma told me of how she was home, standing under an archway while holding onto her baby.

As a way to honor those affected by what happened then, it became tradition to perform a drill as prevention in case it ever happened again. So that all mexicans could be prepared.

And, in 2017, it did.

Now, I have a story of my own from that day. Still, september 19. I remember I was at school and we had the ever present drill. I remember joking around with my friends like we always did (we were very young back then, maybe 14). It was a day like any other.

Until it wasn't.

I remember we were in lunch break, and I was eating my usual cheese sandwich while sitting on my usual planter with my back to this huge tree. I was talking with my friends, and that's when I saw one of them swinging. I remember thinking she was dancing. But then, I turned around and saw some posters fall to the floor from where they were hanging on some windows. I then turned behind me and saw this huge red antena (that was behind the school) swinging so widly I thought it would fall on us. I remember blurting out: Está temblando! (it's shaking; as in, there's an earthquake).

A friend of mine said the same thing at the same time. And that's when the alarm started. I jumped to my feet, leaving my lunchbox on the stone planter and grabbed one of my friend's hand (the one I thought was dancing). I turned to my friends and just blurted a "let's go", pulling them to the safe zone (we have them everywhere; several in every school, in every mall, office, the street, everywhere). Students and teachers started flooding the schoolyard we were in, the younger students sobbing and holding hands. I remember looking around in a frenzy, cus one of our friends was also part of the younger students and I couldn't find her.

While I was looking around, I saw the flagpole swinging from side to side, just as wildly as the antena. The huges trees that had always seemed so sturdy were also swinging. I remember watching as my lunchox, which was left on the planter, jumped over and over as it got closer to the edge until it eventually fell. More posters fell too. The not dancing friend started crying, and I kept holding her hand. I kept mumbling "where's Giselle", still looking. The alarm kept going. More lunboxes fell. People were screaming for each other, teachers were grabbing students, calling for them. I remember it was so LOUD.

And then, quiet.

The alarm stopped, the ground no longer shook, nothing else fell. I remember only hearing the sniffles and occasional sobs from the students. One of my best friends pointed and said "she's there", letting me know our younger friend was safe. I nodded, still squeezing my not dancing friend's hand as she cried.

The next hours were weird. We moved to the soccer court and sat in circles, with our friends. Some were googling what happened and yelling it out for everyone to hear. Some were making rounds to check on all their friends. Some were standing so close to teachers they were basically stuck at the hip. And many of us were desperately trying to contact our families. I called EVERYONE. My parents, my grandparents, uncles and cousins and people I barely talked to. I kept holding my crying friend, and comforted the others that were just realising they were scared. I worried for my sister, barely starting primary and all alone in a school she didn't like.

As the parents arrived to take us home, some sobbed and held their kids. My mum held my hand as we walked to the car, my sister trailing behind.

The next few days were rough. School was canceled. I found out many homes, offices and schools fell. People were left homeless. People died. One of my best friends told me all the pictures and decorations hanging in his house had fallen and some smashed upon impact. I didn't get out of the house all week. My mum and I were stuck to the news, hearing of rescuers and volunteers. Of civilians taking water bottles and sandwiches to the most impacted zones.

People recovered, slowly. Some with PTSD and trauma, others (like me), with the occassional paranoia. We all hate the sound of the alarm. The first time I heard it after 2017, I remember getting goosebumps, my heart beating. And then laughing with the others because we were nervous.

Now, why am I making this post? Why am I huddled in the library listening to Glee and writing this post? Because it's september 19, 2022. And it happened again.

I'm lucky. My school barely felt it. My loved ones are ok. I felt the need to cry for a few minutes, and my hands are still shaking a bit. But I'm ok. I don't know if others are yet. After all, the earthquake just happend. I suppose I'll find out soon.

All of this to say, if you have mexican friends out there, if you have mexican mutuals here, send them some love. We need it, for the scare if nothing else.

#19 de septiembre #septiembre 2022 #temblor #terremoto #terremoto del 85 #mexico #temblor del 85 #terremoto de 2017 #temblor de 2017 #earthquake #natural disasters #sismo #sismo 19 de septiembre #sismo 1985

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survey--s · 8 months

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600.

Who gives the best advice? I don't really ask people for advice - because my experience is that they then get pissed off when you don't take it.

Is there any band out there that you like every song by them? No.

What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you? I can't think of anything in particular right now.

Have you ever smoked? Yeah, I smoked for a bit during my year abroad.

Does your favorite uncle have any children? He does. Two grown up daughters who now have kids of their own.

Have you ever been in a lighthouse? Yes.

Name one of your psycho exes? Chris.

Why were they a psycho ex? Well, he was a compulsive liar and refused to admit to several of his children. We broke up and it's come to light there are even more.

Do you still talk to your first crush? No.

Where would you like to travel? I'd love to go back to Canada and Italy, and in terms of new countries - New Zealand, Iceland, Japan and the Seychelles.

Are you shy about singing in front of people? Not really, but I definitely can't sing in tune lol.

Do you know anyone who always makes themselves out to be the victim? Yeah, I went to university with someone like that. It was exhausting.

Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? Yes.

What’s your favorite movie battle scene? The battle for Helms Deep is pretty good so far as battles go.

Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? No - I've never been to any wedding that wasn't my own.

What’s the population of your hometown? The town I grew up in is about 15k. My current town is about 7k.

What’s the most difficult experience you and a significant other have gone through together? I don't really know, to be honest. Looking back most of my relationships were just filled with pretty mundane dramas.

What’s something you have zero tolerance for? Animal abuse.

When's the last time you said you were sorry? Earlier today when I trod on the cat.

Would you like living on the coast? I love living by the coast. The only disadvantage is the strong wind/storms in the autumn.

Honestly, do you enjoy arguing? No.

Which theory do you wish but perhaps not believe was true about afterlife? I don't really believe anything happens after we die. I kind of think heaven would be cool, though, but without the religious aspect.

Are you scared of losing the person you like to someone else? No. I have no concerns in that respect, he's a very decent person with decent morals.

Do you have a hard time making decisions? I'm weird in that I can make huge, life-changing decisions in seconds, but I really struggle with minor decisions like where to eat or what outfit to wear lol.

If there was a large spider in your room, would you stay in the room? NOPE.

What’s your favorite kind of meat? (vegan/vegetarian options count!) Steak or bacon, or fried chicken.

Have you ever been mistaken for staff at a store you were just visiting? No.

What’s the coolest or most memorable animal you’ve ever seen at a zoo? White lions and tigers are pretty incredible, even though they're mostly inbred these days which is sad. I also remember seeing dolphins at an aquarium in Italy but it just made me sad. It was a mum and calf in this tiny tank and they just swam in circles constantly.

Do you share a bedroom with anybody? My husband and the dog, lol.

What video game have you played the most hours of? If you don’t know, just make a rough guess. Overall probably the Sims as I played it constantly as a kid.

Who will you see within the next week? Mike, my parents and I have no idea who else. I'm hoping to catch up with Susie at some point and I'll probably see my in-laws too.

Do your parents live in their hometown(s)? No - they live on the opposite side of the world from where they were born, lol.

Have you ever modeled before? No.

If offered $1 million, would you do a reality show of your life? No. I value my privacy too much for that.

Who owns the computer you are on? Me.

What’s your best friend’s favorite color? I'm not sure he really has a favourite colour.

What color was your senior prom dress? Red.

How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2014? Just the one.

Northernmost state you’ve been to: I've never been to America.

Think you’ll live to be 100? Who knows. Both sides of my family are pretty long-lived and healthy so I guess it's possible.

Which YouTuber do you feel like you could be friends with easily? I don't watch any YouTubers.

Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? My dad.

If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I honestly have no idea lol

What's something you used to believe in that you don't anymore? Nothing in particular is coming to mind.

What's something you believe everyone should have? A home.

What's the first thing you do once you get home from a trip? Say hi to all the animals, and then go and take a pee.

Do you listen to podcasts? Which ones? No, I genuinely don't get the appeal.

What was the last heavy thing you lifted? The cat.

Do you have an anchor tattoo? No.

Are your hands unsteady? No.

Do you think you’re pretty? I think I'm normal looking.

Who do you know that wears the most makeup? I don't really know anyone who wears tons of make-up. I live in a very outdoorsy area so most people don't wear much (if any).

Are you anyone’s first love? Apparently so.

Has anyone ever told you they were in love with you? Yes.

How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Nothing. My sex life is nobody else's business but mine (and my partners).

#survey #surveys

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steelblaidd · 2 years

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Small Moments at the Biggest Wedding.

This is the Fic I wrote for the @alwaysandforeverzine

(I am so behind on posting this.)

In an unguarded moment at the reception following Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Eiffel Tower wedding, Rena Rouge and Carapace gave a peek behind the masks of the great superheroes’ romance.

Ao3 Link

There is no question that the wedding of Ladybug and Chat Noir was the biggest wedding in Paris this season.

Paris’ premier superheroes spoke their vows live-streamed from the Gustave Eiffel Reception Room. Mayor Bourgeois officiated in front of 300 in-person guests. Rena Rouge and Carapace were Maid of Honour and Best Man respectively, and also stand-ins for the couple’s absent parents. The reception coincided with the Bastille Day celebrations covering the Champs de Mars and Trocadero Gardens.

After the ceremony, Ladybug, Chat Noir, and other members of Paris’ famed hero team mingled with the everyday citizens and celebrity attendees in the plaza under the tower. There were comments in the crowd about Hawk Moth and Mayura's attendance as guests. However, with the entire Parisian superhero team present, as well as several heroes from other countries, the chance of a sudden relapse into villainy was considered unlikely,

The wedding party had stood receiving well wishes at the plaza under the Eiffel Tower for almost two hours before the happy couple donned their wings and flew off on their honeymoon.

I caught up with Paris’ next most senior heroes in a secluded nook nursing their champagne, cake, and choux from the croquembouche that could be found on the tables scattered around the area.

Carapace stood between the Fox and the rest of the celebration as she handed him her glass and leaned up against the stone tower footing to massage the arches exposed by her strappy, black D'Orsay heels.

I approached to ask if I might have a moment of their time for a few questions. Carapace’s lips thinned, but then his companion placed a hand on his shoulder. He visibly relaxed, stepped a little to the side, and handed her back her drink.

Rena Rouge was wearing a knee-length A-line satin gown in the same cranberry red that lined the cape of the bride’s wedding ensemble. The black sweetheart-neckline bodice with embroidered roses swept low in the back.

Carapace wore a tuxedo in classic black. His usual hood was absent but his signature goggles remained.

“What did you want to know?” Rena asked with a smile.

“You have been Ladybug and Chat Noir’s longest, and some would say closest allies. What did their romance look like from your point of view?”

The two heroes shared a long look before snorting simultaneously.

“Dude,” Carapace said, “I'm not sure where to even begin.”

“Well,” I said, “everyone always wondered if what they told Nadja Chamack in the interview that triggered the Prime Queen incident was true or if they were just trying to downplay things because of Hawk Moth.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “They were so obviously in sync even from the beginning.”

I started as Rena Rouge began to laugh. Carapace frowned at her then gave me a half-smile. “We really shouldn't laugh, but I suppose it's not much of an issue at this point.'' He looked up to the first level where they had stood for the ceremony only hours before. “They were both right at the time -- LB that they weren't a couple; Chat that they were in love.” Carapace shook his head and sighed. “The problem, we learned later, was that they were each crushing on the other's alter ego.”

Rena reached up to take her partner's hand and began speaking in a subdued voice. “It was one of those ‘hilarious-in-hindsight’ things that was just sad and frustrating at the time.

“While Hawk Moth was active, they didn't know each other's civilian identities in case they got akumatized.” At her sudden scowl, I twisted to see the two former villains standing towards the middle of the plaza under the tower, a wide, empty space surrounding them.

“Ladybug didn’t make anti-akumatization charms for herself and Chat Noir?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” said Rena, “she can only make one for a person after they have been akumatized. You can see how that would be a problem.

“So,” Rena Rouge continued, “Chat would have these two-second mopes whenever Ladybug turned him down, again. And Ladybug would bemoan, at great length, how she was too scared to tell this wonderful, sweet, considerate guy she knew that she liked him. But she couldn't give up on him, not even for her wonderful, sweet, considerate partner, and it just tore her up inside.”

“That sounds like a hard thing to watch. What was most frustrating about it?” I asked.

“The fact that no matter how hard we trained, we could never be half as coordinated a team as they were without even trying," Carapace said. Rena Rouge nodded along.

"Sometimes, they didn't even need to talk; it was like telepathy. They would be having some completely unrelated conversation, or worse, a fight, and still move like they were one brain in two bodies." Rena groaned. "Made me so jealous."

Carapace raised their joined hands and kissed the back of her fingers. "We got there, too, Babe. Just took us a little longer."

"So, is it too early to announce the next Super-Wedding in Paris?" I asked.

"I think it's a bit early for that,” Rena said, suddenly breaking into a grin. “Ryuuko and Viperion still haven't figured out if they are a thing yet, or if they just like making out." I was surprised, as they were not a common pairing.

Carapace smirked and waggled his left hand at me, a gold band on his ring finger. "Dude, we're going on three [years] already. She presented me to her folks as the one before we were out of collège." He smiled and tugged at his lapels. "Unlike Ladybug, I knew when I had a good thing from the start."

“It sounds like you are lucky to have a good relationship with your in-laws,” I said to Carapace. “Do you know if Ladybug and Chat Noir are equally blessed?”

The Turtle Hero cocked his head, “Sort of?” he said, sounding not quite sure. “Bug’s folks absolutely adore Chat. Have as long as they have known him. Chat’s folks...” Carapace shrugged, then gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’m not sure they do more than tolerate anyone but themselves.”

"So, how did they end up untangling their crossed romantic wires?" I asked.

"LB finally worked up the courage to confess to Chat's civilian side. He had given up on him and Ladybug being more than ‘friends’, and was ‘trying to move on.’” Rena added the air quotes to Carapace’s statement.

“They went out for like, two whole months before Ladybug decided to reveal her hero identity," Carapace continued, his grin growing wider. “Chat promptly revealed his [identity]. It took her another month to stop freaking out. Chat just glowed like he had swallowed a Christmas tree."

"She did not ‘freak out'," Rena said. "Ladybug was just upset that she had hurt his feelings unnecessarily."

Carapace leaned toward me and whispered loud enough to be overheard. “She freaked out.” Then he straightened. “We thought for a bit that she might actually break up with him out of guilt for turning him down for so many years. Especially--” He cut off as Rena placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, it's been fun,” she said, “but we have to get back to our public.” As she took Carapace's elbow, he saluted me with his glass and the two heroes moved off into the crowd. They were met with handshakes, hugs, and the smiles of adults and children alike.

#steelblaidds writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #ladynoir #married ladynoir #ml fanworks #ml fanfic #ml fanzine

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carf-writes · 1 year

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I think Oliver Queen would find out Batman's secret identity mostly through vibes...

When he was ten, his parents tried to get him to strike up a friendship with Bruce Wayne because it can’t ever hurt to know the richest man in the country but Bruce is just so fucking weird and morbid. He drags Ollie into his room and starts showing him his anatomy books and taxidermy and has he seen Taxi Driver? Because Travis Bickle inspired a real attempted assassination. But also maybe he had a point? And then Bruce is taking down his books on the Zodiac Killer and explaining how he thinks he’s cracked the cipher. And Ollie is just scared out of his mind. He thinks Bruce is going to vivisect him or something.

At the end of the night, he tells his parents that he spent the whole time with Bruce but he was actually hiding under a table somewhere for like two hours.

Then after that he tries to avoid Bruce at all times. Which isn’t hard because they’re ten and they live on opposite sides of the country. Until Oliver gets an invitation to Bruce Wayne’s 18th birthday party which is supposed to be a very big, very expensive bash. He doesn’t want to go because it might turn out to be weird but all his friends are going so he goes anyway.

… And it turns about to be pretty cool. (It’s a very big, expensive party with a lot of really drunk, really rich teenagers but it’s cool by Oliver’s standards) But no one actually seems to see Bruce there. He doesn’t make a speech, they don’t get him a cake or sing happy birthday, he doesn’t take over for the DJ, nothing. There are no pictures of him anywhere. Nobody gets any pictures of him. No one says they saw him. It’s like he wasn’t even there.

But everyone insists that Oliver must be wrong. Who would throw a party and then never show up? Creepy Bruce Wayne, that’s who.

For the next several years, Bruce is supposedly out of the country doing an indulgent world tour. Hotels get booked out for him but they can’t say if he actually check in. People claim to have seen him but they don’t have any proof. It’s always so-and-so told so-and-so that they saw him here. He’s kind of like this fun cryptid. The richest man in the world is somewhere in the world. The late night shows do a spoof of Carmen Sandiego about it.

But every year, Bruce supposedly shows up to his birthday bash except Oliver goes every year and never sees him. There’s photos that circulate around but Oliver’s met Bruce and these are just some random other dark haired guys. He puts together that every year the crowd unknowingly selects some random dude to be that year’s Bruce Wayne, sometimes there’s two or three or four.

One year Oliver even dyes his hair and he gets to be Bruce Wayne for the day.

It’s fun. But the real Bruce? He’s up to something.

When Oliver comes back from his sojourn on an island and is deciding to clean up his act and maybe start dressing up in green and shooting people with arrows, he finds out that Bruce is back in Gotham. He’s gone from a guy who nobody knew what he looked like to one of the most recognizable faces.

Every week the gossip rags have a new crazy Bruce Wayne headline.

“Bruce Wayne accidentally schedules two dates with two models at the same time, at the same restaurant. Models proceed to fight over him and wreck the restaurant, forcing Wayne to buy it.” There’s a viral video and everything. Except it’s not hard for Oliver to find out that the “models” are actually amateaur professional wrestlers.

“Bruce Wayne trips and knocks ice sculpture onto newly elected Gotham mayor.” Nobody bothers to mention that getting absolutely clobbered by an ice sculpture is what saved the mayor from being shot by a political rival.

“Bruce Wayne lets child ward drive his car. Kid accidentally puts car in reverse instead of drive and backs into and wrecks Lex Luthor’s custom McLaren.” That one just seems intentional. The kid even looks behind him as he’s backing up.

Sure people change over the course of 18 years, Oliver has certainly changed but he just can’t square this absolute buffoon with the kid who bragged about how he was already studying calculus. And it’s just so calculated. Just like the parties, it’s like a facade of being a rich playboy, not the real thing. Oliver knows the real thing. He’s been the real thing.

Then he walks into a meeting of the new, as yet unnamed, coalition of heroes and meets Batman for the first time. The familiar wave of hibbie-jibbies runs up his spine but he’s not a kid anymore so he just smirks.

“So do you still think Travis Bickle was kind of right?”

#oliver queen #bruce wayne #green arrow #batman #dc #dc comics #justice league

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aerythwrites · 10 days

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possible oneshot or series ahead~

plot: canon, post-war / post-rumbling, our doctor mc is relocated from their home country, Erilea, one of the few areas spared by the rumbling, to Eldia, formerly Paradis. this fic is doctor!oc x postwar!levi !

“I’ll see you again in a week, Mr. Mullins,” the woman in the sterile-white lab coat concluded, her tone the usual ‘customer service cheery’. “Keep washing and covering that wound with gauze every twenty-four hours, and I can remove your stitches next time.”

Aelin finished washing her hands for the umpteenth time that day, offering the man a considerate smile. She handed him his handwritten discharge instructions. Silently as ever, as were most of her patients after the things they’d witnessed, he nodded his thanks as he took the papers from the doctor and made his way out of the clinic, albeit slowly. Aelin only watched him leave for a moment. She didn’t over-analyze his slowed gait, didn’t allow pity to show in her eyes despite the constant cloud that remained over the surviving population. Her tired but caffeinated eyes only lingered on his left side, near his hip. The bandaged row of stitches, twenty-six to be exact, that lie beneath his shirt. She noted how he favored his other side and didn’t allow his elbow to touch the area, and turned away, satisfied. Not all patients were willing to go so gently with themselves, despite how necessary it was.

But Aelin knew nobody wanted pity. Especially not the war veterans that filled up most of her appointments. It had been just a few months shy of a year since the Rumbling; since eighty-percent of the humanity had been stomped out of existence. Nearly nine months since all lands as countries and governments fell, aside from Paradis, now simply dubbed Eldia, and Erilea, Aelin’s home country. It had been on the near opposite side of the world to Eldia, across several now-defunct continents and bodies of water. She’d watched the Colossal Titans from one of the countless grassy cliffs that hung over the sandy beaches of Erilea, what would have been eye-level to the monsters that were approaching. And then they’d just… stopped. Only through the radio in her pack, minutes later, did she hear the genuinely unbelievable news. The Founding Titan had been stopped, by the Eldians closest to him, nonetheless. And then the monstrous beings simply collapsed, suddenly lifeless and dissolving in the air and steam that rose from the waters they’d been traversing. Those Aelin knew had taken shelter on the highest peak, several miles away, but she’d done enough cowering and hiding and living in fear. If she were going to die, she figured, she may as well do so bravely. Her parents- the two people who’d adopted her at a young age when the wars claimed her biological parents- had begged her not to, as did her few college and work friends, but she couldn’t listen. She’d taken the safer path throughout life as soon as she was able; basic schooling, then college, then interning at the local clinic. She’d never joined the military, but her parents and everybody else insisted that her mind was needed elsewhere. At twenty-six, she held three degrees. One doctorate in medicine, one masters in science, and a certification in international relations. The certificate was just a recommendation from an academic advisor, something extra to tack onto a resume, one she hadn’t realized would be even the slightest bit beneficial in her future.

After six months in Eldia, all other countries having fallen, her old college textbooks had been copied several hundred times over and began to be used in even primary schools. Eldia wouldn’t make the same mistake as its previous leaders; the people there would know the truth of history, painful as it may be.

How else could they hope not to repeat it anytime soon?

Aelin checked out for her lunch break, retreating to the quiet of the office she’d been gracefully offered. She wasn’t used to all these people; she’d lived in a more rural part of Erilea, worked in a clinic where she knew every patient by name within the first month.

Now, she couldn’t recall any of their names. Or their charts. She’d read Carl Mullins’ chart several times over and even took it into the room with her when she’d met with him again. It was their sixth appointment. She’d been the one to stitch up that wound on his side, amazed that he survived it to begin with.

Aelin sighed as she forced herself to take a bite of apple. The closed curtains in her office helped the encroaching headache, allowed her eyes to rest. Her appetite had been waning over the past months; seeing the end results of a genocidal war tended to do that to a person, especially when they were caring for the survivors. Although a majority of patients who would die from their injuries already had, either from blood loss, infection, or irreversible damage, those deaths- the fact that she couldn’t save them- weighed heavy. The purple tint below her tired eyes, even more contrasting with the hazel-jade color of her irises and taupe of the freckles that dotted her features, made that weight visible to everyone.

Not that they didn’t have the same tired, yet relieved expressions. No more war, no more fear… but the repercussions were far from over, at least for a doctor. Seeing the wounds caused, the emptiness behind surviving soldiers’ eyes, the several filing cabinets filled with nothing but deceased reports.

Aelin still had some time on her break; she let her hair down from its tight elastic prison, massaging her scalp with the tips of her fingers and nails. Loose auburn coils tickled her face and neck as she did so.

She’d had headaches all her life, only exacerbated by stress, lack of sleep; by existing, really. Holistic medicines had helped her back home. Her mother- adoptive mother- had been one of those people who lived and died by teas and herbs and natural remedies. She’d given Aelin a colorful tin full of the herbs, ground into a concentrated almost-powder, so as to fit more in the container; she knew she wouldn’t be back for a time. A majority of Erileans chose to remain in their home country, though Eldia offered the space and welcome nature for them to move there, as well. Which meant that Aelin’s mother was on the other side of the world, quite literally. With no time off to go visit her and her mother’s skills with herbs and holistic medicine needed at home, they’d kept in contact with weekly letters- but that was it.

What she wouldn’t have given for a single cup of that tea. She’d made it last nearly six months before it was gone- the only remedy to her headaches… The only one that didn’t make her feel too fuzzy and warm to be of any use, anyway.

Opium helped. It also knocked her out for a minimum of eight to twelve hours, after spending some time fucked up beyond belief.

Eyes gazing at the clock to her right, Aelin let out a deep sigh, hoping some of the throbbing in her skull would ebb with it. It didn’t. She had some time left in her break, but she knew that sitting there in a dark room dwelling on the tragedy of the war would only make her mentally spiral.

Instead of igniting several hundred more coals under her scalp by pulling her hair back into that tight bun, her nimble fingers carefully wove the loose red ringlets into a bun. Tight enough to keep hair from falling into her eyes or a patients open would, loose enough to just barely worsen the thumping in her head.

With that, Aelin re-emerged from the dimly lit office, down the hall, and to the front desk. She had twenty minutes left before her next scheduled patient, so she leaned on the oak desk on her elbows, eyes grazing over the thankfully short list of names that remained on her schedule. Most Eldian patients preferred Eldian doctors, and for once, she didn’t mind that preference. She’d be free from the clinic before nightfall for once; only three remaining on her schedule.

The receptionist must have been on her break, too; which was odd, given the several people in the waiting area. Appointments were intentionally not scheduled during a single hour in the afternoon, so that nobody would be waiting thirty-plus-minutes to get in with their doctor. She flipped through the pages on the desk; neither of her fellow doctors had appointments for the next two hours. She, however, had one; in twenty minutes. Her gaze cast back up, meeting the two people several meters away.

A young girl, probably almost in her teens sat beside a man closer to Aelin’s age, a cane resting between them. The girl wore a sunhat over her warm brown hair, eyes a similar shade of chestnut. Though she looked like any other young girl, Aelin could see that slightly distant gaze behind her eyes. The hollowness of a child who must have seen the war up close.

The man next to her was no different than the girl or the other patients she’d cared for, though Aelin couldn’t recall seeing him recently. A black undercut hairstyle, a left dark gray iris visible, the other a faded near-white. An answering line of stitches went from his hairline, stopping at that eye and continuing over his cheek, upper lip, and chin. The edges of that laceration seemed irritated, slightly inflamed… but it was healed, otherwise.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have just brough the wheelchair,” the girl crossed her arms as she snipped gently at the man. His eyebrows raised slightly; they’d had this discussion before, several times by the answering tired, slightly annoyed expression he wore.

“I’ve told you four times now, Braun. My leg feels fine today-“

“Is that why you walked all the way here with a limp?” She interrupted, the man visibly closing both eyes with a withheld frustration. Aelin noted that ten minutes still remained before her next appointment, but still stood from the desk, setting down the appointment list and grabbing the next chart in her dwindling pile.

“Mr. Ackerman?” He angled his head, eye meeting Aelin’s momentarily. She motioned with her hand to the door before she opened it. Her gaze didn’t dwell on him as he slowly stood, visibly favoring his right leg.

“Levi,” the girl hissed in a whisper. “Just take the cane already!”

Silence followed in the waiting room as he blatantly ignored her, soft footsteps as Levi made his way into the room. Aelin grazed over his chart as he sat, closing the door herself.

“I’m Dr. Collins. What seems to be-“

“My eye. The stitches- I need them removed.” Blunt, straightforward. His gaze didn’t meet hers as she sat his chart down moments later, padding over to him as she took a closer look at the line of black twine. Aelin didn’t allow herself to pay any attention to the way he smelled of earth and herbs, but she did take note of his breathing, chest rising and falling slightly quicker than it should be, despite his calm and cold expression.

It hadn’t been done professionally, that was for sure. And they must have been in there for some time-

“When were these stitches placed, Mr. Ackerman?” Aelin backed away to retrieve a pair of gloves, as well as several tools and items from glass jars and drawers. He was silent for a few seconds.

“About a year ago.”

Aelin chewed her cheek as she thought, pulling on the gloves before pulling the rolling stool over to sit before him. He was only an inch or two taller than her, she noted.

He should have had these removed after a month at the very most.

“Have you… seen a doctor in the last twelve months?”

“No.”

Aelin analyzed the red-tinged irritation around each stitch, the almost fully-healed line of a scar down the very middle. Although they were clearly not done by a doctor- and could she blame him?- they were done with a clean precision.

“Whomever stitched you up did a fine job, however… these shouldn’t have been in for more than four weeks.”

“Not a fan of doctors’ offices.”

She’d heard that line a million times in her career already. She simply nodded as she leaned forward, roughly six inches from his face. No discharge or blood, Aelin noted.

“Well, I can remove these for you no problem.” Aelin explained, unwrapping small scissors and tweezers before sitting them on a sterile tray. “However, you’d be wise to take some antibiotics home with you. Your main wound may have closed, but the… forty-odd holes from these stitches haven’t, and that redness and swelling is a sign of a possible infection.” Aelin grasped the tweezers and leaned closer.

“This shouldn’t hurt, but you may feel a small sting, or feel the wire being pulled through,” she continued. “May I?”

Levi hummed a soft sound of consent before Aelin began working. She snipped the individual stitches; two sets of twenty-one, before steadily pulling the threat through. His eyes had fluttered closed as she began, brows furrowing every few stitches, either feeling the odd sensation of the twine being removed or the slight pinch.

She was halfway through before she spoke, a slight smile to her tone.

“I noticed in your chart; you have some trouble with your left leg?”

Levi sighed, eyes still closed.

“It was injured during the Rumbling. Acts up sometimes.” He seemed reluctant to answer honestly, especially with the young girl in the waiting area having hounded him about it already.

Aelin noticed, mere inches away from Levi’s face, that his breath smelled slightly of herbs, similar to tea blends. It was a welcome reprieve from the usual patient she had, where she’d hold her breath until she could move away from their faces. She nodded as he spoke, continuing her work with her eyes trained on each stitch. Levi’s eyes opened, meeting hers for a mere second in the oddly not-uncomfortable silence before closing again.

“There’s no shame in using mobility aids, Mr. Ackerman.” Her tone was not coddling, not pitying; simply honest. She didn’t mention his time in the military, what a sacrifice he’d made for humanity. She was sure he didn’t want to hear it.

“I know that,” Levi bit out quietly.

“I believe you.” She stated, pulling the last stitch free before pulling back. His eyes opened again, a slightly confused expression muddling his features for only a moment.

“Have you been working in any unsanitary environments? Dusty, anything like that?”

“No…?”

“Then we likely don’t need to cover these. The holes are so small, they’re unlikely to get infected if they haven’t already. They should close up over the following days.”

Levi nodded, though he didn’t move to stand from where he sat while Aelin rolled away on the stool to remove her gloves, throwing them and the discarded materials away.

“No lecture on the leg, Doc?” He spoke with a sigh.

“Didn’t think you needed one. I’m sure you know that you’ve likely broken something that was then not given a chance to heal correctly. Seems that girl of yours may have lectured you enough.”

Levi snorted an almost-laugh, a soft grin on the corners of his lips for only a moment before disappearing.

“The girl isn’t mine- but I’d say you’re correct, otherwise.” His deep voice was almost playful.

“Is there anything else that’s been bothering you, Mr. Ackerman?” Aelin asked politely, a snicker in her first few words. She could practically hear his thoughts out loud; only everything and everyone. But she could also feel that headache ebbing back as she sat under the fluorescent lighting, a slight wince in one eye as she blinked.

“No, that was it.”

And with that, Aelin took one of the readily available bottles of antibiotics. Instructions were written on both the label and she copied them onto his papers; two each day for seven days. Take with food and water. May cause drowsiness.

“If you have any problems or notice any more or unusual symptoms like swelling, increased redness, pain in the area, or it feels hot to the touch, please come see us immediately.” She rattled off the extra instructions as she handed Levi his items, watching as he stood. “Oh, and Mr. Ackerman?”

“Just Levi is fine,” he slightly gritted out as he stood, only causing Aelin to raise an eyebrow.

“I won’t harp on you, Levi, but, and I mean this genuinely, use your mobility aids. Seriously. I can’t force you and I won’t tell you again, but there’s no pride in needless suffering.” Aelin spoke quietly before moving to open the door. Levi stood still for a moment as he simply listened and watched her, and for a few more seconds in the silence before nodding.

After holding the door for Levi, Aelin walked out behind him and discarded his chart on the desk where she would sit to finish his patient notes before her next and last appointment of the day. Golden hour was approaching, buttery rays of sunshine from the windows seeming to physically warm the room.

She looked up for a moment as Levi reached the younger girl. She held out the wooden stick, clearly not expecting him to take it, although her expression was just daring him not to, threatening to nag him about it their entire trip home if he didn’t. Though he didn’t even look at her expression, Levi’s hand reached for the stick in hers, snatching it quickly. His eye met the girl’s, lids narrowed.

“Not a word, Gabi.” His tone was low, and she shut her opening lips before snarking whatever she’d planned. Actual shock in her brown eyes as she watched Levi walking with the stick on his left side, some tension and pain visually fading from his posture.

Gabi’s wide eyes met Aelin’s, and as Levi turned to leave, she jumped to her feet to follow.

“Thank you, miss! We’ve been fighting with him to use that for, like, ever!” She shouted as she followed Levi out of the door. “You stubborn old man!” Gabi’s distant shout resounded.

Aelin swore she heard him groan from outside, and she suppressed a chuckle.

Aelin hung her messenger bag on the lone chair at her dining table, ripping the elastic from her braid before she sat down. After running her fingers through the swirling tresses, she laid her head on her arms, closing her eyes and breathing in the comforting scent of home. It was a tiny one-bedroom cabin near the center city of Eldia, not suffocatingly tiny yet not too big for one person. It was a stark yet welcome contrast from her cluttered home in Erilea; trinkets lining the walls, handmade rugs from local markets hugging the floor in most rooms. Here, only papers cluttered her table, washed dishes still sitting on the drying rack, dry clothes sitting in a hamper in her bedroom. She wasn’t dirty, per say, but Aelin was certainly cluttered. Her home merely mirrored her mind.

Another day, another headache. And the patient she’d had after that war vet only made it unbearably worse.

Another one of those patients who only wanted an Eldian doctor, a male one specifically, and Aelin was neither. Yet, he also wanted an appointment that day, demanded it, their receptionist had told her.

That appointment took her forty-five minutes longer than necessary. First, the guy fought the idea of who his doctor was. He demanded a male, Eldian doctor. Then, when he realized he’d be shit out of luck in that department, he argued everything she said and did.

“I don’t need a check up, I need meds,” the moment she tried to simply look at the wrapped portion of his forearm.

When he finally relented to let her look at it, he balked when she told him how often it needed cleansed and replaced bandages.

An hour after taking him back, he stomped out of the clinic, bag of antibiotics and pain medication in his hand, freshly-cleansed and wrapped wound on the other arm. It must have been weeks since he had even unwrapped the thing.

And now she sat at her table, exhaustion dragging her down. When she winced from her headache in the office shortly after that patient had left, their receptionist remembered the whole tea issue.

“Oh! Aelin!” Rosa held a hand out, her freshly painted red nails glinting in the lights. “I wanted to tell you, there’s this tea shop a few blocks away! It opened up like a month ago but I only just now saw it! You said you used to drink tea for your migraines?”

“Mhm,” Aelin hummed as she held the strap of her bag, leaning drained against the white wall.

“Wellll, don’t you think you should check it out?” Rosa mused, her pink lips in a smile, blue eyes supportive.

“I dunno,” Aelin sighed. “My mom grew and mixed that stuff herself-“

“But it smelled just like that tea you used to make!”

“I’m sure it did,” Aelin mused, rolling her eyes teasingly. “Most herbs just smell herby or flowery.” She didn’t have much confidence that Rosa, of all people, would be able to pinpoint the exact mixture of leaves down to a local teashop.

“Oh, whatever,” Rosa grumbled before sticking her tongue out. “At least go check it out! Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy there- or girl, whatever floats your boat.”

Aelin nearly choked on air, coughing as she laughed. Of course Rosa was boy-crazy, she was only, nineteen.

“Okay, what floats my boat is none of your business, Rosie,” Aelin tried to be serious, but chuckled the entire time. “I’ll see you on Monday, alright?”

And that was what lead Aelin strolling down the cobblestone streets, the sun still casting dull, orange hues as it began to set. She wore her usual non-office clothing: a button-up white shirt, dark-blue jeans, and her hiking boots. They’d been so worn-in, they were more comfortable than the shoes she had to wear in the clinic. She only stopped before leaving home to brush her hair- the mop of waves and curls tangled so easily it wasn’t even funny, but she refused to make her head hurt any worse by styling it in any way. The breeze tossed her elbow-length hair around her back and arms. If she were lucky, brushing it out later wouldn’t shoot pain through her skull.

The scents of the recovering city were divine; fresh flowers, restaurants ranging from baked goods to sandwiches and full dinners, the scent of produce in the market. People had become so peaceful; no dense tension in the air, no visible fear for the end or anticipating attacks. It was so… odd. Even though she grew up in Erilea, the mood in public had been the same as it had been in Marley, although maybe a little less intense, given the distance.

She passed street after street until she found it. The small building wasn’t on her usual route through town, so of course she hadn’t noticed it before. The old brick building had been repainted a forest green, one wide window on the left side displaying tin after tin of pre-made tea blends. Aelin opened the door, a soft bell chiming as the cool and inviting scents enveloped her. Jasmine, rose, eucalyptus, mint, rosemary, lemon balm… If she closed her eyes, she could practically feel herself walking in the front door of her parents’ house, could hear her mother welcoming her home from school.

But she wasn’t home, she reminded herself silently. She scanned the (thankfully) warmly and dimly-lit shop. A counter, similar to a bar with stools lined before it, and several tables scattered throughout.

And to her surprise, not a speck of dust littered any surface. The polished hardwood floor nearly sparkled in the glow of the sunset outside, the mahogany tables and counter just as bright and clean.

Whoever runs this place must be quite the neat freak.

Aelin padded over to the counter, intending on checking out the line of displayed tea blends, when she heard soft, muffled footsteps from behind a pine-colored door marked ‘employees only’. When that door creaked open, she swore her heart stopped for a moment. She swore it had to be a coincidence… right?

There stood Levi, the very patient she’d treated earlier that day. In his left hand was that walking stick; for whatever reason, he’d heeded her advice. His eyes were downcast at where he held several ceramic teacups, which he bent down cautiously to place under the counter.

Aelin considered her options. Should she run or something? Would he think she was stalking him? Should she say anything-

“Glad to see you took my advice,” she blurted out, a polite smile on her lips with a hint of a smirk. She wasn’t teasing him; just trying to make some kind of friendly conversation, make this less awkward.

“Oh, it’s you,” he breathed as he stood awkwardly. His expression appeared puzzled, probably just as much as hers had.

“Our receptionist, Rosa- she mentioned that there was a new tea shop-“

“I opened this place weeks ago,” his voice was still firm and cold as ever, though he seemed a little amused with how she stammered to explain.

“Well, I get these headaches- I always have, and I brought this tea from Erilea because it’s the only thing that helps but doesn’t make me feel all fucked up and put me to sleep for half a day, and-“

He snickered at her sudden cursing, already opening a drawer to analyze what herbs he had that could fit that bill.

“I ran out a few weeks ago and my head’s been killing me all the time, and I-“

“Do you know what that blend was made of?”

“Huh?” Aelin gaped, slightly out of breath. The playful smirk that lilted on his lips caught her attention, and her cheeks flushed slightly. Gods, she’d really been rambling.

“I asked if you know what that blend consisted of, Doctor.” Levi explained plainly, crossing his arms as he stood across from her.

“Please, call me Aelin when I’m not in the clinic,” she chuckled softly, slightly embarrassed still. “But, uh… ginger, maybe willow bark… peppermint and clove… and feverfew, I think?” She spoke slowly, trying to remember all her mother had mixed into that blend.

Levi actually looked… impressed?

“Do you know much about herbs and tea, Aelin?” Levi asked curiously as he began opening and closing drawers, turning away to also check several shelves.

“You could say that. I know a good deal about some medicinal ones, but it was my mother who was really big into tea. Grew her own herbs and everything,” she chuckled before explaining matter-of-factly.

“I see,” Levi hummed, partially to himself. He really seemed in his element, Aelin noticed, as he began to measure out different ingredients. Some full leaves, others ground up; he even pulled out fresh cloves and began to grind them with a mortar and pestle.

Aelin couldn’t help but wonder how this seasoned war veteran had fought in the Rumbling, survived all of that, only to open a tea shop. He could have been set for life, retiring then and there. She’d heard many of the other original Eldians had done just that, and she didn’t judge them in the slightest for it. Then again, she also admired the idea of living such a difficult life only to choose a peaceful occupation afterwards. Levi was only in his early thirties, his chard said.

“Why tea?” She found herself wondering out loud. Before she could feel bashful for asking something that could be so personal, he explained.

“It was something I always took an interest in, I guess.” Levi’s voice softened slightly as he began boiling a kettle of water, the tea blend placed into a metal spoon-looking thing with holes. “It helped me a lot, from the beginning.” He didn’t delve deeper than that as the kettle began to boil; he removed it from the heat.

“Why medicine?” He echoed, what seemed like genuine interest in his eye as it met hers. She felt an odd sense of ease wash over her with that glance… comfortable. Wanting to tell him.

“There was this sickness when I was young. People of all ages would get this fever and it would just keep rising and rising, and… I lost people dear to me.” Aelin took a deep breath while she spoke, eyes trained on his slender hands, watching him pour the water into a cup before sinking the leaves into it. “Then the war came. And all these people would return home only to die from that sickness or some other illness or infection. I’ve never been very physically gifted, but I passed every class I ever took with honors, and, well… just seemed like the right choice.” She shrugged, meeting his gaze again.

Levi seemed to study her for a moment before removing the leaves and handing her the cup. She knew to wait unless she wanted to scald her mouth.

“As good a reason as any,” Levi agreed with a soft nod. She wouldn’t ask him about the war, about how he’d gotten so injured, or why he chose the military- if he even had a choice. She could see it in his eyes; his grief went far beyond what the average soldier experienced, even with the Rumbling included.

As if he noticed what she’d uncovered, as though she were reading him like a book, Levi allowed his usual mask of cool numbness to slip back over his features. He didn’t survive the Rumbling and all of the other fucked up shit in his life just to rehash it with a random woman in his teashop.

Levi motioned for her to take a sip, and she nodded before obediently holding the teacup… with simply a hand over the top.

“Who showed you how to hold a teacup like that?” He quizzed her, un-scarred eyebrow raised in interest. He’d finished drying that metal utensil, returning it and throwing the clean hand-towel over his shoulder before leaning against the rounded counter edge. His eye didn’t leave her face as she tasted the tea.

As she did so, he allowed himself a moment- one single moment to look her over. Levi wasn’t the type of man to look at women, to find any person appealing or attractive. He hadn’t been given the chance other men half his age had had; no peace, no safety. Any girl or woman he’d met- the men, too- had died eventually. His mother, Isabel, Petra, Hange, even though they didn’t always identify that way… He’d schooled himself well into not getting close with anyone. He’d lived that way his entire life.

Then Levi had slipped up in the scouts. Close with Erwin- dead. Close with those cadets, and how many died in the end? He’d still barely given Gabi and Falco the time of day, even though they’d been practically attached to him since the war ended. He had nearly a year since then, and hadn’t given his attention to any women. Not that they hadn’t looked his way; Levi certainly didn’t have any trouble when it came to women taking interest in him.

But he allowed himself this; the shade of that doctor’s hair, more orange than auburn. Curlier than he’d seen most people have. She had freckles, which were uncommon in Eldia, but they were a nice contrast to her pale complexion. The soft indigo under and around her eyes showed just how taxing her career choice had been, especially in the past year; he knew that feeling all too well, although his position as a Captain in the Scout Regiment had been vastly different. Her eyes were a light shade of hazel, closer to honey than coffee, but with visible spots of green. Her arms and face were on the more slender side, but the rest of her figure-

“Wow, this is like, spot on, Levi!” She exclaimed, shock visible in her slightly widened eyes. He tore his from her after a beat of silence, noticing how her cheeks flushed ever so slightly again, if not from the warmth of the tea. “Seriously, this is great,” she continued.

“Glad you like it,” he responded simply, his voice slightly gruff. He didn’t allow the soft smile that he felt creeping on his lips to show, instead taking a moment to write down what herbs he used to make that cup, as well as their measurements.

Only a few minutes passed before Aelin felt the herbs in her otherwise empty stomach working their magic, much to her relief. Her shoulders fell slightly from where they’d been tensed up, a relaxed sigh leaving her nose.

“Wow,” she sighed dreamily as that throbbing pressure slowly ebbed away.

“Hit you that quick? Usually takes about twenty minutes,” Levi commented, curiously watching her expression.

“Works faster on an empty stomach,” Aelin breathed, unable to shake the relieving calm that washed over her entire being. Be that from the tea or from the energy radiating from the company of the man before her, she didn’t want to wonder.

Levi simply rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly.

“Wait, Levi, what do I owe you for this? I didn’t see any prices listed anywhere.”

“It depends on which herbs used, the amount, and so on,” Levi explained. “Consider it payment for removing my stitches earlier.” He teased halfheartedly, though his expression was still firm.

“No, I can’t possibly-“ Aelin began as she dug in the pockets of her pants and shirt for her wallet.

“Tsk,” Levi clicked his tongue. “You try to pay me for that cup, and I’m taking it back,” he threatened, eyebrows raised in an expression that screamed ‘try me, I’ll do it’.

“You would waste a half a cup of tea if I tried to pay you for it.” It was a statement, not a question. Her jaw dropped slightly, snapping shut as he reached forward with his uninjured hand. She ripped her hands from her pockets to carefully cradle the cup, pulling it to her chest.

“That’s what I thought.” Levi remarked, having the audacity to smirk. He didn’t need the money; having been the Captain of the team that took the Founding Titan down, he likely wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of his life.

Other patrons were still expected and required to pay, of course.

“Fine,” Aelin grumbled as she swallowed the rest of the quickly cooling tea quickly. He took her empty cup and began washing it in the sink immediately.

Jeez, he really is a clean freak. Not the worst quality, but still.

“Oh, and if you were thinking about tipping me,” he began, voice low but slightly amused. Aelin’s eyes narrowed from where she stood once more; she saw spots in her vision for a second before they faded. She really did need to eat. But she grumbled as she shoved her wallet away again.

Levi snickered. Actually laughed, even if just a little.

“I saw you almost eat shit just now,” he teased as he returned to the counter, drying and placing the cup back where it belonged. Levi’s eyes met hers again; a challenge. “As payment for my services, I’d like you to promise me you’ll stop at the sandwich shop up the street and eat something more than just water.”

Aelin balked, laughing incredulously.

“You want me to what?”

“You heard me.” He didn’t budge, his expression slightly more serious, more commanding, despite the soft smirk there and the playful energy in the air.

“I’m not a fan of sandwiches, personally.” She challenged in return, leaning against the counter, less than a foot apart. Levi noticed a soft, playful glint in her eyes, somehow bringing the green out.

“The pastry place, then, I don’t give a shit. Just eat something before you faint in my shop.”

“Fine.” She spoke through slightly clenched teeth, a soft smirk on her lips to match the one he’d had earlier.

“Fine,” Levi repeated.

Aelin stood to leave.

“Shall I expect you to follow me here tomorrow, as well?” Levi snarked as he turned back to the shelves, organizing some jars.

“No. Thanks for the tea, Levi,” Aelin snorted as she left, shaking her head.

#lmk if u want more of this as a series pls!!#nervous first post :.)#aot fic #aot #aot oc #oc #levi fic

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reservoirreputation · 5 months

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It's Fic Posting-Eve! Leave out imaginary milk and cookies for your local, very tired writer.

Would anyone like a teaser?

(I don't do this for the whole fic, but I highly recommend listening to Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum for this section)

Dead Doggies Aren’t Much Fun

Cycle One

A few months after the warehouse shooting, the robbers are put to rest.

‘Mr. Brown’ enjoyed many things in life, none more so than his cars. Cherished rides went to some of his most trusted friends, and members of the club he went to every month made up most of the attendees at his funeral. Other classic car enthusiasts made the long procession from funeral home to grave site, and stood by his weepy Mama as she watched her son be lowered six feet under.

In another city, on this same day, ‘Mr. Pink’ is getting the ‘fast food’ treatment; a tiny funeral home with viewings by the hour, fast and cheap catharsis for those that bother to show. Pink insisted on being all-business in life, putting as little of himself out there for others to get to know. Turns out, this extended to his personal life, too. No friends, work colleagues, family members, not even a greedy distant cousin. In and out of the viewing room, cardboard lining containing his body lifted out of the casket, and carried off to be cremated. A few days later, his ashes will be ready, unclaimed.

By far, ‘Mr. Blue’s funeral is the most fun. He lived a fast life, knew it could be over at any moment, and made plans amongst his friends, years before. Everyone’s on their best behavior at the closed-casket viewing, in front of funeral home employees. Then later, at the wake, back at Blue’s apartment, everyone relaxes. Dozens of people in the cramped space, several kinds of alcohol served, from cheap shit to top shelf, substances of every kind imaginable are passed around, from uppers to downers and everything in-between. Stories are told, followed by uncontrollable laughter in response to things that weren’t really funny at all. Two days later, the attendees of the wake will have little to no recollection of their time at the apartment, but will still feel satisfied.

Joe Cabot and his son, Eddie, are buried side-by-side. Father is laid to rest in a three piece Italian suit, and son in his favorite tracksuit. The only one more lavishly dressed than the deceased is Joe’s young widow, Theresa. Decked out head-to-toe in luxury brands, all black for taste, she hugs her fur coat closer around her middle. She’s practically baking in the summer heat, but it’s the one that Joe got for her birthday, and she wanted to wear it for him, at least once. Mascara runs down her face as everyone around her is convinced she must be faking it, but Theresa ignores the onlookers; broken hearts don’t care about anything but what they’ve lost.

Marvin Nash has a closed casket funeral. His widow and son sit up front, joined by her and Marvin’s parents. The LAPD has generously agreed to pay for his funeral, the casket, the plot, everything. It’s the least they can do, after all, for letting him die. His widow can’t stand the idea of remaining in the city, plans on moving back in with her parents on the other side of the country. She even wanted Marvin cremated, so she’d have no ties here, no reason to come back, but his parents insisted that their son would want to stay in his hometown. With much regret, and even more courage, she agrees, mentally preparing herself to create a physical distance of thousands of miles between herself and her Marvin.

Vincent Vega enters the funeral home, Mia on his arm. It’s eerily quiet, despite the place being packed. Row after row is filled with people Vincent doesn’t recognize, knows he’s never met in his life. Eyes follow the pair all the way up to the front, where a space is reserved for the two of them.

After thirty minutes of awkward silence, the funeral director kindly asks if anyone has anything to say. Standing up, smoothing out his suit, Vincent goes to the podium, already sweating. He tries focusing in on Mia, who’s beaming despite the morbid setting, “Er, thank you all for coming here, today. I’m sure Vic would appreciate your presence.” he can’t help looking behind him to his aforementioned brother, lying in the open casket. “Uh, Vic-” he fumbles for the note in his breast pocket, “-was a wonderful brother.” the rest of the paper is blank, ‘Shit.’ “Very driven.” He could be quite lazy, “Knew what he wanted.” Vic went along with what people said, most of the time, but was impulsive, as well. “Cared about his friends.” Vincent nods to random people in the crowd, hoping one of them showed up. “Was his own man.” Vic did anything Eddie Cabot asked of him, and was the only person that could tell Vic Vega what to do. “And I’ll miss him very much.” ‘I can’t wait to see what’s in his will.’

#reservoir dogs #fanfic #writers #writing #teaser

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thistleandthorn-rpg · 5 months

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Congrats April with your audition for Ryan Li! Please check out this page here for a reminder on what to do next, and send us his blog within 48 hours. Welcome back!!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: April Preferred pronoun: she/her Age: old Timezone/Country: CST RP Experience: lots Activity Level: 5-7

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Ryan Li Designation: Switch Age: 25 Birthdate: June 24, 1998 Faceclaim: Derek Luh Orientation: Bisexual Kinks: Sensation Play, Pain Play, Bondage, Breath Play, Impact Play, Body Worship Anti-Kinks: Scat, Degradation, Age Play, Pet Play

Key Points:

Resourceful

Friendly but guarded

Distrustful of authority but won’t openly defy it

Self-conscience about academic ability/performance

BIO:

While Ryan knew that happy and successful claims obviously existed, growing up with a front row seat to his parents’ toxic and abusive claim caused him to view the whole system as a way to force people to stay trapped in horrible situations. Even though neither of his parents physically abused him, they were always more focused on making each other miserable to pay any attention to him. The neglect caused him to miss a lot of school as a child, which in turn caused his dyslexia to go undiagnosed for much longer than normal. By the time he finally understood what was ‘wrong’ with him, he was already way behind other kids his age and had convinced himself that his problem was that he was just too stupid to learn anything. When he turned 16, Ryan decided to drop out of high school and preferred to couch surf, with the occasional bout of living on the streets of Cleveland, over spending another second in his childhood home.

Even though the government would like people to think they are in control of everything, it was impossible for them to keep track of everyone. Ryan found out quickly that if you managed to stay on the outskirts of society, you could basically become invisible to most of the world. However, even if you wanted to stay hidden, you still needed food and water, which meant that you also needed money. Since Ryan wasn’t able to get a normal job, he had to resort to illegal means of acquiring it. While he wasn’t necessarily proud of it, he did what he had to do to survive and at least tried to make sure not to physically harm anyone. For several years, this method worked for him until he was finally arrested for theft. Fortunately, he was caught with only a few hundred dollars of stolen property on him and since it was his first time being caught, they only charged him with a misdemeanor. Unfortunately, getting caught meant that he was now back under the watchful eyes of the authority. To avoid any jail time, Ryan made a deal to finally receive his designation and attend an institution. While there were several schools in Cleveland that he could have gone to, it was decided for him to attend the one at Lima since his mother had some family in the area, and it distanced him from his friends that were deemed to be a bad influence. While he wasn’t excited in any way to be forced to finally find a claim, he was hopeful that he could at the very least find one that wasn’t as toxic as his parents.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received?

Even though I don’t really enjoy the thought of being forced into any kind of role, I think being a Switch is the best outcome I could have received. I’m honestly not sure which side I lean towards more, so at least it feels like I have a bit more control over my life then if I received the Dominant or submissive role.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it?

I mean… I’m never going to be thrilled about a system that forces people into roles and relationships. However, there’s nothing much that I can do since I’m not going to change the world or anything. Sadly, it’s pretty much a ‘can’t beat them, then I sadly have to join them’ situation. My parents are miserable together and have always been that way as long as I can remember, so I’m going to assume that they aren’t big fans of the system either.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate?

Well, it’s pretty much either I’m in a claim or I’m a slave. Out of those two options, obviously I’d choose the claim and can only hope that I won’t end up stuck in a miserable relationship for the rest of my life. As for a career, beats the fuck out of me. I don’t even have a high school diploma, so I’m obviously not going to be anything that requires any kind of education.

How do you feel about authority?

I think it’s pretty clear with my prior answers how I feel about it, but just in case you couldn’t tell, I’m not a fan. I think people should be able to control their own lives, but that’s not the world that we live in. Since that’s the case, I just plan to keep my head down and hopefully not cause any waves.

#accepted #april

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erivalle · 10 months

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Just got to rant about a conversation with my mother. If you read just consider this a general trigger warning. Kind of an avalanche of brief mentions of my issues.

"You didn't get rebellious until your early 20s"

Thanks mom. It definitely wasn't the onset of bipolar disorder and finally being out of the house of Mr slamming plates and cabinets to show anger and Mrs "if your dad and I divorce I'm taking you and your brother to north carolina". Yea a mental breakdown leading to me being a college drop out is comparable to teenage rebellion. Not just me being out of a toxic home environment and mismedicated. Definitely wasn't that. Just early 20s teenage rebellion. Not semitraumatic life events and a mental health decline. I just felt like being rebellious.

Which I don't even know what she perceives was rebellious about that time. Like my mental break was not me 'acting out' against my parents. It was a combination of stress of failing certain classes and being set back a year, losing my social circle, being on the wrong medication, and a few other things all piling together. Not me deciding to finally act out from a safe distance of 2 hours away. I didn't graduate and moved back in with dad and decided not to move in with her across the country. That's not rebellion that's me realizing how close to the edge I was and needing a change of pace to get my head on straight and deciding a familiar environment would be best. It just took me several years but hey moving in the right direction now.

And while we are at it no my lack of a romantic partner isn't due to trauma from yall divorcing or some assault I never reported (thanks dad though for asking gently if the reason Im not going on dates . It's due to different trauma. Lol got a love anxiety and issues and insecurities relating to my asexuality. And where the fuck am I supposed to meet anyone? I have one friendship I have managed to maintain over the years and I live with her. I am a massive flake with a lot of baggage and that's not conducive to maintaining a new relationship.

I am renting in a new house, just got a new job that I start with on Monday, I think I'm doing ok. Going from suicidal with an eating disorder (side note: love dad saying that I looked my best at the time that I was at least a year into disorded eating, in his defense he still doesnt know I even had an eating disorder), to medicated and managing my mental health and eating better, is great. Not where I could be but a million times better.

Like wtf mom. Way to hit a touchy subject in front of your best friend and my grandmother. Unintentionally hitting a sore spot, but really shows her interpretation of me suffering an extended crisis. And her utter unawareness to how much of an impact my childhood made to my early adulthood. And how twisted she and dad made my childhood. The fact that I held it together enough for it to only show in my early 20s is damn impressive. And the fact that certain things still impact how I react to certain situations (like my roommates fighting) really emphasizes how formative even small things were.

Wasn't late onset teenage rebellion. And way to go for the throat, great aim.

#erin's little thoughts

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thorntonkrell-blog-blog · 11 months

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It's Memorial Day again when we remember the sacrifices made by those who lost their lives in battle in service to their country or whatever.

File my uncle Phil under whatever. He lost his life at the Battle of Little Big Horn. America wasn't really his home. He came from Ireland and got involved in the Civil War without a true dog in the fight. Legend says that he spent time on both sides, recruited with the promise of some boots and some booze. When the going got tough, Phil got going.

Eventually he joined up with Custer. Bad decision.

He was at the Little Big Horn where he was slaughtered and mutilated along with Custer and 278 other guys, not that they didn't ask for it with their own manifest destiny aggression. I imagine he was one of those guys standing near Custer when the arrows started to fall wondering WTF and a half hour later, he was history.

Or was he?

Seems that my father became an expert on Custer. In doing his research, he discovered that a man named Phil Ryan was counted among the losses. My Dad made the great leap of faith and began touting the legend of Uncle Phil. He located a picture of some of the guys under Custer's command and decided that one of the guys looked something like me. That was good enough for him

When my father bought his future gravesite in Lima, New York near the resting place of his mother and father and future resting place of my mother, he thought it would be a nice gesture to add a tribute for "Uncle" Phil. He undertook a campaign to have Phil honored with a grave marker in the family plot. He wrote letters to the War Department, the Department of the Interior, the President, the Congressman and God knows who else.

Somehow, somebody listened.

We were sent a marker commemorating Phil which we placed near the future resting place of my Mom and Dad.

My father got a big kick out of this.

Every time we visit the gravesite of my parents and grandparents, we also visit the Phil Ryan marker and remember how much fun my Dad had procuring it and how proud he was of obtaining it.

Phil has got to be one of the few Last Stand guys commemorated in upstate New York.

If you ever visit the Lima cemetery check 'em out.

The Battle of Little Bighorn, also known as Custer's Last Stand, took place on June 25 and 26, 1876. The battle lasted for approximately two days. It was a significant conflict between the combined forces of several Native American tribes, primarily the Lakota Sioux and Northern Cheyenne, and the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. The battle ended in a decisive victory for the Native American forces and resulted in the death of Custer and nearly all of his men.

did some surviveChatGPT

Yes, there were a few survivors of the Battle of Little Bighorn. Most famously, Lieutenant Edward S. Godfrey and about 40 soldiers from Captain Frederick Benteen's detachment survived by taking a defensive position on a nearby hill during the battle. They were later rescued by General Terry's relief column. Additionally, a small group of soldiers under the command of Major Marcus Reno also survived the initial attack but suffered heavy casualties. However, the majority of the 7th Cavalry, including Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer and his immediate command, were killed in the battle.

how long did the attack lastChatGPT

The attack during the Battle of Little Bighorn was a complex series of engagements that took place over the course of several hours on June 25, 1876. The initial attack on the 7th Cavalry led by Major Marcus Reno and Captain Frederick Benteen lasted for approximately two to three hours. Reno's forces were initially successful in driving back the Native American warriors but soon came under heavy fire and were forced to retreat to higher ground.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer and his men launched a separate attack on the village of Lakota Sioux and Northern Cheyenne, which was led by Chief Sitting Bull. Custer divided his forces into three groups and engaged in a fierce battle. However, they were quickly overwhelmed by the overwhelming numbers and tactical superiority of the Native American forces.

The exact duration of Custer's part of the battle is uncertain, but it is generally believed to have been relatively short, lasting perhaps around 30 minutes to an hour before Custer and his immediate command were killed. Overall, the battle itself, including the initial engagements and subsequent fighting, lasted for a few hours on that fateful day.

how many men were lostChatGPT

During the Battle of Little Bighorn, also known as Custer's Last Stand, the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army suffered heavy losses. The exact number of casualties is a matter of historical debate, but it is generally estimated that around 268 to 276 men from the 7th Cavalry were killed during the battle. This included the entire detachment led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, who was among the casualties.

It's important to note that the casualty figures may vary among different sources, and there were conflicting reports and uncertainties surrounding the battle. Some sources indicate slightly higher or lower casualty numbers, but the range mentioned above is commonly accepted in historical accounts.

how many grave markers are in placeChatGPT

As an AI model, I don't have real-time information or access to current data. However, as of my last knowledge update in September 2021, there are multiple grave markers at the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Montana, which commemorates the Battle of Little Bighorn. The markers represent the soldiers and Native American warriors who lost their lives during the battle. The markers include individual headstones for fallen soldiers, as well as collective markers and monuments honoring different units and groups.

It's worth noting that the battlefield has undergone changes and developments over time, and new information or updates may have been made since my last knowledge update. To obtain the most accurate and up-to-date information on the number of grave markers in place, I recommend contacting the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument directly or referring to official sources.

How many Indians were lostChatGPT

The exact number of Native American casualties during the Battle of Little Bighorn is difficult to determine with precision. During the battle, a combined force of Lakota Sioux, Northern Cheyenne, and other Native American tribes fought against the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army. It's important to note that historical accounts and estimates regarding Native American casualties vary.

While specific figures are not available, it is generally believed that the Native American losses were fewer than those of the 7th Cavalry. Estimates suggest that Native American casualties could range from 30 to 100 warriors killed during the battle. However, it's worth noting that these numbers are approximations and subject to historical debate due to the challenges of accurate record-keeping during the time.

The Battle of Little Bighorn was a significant victory for the Native American forces, but it came at a cost for both sides, resulting in the loss of lives and deepening the historical complexity and impact of the event.

were the bodies mutilatedChatGPT

Yes, there are historical accounts and evidence that suggest that the bodies of some soldiers from the 7th Cavalry were mutilated by Native American warriors after the Battle of Little Bighorn. It is believed that some Native American warriors engaged in acts of mutilation and desecration as a way to demonstrate their prowess in battle, seek revenge, or send a message to the enemy.

Accounts from both Native American and U.S. Army sources describe instances of scalping, dismemberment, and other forms of mutilation being inflicted upon the bodies of fallen soldiers. These acts were not uncommon in conflicts during that era, and they were often driven by cultural and historical factors.

It's important to recognize that war and its aftermath can be brutal and involve acts that are considered disturbing and gruesome. The mutilation of bodies was a regrettable aspect of the Battle of Little Bighorn and is documented in historical records and accounts of the time.

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