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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

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okay but. imagine cowboy!reader is actually very educated. pro-LGBTQ, pro-choice, BLM, acab. very big speaker and doesn't take shit. BUT everyone thinks he isn't gonna educated and such until they're on a case dealing with like a trans kid and he's the first one to step up and comfort the kid and such. man im in the rabbit hole.

Allergies (Not Really)

No no no no no but the way I've started one where something of this theme happens (I don't want to give too much away aha)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: transphobia, sad reader :( (i teared up a little ngl - it's not sad, he's just sad), guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck

Also I just want to say that the relationship between Mia and (Y/N) is completely platonic, maybe familial (a bit older brother-y or fatherly) not anything else. Just because I'm panicking because they spend a lot of time joking about and I wanna make that clear.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax

Your blood boils when you hear the case, an unsub has been targeting young families (parents and three kids all under the age of sixteen). The last family had a survivor, a twelve-year-old transgender girl named Mia, who was currently in the hospital being treated for a variety of injuries.

Your jaw clenches as you read the hospital report, whilst it wasn't too long (thankfully), you knew she would still have a lot to work through mentally.

"You alright over there, Eastwood?" Morgan asks.

"Just angers me, is all," You answer, not feeling the need to elaborate, feeling the source of your anger being fairly self-explanatory. You miss the concerned look Rossi and Hotch share.

A few hours later, the jet landed, once everyone was situated at the police station, you turned to the team.

"I'm gonna head to the hospital, make sure Mia's okay," You said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi’s the one that says it, but you can see everyone's thinking the same thing.

"Wha- Why wouldn't it be?... Oh I see," You say as the penny finally drops and it clicks, "Y'all think 'cause I'm from the South I'm against her bein' herself?" You sigh softly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Have I not proved myself yet?"

No one says anything for a moment, shocked by the hurt that flashes in your eyes, before they can, you pick your hat back up, settling it on your head, "I'm headin' to the hospital,” You mumble, leaving the room before anyone can say anything.

When you leave the room, you rub your eyes with the back of your hand. 'Not crying,' You try and convince yourself, 'allergies.' You trying to ignore the fact you know, 100%, that you don't have any allergies.

You get into one of the SUV's and begin making your way to the hospital, ignoring your phone as it lit up with various concerned messages.

The receptionist was a nice woman and was quick to show you to Mia's room (after staring at you hungrily for a few minutes). You gave a small knock before walking in.

"Are you here to tell me I'm too young to know myself as well?"

You furrow your eyebrows, "No, who told you that?"

"One of the nurses," She answers with a shrug.

"You know which one?"

"The guy with brown hair," She shrugs as she answers, "It's fine though, happens all the time."

"I personally don't think y'all are too young to realise who you are," You said with a shrug, "I think anyone who thinks that is trynna hide their bias by invalidatin' your identity."

Mia looks at you for a moment, "I like you." She states, "I thought you were going to be against it."

"I've been gettin' that a lot today, it would seem," You mumble before your head snaps to the door, relaxing when it's just JJ. "Anyway, I'm (Y/N), this is my colleague, Agent Jareau. Mia, you a'right if we ask you a few questions?"

"Sure,"

"Could you run us through what happened that night?"

"Mum and dad were cooking. We were all sitting at the table doing our homework, and someone knocked on the door." Mia began, "They asked me to open the door, and he grabbed me and put a gun to my head. He shot my dad, then-"

You gave her a small, encouraging smile, "You're doin' great,"

"Did you get a look at the person that did this?" JJ asked, when Mia nodded, she continued, "What did they look like?"

Your eyes widen in worry as the heart machine next to Mia picks up, as does her breathing. You pull yourself together and turn your attention to her, "Mia? Mia, hey," Your voice is soft as you kneel next to her, "You need to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart,"

"Can't-"

You nod at her, "Yes, yes you can," You encourage, "Deep breaths, in, one, two, three, four, five, and out. That was good, keep going,"

It takes a moment, but her breathing evens out and she appeared to be less anxious, "There we go," You grin, "Told ya,"

"Okay, Texas," Your jaw drops slightly, the joke catching you off guard.

"That's not fair, I can't even say anythin' back without bullin' a child,"

"Ha ha." She responds, you throw your hands up in the air, smiling when she laughs at you.

JJ rolls her eyes slightly at you with a small smile as the doctor walks in with a few nurses for a routine checkup. Your eyebrows furrow when you see a male nurse with brown hair. Your eyes flick to the name badge, 'Darren', assuming this is the same nurse, you make a mental note of his name.

"We'll be just outside, a'right?"

Her hand shoots out, clinging onto your sleeve, "No! Don't leave!" She looks at you slightly hesitantly, "Please?"

"Hey, hey, it's a'right, I'll stay here," You answer, eyes flicking down to her for a moment before turning to JJ.

"Hotch wants me to go with Morgan to the scene," JJ said, "You good here? I'll let him know,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good here and thanks," You give a small smile.

When the doctor and nurses left, you turned to Mia, "That nurse you mentioned earlier? The brown-haired one? Was he in the room just now?"

Mia nodded, "Yeah,"

"Had a name badge on, name Darren?" Mia nodded once more. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment,"

"Where are you going?"

"I just want a quick word with this Darren fella," You shrug, seeing the look on Mia's face you roll your eyes slightly, "Don't you worry your little head about it, I'm not gonna hurt him or anythin'."

"Okay..." She said.

"Is that a'right?"

Mia shrugged, "Sure." You nodded before exiting the room.

Furrowing your eyes when you came face to face with Rossi, "Howdy, I'm just popping out for a few," You said.

Rossi nodded, walking into the room after you had left. "I'm Agent Rossi," He said, "I work with (Y/N),"

"The cowboy?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," Rossi huffs a small laugh as he sits in his seat. "Have the staff here been treating you okay?"

Mia shrugs, "Yeah," She answers, "There was one nurse but I think Texas has gone to sort him out or something. He might beat him up."

Rossi smiles slightly, "Texas?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," She said, "I think he's frustrated that everyone keeps assuming he's going to be against me being trans... I'd be frustrated too, I think," She added after a moment's thought.

You leave Mia, now feeling slightly better that Rossi will be there whilst you're gone. Spotting your target, you speed up.

"Excuse me! Nurse?" The man turns towards you, Darren. "I just wanted to have a word with you about Mia?"

You watch as Darren shifts uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say that perhaps telling someone they're too young to understand 'emselves probably doesn't make 'em feel a whole lotta good about 'emselves."

Darren looks you up and down slightly as he takes a few steps towards you. "And what exactly do you know?" He scoffs, "I'm surprised a redneck such as yourself can read and write."

"That's some nice deflection there," You said sarcastically, trying not to let it show how much the stereotypes flung into your face hurt. "Just... don't be a dick. If you don't understand somethin', look it up. I'm sure you can read. So perhaps do your research before you project onto a twelve year old girl." With that, you give a forced smile before turning on your heels and head back to Mia's room.

"Welp, that outta have done it," You give a lopsided grin, "A'right Rossi?"

"I'm fine Kid, you okay?"

"Yes sir," You answered, "I might grab myself a drink, y'all want anything?"

Mia laughs, "Y'all?"

"Rossi, Imma need your assistance, I'm getting bullied by a twelve year old,"

"Sorry, Kiddo, can't help you there." He chuckled, "I will ask that you grab me a coffee though."

"Coming right up!"

Hours later, she's sat up on the bed whilst you're sat on a chair (a rather uncomfortable one) next to the bed, Rossi having left an hour ago, both of your gazes focused on a small, empty glass bottle that stood on the overbed tables. Each armed with a small piece of string as a makeshift lasso.

"You're not a very good cowboy, are you?" Mia observes as you miss once more.

"Hey, I haven't done this in a while,"

"How longs a while? Never?" She asked, throwing the lasso perfectly once more.

"I'll have you know its been, okay so it's been like ten years, a'right? You were two last time I had to lasso something,"

"Wow, you're old."

"I had no idea twelve year olds were so mean, you're about to make a grown man cry,"

Mia gave a laugh, you quickly joining in. You flung the lasso half-heartedly, eyes widening as it hit its target perfectly. "Yeehaw!"

"Yeehaw? Seriously? You're so lame." You jaw dropped once more. You both jumped as gunshots echoed throughout the hospital, you sat up straight, immediately turning to Mia.

"Mia, I need you to take this," You handed your phone over to her, "The pass code is 1999, okay? You need to phone Hotch. Lock the door behind me, go into the bathroom and lock that door too, okay?"

Mia looked up at you with wide, scared eyes, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be absolutely fine, a'right?" When she nodded, you gave her a smile, "Don't open this door until I tell you to, or Hotch phones and says to okay?"

You shut the door, not moving until you heard it lock in place. When you heard the soft click, you nodded to yourself as you began to make your way towards sound.

Seeing a nurse, you jogged up to her, "Ma'am, try and get everyone into their rooms, tell them not to come out, okay?" The nurse nods and runs off. You continue cautiously towards the sound of gunshots, revolver clutched in your hands.

When you find him, he's holding a person close to his chest, what with that and the people running past you, you don't have a clear shot. You meeting eyes with the wide yes of the hostage against his chest, you look at her, giving a small nod as you inch closer.

When the moment's right, she ducks her head, pulls her elbow back, before slamming it into the guy's ribs. As he curls over, she wiggles out of her grasp, joining the others in fleeing. With a sigh, you brace yourself before charging at the man, tackling him to the floor.

It takes a moment for the unsub to recover, in that time you've delivered a few blows to his face, both of your guns falling during the tackle. He's quick to flip you over, he aims for the torso first, delivering a handful of well-aimed punches. Next, he takes a fist of your hair, slamming your head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before you get the momentum needed to push him off you.

You staggered up, paying no mind to the pain in your head throbbing in beat with your pulse, the blood on the side of you head that's slowly dripping into your eye, or the ache that's spread through your abdomen. You had to either distract this guy until the team got here or knock him out. Either way, you weren't about to let yourself pass out and let this bastard hurt Mia.

As you're breathing deeply through the pain, the unsub has stood, he (however) is not as chivalrous, so he takes the moment make his way over to you. He grabs your shoulders as he pulls his knee to your groin, pushing you to the floor as you double over in pain. Happy with having the advantage, he continues to aim cheap blows to your sides.

Despite this, you stumble up once more, you keeping your left arm wrapped close to your ribs on your right. They were definitely bruised as a minimum. You duck the punch sent your way, wincing slightly as it pulls on your arm and ribs. Both of your eyes lock on the gun at the same time as the pair of you dive for it. He reaches it first, gripping it tightly in his hands as you immediately go for it, to loosen his grip, anything you can think of.

There's a bang and you grunt as a bullet enters the top of your left arm, adding insult to injury. Okay, so disarming him didn't really work.

"FBI!" You sigh in relief as the unsub is pulled away from you, letting your head fall against the cold floor with your eyes closed - trying to get a grip on the pain. You listen as they cuff the bastard before dragging him out of the hospital. You let your eyes flutter open as you begin to push yourself off of the floor.

"I'm fine," You mumbled, shrugging Hotch's hands off you, "I'm fine, check on Mia."

"Morgan, stay with (Y/N)."

When Hotch is gone, you turn to Morgan, "I'm fine, go help Hotch."

"Sorry, got my order," Morgan said with a shrug. You don't answer, as much as you don't want to admit it, the pain was really starting you affect your headspace. You felt like you couldn't think. "Come on, let's get you checked out."

You shook your head, "No, I need to check on Mia first," You mumbled, giving a low groan as you pushed yourself up.

"Alright, lead the way," Morgan said. You don't answer, simply forcing one foot in front of the other until you're back at Mia's room.

"Is he okay?!" You hear Mia's question through the door.

"He's okay," You hear Hotch reassuring her.

"Then where is he?! He said he'd be here as soon as he could!" Mia's panic causes your eyebrows to furrow, "Oh god, he's dead, isn't he?"

You push the door open, trying to look as put together as possible for Mia, not wanting her to panic. "I'm very much alive, thank you very much," You say.

"I thought he killed you!" She exclaims, rushing towards you. You groan when Mia flings her arms around you, burying her head in your chest and she immediately steps back, seeing the blood her eyes widen. "Holy shit he shot you?!"

"Hey, language,"

"Sorry Texas," She grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Texas?" Morgan grins, "Oh, that is so sticking around,"

You groan slightly, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

You turn to Mia, "Thanks kid," You say sarcastically.

"No problem, old man." Your jaw drops once more.

"I don't know if my ego can take all these insults,"

"I don't know what y'all are talkin' about I would never do such a thing to y'all," She says, trying her best to do an impersonation, giggling slightly at the look of disbelief on your face.

"That- Now that was just a bridge too far-" You barely get the sentence out before you're huffing a laugh (and then wincing because of said laugh).

"Alright, come on, Texas," Derek smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Let's go get you checked out."

You weren’t too injured (thankfully), minus the bullet wound, it was mostly just bruises. Eventually, you were all stitched up and laid in a hospital bed - which you hated, but Hotch had glared at you when you went to protest.

A soft knock echoed through the door before it opened, a blonde woman poking her head round. You frowned slightly, not recognising her.

"Hi, I'm Mia's aunt," The woman says and you straighten up (ignoring the discomfort).

"Ma'am," You said with a nod.

"I just wanted to say thank you,"

"What for?" You furrowed your eyebrows as she raised hers, motioning to your current state. "Ma'am I was just doing my job."

"Well, either way, thank you."

You give a small smile, "No worries, Ma'am."

“I’m going to be her guardian now that-” Mia’s aunt paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before she continued, “After everything and I really appreciate what you did for her.”

You give her a small smile, “Of course, Ma’am.”

She gives you one last smile as she leaves the room, “Oh, agent?” You look at her, “Is it alright if I bring Mia in? We’re about to head off and she wanted to say goodbye.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, of course,”

When the door closes, you push yourself the best you can, the door opens a few minutes later and Mia walks in.

“How y’all healin’?”

“First, I wouldn’t say y’all if it’s just one person,” You said, rolling your eyes, “Second, I’m doin’ a’right,”

“You missed like seven letters in that sentence,” She laughs, you huff a small laugh, forcing a wince down.

“It’s an art form,” You reply. "Your aunt seems nice,"

“She is, I’m going to live with her,” Mia says, smiling, “She lives in California. I can’t wait, apparently my uncle’s been getting a room ready for me,”

“That’s great,” You smiled. "How are you feeling in yourself?"

"I'm okay," Mia said with a shrug, "I know it's going to be a while until I'm back to one hundred percent, but I'm willing to put in the work."

"Smart kid," You said, "You'll be okay."

"Oh, Aunty Meg you should have been there earlier! Texas was all like 'how are y'all doin'?' And he made lassos but he was absolutely useless with one and the last time he used one was when I was two and…"

Mia's voice faded as you looked at the hat on the table for a moment, lightly taking it in your own hands, brushing over the material lightly with the pad of your thumb. It was one of your favourite hats. You looked up, seeing the grin on Mia's face as she did her best cowboy impressions, you smiled. "Hey, I think you'll find, every southerner - impersonator or not - needs their very own hat," You said, reaching over to place it on her head. "Perfect, a true southerner!"

"Well I'll be damned!" Mia exclaimed, tilting the hat slightly.

"Come on, we need to make a move," Mia's aunt said. "I think Uncle Jack's getting restless waiting for us,"

Mia nodded, reaching up and taking the hat off before handing it over to you. You shook your head.

"Nah, you keep it kiddo, I've got hundreds." You give her a smile.

Mia walked forward, clinging onto you as she buried her head in your chest, you ignored the dull ache that flared up in your chest as you hugged her back, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, kiddo," You say, lifting one hand to wipe at your eyes.

"Are you crying?" Mia asked softly.

"No." You answered, "I've got allergies."

You wait for Mia to let go before you do, you gave her a small smile, "See you later, a'right?" She nodded, quickly wiping her eyes.

"See you later Texas,"

The door shut quietly behind the two of them and you were enveloped once more in silence.

Whilst everyone was wrapping up the case, you were sitting in a hospital bed, bored out of your skull. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, sneaking past the nurses and doctors as you made your way outside, wanting some fresh air.

You sat yourself down opposite the hospital in the grass, letting yourself pluck a blade of grass from the ground, running it through your fingers as you lost yourself in your thoughts.

You kept your eyes trained on the grass as Hotch sat down next to you. The pair of you sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“‘M fine, sir,” The answer rolls off your tongue. “Nothing to worry about,”

“If you want to get something off your chest, you can always talk to me,”

“I know, Hotch,” You said, “I just… struggle with the whole talkin’ about how you’re feelin’,”

Hotch nods in understanding, for someone who doesn’t talk about it, you sure do end up giving a lot away. You both sit in silence.

"I know people think I'm stupid," You mumble, staring intently at the blade of grass between your fingers as you spoke, "I know I have that Southern drawl," You exaggerate your accent slightly before continuing, "That I don't exactly talk like y'all. I know some just see me as some redneck, but I can hold my own. I ain't stupid. And I certainly ain't no bigot."

"I know, we all know that." Hotch replies.

"But you didn't." You pointed out before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter..."

"We were concerned because there was no way could have known."

"You could've just trusted me," You said, “I have, in no way, given any of y’all a reason to believe that I am against anyone in that community. And I get it, I do, it just… stings, is all.”

Hotch doesn’t speak, unsure of what to actually say. Because he did jump to conclusions, they all did.

"I think if she didn't have any family I would have adopted her, or at least tried to, anway," Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze deepening at the blade of grass as you tore it apart in your hands. "But, hey, she's happy, that's the main thing and her aunt seems like a lovely woman."

With that, you push yourself off of the grass, ignoring the ache that shoots through your body. Leaving Hotch sat on the curb with a frown as you limped back into the hospital for one final check-up before your flight.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Fuckin’ allergies.”

#cowboy reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #bau x male reader #bau x reader #bau x cowboy reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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metamatar · 10 days

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October 10, 2022

Amit Kumar had everything going for him. After graduating in engineering and landing a decent job, Amit wanted to settle down with his childhood sweetheart Renu. The couple had known each other since Class IX and dreamt of a life together. The only difficulty was that Renu belonged to a Brahmin family and Amit was a Dalit.

With their homes barely a kilometre apart in Garhwa district of Jharkhand, Renu knew her family would never approve of the match. The couple decided to run away and tie the knot in another State. And thus began their tale of unending harassment and tragedy.

The couple married at a temple in Dehradun and got their marriage registered there. They had just about settled down at Paonta Sahib in Himachal Pradesh when, in a midnight raid, the Uttar Pradesh police took away Renu, claiming that she had been abducted. Amit and Renu have not seen or spoken to each other since that fateful night of August 13, 2021.

Amit’s life has been a quagmire of legal battles and dismissed habeas corpus petitions since then. “I fear my wife is no more,” he told The Hindu.

Activists say such tragic situations can be avoided if couples like Amit and Renu are provided safe houses and special protection by the State governments as mandated by the Supreme Court.

According to data from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), the number of “honour killings” in the country was 24, 25 and 33 in 2019, 2020 and 2021, respectively. Punjab, Madhya Pradesh and Jharkhand topped the list in 2021 and 2020, while Manipur was on top in 2019.

The government in 2021 informed Parliament that there were 145 “honour killing” incidents in the country between 2017 and 2019.

Interestingly, though the NCRB report attributed only 25 deaths to “honour killings” in 2020, it said there were 27 deaths due to casteism and 1,558 due to “illicit relationship”. Similarly, in 2021, 33 deaths were listed under “honour killings”, but 1,544 and 1,532 under “illicit relationship” and “love affairs”, respectively.

So far, only Delhi, Haryana and Punjab have safe houses for inter-faith and inter-religious couples. Kerala has only announced the setting up of a safe house.

In fact, only 21 States have said that they have complied with the Supreme Court directives, which means that they have asked the police officers concerned of a State for strict compliance, according to Dhanak for Humanity, a non-governmental organisation which works with such couples, helping them solemnise their marriages and providing legal support.

The Supreme Court had in 2018 directed that safe houses be set up in every district as well as a special cell in States for couples facing opposition from families and community.

Gaurav Yadav, an engineer from IIT Chennai, said he was working with survivors of “honour crimes” and couples who are in hiding to petition the government for more safe houses across the country.

“Soon we will form an official grouping and petition the government to follow the Supreme Court directives on safe houses and special cells,” Mr. Yadav said, adding that he had organised a convention regarding the same in Delhi recently.

He said though couples had been demanding that safe houses be set up, the State administrations had looked the other way.

An example is of Ravikant Chandrawanshi and Alisha, who had a harrowing time getting married under the Special Marriage Act in Chhattisgarh.

The inter-faith couple at first decided to elope and marry in Bilaspur. However, a lack of support system and security, including finances, saw them return home in Kawardha within four days.

“As my wife’s family were well to do and politically connected, they kept up the pressure on us. Finally, we had to take legal recourse and approached the High Court asking them to direct the State administration to provide the mandated safe house and police protection.

“However, we were informed that there was no safe house and Alisha had to go to a sakhi centre or a women’s safe house,” Mr. Chandravanshi said.

Though the couple approached the highest of authorities, they were not given any police protection either and had to go into hiding for around six months after their marriage.

According to Asif Iqbal of Dhanak for Humanity, most States send the girl to a Nari Niketan after couples approach them. “It is here that the girl is the most insecure as her family mostly approaches her and puts pressure to go back. Many a time, this also leads to what is known as honour killing of the girl”.

Sanjay Sachadev of Love Commandoes, an organisation which rescues and shelters such couples, said, “The need of the hour is safe houses across the country. In almost every case, the police try and send the girl to a women’s shelter and the boy is left to fend for himself.”

A couple who are staying in a Delhi safe house and did not wish to be identified said that they could not have thought of living together had it not been for the security of the safe house.

Mr. Iqbal, whose organisation has helped many couples seek legal recourse to stay together and get married, said that of the distress calls he receives, the most were from Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra and Rajasthan.

#special marriage act #caste

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dostoyevsky-official · 20 days

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Letter from Professor James Schamus

As Columbia survivors of last fall’s International Day of Jihad (sic), a not-surprisingly quite effective disinformation campaign, we still shouldn’t dismiss credible accounts of genuinely anti-semitic incidents on the rise, here and elsewhere. They deserve condemnation – as does the manufactured hysteria around them, weaponized in the movement to quell legitimate political speech on campus and elsewhere, mainly through the conflation of criticism of Israel with anti-semitism itself. Let’s start with Rav Elie Beuchler, described in much of the recent massive press coverage of the terrors awaiting us Jews at Columbia as the “Columbia Rabbi” who sent an email to a few hundred students yesterday telling them to go home “as soon as possible” in fear for their lives and safety. One thing Beuchler is not, in fact, is the Columbia/Barnard Hillel campus rabbi; rather he is on the staff of the Orthodox Union-Jewish Institute for Leaning on Campus, run as a wing of the Orthodox Union. To get a sense of the political mission of the OU-JILC, consider its Founding Director, Menachem Schrader, whose biography on the organization’s website attests he “has been community rabbi of Moshav Carmel in the Judean Hills and of Congregation Tiferet Avot in Efrat.” Carmel and Efrat are – and you can probably guess where this is going – illegal Israeli settlements located in the Occupied West Bank, centers of the Amana movement, the radical settlement arm of the violent, racist Gush Emunim. Amana was founded and led for decades by Ze’ev Hever, a Jewish supremacist terrorist who spent 11 months in jail for a Jewish Underground bombing plot before becoming a major establishment figure in the settlement movement. (Ironically, after his own car was vandalized in a violent “Price Tag” settler vigilante action in 2012, Hever himself, at least publicly, called for a reduction in settler rampages – one needn’t wonder whether his fanatical acolytes heeded that call.) The OU-JILC actually brands itself as the “Heshe and Harriet Sief OU-JILC,” named, one assumes, after its major benefactors. Heshe and Harriet Sief, who are also major donors to Yeshivat Har-Etzion , which is located – you guessed it – in the Etzion bloc of settlements. It should be noted that funding for the Initiative, as with the Union itself, is opaque – the Union itself, given its prominent political activities, has been decried in Jewish philanthropy circles for its lack of transparency). The Initiative has planted itself on thirty or so campuses in the United States, and has been welcomed into spaces controlled by International Hillel, which has become increasingly reactionary in its policing of Jewish students’ speech around Israel and Palestine. That policing now threatens to engulf the University as a whole. Action based on genuine concern for the well-being and safety of our Jewish students and colleagues should be founded on the defense of the very principles and norms being assaulted by those hijacking that concern to give cover to the larger project of ethnic cleansing and settlement in the West Bank and, now, of course, Gaza.

a letter on the rabbi who said campus isn't safe and jewish students should stay home. yet again it should be noted that some of the students leading the protests are antizionist jews, and that columbia suspended the student jewish voices for peace organization several months ago, for which they are facing an ACLU lawsuit

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vaaaaaiolet · 2 months

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September 30th, 1998. Your world ended with Leon's death, or so you thought.

Or alternatively, how you spent two decades of your life tied to a man full of secrets who can't love you how you want him to.

gn / m, angst and hurt / comfort, mild smut, eventual happy ending, for the love of god someone give leon and reader both a hug :(

read this to 1999 by beabadoobee for optimal results

word count: 1809 // read on ao3

this work is inspired by @uhlunaro's "a tale of grief in 10 parts" :) please check out their work, it's absolutely amazing!

He would return in one piece. That was the most you could have hoped for when you gawked at the evening news, swaddled in your robe like some useless overgrown baby as a TV reporter boredly announced that your boyfriend had died.

Oopsy! Blown to bits like Lego bricks! The Raccoon City building set, discontinued forever.

Grief shot through your chest like the explosions peppering your television screen the more you watched. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You’d actually gotten down on the floor and pressed your face to the display, hoping to catch a glimpse of blond hair on the live feed, searching until the news bulletin hit your head shotgun-style. No reported survivors.

No survivors.

There was no Leon S. Kennedy escaping the rubble. Nobody to come home and wisecrack that he was right about cops and their dependence on donuts. No one to make dinner for. Something had to be done about his favorite steak browning cheerfully in the oven as the world burned around you.

Had it burned for him too? You sat in his chair at the head of the kitchen table and shoveled steak into your mouth in a numb rage, peeking at char marks through the fork tines. They were black, burnt to a crisp, inciner-

You spent the rest of the night emptying your stomach into the toilet. The landline laid lifeless.

Leon’s world had ended in a flash; yours in flushes as you poured your heart into the plumbing. Hell, it didn’t even stay there, floating stubbornly to the top as your choked toilet spewed water and you sat and sobbed.

Months later, Leon came home for a week. A week you hadn’t been selfish enough to plead the heavens for (instead you’d sobbed, prayed for glimpses of him in strangers) but a gift horse of a week nonetheless.

The breath rushed out of your lungs every time he rounded a corner in the house, soundless as a ghost. It terrified Leon even more than it did you. He was scared. Leon wouldn’t tell you of what though, and you wasted the better part of the week wondering. Diagnosing him like the doctors on endless TV shows you’d whiled away your time to while he was dead. None of your guesses really scratched the surface of his fears; he just wished you’d stop asking.

Leon told you in the final hour of his last day home. Powder blue eyes committed every inch of you to memory when he kissed you slow and honey-sweet underneath sheets that had laid cold for far too long. In between his calloused hands, you bloomed to life.

He’d gasped as his lips trailed up the column of your throat, “I’m- ah, I’m so sorry…”

You hadn’t the foggiest idea of what he was apologizing for. All you cared was that he was here now, he was home. That was all you’d wanted, right? You didn’t even let him finish, surging up and planting your lips on his so that he’d have to swallow his sorry’s right back, smoothing his brow with your thumb when it furrowed in the dark. For now, Leon drank in every bit of your love that he could stomach.

Leon took you to the heavens you’d once prayed to, all while you dragged your nails down the cracked melamine skin of his back.

And then he told you that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. As far as the United States government was concerned, Christmas (or any other holiday really) wasn’t grounds for him leaving his new, top secret “work”. Dangerous, life-threatening work that he made you promise not to worry over. Leon’s spare police uniform watched forlornly from his dust-ridden side of the closet as he laid bare any information he was cleared to – barely anything. You’d torn off your silver necklace and stamped a kiss to the cold metal to wrap it around his shaking wrist. Anything to give him a reason to mutiny, to come running back.

So in December of 1999, you stopped going to your support group for fallen police officers. You spent Christmas mourning a man whose life became a secret for you alone to keep.

A letter strewn on your front porch: the summer of ‘04.

It won’t be easy. He is stronger than you think.

The lipstick kiss at the bottom matched the red of the ink in Leon’s letter to you from Spain. You don’t get another until his writing in it begins to fade, but that lipstick, miraculously, never does.

The next time Leon came back, it was for even shorter. Three days to make up for the six years he’d left you to pick up the pieces he promised not to break you into. You almost hadn’t recognized him in the doorway because gone were those bright blue eyes and cheeks that made him grumble when you pinched them; this Leon’s features were tailor-made. Cut to perfection, built to last. He lifted you into the air with the same breath he whispered hello with.

There was little to do except ravage each other, to put it lightly. You scavenged for answers in the seams of his scars; Leon looked for love in the lines of your forehead.

He kissed you like he had something to prove.

He wiped the tears that bubbled down your cheeks as you fought to fit him inside, cause your world had shrunk that much since he’d been gone.

He shaped the explosions that galvanized him into fireworks that wrenched every inch of resistance out of your core so he could introduce you to the living he’s made. This is for the man who gave me my first knife. This is how I learned to forget you during the day and ask the moon about you at night.

With each drop of your ambrosia sweat, Leon tore you apart and built you back again.

I’m begging you. Look at me love you.

But you? You begged for more than he could give you. You had more questions than the kiss-stamped note could provide answers to, especially when you spilled a box of his letters over the kitchen table, each one spaced more apart than the last. Clocks these days only read T-minus X hours until Leon’s next departure to Who Knows Where for God Knows How Long.

“You won’t tell me anything, Leon,” you choked at the table while he sat there and took it all like he was trained to. “Anything I ask, it’s all a secret. When are you going to tell me something?”

His voice was quiet, unbreakable. “I told you everything I could.”

“Really?” The kiss at the top of the pile shone like a scarlet A and you pointed at it, voice shaking. “Who’s this from, then?”

“No one, sweetheart, I just worked with her sometimes. I’ve only run into her twice.”

“You can’t tell me anything about your life but she knows where we- where I live?”

Leon’s resolution faltered at your slip. “It’s not tha-”

“You didn’t write after she sent me that, you know? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be lonely for years? You,” the long-brewing poison crawled steadily up your throat, “I don’t even think I know you anymore. You visit less and less and even when you’re here, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours! I don’t know you!”

“Good!” Leon exploded. “Cause damn it, I don’t even know who I am!”

The silence that followed was worse, the absence of explanation weighing heavier than any answer could.

He muttered something about being late and rushed to the bathroom, leaving you in the middle of your fallen epistolary halo on the floor. The pipes wailed as you heard the shower turn on.

T-minus 1 hour.

A horrible, wretched sound crept into your ear. The sound of something prized being torn loose from a dark place.

It was the first time you’d heard Leon cry.

Your brand new TV had started buffering not even a week after buying it. Hitting it with a spatula worked just as well as adjusting the HDMI cables did: it didn’t. At least your old bunny-ears TV had enough definition so you could make out the moving shapes, HD or not.

Seconds away from you kicking the useless contraption, the TV flickered back to life and showed you Pittsburgh, plain as day. A news bulletin. The Carnegie Museum of Art had blown up in a freak accident, the reporter fretted, and the FBI were being deployed to investigate.

A familiar head of sandy hair looked up at the aerial camera. Silver glittered on his wrist as Leon tapped his earpiece – one two three – and rubbed his fist in a tight circle over his chest.

For old time’s sake. To ease the weight sitting there.

Your last name went unchanged for the next five years. You didn’t know he was keeping track.

June dawned sweet and heavy on your windowsill. The house you’d kept for 17 years welcomed Leon back with open arms. There was something to be said for consistency with the way you floated into his embrace the second he crossed your threshold.

Wrinkles etched into his brow, smile lines on your face. It was everything he worked for.

You watched him in the wee hours of the morning when he brewed coffee, regular as if he’d done it all his life, and sat at his old spot by the window. He didn’t tell you how long he’d be here this time. If loving Leon for all these years taught you something, it was to make the most of the little you had. You’d had time to ration your grievances, cremating them into ashes and letting them scatter with the rolling tide.

“Hey.” He’d spotted you in the corner of the kitchen.

“Hey yourself.”

Leon grinned and handed you a cup of tea. He’d remembered your favorite.

“Leon.” you turned to him.

“Hm?”

“I want to make one last rule for when you’re here. No more saying sorry.”

The sight of his raised brow in the window's reflection made laughter flutter in your chest.

“Might I ask why? I’ve had a lot of practice with you over the years, you know.” Leon quipped, his words bittersweet. It was the familiar tang of regret: tying you to him while he’d been thrown at the government’s every whim.

You were no stranger to the taste. “Because I want us to stop wasting time.”

“Honey, time’s all we’ve ever had.”

“Exactly.”

You smoothed a chestnut brown lock behind his ear, smiling. Leon kissed the back of your hand – his grateful answer.

Closure instead of sex, love without expectation.

His heart beats for you in both worlds. Here with you and wherever he goes.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #no hate to my girl ada i love her #vivisaidso on ao3 #vaaaaaiolet

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

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Warning: Discourse incoming.

I told myself I’d never get involved in these kinds of discussion because I’m a firm believer in “You do you/No Kink shaming etc.” But this one is a fairly serious one. It’s long, I’m not putting a cut in there, but please just hear me out.

There’s a disturbing trend in some fic writing I’ve noticed lately, and I have to say something about it.

We all know I’m a sucker for dark fics, be it CNC, dubcon, even non-con and horror elements, so I’m not here trying to tone/content police people’s writing. I want to make it very clear that this is not about vilifying people who write dark stuff, or things I’m not into. Hell, if I don’t want to read something, I check the tags and warnings and nope out before I get the ick. (As everyone should, there’s no point getting yourself wound up or triggered by content you can just simply scroll by.)

However, this is where my current concern comes in.

I’ve seen lots of very prominent writers not giving adequate warnings or disclaimers about the content they write.

I’ve come across a lot of content where Joel (sorry buddy you’re the worst offender here, Ilu tho) is being labelled as a dom – and even more worryingly labelled as a soft dom – when the relationship is not about safe dom/sub relationships/kink.

If Joel is spanking you so hard you can’t sit down in lieu of “teaching you a lesson” when there’s clear lack of enthusiastic consent (or often any consent at all) this is not s/m, this is abuse.

If you’re having your readers receive physical or sexual punishment for actual life slip ups/non-role play scenarios, you’re glorifying abuse.

If you’re not labelling your fics correctly, you’re being negligent to your readers, and this should be a safe space for us all to read and create without being unduly triggered because we had inadequate or no forewarning.

For example:

Javi P kisses a girl, you make him pay for it in a way that is clearly pre-established (you have to spell it out people) as consensual in your relationship? Kink.

Joel spanking the shit out of you because a man flirted with you in a bar? Abuse.

Din edging you until you cry because you were competing in how much you could make the other jealous in a pre-agreed dynamic? Kink.

Joel denying you sex, or fucking you without prep/making you cum because you did something to annoy him/he doesn’t agree with and you aren’t enjoying yourself? Abuse.

I thought we were over this with the discourse that came about around 50 Shades, but clearly not. So please, tag your fics with appropriate/adequate warnings. As a survivor of sexual abuse and grooming, I need to know if your fic is going to contain and/or glorify these things. Again, I’m not saying don’t write these things, but it is your responsibility to tag adequately.

It’s a simple concept that I see applied across the board with age gaps and power dynamics, and most of the time people get it right. But when posts with 1k+ interactions are explicitly abusive, with no warnings other than S/M dynamics or “soft dom!Joel” when it’s anything but soft, aren’t just triggering to some, they’re harmful.

You can’t have a healthy relationship with Joel (again sorry buddy) if that relationship contains thinly veiled or brazen abusive elements.

If you don’t know the difference between coercive behaviour, sexual or physical abuse, and safe, consensual kink, you need to educate yourself for your own benefit, and that of your readers.

Feel free to reach out to chat with me about this, I’m not here to run and gun, but I will not tolerate any form of abuse or unkindness (on either side of the aisle) here.

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

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Fend For Your Life

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: plane crash angst, everyone on board is dead but you, survivor's guilt, sewing yourself up painfully

Request by anon: Can I please request Jennifer Jareau x reader. Reader is sent on an important undercover mission, so when her helicopter 'crashes' in the middle of nowhere and she is stranded on an island for months on end. Jj (her wife) and the team are going out of their way to find her. (Once reader returns from the island, she isn't the same as before she left. Little things scare her, etc.she also leaves the bau)

Summary: You're going on a solo mission with two SWAT members to save victims you don't know are alive in a country you've never been to before while the rest of the team searches for the unsub. JJ, your wife, eagerly waits for your arrival back home... but that never comes.

Square Filled: rescue mission for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is the biggest mission you’ve ever been on while at the BAU. The unsub is kidnapping young women in Florida and taking them to a remote location somewhere in Cuba. Your mission is to go to Cuba and rescue the victims (however many that may be) and bring them back home. You’ll be going with two SWAT members while the rest of the BAU works to hunt the unsub down before he snatches another girl.

Your team profiled that the unsub is in Florida right now based on the airport traffic. You’d given the sketch to all airports in Florida, and one of them stated that someone like that came through not that long ago. It’ll take you an hour to get to Havana where you believe the unsub is holding his victims, and you’re only going on a rescue mission so you don’t need other agents with you. Plus, you’d have two SWAT members with you, so you’ll be okay.

“Someone should go with you,” JJ says as you prepare for the flight.

“Baby, you know we need everyone on the ground here. This unsub is smart. The fewer agents we have trying to get him, he could get away. I’ll be fine.”

JJ bites her lower lip in concern, and you prepare to walk over to her. You reach up and remove her lip from between her teeth. She sighs heavily and looks you in the eyes.

“You know I worry.”

“JJ, my love, I will be okay. I’ll return home with however many hostages in no time. The flight is only an hour.” You pull your wife in for a kiss that will ease her concerns. She always feels better after one of your kisses. “Be strong. I will be okay.”

“Please be careful,” she whispers.

“I always am.”

She and Hotch escorts you to the plane that’s waiting for you where the pilot and the two SWAT members are.

“Remember, get the hostages and leave. We don’t know if this unsub has partners or not. We don’t know what’s happening over there.”

“Hotch, you’re gonna scare my wife,” you chuckle. “I will be fine. Just focus on getting the unsub. He’s here somewhere. I have faith in you.”

“Good luck,” Hotch nods and leaves you and JJ alone.

“Promise me we’re gonna take this weekend off and get a hotel or something.”

“I promise. You can pick whatever place you want. I gotta go. I love you.”

“I love you.”

You kiss her quickly and get on the plane. She waits until the door is closed before returning to Hotch who is in the car. As you said, the flight only takes an hour, and there is no issue with getting there. The Havana Police meet you at the airport and guide you to the location where they suspect the unsub has taken his victims. The run-down warehouse is located in a remote part of town where the only people that come here is to buy fish and make illegal deals for a multitude of things.

You’re the lead agent on this team so you’re responsible for what happens to every single person with you. The Havana Police wait outside while the two SWAT members go in first. They secure the room before allowing you inside, and you hold your gun out in front of you protectively. This place is big so you have to sweep it from left to right and not miss a single room.

There isn’t much artificial light that helps, so you have to rely on the natural light that seeps in through the high windows and cracks from the doors. This place is covered from head to toe with dust since this place hasn’t been used in a while. It used to be a booming warehouse that shipped and stocked high-grade fishing equipment for big ships, but ever since the company bought a bigger place closer to where the ports are, this place got shut down.

The first two rooms are used for storage that is too small to hold victims, and the next two are bone-dry with no furniture or anything inside. There are high shelves with equipment on them lining the middle of the big warehouse that you move through while keeping your ears on alert. Any little noise or movement will have you and the two SWAT members ready to attack.

You reach one of the back rooms that is locked which is weird since no one uses this warehouse anymore. The Havana Police say they’re in the process of emptying this place out but haven’t gotten time to remove everything yet.

“Can you get this open?” you whisper to the SWAT member who has a background in opening locks.

“Easy,” he whispers back.

You and the other SWAT member watch his back while he gets on his knees and works to unlock the door. It takes him only a minute which according to him, that’s his record. The same man grabs the doorknob and waits for your cue before opening it. You burst inside with your gun drawn just in case there is anyone inside that wants to attack you.

Instead of the unsub or a potential partner, there is a young woman in the middle of the room tied to a concrete pole. There are two other women lying on the ground but based on the smell they’re emitting, they’re dead and have been dead for a while. Still, you walk over to them and check for a pulse even though you know it’s pointless. Next, you move to the woman in the middle of the room and use your knife to cut her loose.

“Please help me,” she cries.

“My name is Agent Y/N with the FBI. You’re going to be okay. Your name is Elizabeth, right?”

“Yeah. He killed them,” she sobs. “He just let them die.”

“Okay, come on. Let’s get you home. Are you okay?” She nods, and you help her to her feet and bring her outside where the Havana Police are. “There are two more girls inside who are dead. I need to get her back to the States. My team will coordinate with you in bringing the other two back home so their families can claim them.”

“Of course,” the lead detective says.

To not disturb the plane’s navigation system, you wait until you’re in the air to call Hotch. The two SWAT members are relaxing, Elizabeth is trying to get some sleep, and you’re by yourself in the back. Everyone is waiting in the briefing room for you to call. They caught the unsub when he was trying to get to the harbor with another victim, so all they’re waiting for is for you to return.

“Go ahead, Y/N. You’re on speakerphone with everyone in the room,” Hotch says.

“I got the hostage, Elizabeth. The other two women were dead when I arrived. I told the detective that you’d coordinate with them to bring them home. I would have stayed, but Elizabeth needs a hospital.”

“I understand. We got the unsub. He’s in interrogation right now.”

“I got a hold of Elizabeth’s family. They should be on their way now,” JJ says. “By the time you get back, they’ll be here.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured. Don’t worry, JJ, I will make sure--”

Just like that, the line goes dead.

“Y/N? Are you there?” There is no answer. “What the hell happened?”

“Garcia, can you trace the call?”

Penelope gets on her laptop and tries to pinpoint your location but is unable to. It’s like the signal got lost in the middle of the ocean.

“Sir, I can’t find it.”

“What do you mean you can’t find it?” JJ panics.

“It means she’s in the middle of the ocean and there are no cell towers out there. I can’t pinpoint the location.”

“What the hell happened to her?”

What the hell did happen to you? You have to blink several times to get your vision to focus which is when you finally see the situation for what it is. Fire is all around you like an unwanted guest in your home. You look down and see both SWAT members dead on the ground, you try to look up and see the pilot is impaled on a branch sticking out of the base of the tree, and you look to your left to see Elizabeth still in her seat. However, her head is backward because her neck is broken.

“Oh, God,” you gasp.

Your plane went down. Something went wrong and it crashed into some island in the middle of nowhere. Why are you the only one that’s alive? How the hell are you gonna get home now? You look down and see a big metal shard from the plane stuck in your leg. The only way you’re going to survive is if you get out of this. It’s gonna hurt like hell but you have to do what you have to do.

You’re not that high above ground so you feel confident you can survive the fall to the ground. You unbuckle your seatbelt and fall to the ground on your ass. Pain erupts from the impact site but it’s nothing compared to the pain in your leg. The plane is broken up into dozens of pieces across a vast expanse of the jungle, and the first aid kit is located in one of those pieces.

If you remove the shard now, you can bleed out so you have to make sure you have the first aid kit with you before you do anything. You can’t put any pressure on your leg or else the shard will be forced out by the pressure, so you crawl over to the area where the first aid kit should be. Luck is on your side because you find it easily and you open it to see what you’re working with.

To prevent yourself from bleeding out, you remove one of your shoestrings so you can make a tourniquet. You tighten the shoestring so tight to cut off your blood supply to the area before yanking the shard out. You scream out in pain and reach into the first aid kit with shaky hands. There are needles and stitches since you thought it was a good idea to include those in first aid kits. You’re not the best when it comes to sewing but you try your best to close your wound.

You scream out in pain when the needle makes contact with your skin.

“Garcia, did you find anything?” JJ asks.

Penelope has not stopped looking for you and Hotch is on the phone with the Coast Guard. They might be able to help if they’d seen a plane go crashing down--if that’s what happened.

“I’m trying to find something I can use that--Wait! I found something. Reports are flooding in from a cruise ship that claims it saw a plane go crashing down in flames.”

“Oh, my God,” JJ whispers and lets her tears fall.

“Okay, I’ll be in touch,” Hotch says and hangs up. “Find that plane, Garcia.”

It hurt like a bitch but you managed to sew your skin together to keep your wound closed. Your hands and leg are covered in your blood, but no new blood has seeped out of your wound. Before you wrap the wound in gauze, you need to clean the wound. There isn’t much when it comes to cleaning solutions but there is a small stream of water close to where the plane crashed.

If you couldn’t put weight on your leg before, you certainly can’t do it now. You scoot along the ground over to where the stream is with the gauze in hand. This is a fresh water stream so it doesn’t burn when you clean your leg and wound. Once done, you place the gauze around your leg to prevent bugs and dirt from getting into the wound and infecting it. If you don’t receive medical care soon, you’re scared you’re going to lose your leg.

Who knows when you’re going to get found or if the BAU even knows you’re gone? You were on the phone with them when the plane landed so they must know something happened to you. When are you going to get found? Are you going to get found? What will happen to your leg if you don’t get to a hospital?

The first thing you need to do is find shelter because you’ve already found water to drink, which you take some time to rehydrate. You don’t have the best survival skills when it comes to this kind of stuff, but you do know you need to shelter yourself from the hot sun and the cold nights. Parts of the plane will have to do since you’re not sure how you’re going to build something with a busted leg and have no knowledge of how to do this.

Fortunately, there is a section of the plane that is hollow enough for you to fit comfortably inside. The next thing you need to do is build a fire to keep you warm during the night. Your parents sent you to summer camps when you were younger that taught you how to survive in the wild if you ever needed to, but that was such a long time ago. You used to be an expert at making fires but you haven’t used this skill in such a long time.

You can either use your glasses to magnify the sun to start a fire, use two rocks to create a spark, or rub two pieces of wood together to create enough friction for a fire. Either way, you’re stuck trying to make the fire all day. As long as the sun is still up, you have hope that a fire can be started before nightfall.

The only supplies you have are three guns and a knife Derek gifted to you for Christmas last year. If you want to eat, you’ll have to kill for it before the animals kill you. Besides the fire crackling next to you and the sounds of animals, there are no sounds to give you comfort. There is no doubt that the animals smell your blood and the dead bodies. They will come for you sooner or later, and you pray it’s the latter.

Don’t fall asleep. You’re scared they’ll get you if you fall asleep.

Penelope comes into work extra early to try and find where the plane is. No one got any good sleep knowing you’re out there suffering and JJ refused to sleep without you next to her. She is exhausted when she comes to work but she won’t stop until you’re found.

“Pen, did you find anything?” she yawns and grabs some coffee.

“I might have.” Both she and JJ walk to the briefing room where everyone else is. “So, I found the general area where Y/N could have landed, but it’s not an exact location.”

“That’s good, right?” Spencer asks.

“No. The problem is that there are twenty islands within that vicinity, and I can’t narrow down the list. She’s in the Bahamas.”

For being in the Bahamas, this fucking sucks. You’re in some kind of jungle with no one around you for hundreds of miles. Whatever went wrong with the plane, you don’t think you were meant to be a survivor. It could have been a mechanical failure, the pilot could have done this on purpose, or someone could have shot you out of the sky. Without your team here, you’re not sure how you crash-landed.

Your leg isn’t doing any better because it’s throbbing, and even through the bandages you can see how infected it is. You’re trying to wash it out with water every so often to keep it clean but it’s hard, and the first aid kit isn’t helping much anymore. You’re starving since you haven't eaten anything since before you left Florida. You haven’t had the heart to kill anything because you hate killing live animals. JJ often makes fun of you for not being able to kill a fly so it’s heartbreaking knowing you’ll have to kill an animal for food.

How long will you be able to live like this before you succumb to the sweet relief of death?

The first two islands that the BAU searched were a bust. They started with the smallest ones in hopes you’ll be there but nothing came up. It took a couple of days per island to search and the longer you go unfound, the more JJ’s heart breaks.

Days turned to weeks that turned to months, and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to go home. You’re lying on the ground in silence except for the animals who have definitely gotten closer to you. They’re eating through the dead bodies and will eventually make their way to you. You don’t have enough bullets to protect yourself with, but maybe you can make it another week.

At least the stars look pretty.

It takes weeks to scour through the bigger islands with the hope of finding you alive getting smaller and smaller. Half of the team believes you’re dead while the other half are starting to think that. JJ flat-out refuses to believe you’re gone until she sees a body. The only reason they’re still looking for you and wasting resources is that you’d do the same for them if they were lost. You’re part of their family and they need to find you dead or alive at this point.

Eventually, they reach one of the biggest islands in that group of twenty. They only have a few more islands to go through so if they don’t find you within those, there’s no telling where you can be.

“Y/N!” JJ yells as she treks through the dense forest. The rest of the team is behind her looking and calling out for you as well. There is a helicopter above you to get some aerial views of the islands. They walk a mile further into the island when they see the first sign that you’re here: part of the plane. “Guys! Look! Y/N!!”

You’re lying on the ground in so much pain from your leg and from your stomach. You’ve eaten very little since the crash so you’ve lost a lot of weight which means you’re so tired. You don’t have any bullets anymore to protect yourself but what’s the point if you’re going to die here anyway? You close your eyes to get some sleep when you hear your name being faintly called.

Are you hallucinating? This isn’t the first time you thought you heard your wife calling for you. Maybe this has been a really bad dream and you’re at home in bed with JJ. Your leg isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be but it’s very red and oozing pus even through the gauze.

“Y/N!”

“I’m here,” you mutter weakly. The team follows the plane parts to where the main crash is and where you are. JJ gasps and runs over to you to make sure you’re alive. “You found me.”

“I’m right here. Oh, my God! Guys! I found her!” JJ cries.

Derek and Emily join JJ’s side to help you while the rest checks on the others even though it’s pretty clear they’re dead.

“They’ve been dead for months,” you groan as they help you sit up. “I’m so happy to see you guys.”

Hotch takes out his phone to contact the people in the helicopters.

“We found her. We need a medic down here.”

“You don’t have to worry anymore. You’re gonna be okay,” JJ promises.

You’re taken to the States immediately with JJ and Hotch in the helicopter with you while the others stay behind to get the dead bodies back to their families and to figure out why the plane went down. You’re taken into surgery as soon as you get to the hospital which lasted more than twenty-four hours. They saved your leg but you’re going to have to endure physical therapy for months to get you back to how you were walking before, and you might not even get there.

Still, you’d take this over dying alone any day.

You’re severely malnourished so you’re hooked up to IVs to give you the nutrients you’ve lacked for months.

“JJ?” you whisper.

She is by the window just thinking when she hears your voice. She quickly turns and joins your side by the bed. She takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

“What is it, baby?”

“I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“Don’t. This is not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I tried for months to keep the animals off them, but I guess I wasn’t successful,” you cry. JJ wants to cry for you knowing what you must have gone through but she doesn’t let them fall. “I’m so hungry.”

“Do you want jello?”

“Yes, please,” you sniffle.

She leaves the room in search of some jello which gives you time to reflect on your future as a person and with the BAU. You’re not so sure you can continue this job because these last two months have changed you in ways you never thought you’d change, and you don’t think it’s for the better.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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scaryarcade · 1 year

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r/DID is straight up unsafe at this point, full of hostile accusatory assholes who sit around waiting for vulnerable, distressed ppl to slip up & make a mistake with terminology or describe their inner experiences too literally so they can jump in and go "um actually thats not how the disorder works why are you making a mockery of actual survivors? gotcha!" and it gets like 50 upvotes every time

this type of behavior is the reason i don't want to touch most online DID spaces with a 10 foot pole. the power dynamics & rigid self-policing & rampant outright shaming/hostility are deeply fucking concerning.

#syscourse #abyssposting #🌻

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Could you do Yandere Neige realizing his newborn doesn’t like him and it’s not just their baby missing Y/N?

Yandere Neige Leblanche | With A Baby Who Hates Him

The nursemaid winces at another primal twang in the child’s wail as she finished packing her things. Looking sympathetically at the actor she couldn’t help but pity him.

It must be hard losing the love of your life during such a stressful time, she thought letting herself be escorted out by the dwarven bodyguards.

The actor frowned at the infant in his arms continuing to wail into the night. Neige Leblanche didn’t do that often. Before now he had no reason not to smile; everything had gone his way. He married the love of his life, supported them, even had this child with them; not to mention his soaring career. Granted in the reaches of his mind he can recall his love’s…complaints.

“Shhh Shhh, sleep my love sleep. Please.”

If it were possible the infant’s cries increased and the smile he had been shining down upon the bundle was beginning to quiver. His pale hands shook with the constant contorting of a baby’s face as the crying continued. He set them down; pulling his hands away as the tiny hands swiped at his.

What had he done to deserve this? He thought, tilting his head as he watched the beady (e/c) irises squinting without tear-ducts. Ruminating to the howling soundtrack he found no answer until that letter came to mind:

"It’s Your Fault"

The scathing letter—your last letter would forever be etched into his mind. A reminder of the complaints that riddled their speech.

“ Just let me go.”

It was something they said often despite the reality. Therapists in agreement all could testify that Neige Leblanche would never do such a thing; as he had testified many times before. His love was hysterical but that was no obstacle for his affection. Thus he withstood their complaints even though the world was in agreement with him.

He was a good man. The perfect man. Or so they said–because his love continued to protest. They were insistent that he was a monster and that he had drove their “friends” away. For which he had, on the defense that they were delinquents and they were. What friends kidnap one another and require police intervention? Not good ones, that’s for sure. Alas he could never blame you, even he could be fooled by who he thought was a friend. Under the conviction of his fanbase he discovered the violent tendencies of a coworker he once held dear.

He reached for his child again. Pulling him into his chest only to be stopped by the persistent miniature hands. Pushing at his chest, Neige couldn’t help but be reminded of the one who did the same gesture.

“Stay away from me!”

Now he could recall where he’d felt this rejection. Where he grew used to hands pushing at his chest and neverending protests. Only now could he recall the tears shed in the height of hysteria as he withheld his intervention. Thosed loved hands continuing to swat at him—they always did even as Neige united with them under the watchful eye of the concerned public. It never ended. A constant barrage of pain through insult and injury. Relentlessly fighting against the love of their life, they only stopped when they died.

But why? Why? Why was this child the same? At barely a year this baby is trying to reject him just like you. What caused this? Your absence? His presence? Even in the solitude of the nursemaid and dwarves the child was still crying, reaching for something beyond. Could it have been you? Reaching back to him to say something.

Than why this? Why must he watch helpless as the only survivor of the love-of-his-life starves themselves into an early grave. Neige couldn’t find a reason as to why he must be pained so…only vaguely thinking of his actions as the cause.

Unaware of the way he smothered those similar protests with his rose-tinted view. Led the way for the wolves to tear and break down his adversaries–he claimed he never had. Letting screams of isolation go through one ear and out the other; as he was justified in his actions. A cycle of injustice had been built and Neige was completely oblivious to his true role.

So now he could only shed tears at this travesty.

Completely unaware that this was his punishment and he was going to serve every second of it.

#yandere neige leblanche #yandere twst neige #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere angst #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere twisted wonderland neige leblanche #yandere rsa #yandere neige leblanche x reader #yandere neige x reader #yandere twst #yandere #yanderes #yandere torture

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piebingo · 6 months

Text

Some more young royals fanfic recommendations for you to enjoy

What lies within | chaptered | completed | by museraphoria

Wilhelm is barely fifteen when he becomes the sole survivor of a tragedy that takes the lives of his entire family. Lost between guilt and grief, Wilhelm finds himself wielding powers he never asked for, and forced to give up his only chance at a normal life.

As he attempts to pick up the pieces of his former self, his best friend Simon remains by his side, more than willing to embark on this journey with him. While Wilhelm trains to wage war on crime and injustice, his feelings for Simon start to change, and he soon must choose between living a lie or risking to lose the person who matters the most to him.

or, the Wilmon!Superhero AU everyone deserved

I don’t think I had ever read a superhero AU before so this was fun! I loved the way the characters were written and it’s one I definitely need to reread.

Oh love, tell me we’re not tragic | chaptered | completed | by starrystoryteller

"You got to be fucking kidding me," He sighs, his mom sending him a pointed look at his choice of words. He tries to twist his features into an apologetic expression but it's a lost cause as his eyes stay glued to the image on the television. He narrows his sight in on the youngest of the princes, eyes catching on the badly covered scar just under his eye. The Crown's attempt at covering up his mistake is futile.

an enemies to fwb to lovers wilmon fic

This is like the definition of idiots in love, where you just want to smash them together and make them see sense. I loved it.

You’re the cutest Jailbird I ever did see | oneshot | completed | by pagegirlintraining and TheAmberFox / @pagegirlintraining @the-amber-fox

If you asked Simon and Wille, neither of them could tell you exactly how they ended up inside a cell at the Bjärstad police department for getting in a fight with August and his friends. The thing is, neither of them is mad that they ended up there together. Will our two favourite idiots figure out by themselves why they are ready to smack people for each other or will it take some princely meddling?

They are the absolute cutest in that fic, and there’s one thing I enjoyed very much. Anything by those two authors (both separately and as a duo) is amazing and this is no exception.

You are unbreaking | chaptered | completed | by unfortunate17 / @unfortunate17

The dagger at Simon’s hip weighs more than it had when he’d first strapped it to himself this morning.

Wille gentles an arm around his shoulders, pointing out exotic birds and plants, explaining their respective habitats, their food habits. The vulnerable skin of his throat is unguarded, the tender flesh near his heart covered only by thin, white cotton. It would be quick, Simon promises himself, painless even. Wilhelm need not unnecessarily suffer.

“– back inside?”

Simon blinks up at him.

Wille’s shading his eyes, brows knitted together in faint concern as he looks down at him.

Simon feels himself flush. “Sorry, I missed what you said.”

Or, Wille is the second born son of Queen Kristina. Simon is the fool who marries him with the goal of assassinating him and bringing an end to the tyrannical monarchy. It doesn't go according to plan.

I was on the edge of my seat with this one. I love this kind of more medieval setting and the premise of that one?? Simon being there to assassinate Wille? Sign me UP. You won’t be disappointed.

I love the way you lie | chaptered | completed | by itsme_hi_imtheproblem / @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Prince Wilhelm can't seem to catch a break. When he is pulled into yet another scandal through no fault of his own, he is desperate enough to try one last thing to salvage his image: A publicly staged fake relationship.

Simon Eriksson is a struggling young artist, trying to make a name for himself and tired of the obstacles he faces on his way into the music industry. He'll take any publicity at this point.

A pact is made. Strictly business.

What could possibly go wrong?

When done right (for my taste ofc, there’s no real right or wrong way in creativity and art!!), I love a good fake relationship. And this one is done super right imo. Erik is alive, and wilmon is full of feelings and I was too when reading.

You don’t have to hurt anymore | chaptered | completed | by wilmonxoxo

Running from his mother and her unattainable expectations, Wilhelm finds solace at his brother’s house in Bjärstad. It was there he found a sense of belonging, a sense of hope, that, maybe one day, he too could be brave like Erik and leave his tumultuous household.

It only took one night for the boy next door to catch his eye. The boy who lived in the house where screaming and fighting seemed to be a constant, who shooed away help like his life depended on it but seemed to crave it so deeply in his soft brown eyes.

“I just wanna be friends with you. Everyone needs a friend.”

"Bullshit.”

Because since the first night they met, Simon saw the way Wilhelm looked at him. It was the way this whole fucking town looked at him but worse. Like he was broken, weak, someone who needed to be saved by the cute, privileged boy next door even though he’d been protecting his family for as long as he could remember - even the one who was destroying them.

"Why do you say that?”

“Because I see the way you look at me, Wille."

Because I think I might look at you the same way and I don’t just wanna be friends with you, either.

This one was very interesting to read and pretty angsty (at least to me, I don’t read much heavy angst). I loved how important of a role Erik had too. Very interesting dynamics.

Other recs: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

#yr fanfic rec list #young royals #queue

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chaifootsteps · 4 months

Note

Viv on Threads:

"I have made many replies all day here regarding basically all of that. I don’t know what joke I made? But the scene is not a joke and no artists kink in any way influenced the show. I don’t know what more I can say at this point."

Also Viv: "the visuals that cum with it"

Also Viv: *Uses almost word for word dialogue from Raph's rape Valangel comic*

Raph: *Posts very concerning cosplay and OF photos of him slowly altering himself to look like Angel Dust and getting off to it in IG comments and posing sexually with a Val cosplayer*

Viv: "He's an SA survivor!"

Raph on Twitter: *Sexually harasses a 15 year old child and leaves Twitter because of it. Also says he is NOT an SA survivor on Twitter*

Viv: *Victim blames the 15 year old child instead of being professional and firing Raph's ass*

Viv on Threads: "Because art they made or make isn't my business to police. As long as it's not illegal I will never shame someone. Do I like all of it? No absolutely not, but they don't influence the show past doing boards that are directed by other people."

Also Viv: *Liked Raph's art and dialogue from the Valangel rape comic so much she personally added it to ep4. Also had Raph himself board it.*

Maury: The results of Ep4 determined that was a lie!

#Anonymous #image reply #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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lily-174 · 1 year

Text

“you said you were fine! you promised me!” evan buckley x reader

trigger warning: angst, hurt, blood, swearing

overview: on a call, multiple IED explosions. the 118 have to clear through the rubble and get all civilians to triage but the reader gets hurt but doesn’t mention it to anyone.

it was a quiet shift, all was going well. it was fine youd only had one call so far so everyone was just relaxing at the station, that was until you got called to a mass casualty situation, almost every fire station in the city had been called out.

your team from the 118 were searching through the rubble from the explosion, it was believed that multiple civilians could be beneath. you all sprung into action digging up as many survivors as you could and taking them to triage.

it had been an hour since you had arrived and in that time about 30 meters from the original explosion another blast went off almost doubling the amount of injured civilians. the LA fire department was spread around treating and looking for injuries. while PD was clearing the surrounding areas to ensure no one else would be hurt if another bomb went off.

“buck, y/l/n, hen i need you on the second explosion site.” you heard bobby shout through the radio, you looked up from the patient you were currently with and looked at your boyfriend who was waiting for you to follow him.

“go! i’ll meet you over there” you exclaimed to buck as you carried the patient over to triage, he nodded and ran to the next explosion site. you laid the women down handing her over to paramedics she had extensive injuries and the paramedics shook their heads knowing she probably wasn’t going to make it you internally cursed knowing you were gonna find a lot more people who wouldn’t make it. days like this made you question being a firefighter.

you knew this call was going to last a while and it wasn’t good, you jogged over to the second site and began carefully climbing up the rubble to where buck and hen were, it was dangerous the LA police department wasn’t sure if there was going to be more bombs so your team had to work fast, you looked back to see the groups of injured civilians waiting to be tagged at triage and the frantic firefighters racing in all directions to help. you sighed and continued climbing.

as you were climbing you fell, you groaned feeling something pierce your stomach, you could feel the tearing of your skin as you fell. you took a deep breath not wanting to be injured they needed all the first responders they could get in the scene.

you pulled yourself up feeling the burning sensation of something being pulled out of your abdomen, looking down to see a metal rod sticking out of a part of cement, it was covered in thick crimson blood. your blood, just the sight made you feel sick, you internally cursed, you could feel the blood pooling under your turnout coat. the pain made your head go funny, but you had to get through it, you couldn’t take up space at triage.

“y/n! come on!” you heard buck call for you, you got up and continued climbing up to your boyfriend and coworker. you began clearing through the rubble and shouting out for people, helping your team look for injured people when you began feeling dizzy so you stopped for a second holding onto a piece of rubble to try and steady yourself, this was going to be a long day.

“y/n are you okay?” buck asked checking on his girlfriend, he noticed she was starting to look pale and his concern grew, he couldn’t let anything happen to you. you and buck had only been together 6 months but he loved you, so much. he felt like your protector, you meant the world to him already.

“yeah i’m good” you stated continuing to dig through the rubble, but he just looked at you not convinced at all. you looked up at him, brushing off his concern.

“i’m fine buck i promise” you reassured, you lied you could feel your energy running out and the pain was starting to grow. he didn’t believe you but he continued working and decided he’d ask you about it later, surely if something was really wrong you’d tell him.

another hour had past you’d cleared out as many civilians as possible now helping with medical aid, you’d become more lethargic, pale. you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore you just felt as if you were on the verge of passing out. but you had to continue there was no way you were gonna stop working, you got this job to help people. and that’s what you were gonna do.

you walked away from triage needing a minute to yourself, walking over to the truck and grabbing a bottle of water you stood at the truck and looked around to make sure no one was looking and undid the clips of your turn out jacket and seeing your shirt covered in dark blood underneath, you pulled your top up to reveal the wound, still bleeding over an hour after. you grabbed some gauze packing the wound before covering up again and returning to help the other medics. your team would be so pissed at you if they found out you continued working in this condition, but you wouldn’t let them find out.

you’d helped a few people while trying to push the pain as far back as you could, there was now enough first responders that the 118 could head back to the station. as the team walked back to the truck you were struggling even more then before, you were now limping, your whole body was hurting. the pain you were in was becoming unbearable, you kept trying to ignore these feelings but your eyes felt like they were going to close any minute.

“good work today team” bobby said as he opened the truck door to get in, in that moment it felt like all the blood drained from your head, your vision went blurry, your hands became clammy as you tried to walk closer to the truck. you couldn’t even tell who was stood next to you. eddie? buck? bobby?

“buck-“ you spoke hoping he could hear you but your voice was too weak, eddie noticed as your legs buckled and you lost consciousness luckily eddie grabbed you in time and stop you hitting the floor. he slowly lowered you to the floor, checking your pulse hoping you were just exhausted and it was nothing serious but he noticed your pulse was weak panic laced on his features as he called out for the team.

“guys! i need a jump bag” eddie exclaimed as the rest of the team rushed to your side. buck grabbed the jump bag running to his girlfriends side, his heart dropped at the sight of you on the floor.

“y/n! come on baby wake up!” buck took your turn out coat off and the group saw your bloodied top, buck gently peeled it away from your skin taking off the gauze to fully reveal your wound. buck gasped visibly shocked. you’d promised him. you’d promised him you were okay.

eddie and buck began treating your wound as hen and chimney rolled over a gurney, buck gently picked you up feeling like if he moved to fast he’d break you. he couldn’t comprehend the fact he knew something was wrong but didn’t stop to actually find out what was wrong. he felt so guilty, he knew and now you were lying on a gurney.

buck helped hen load you into the ambulance as chim ran to the front, on the way to the hospital you woke up, you could feel someone holding your hand and when you opened your eyes there was buck towering over you.

“y/n? what happened?” he asked holding your hand as he moved a strand of hair out your face, you were so tired you could barely comprehend what he was saying.

“i- i fell.. i’m so tired buck” you mumbled closing your eyes again, buck had never felt like this before. the worry he felt in the pit of his stomach was horrendous.

“no no y/n keep your eyes open for me” buck begged squeezing your hand, but it was no use you fell unconscious again, buck could feel the tears pooling in his eyes.

when you got to the hospital hen and chim handed you off to the doctors buck tried to follow them but they wouldn’t allow it, hen and chim took him to the waiting room and he sat with his head in his hands, hen and chim sat next to him, hen rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him.

“it’s all my fault… i knew something was wrong” buck muttered, he felt so guilty. the woman who means the world to him had been walking around in pain all day putting herself in danger and he didn’t even question it.

“buck this is not your fault okay?” chim said, but buck didn’t believe what he said, it was his fault. nothing would change his mind. the rest of the 118 walked into the the waiting room, they were your family. they were all so worried about you. the whole team sat there waiting to hear anything, and buck sat worried and beating himself up.

an hour went by when a doctor emerged and called out your name, everyone stood, buck rushing towards the doctors.

“is she okay?” buck asked, anxiety pooling in the pit of his stomach. he needed to know you were okay.

“she’s okay, we’ve repaired all the damage. stitched it up, there is a risk of infection considering we don’t know what caused the injury, and the fact it was left untreated. i’d say because of the extent of the injury 4 weeks off work and before she returns she needs to be cleared by a doctor” the doctor explained, buck listened to every word and over analysed every word.

“can i see her?” buck asked, the doctor said yes and they began walking to the room she was in.

“i’m her boyfriend ill be looking after her, anything i need to know, just tell me. i’ll keep a look out for infections, clean it and re bandage.” buck blurted, he was prepared to take care of you, and take a couple shifts off to make sure you were okay.

“sounds like you have it all covered. she’s just in here” the doctor smiled looking at the room you were in, buck rushed inside the room to see you laid there in the hospital bed, you looked exhausted but none the less he thought you looked beautiful.

“how you feeling?” he asked walking up to the bed and sitting on the bed right next to you.

“good, i’m okay.” you smiled weakly as you held his hand, buck looked so relieved to see you smiling and awake.

“you promised me.. you promised you were okay y/n i was so worried about you. if you’re hurt you have to tell me. you cant continue working” buck said you could tell by his tone of voice how serious he was, you’d really worried him.

“i’m sorry babe, i thought there were more important things” you apologised, you did feel guilty, but you didn’t want to make anything about you.

“no. no. you’re the most important thing. i don’t know what i would’ve done if i lost you today. you’re the most important thing in my life y/n. if you’re hurt you do not continue working. you scared me y/n. i felt so guilty, i knew something was wrong and i just let you get on with it” he explained holding your hand bringing it up to his mouth a placing a soft kiss on your hand.

“it won’t happen again buck.. but this was not your fault. it was mine. i just didn’t want to bother anyone.” buck shook his head.

“i love you y/n, you’re not bothering anyone i’ve already spoken to the doctor. i’m gonna take the best care of you. your own personal doctor” buck smiled trying to lighten the mood, your mind went straight to bucks antics in the bedroom.

“i love you too dr buckley” you giggled

#911 s6 #911 x reader #911 fox #911 cast #911 fic #evan buckley imagines #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #buck x reader

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triple-asstro · 1 year

Note

Okay so… hear me out… it might sound basic as hell but I don’t think we have enough one bed trope fics for Leon so I propose that you write your version of what would happen if reader and Leon had to share a bed !

Take the Moment

a/n: AAA thank you sm for this req, i love you sm and i hope you enjoy this one <333

It'd been five hours since you last got sleep, but it'd felt like eternity. You chalked it up to the stress of running from zombies for god knows how long, and the settling realisation that an entire city had been reduced to ash in only a few hours. Thankfully, you were able to get some semblance of peace inside an abandoned police station. Now, you were huddled in the corner, clutching a small makeshift blanket made out of old curtains, staring deadeye at the cop in blonde.

Confused, your mind was. Why would this cop save you out of all people, especially in a situation like this. A cop faced with unimaginable horrors shows mercy and compassion? It had to be a ruse, or they were keeping you for something greater. It had to be.

You kept staring at him from afar, the cop named Leon Kennedy. He had this strange soft expression on his face, despite the horrors he’d recounted to you and the other recovering officer standing on your far right. You quickly broke off contact as soon it was reciprocated, with him approaching you with a can of coffee.

“Here,” he suggested, kneeling down and placing the can in front of you. You merely glanced at it before gazing into his eyes. They seemed to speak sincerity and concern, but you’ve been through this type before, and you weren’t falling for it one bit.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, dragging the can off to your side.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. How did you get into this?”

“Arriving on my first day. I was heading into town before this hit.”

“Ouch,” you whispered.

“What about you?”

You felt careful choosing your next words, still dubious of his friendly demeanour. You inched slightly away, sneakily positioning your hand so it was resting above your hostler. Your weapon was there.

“I was…at a gas station. Me and a few other survivors wanted to take a road trip outside of Raccoon City, see what was out there. Turns out, there were those zombie freaks ready to attack us.”

“Damn, I’m…I’m really sorry. That’s awful. At least you were able to get out while you needed to.”

“Yeah,” you repeated, almost like an instinct. Your story wasn’t a complete lie, you were indeed with a group of survivors at a gas station. But, you weren’t there for a road trip. You lived in Raccoon City for a few years with a couple of friends, until you were compromised. You weren’t going to say that, however. Something about his words, his voice, however, slightly lowered your guard. Your brain was telling you not to, you couldn’t afford to let that down. If you did, it would cost your life, and that’s not something you can buy back.

“You should get some rest.”

“In this situation?” you stated, trying to practically shake some common sense into him.

“You might never get another chance, why not?”

“Yeah, but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he was off, leading you by his hand. His skin felt comforting, his presence the embrace of home. While your brain had been preaching the mantra of ‘don’t let your guard down,’ your heart was already prancing along to his tune, and you hated it. In this war between heart and logic, which would win?

You were both searching room after room, finding a comforting place for you to nap. Though you tried convincing him that you didn’t need sleep, the searching drove you both restless. Soon, both of you were yawning and praying that the next room had anything that resembled a bed. Your prayers were answered as you opened a door that revealed a cot tucked away in the corner. It had proper sheets and a stray blanket, more than you could ask for. The last thing you remember was you and Leon approaching it before collapsing onto the floor out of exhaustion.

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon woke you out of your delirious state. Instincts drove your body to twitch, retracting when you felt another presence near. As your eyes attempted to shift through the darkness of the room, you spotted the faint silhouette of Leon’s face, his eyes drifting downwards. Upon closer inspection, you found his arms wrapped around you, encasing you in his grip. His breath cascaded down your neck, sending strange shivers down your body.

No. You shouldn’t be focusing on Leon and his touch, you were supposed to be focused on surviving. How long were you knocked out? What had happened while you were asleep?

Those thoughts were pulled from your mind as soon as you heard soft noises escape from Leon’s lips. They were whimpers, faint ones, but still audible. Certainly a surprise, but not unwelcome. You carefully shifted to your right side, lying sideways so your face was opposite to his. Now, when his lips echoed the same whimper, you found your heart racing across your ribcage. Instinctively, you pressed your fingertips towards your pulse, and yet, it still pumped the regular amount.

As your arm rested near your pulse, a hand gripped on your wrist, pulling it closer towards him. A pulse was sent through your heart, stretching your face into a smile. Strangely enough, you could feel your worries melt away, bit by bit, your logic trying to shake you out of your impending lavender haze. The noises of air conditioning slowly muffled in your ears, as multiple thoughts swirled your mind. One, you dwelled on. Should you risk it, chase this thrill while you can?

“Are you okay?” Leon mumbled, prying his eyes open.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy re2 #re2 leon #re2make #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #open requests

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ukrfeminism · 2 months

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The government is facing calls for a public inquiry into the scandal of sexual abuse in mental health hospitals, following an investigation by The Independent.

Rape Crisis England and Wales has warned that the “alarming” scale of abuse within the UK’s psychiatric system requires “major intervention” from ministers.

It comes after an expose by this publication and Sky News revealed that almost 20,000 reports of sexual incidents – involving both patients and staff – had been made in more than half of NHS mental health trusts in the past five years.

As well as a public inquiry, which would give survivors the chance to give evidence, Rape Crisis England and Wales wants the government to appoint a named minister with responsibility for addressing the problem.

PraisingThe Independent and Sky News for shedding light on the scandal, chief executive Ciara Bergman said: “That anyone in the already vulnerable position of needing or being detained for in-patient care because of their mental health needs should experience sexual violence and abuse whilst in the care of the state, is deeply concerning.

“We are concerned that without major intervention and leadership at the highest levels, this could lead to more incidents of sexual violence and abuse happening, and this behaviour being accepted as inevitable, when it is not, and is indeed absolutely preventable.”

The charity added that it had been raising our concerns about widespread safeguarding issues uncovered by The Independent for many years. “It is disturbing that so little has seemingly changed,” it added.

As part of the investigation, The Independent published a series of harrowing stories revealing allegations of rape and sexual assault on patients and staff in mental health hospitals.

In an exclusive podcast, Patient 11, one woman, Alexis Quinn, revealed the harrowing story of having to escape a mental health ward after claiming she was sexually assaulted twice.

We also revealed shocking failures by the NHS and police to follow up on allegations, with figures showing just 26 charges came from nearly 1,400 reports to the police.

After the revelations, the health minister said allegations of sexual abuse in mental health settings would become part of a major review.

Rape Crisis England and Wales also called for hospitals to ensure they have women-only wards after figures showed more than 500 claims of assaults and rape on mixed sex wards have been made since 2018.

Despite the NHS launching a “sexual safety” programme in 2019, The Independent and Sky News revealed hospitals are not adhering to key requirements of the guidance.

The news comes after NHS England published new survey data last week showing 80,000 – 8 per cent – of NHS staff reported experiencing unwanted sexual behaviour from colleagues and patients last year.

An NHS spokesperson said: “Any form of abuse or sexual violence is completely unacceptable. Everyone deserves to feel safe when they come to the NHS for their healthcare needs, often at a time when they are vulnerable.”

In September NHS England published its NHS Sexual Safety Charter which provides guidance for healthcare systems in addressing sexual misconduct risks and signing up to a “zero tolerence” approach. So far 260 organisations have signed up.

“The NHS has made clear that every provider of our services has a legal and moral duty to safeguard patients, to report all incidents of sexual violence, and to take appropriate action with the criminal justice system and safeguarding bodies where harm has occurred,” it added.

A Department of Health and Social Care spokesperson said: “Sexual violence or misconduct of any kind is unacceptable and NHS organisations have a responsibility to protect both staff and patients. The Department has zero tolerance and is clear that the NHS should work to stop sexual assaults happening in NHS services and premises.

“We have been clear patients should not have to share sleeping accommodation with others of the opposite sex and should have access to segregated bathroom and toilet facilities, and we expect NHS trusts to comply with these measures.”

It did not respond to calls for a public inquiry but said it was working with mental health services to ensure every patient has safe care and that safety body the Health Services Safety Investigations Body has launched a national investigation into mental health inpatient settings.”

#articles #mvawg #Health

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overandunderland · 3 months

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"Look at the color of his skin Clawfang, dark and rich! You know what they say about the taste of those from above?"

Owen's mind reeled, not just at the danger he faced but also at the Rat's casual bigotry. It was absurd and terrifying all at once, a nightmare conversation he never could have imagined.

"True, Snarltooth. A rare delicacy this one." Clawfang agreed–his yellow teeth bared in a grotesque grin.

"–We should eat quickly though, can't risk more of his kind coming after us."

Greetings Overlanders!

What's up y'all, W.P.P here, (He/Him) and I'm currently looking for Beta Readers/Editors/Fans of The Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins. To read/engage with and possibly even shoot some feedback on My Fan Novel/Fic.

It's a canon compliant Sequel-Boot of sorts and follows after Code Of Claw.

Ok, pretty cover but what is it about?

Three years (gotta get our boys in that Classic High school setting huh?) After The War of Bane. Fragile peace exists in the Underland. But as is The Underland, one knows peace never lasts. Especially built on deception. When a conspiracy is exposed and the ghosts of beliefs thought lost to Time pervert the ideas of coexistince. Prophecy calls yet again for its Salvation. When you ignore and attempt to reject fate, it tends to mess back. Now, calling for The Seeker. A being who's destiny is forever tied to Bartholomew's hand of war and tribulation, to return The Warrior to The Underland, to save the realm together. However, there maybe key players, manipulating destiny from the shadows. One that will change Gregor's entire view of Prophecy, Regalia and Owen's life forever.

Woah, OC Alert 🚨 Who's Owen?

Here comes the ✨Boy✨ 🎹

Meet you: Owen. "The Seeker"

15 year old Bronx native. A boxer, thanks to his dad. And quite the cook, thanks to his mother. It was their deaths, and the way the police handled them, that killed any respect for authority the boy had left. Owen is a resilient and resourceful teenager thrust into the extraordinary world of the Underland, where he faces trials that challenge his courage and determination. Despite his initial reluctance, Owen demonstrates a strong sense of compassion for others and a willingness to confront his fears head-on, although it takes him A MINUTE to get there. He possesses a sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm, which often serves as a coping mechanism in the face of adversity. He's also 🏳️‍🌈 Queer 🏳️‍🌈.

let's talk Virtues and Vices?

Determination: Owen demonstrates a strong sense of determination, as evidenced by his resolve to survive and navigate the challenges presented to him in the Underland.

Courage: Despite facing daunting and unfamiliar situations, Owen exhibits courage by confronting his fears and taking action to protect himself and others. Albeit not without some coercing.

Compassion: Owen shows compassion towards others, such as when he expresses concern for the citizens of Regalia and reflects on the consequences of his actions on innocent lives.

Adaptability: Owen demonstrates adaptability by adjusting to his surroundings and learning to navigate the unfamiliar environment of the Underland.

And his vices?

Impulsiveness: Owen's impulsiveness is hinted at through his sarcastic remarks and tendency to act without fully considering the consequences of his actions. This impulsiveness could potentially lead him into trouble or exacerbate conflicts. It is this that sets off the entire Prophecy to begin with.

Self-Doubt: At times, Owen exhibits self-doubt, particularly when he questions his ability to fulfill the expectations placed upon him or doubts his capacity to make a difference in the face of overwhelming challenges.

Guilt: Owen struggles with feelings of guilt, especially regarding the unintended consequences of his actions, such as the destruction of the Prophecy of Time in the Underland. The source of his guilt extends from not being in the car when his parents died. Survivors guilt.

Owen definitely suffers from bouts of Imposter Syndrome and feelings of inadequacy, especially when comparing his experiences to Gregor's.

Oh God, it's not OC X Canon, is it?

Hey now! I'm not throwing any shade at OC X Canon shippers, I have a few ships in other fandoms that are essentially that. But no, Gregor & Luxa's Relationship while will be rocky in it's rekindling, are endgame. Also Gregor isn't remotely Owens type. No, Owen will have his own Underlander romantic interest. In fact, Meet you:

Aiden: Luxa's personal guard, Archer, confidant, and best friend.

16, (what the hell are they feeding them nowadays down there, he's a brick house.) Aiden is Queen Luxa's personal body guard and closest friend. During the years after The War of Bane. When he discovers his family had planned a coup d'etat against the royal family, including catching his father about to kill Luxa, he draws his bow, taking his life and testifying against his family's quest for power. He's jailed for a time before Lord Vikus takes him in admiring his loyalty to the current crown and grooms him to protect Luxa, and to be there for her for when he eventually passes. He's arrogant, showboaty at times, and abrasive, especially when it comes to The Overland Boys. More specifically "The Mouthy Imp" known to him as Owen. He and Luxa are fairly close, to where rumors amongst Regalian council, and teen girls, are suggesting they are to be wed. Yeah, good luck with that ladies. 💅🏽

Oh so he's like Henry?

Some pretty decent comparisons and contrasting elements can be made between the two of them.

Both of them are/Were close to Luxa

Both of them can be described as Arrogant.

Both of them technically betrayed their families and believed they did so for a good reason.

Where as Henry was desperate for power, Aidens only motivation is to maintain peace for the Royal family and the Kingdom Of Regalia.

Personally, I don't believe Henry came up with his idea of Allying with King Gorger on his own. Nor do I think he's the only one after him who thinks that way. Listening to the Return to Regalia Podcast has helped provide some really dope questions about the landscape, geopolitical or otherwise, that are like alluded to, but never really expanded upon. That I wanna use this book to answer. Oona and the Gang have been a godsend for fic writers who are fans of the series.

If *insert character* isn't in it, I'm not reading it. 🤬

Guys, Of course Ripred is gonna be in the bo- Look, it's Canon Compliant alright 😅. Ive been listening to the series on Audiobook on loop for the last few weeks as I've been writing. I want to make sure I'm not misunderstanding each characters voices, and how they think and speak. Remembering who was where when this or that happened. But Let's discuss some returning characters!

Boots: Now 6 years old, Boots has become quite the little person! Her affinity for taking animals hasnt gone anywhere, her most recent hyper fixation being a show about Australian talking dogs. A show Gregor has to admit, has it's moments.

Temp: The gangs back together! Thanks to his association with The Princess, Temp has become highly regarded amongst Crawlers. You and Boots will love the Set piece the Crawlers built in her honor.

Hazard: Now as old as Gregor was when he first arrived, The Halflander has been elevated to a role of diplomacy and interpretor liaison for dialogue between Underland Inhabitants. He carries a sword, for defensive combat. A sign of unavoidable circumstances, even with his fathers dying wish. A rebellious streak may in fact land him in potentially fatal trouble.

Howard:Luxa's Cousin and medical prodigy, makes him one of the most skilled Healers of all in Regalia. He's made it a personal mission to learn to Heal every species known to them in the Underland. As of late, he finds himself frequenting visits and courting with one of Regalias nanny's in the Nursery.

Dulcet: Dulcet is one of the nannies that works in Regalia's palace. She was the one that took care of Gregor's sister, Boots whenever they came to the Underland. She was one of Gregor's favorite Regalians. Sweet but embarrasses easily. Nowadays, especially around a certain Regalian healer. She isn't too sure, but he's been quite sweet to her as of late.

Mareth: Mareth has a good heart. He never stopped caring for those under his protection, and even for those that weren't. After his leg was removed, he still maintains his humor and kindness. He'll stick knock you out if you wild out too much. He and Perdita saw Aiden's training through in it's entirety. He's moved emotionally to see Gregor Return, however bittersweet it may be. Designated to be a bit more hands off, he still finds time to train the young soldiers of Regalia. His improved prosthetic affords much more mobility since his last interaction with Gregor.

Luxa: Hardened by her assassination attempt, the loss of her family and Gregor. Luxa is finally approaching the full cusps of uncontested power in Regalia. Her actions such as memorializing a controversial figure, as well as her Bond with Ripred has caused much dissenting opinions amongst factions of power in Regalia. There is a particular fear from her grandfather that she may be doomed to repeat history. Will Gregors return, spawn a change in Luxa? And is it safe to even find out?

The rest of Gregor's Family also make an appearance! Lizzie, Grace and Gregor's Dad. (Going with Dr.Elliot/Eli for short) all come back and influence the story in some Capacity.

Why is Gregor White/White Passing?

Gonna level with y'all, I didn't really know about Tumblr like that. I'm a mixed race poc myself, and definitely lack Eurocentric features. I just was honestly basing his look off of what I've seen in the covers and alt editions of the series. Hell, Homie is even BLONDE in the Russian edition. Me and my partner also are a little too far into the story to match him up with the Headcanon of Tumblr. That being said, I do love POC Gregor, and will be maintaining that his dad is a person of color as well. Just have Gregor as yt passing presenting. It could also provide a bit of conflict between He and Owen. As Gregor's first descent is a lot more welcoming, Than what Owen goes through his first time down, starting from his initial fall.

So do The Warrior & The Seeker immediately hit it off?

Yeaaaaahhhhhhh-no. Wouldn't be much of a story if the two became immediate besties. I couldn't imagine being too thrilled with the guy who's fault it is that you're even in this mess at all. Now who exactly I mean by that is what makes it fun. They need each other to make it through the quest. Over time however, they learn about each other, and how they can truly help one another. Eventually becoming close as their journey reaches its end and inklings of a new ones raises it's head. That being said, when he learns of Gregor and Luxa's relationship, or their past together. Is full team Gregor and Luxa. With Owens dating pool being non existent above and below (so he thinks) ground. He becomes invested in the possibility of Love blossoming at all, mostly to see Luxa pull the stick from out- know what, it's better to read it.

But the video though, what's that about?

For Nostalgia sake, as well as Accessibility reasons, I've been screening several actors and VA actors who would be down to do an audiobook! So it will be releasing as audiobook as well!

Hobbies aren't cheap but I love the series so much that I don't see why not 🤷🏽. I fell in love with the audiobooks so it'd be pretty cool to see it again.

In the same manner as Star Wars novels, where not every book is written by the same author-

I want readers to feel as if the baton was passed from Suzanne to yours truly 😅.

So Overlanders! Fans! If you're looking to beta read, I'm looking for Beta Readers ✨

Hope to hear from you all!

Fly you high! 🦇

Breezy Edit: Hey y'all, it's Breezy again, Just want to let y'all know, according to some of y'all what we're looking for are "alpha" readers. But beta readers still apply 🫰🏽💙

#gregor the overlander #the underland chronicles #return to regalia #ripred the gnawer #ripred the rat #ares the flier #fanfic #underland #Gregor #suzanne collins

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heavencasteel420 · 2 months

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Okay. I’m gonna be a hater.

I’m not against St4ncy because of the association between their first time and Barb dying. If they were good together and she really wanted to be with him, then I wouldn’t be rooting for her survivor’s guilt to keep that from happening.

I’m also not against St4ncy because of the S1 graffiti, per se. From a writing perspective, I think the show over-egged the pudding by making both Jonathan and Steve do such shitty things to Nancy in S1. I believe the creators were mainly trying to make certain things happen plot-wise (there needs to be a photo of the demogorgon, the teen confrontation needs to be immediate and public so Jonathan and Nancy can end up at the police station) and trying to foreshadow Steve’s heel-face turn by making his objections to the photos more reasonable, and they did a clumsy job of it. And I think it’s basically fine for the creators, having realized that this was all too much, to quietly drop it. Such is the nature of multi-season TV. Realistically, it’s wild that Steve and Nancy would get back together a mere month after all of that, but, unless a shipper actually says stuff like “it’s not that bad that he would do that, because he was understandably upset” or “it was just vandalism,” I’m not going to assume that they’re chill with the graffiti.

That being said, the whole “Steve’s feelings were hurt because he thought he was being cheated on and he’s young and it was all Tommy’s fault anyway and he apologized” vs. “Jonathan had no motivations other than intrinsic badness and his youth is not a factor and his apology doesn’t count and his terrible home life is not only not an excuse but a justification for Steve’s tenuously connected shitty actions” thing has soured me on large swathes of Steve fans across the board. I’ve seen too much of the so-called real-life justice system to find this attitude anything other than disturbing. But this isn’t exclusively a St4ncy shipper problem. If anything, they at least usually like Nancy enough not to act like she’s somehow at fault for the photos because she forgave Jonathan later (???) or put her “cheating” on Steve on the same level as the guys’ worst S1 behavior.

My main reasons for disliking the ship (in an exclusive endgame kind of way; I’m cool with Stoncy most of the time and I think they canonically had some good times together) are way more subjective. The first reason is that Jonathan is my favorite and St4ncy shippers invariably don’t like or get him. This is predictable, although not inevitable; Jancy shippers don’t dislike Steve so uniformly, for example. So obviously that’s not gonna work out.

The second reason is that I just don’t find the things people like about their relationship very romantic or desirable. He’s protective of her, but that mainly seems to involve trying to keep her from doing things she believes she has to do or retaliating against others in ways she finds distasteful. There’s not a lot of awareness of her perspective. He wants to be with her “no matter what,” with no consideration for the obstacles, but those obstacles seem to include “what she wants” and “what they are both like as people.” I’d get it more if he was like “I don’t know what the future will bring, but I’d like to give this a chance in the short term” or “listen, I can figure out what to do with my life in Boston as well as anywhere else,” but instead he just does not seem to know her at all or be thinking about what they would do as a couple in the immediate future. After a point, that’s just being in love with the idea of being in love.

Also—and I am not trying to be catty here—I think it’s kind of silly to compare his romantic dreams with Jonathan having reservations due to trauma, poverty, and family obligations. That’s not so much a testament to Steve loving her more as it is an indication that he is relatively unburdened by material concerns. He may be broke, but he’s not dealing with entrenched multi-generational poverty. I’m not saying these things to suggest that Nancy would be wrong to break up with Jonathan—sometimes love isn’t enough—or that Steve is less deserving of love because his life is easier, but I am saying that Steve was kinda born on third base here.

I am not convinced that Steve would do “anything” for Nancy! Nor do I think that he should! That is not a good or sexy dynamic in an equal romantic partnership to me! They should both have other principles and goals of their own! (Also. Is the guy who wouldn’t revise his college essay in S2 really gonna move to Boston for her? I think he’s changed, sure, but not in that particular way.)

#anti stancy #just dumping this all here #I’m trying to be more positive #but in order to be positive we must sometimes Bitch

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