#Group D SA

[emilyartstudio-s]

Are you in any other fandoms? Not asking you to draw all the fandoms you're in or anything! Just wanna know if you have any personality other than "heeheehoohoo southpark" ?

i don't have a personality

#asks #tumblr is my all south park content #to the point where i don't even like posting my ocs here;;; #on twitter i go ham though #im talking the las/t of us #HAD/ES you know Hade/s #I love anima/l cross/ing when the animals cross #Im obsessed with all zombie things #I love pokemo/n so much I love Gen 4 and 5 with all my heart #i play lots of walking d/ead and watch that too #chai/n sa/w man as well omg #just finished watching that 90/s sh/ow because i loved that 70/s sho/w so much #I watched shameless and continue to rewatch it liek soemthing is wrogn with me #NIGHT IN THE W/OODS SHAPED ME BTW #I am currently reading this one comic called the ni/ce hou/se on the lake by Alvaro Martinez #i can go on but now i'm starting to think that you mean actual groups? Actual friends? actual FANDOM instead of media?. #because if thats the case #i choose to not be part of anything i just like lurking lmao #My sketchbook has all fandom art but i'd rather not share that stuff too much um they're just sketches #anyway no only hehehaha south aprk in my brain #and even then i just like to draw and be bymy lonesome #it's such a surprise i even made this blog in the first place 😂 #thanks for #the #question.

[thaliagracesgf]

i hail a cab with a goat, and make some questionable decisions at a party

next

author’s note: i want to make it, like, really, really, clear that this is not a fic glorifying sa or being a victim. what the reader goes through here is a horrible experience, one that’s happened to me and countless other women (and other people!!). this fic is for anyone who, in the words of rachel sennot in bottoms, has been “gray-area-d,” and felt completely lost afterwards, not knowing how to feel or what to think. this is one example of how you deserved to have been treated, and i’m sorry if this or something similar wasn’t your experience. 

content warnings: sexual assault (not graphic and not by luke! r is sort of tied down and has their shorts undone), violence (luke is not happy about this situation), alcohol (r is drunk), talking about it afterwards?, talking about monsters (on a regular pjo level), swearing. 

word count: 6.6k. i had a lot to say. so sorry.

this is the first fic i have written in a while, i hope you enjoy it!

⭑

seven a.m. in the camp half-blood dining pavilion saw the same faces every morning. you, silena beauregard, clarisse larue, and annabeth chase. your little group of friends spanned six years, at seventeen, fourteen, thirteen, and eleven, and your best friend, who had been off at college all year, made it eight. 

you didn’t remember becoming friends with silena and clarisse, although you figured hannah, your best friend and silena’s older half-sister, must have introduced you, and clarisse came along with her. 

you had met annabeth and hannah when you were just thirteen, when you had followed a friend to connecticut in the middle of pre-algebra. 

“do you understand any of this?” you whispered to grover. he gave you a look as if he had never seen a fraction before last week, and you sighed. your teacher, a kind old woman named ms. lucy, gave you a look. when she gave the class a new problem to work through, she came and knelt by your desk, looking over your shoulder at what you had managed so far. which was a whole lot of nothing, unless you included a sketch of grover that would make picasso proud. you shrunk sheepishly in your chair. 

you looked to your right, as if trying to see how bad it really was compared to your model, but he was gone. you turned back to ms. lucy. 

“did you see grover leave?” 

“hmm?”

“grover. did he go to the bathroom?”

“i assume so, dear. if you convert the decimal—" but grover’s things were gone. you felt terrible. you knew you were a terrible student, and ms. lucy was so kind to you anyways, but it wasn’t like grover to walk out of class like that. he was terrified of authority.

“i have to go,” you mumbled to ms. lucy, throwing your things in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “stomachache.” 

she looked genuinely concerned. “would you like me to let the nurses know you’re coming?”

“no… no. that’s okay.” and you ran out the door. 

it wasn’t too hard to find grover. he was sitting in an empty classroom just a few doors down, but what was weirder was that he was watching a video on the projector. weirder still, he was talking to it. you knew it was rude to eavesdrop. it didn’t stop you from doing it. 

“chiron, i can’t just leave. she’s here, and she’s in danger. she needs a protector. anything could come for her at any moment—" was he talking about you? 

a deep voice over the projector, whose face you could hardly make out through the low-quality image, answered: “i will inform her mother and she will go home. she will stay there until we can send gleeson to collect her and—"

“why can’t you send gleeson for these kids?” 

“he’s too far, it would take him a day at least to reach them. i already told you, this was a request from hermes himself. he wants his son and his friends collected as soon as possible, and—" 

who the hell was gleeson? and hermes… who names their kid after a greek god? at least choose one with a better name than hermes. it sounded like a disease. your mother had named your brother after some greek hero, but he didn’t go by it. and at least it was, like, a human name. 

“he’s the god of travelers.” you were starting to worry that grover might be on drugs. what on earth had they put in those enchiladas at lunch? “can’t he get him, like, a car? a day could be too long for—"

“grover.” the voice boomed. that shut him up. “you will go. you will escort the son of hermes, the daughter of athena, and the daughter of zeus to camp, and then you may return to the city. this is not up for discussion.” you were really starting to think that the booming voice might have been two booming voices, but the door was closed and the audio was already crackly, so you decided it didn’t really matter. 

you heard grover’s voice say, “alright,” defeated and almost mournful, and then the message cut off. your eyes widened as you realized that grover would probably step outside any second, and you would have no excuse as to what you were doing with your ear to the wall. you turned slowly, and winced as your shoe squeaked on the linoleum floor. you started speedwalking. no sense in trying to hide anymore, you were just interested in getting as far away as possible before-

“oh, gods.” grover’s voice echoed between cinder block walls and metal lockers. “how much did you hear?”

you turned, your fingers nervously twisting the straps of your backpack. “i mean. not everything. just. you know.”

“almost everything?”

“yeah.”

“this is not good. this is really not good.” grover wasn’t talking to you anymore. he was pacing the short ways of the corridor, head in his hands, muttering to himself. “my first mission and i’ve already messed it up completely.” 

“how could you have messed it up completely? you haven’t even met these kids yet.”

“oh, gods,” grover groaned.

“woah, dude. are you like, hindu or something?”

“what?”

“you said gods. plural. i read this book—"

“okay,” grover interrupted. “you need to go home.” 

“okay. that was rude. also, it’s like the middle of the day. my mom’s at work and my stepdad will kill me if i come home early.”

“your stepfather. perfect. just climb in the back window of your room, and when your mom gets home, tell her that chiron says you need to go to camp immediately.”

“what? what the hell are you talking about? who— is that who you were talking to on the phone?”

“what?”

“the phone call. the one you were mad at me for overhearing…”

“okay. first of all, that was not overhearing, that was eavesdropping. second of all, i’m not mad. this just complicates things slightly. third of all—"

“dude, you need to—" grover glared at me, and i shut up. 

“third of all,” he repeated, “that wasn’t a phone call. it was an iris message.”

“a what?”

“nevermind. not important. ask about it at camp.”

“why do you keep talking about a camp? i haven’t been to camp since music camp in second grade, and they don’t want me back. i was really, really, bad at the recorder.”

“you played the recorder?” grover looked suddenly very interested. “nevermind. you need to go home.”

“dude. i’m telling you, i. can’t.” 

“you have to—"

“take me to connecticut,” you suggested. 

“what?”

“isn’t that where you’re running off to?”

“you can’t come to connecticut with me—"

“why not? you seemed pretty adamant on the phone—"

“iris message”

“that you needed to be with ‘her’. based on how insanely you have freaked out, i’m guessing that was me. so take me with you.”

“i know you have no idea what is going on right now—"

“thank you for finally acknowledging that important part of this conversation.”

“- but taking you to connecticut would be an astronomically bad idea. like i-would-get-fired kind of bad idea.”

“you’re twelve. how on earth would you get fired? child labor laws are—"

“i’m nineteen.” 

you laughed at that one. “yeah, sure.” 

grover rolled his eyes. “look, i really, really, wish i could explain more, but i need to go. and i really, really need you to go home.”

“ok.”

“like really, really need you to listen—" he paused. “okay? great!”

“if it means that much to you, i’ll go home.” grover sighed with relief. 

he was eating his words. and a tin can he had picked up off the street. you had followed him out of the building, watched him call a cab, and then, at the last second, jumped in after him, slammed the door, and told the driver to drive before grover could figure out what was going on. 

after your initial panic, when you realized you were hurtling up fifth avenue at three-hundred miles per hour with three old ladies behind the wheel, you had straightened yourself out, and made grover explain everything. he had, reluctantly, when he came to terms with the fact that you were in too deep to back out now.  

he explained camp, the greek (not hindu) gods, and the ladies in the front (who had one eye between them) were very helpful about filling in the details. so, so many details. he explained that he didn’t know who your parent was, just that you were powerful, and that he was planning on asking your mom before everything went up in flames.  

he explained that he was going to connecticut to escort three (now four) demigods to camp half-blood, and that they would likely be tailed by monsters the entire way back. four demigods as powerful as you, and one forbidden child — a child of zeus, poseidon, or hades, as he had mentioned — would attract a lot of attention. 

and you did. it took you a month to get to camp after you found thalia, luke, and annabeth, constantly being thrown off course by monsters, over which you got to know them better than any friends you’d had in your life (with the exception of maybe grover and your little brother). your mother was worried sick, but you iris-messaged her (grover finally got through on that one) every so often, letting her know you were okay. she was surprisingly understanding about camp. she apologized that she hadn’t been the one to take you herself, and that she had been forced to hide the truth from you for so long. the calls always ended though, when she tried to tell you who your father was. the water would shut off suddenly, the rainbow disappearing along with your mother, so you learned to avoid the topic if you wanted to continue talking. 

when thalia died, you were in shock. you sat at the edge of long island sound at camp for three days, staring into the ocean. you didn’t speak, even when you were claimed, as you sat, by your father, poseidon, and shuffled your things from the hermes cabin into cabin three. it was just another loss — you could no longer sleep in the bed next to luke’s. there were no familiar faces in cabin three — no faces at all. you were completely alone. 

eventually, an older aphrodite girl came by the cabin. she introduced herself as hannah, and she showed you around camp, forced you to sit with her and her siblings at dinner, dealing with chiron and mr. d’s disgruntlement herself, and at the campfire. she dragged you to the center of the amphitheater, dancing slowly at first, and then faster, until you were laughing and finding luke and annabeth in the crowd and dragging them to dance as well. 

you missed hannah so much. she wasn’t that far, a first year at barnard this fall, where you would hopefully be in a couple of years. you weren’t ready for college yet, you thought, so you would take a gap year (though you hadn’t been in school for years) and stay at camp, while chiron would help you convince the admissions committee (using the mist) that you had a perfect gpa, excellent extracurricular activities, and a stellar recommendation letter from a highly admired ancient greek scholar by the name of professor c. brunner.  

sitting at breakfast with you was probably miserable, you could admit. you were counting down the days until hannah came back, and your friends were definitely tired of it. but for some reason, this morning silena was practically jumping up and down with something. 

“will you stop?” you asked. “you’re shaking the entire table.” 

“i can’t, i’m sorry.” she seemed sincere in her apology. “i just— oh, you’ll see.”

you didn’t see, in fact, as someone jumped out from behind you and wrapped their arms around your head, their sweatshirt covering your eyes. “who—" you started, before you got a whiff of lavender-vanilla perfume and jumped up from the table. 

hannah. you shrieked, probably waking up half the camp. you spun around and tackled her to the ground, hugging her so tightly you would probably cut off her circulation. 

she pushed you off, laughing, and got to her feet. “it’s good to see you too, babe. what’s up with all of you? you never call, i feel like i’ve been completely cut off.” (you had iris-messaged her last week for five hours). 

“your sister is still absolutely obsessed with beckendorf,” you said, sitting down.

“hey!” silena protested.

“but of course he has no idea that he likes her.” silena turned pink. “no one here is good enough for annabeth, obviously—"

“i never said that, clarisse doesn’t let any boys near me.” you stick your tongue out at her. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” clarisse said, feigning obliviousness. “you hang out with luke all the time.”

“he’s always hanging out with that new kid.” she grumbled. “or—"

“speaking of, clarisse definitely thinks this hermes boy is so cute— you haven’t met him, he got here a few months ago, but his name is chris, and i think they would be so cute together. she’s out of everyone’s league, obviously, but if anyone would be good for her—" 

“gods, you would think you’re the aphrodite kid, listening to you.” hannah smiled. she stole a bite of your french toast. 

“i’m just excited to see you,” you said, laying your head on her shoulder. silena and clarisse smirked. 

“she’s leaving somebody out here,” silena said, smiling. 

“i know, it’s weird, she never shuts up about him otherwise,” clarisse added, narrowing her eyes at you teasingly. 

“oh, who could you possibly be talking about?” hannah twirled a piece of hair. she hasn’t even been here, but one doesn’t forget their best friend’s crush of four years in a few months. 

“i do not,” you protested meekly. 

“you knew who we were talking about, though” 

“i spend a lot of time with him, that’s all. there would be a gaping hole if i told you about my day and didn’t bring him up.”

“would you stop pretending as if you aren’t in love with each other, please?” annabeth interrupted. “you’re worse than them, at least they can admit it.” she gestured at clarisse and silena. 

“i am not in love with him, annabeth.”

“you’re always starting at him.”

“i’m in conversation.”

“with your eyes. that is literally textbook romance.” 

“i could so admit if i was into him,” you say, cutting her off. “i admit things like that all the time. i told you i thought jack was cute. you know that kid from demeter?”

“we all know you made that up,” annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest. silena gave her a light push. 

“don’t be so quick to accuse, annie.” only you and silena ever called her that. “i don’t think she made it up. i just don’t think she’s as into him as she is into him.”

“would you drop it, about luke, please?”

“hey, you said his name, not me,” silena smiled. “but sure. i don’t believe that you’re not into him, but i’ll drop it if you can prove that he isn’t into you.”

your heart sank. you weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt nauseous at the thought. hannah’s hand rested on your knee, as if she could sense it. 

“how am i supposed to do that? i can’t read minds.” 

“hook up with jack at the campfire.”

“what?”

“flirt with him! you were just talking the other day about how you’re eighteen and you haven’t even had sex yet.” hannah covered annabeth’s ears, to which she shoved her off and glared. “jack’s, like, really hot. i saw you staring the other day.”

“when luke wasn’t around,” annabeth added, one eyebrow raised.

“you want me to have sex with jack?” 

“i’m not saying that. just flirt with him. see what happens. we’ll— she gestured between herself, clarisse, annabeth and hannah— see how luke is doing.” 

“okay, he isn’t going to be doing anything,” you said. “i don’t see what this accomplishes.” but even as you were saying it, your mind betrayed you. you thought for a second and conjured an image of strong arms holding you, soft lips kissing yours with the bonfire light in the background. maybe you were near the beach.

“we’ll see,” silena smiled. 

you didn’t want to go all the way, or anything. you knew that. but… jack was really hot. and sweet. he was always catching little kids falling off of obstacle courses with soft bushes, and growing them flower crowns. it couldn’t hurt to talk to him, see what happened. maybe he’d ask you out, or something. bring you flowers on a date. and you guessed you wouldn’t mind making out with him. 

the campfire roared in the middle of the amphitheater. the only people there were the older campers, and some counselors trickling back in from tucking kids into bed. you had helped luke with the hermes cabin, because he had so many kids to take care of, and you had none. 

you pulled the covers over katie, a girl a little younger than annabeth, who had gotten to camp a few months ago. she was still unclaimed, but with the way she spent all day in the strawberry fields, and the plants tended to shoot up around her, you were fairly sure where she belonged. 

you kissed the top of her head, and stood up, looking around the dark cabin for luke, seeing him kneeling beside a little boy, probably about the same age as katie. the boy sounded like he was crying. 

 “hey, connor,” luke whispered, rubbing circles on the kid’s back. “it’s okay. it’s okay. i get them too.” you realized that the boy must have been afraid to fall asleep. “travis is right above you, he’ll protect you, okay? nothing bad can happen to you here.”

he looked over at you, before turning back to connor. “and we can play poker tomorrow, you’re getting pretty good.”

“are you leaving?” the boy whispered, choking a bit on his tears.

“just for a little bit, kid. i’ll be back soon, i promise. i’ll be here when you wake up. i’m not going to leave you anytime soon.”

“okay,” the boy mumbled. luke pulled the covers over his shoulders, and ruffled his hair before turning to you. 

“let’s go,” he mouthed, gesturing at the door. the two of you crept outside, luke much more stealthily than you, closing the door silently. “god of thieves,” he shrugged, but he didn’t grin as he usually did when he bragged. you didn’t have to ask why, but you played along. 

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you said, rolling your eyes. “can we go now?”

“yeah, ‘course,” he said. he slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him as you walked, and you couldn’t help but think of silena’s words as you rested your head on his chest.

arriving back at the campfire, you pulled yourself away from luke, walking over to hannah. she smirked at you, pulling you in for a hug. 

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. 

“i know,” you replied. “i want to. he’s cute.” 

and he was, you thought, as he led you away from the campfire. you’d sat for an hour, letting the flames dance over your skin as you talked with him. he made you laugh, even blush when he grew a flower out of the stone to tuck behind your ear. when he grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, you felt dizzy, though that might have been the alcohol. 

as you walked further away from the amphitheater, you spun around in the grass, laughing, and he laughed with you. or at you? you couldn’t really tell, and you didn’t really care. you just wanted to kiss him. you didn’t notice that you weren’t heading near the cabins until he stopped in a little cove at the edge of the forest. 

“why are we here?” you asked, a little dazed. 

“come on,” he said. “you know why.” 

and then he was kissing you. it was messy, and made you kind of uncomfortable, but you told yourself to get over it. you couldn’t expect it to live up to the time luke had kissed you, on a dare, when you were thirteen. nothing would ever live up to that, because you couldn’t have him. he hadn’t even cared when you had left him at the party, talking up some girl you couldn’t really see on the other side of the fire.

you blinked, pulling away from jack. you hadn’t realized as you were thinking it, but you had admitted to yourself for the first time that yes: you did want luke. really, really, wanted him. you pushed back on jack lightly. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do this right now,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth on the sleeve of your hoodie — luke’s hoodie, that he had given you that night after he kissed you, when you were shivering outside, staring into space because you couldn’t understand what you were feeling. 

“come on, it’s fine,” jack replied, pulling you back into his arms. they weren’t like the arms you were picturing earlier. no, you could admit to yourself new that those had been luke’s. your mind was reeling— you knew that you couldn’t have him, that he would never like you like you liked him, but kissing jack felt wrong. not that you had really been kissing him back. 

“i want to go home,” you said, and you weren’t sure where you meant. back to the campfire, to luke and hannah, back to your cabin? maybe even back to your mom on the upper east side, who you missed every day but couldn’t live with during the year for the sake of your little brother, who was too young to know that he, too, was a son of poseidon. 

“really? you were flirting with me all night,” jack mumbled into your lips. “stay a little longer.” it was true, you had been flirting with him. you figured you could at least make out with him for a bit. you resigned, letting him lower you onto the grass, and reluctantly letting him run his hands along the hem of your shirt. 

hannah was getting worried, and luke could tell. he had forced himself off when you were clearly interested in that demeter guy, who luke knew and was friends with but suddenly hated with all his guts. he had forced himself to be interested in getting the details on silena and beckendorf, which he didn’t really realize he was getting to share with you later, resigning to glancing too often through the flames of the fire at your face, and the way the flames made you look like a goddess. no, he thought. you always looked like a goddess. 

but hannah, who had just arrived back at camp for the summer that morning, was biting her lip, and looking around with a bothered expression on her face, and luke had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he needed to know you were safe immediately. 

he walked over to hannah, probably too quickly, and didn’t waste time asking how she was, or how college had been. “where is she?” he demanded, too forcefully. he would have to apologize to hannah later, but he only had one thing on his mind.“what’s wrong?”

“oh. hey, luke,” she said, still in a sort of trance. he snapped his finger away from her face, shaking his head.

“hannah? where is she?” 

she shook her head and widened her eyes. it was clear to luke that you had picked up that habit of staring out at nothing when you were deep in thought, usually not about pleasant things. “she’s with jack,” she said. “they left a little while ago. i just… i don’t know. i should go check that she’s back at her cabin by now.” 

“yeah, yeah we should,” luke grumbled, and started taking the steps out of the theater two at a time in an effort to get out. hannah followed— you had told him that his stress could be contagious. 

you weren’t in your cabin. you weren’t in the demeter cabin either, and the pair of them woke up a bunch of kids as you barged in, which he was sure mr. d would have a lot to say about in the morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

he ran across the basketball court, hannah close behind. 

“i have an idea of where they might be,” hannah said, pointing in the direction of the woods.

“how do you know?” 

“because i showed jack that spot when we were fourteen,” she said, grumbling. luke clearly wasn’t the only one who cared about you. 

“i thought you were gay?” luke questioned, not slowing down. 

“yeah. like i said, fourteen. people explore things, figure themselves out.” gods, she thought, men could be so incredibly stupid. 

they ran faster than ever to the edge of the woods, where sure enough, they found you, lying on a mossy stone with jack hovering over you. luke wanted to run to you immediately, but hannah held him back — no easy feat, but she managed. 

“hold on, romeo,” she strained. “you can’t just barge in there and—” then she heard it— the unmistakable sound of your voice, and the word stop.

“jack…” you mumbled. you were so drunk. you weren’t sure where you were anymore, and you didn’t really remember walking over here, though you knew you had. “jack, we can do this later, i’m tired—” 

“you’re fine, it’s fine,” he said quietly, starting to undo the zipper of your shorts. you reached down to stop him, but he pushed your hand away, and as it hit the stone, moss started growing over it, holding it there. 

“jack, stop it,” you said, more forcefully this time. you realized that he didn’t even know what he was doing, and for some reason that scared you more. he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he wanted it— he wanted you held down, and he didn’t care that you didn’t. 

he shushed you, but looked up at a rustling in the trees, and a familiar grunt. 

luke broke out of hannah’s arms, but it didn’t really matter, because she had been letting him go anyways. he stormed across the clearing, and while you were still dazed and confused, you couldn’t miss the entirety of jack’s weight being ripped from on top of you, and you thought you saw a fist collide with his face. 

hannah, however, rushed to your side. she didn’t particularly want to see luke end up bloody and beaten in the infirmary, but she had bigger fish to fry right now: namely, you. she tore up the moss, no longer strong as jack’s focus was elsewhere, and redid your shorts for you. there were tears on your face as she pulled you to your feet. 

there was so much noise. jack was shouting at luke, but you couldn’t make out the words. you could hear the music and the gleeful sounds of counselors from the amphitheater, but it seemed worlds away from you. 

as hannah led you out of the woods, much faster than you could really manage, your head began to pound behind your eyes. a splitting pain hit your forehead, and your vision went black and spotty. you stumbled forward, relying entirely on hannah to keep you upright, but one stray tree root took you down. you swam between consciousness and a dark, dark sleep. there was screaming, it was hannah, and then the familiar deep voice of clarisse, barking orders. you thought you heard annabeth’s name, and then two strong sets of arms lifting you up, and carrying you away. 

you woke up at the bottom of the sea. no. that wasn’t right. the bottom of the sea was soft, covered in mud and sand. you tried to stretch your body, hitting plastic walls. as your eyes focused, you could make out cartoon fish swimming entirely too close to your face, and you sat up with a start, splashing water all over a corner of the infirmary. 

a kiddie pool. they had filled a kiddie pool with salt water, and left you in it overnight to soak, like one of those colorful dinosaur toys that grew in water. and the worst part was that it seemed to have worked. you felt brand new, like you had slept for a hundred years, and at the same time followed a very strict workout regimen, taken a juice cleanse and eaten like a king. you groaned, and slipped back under the water. 

you stared at the ceiling, watching wooden beams ripple with the surface of your personal ocean. you wondered if your father ever felt like this is in the pacific, if he could be that big if he wanted to. your camp necklace floated up before your face, crossing a familiar face lurking over you. 

you sat up. cara fletcher, hannah’s friend, held out some nectar. you shook your head. 

“i’m okay.”

she raised an eyebrow. 

“fine,” you sighed, taking the flask and drinking. it did help. you felt like you could take on the minotaur. 

“your friends were here all night,” she said. i kicked them out around ten because they were falling asleep on each other, and i didn’t need any more cracked skulls when they fell off the stools. 

“more?” you asked. she sighed, looking over her shoulder. 

“your boyfriend beat that kid up pretty bad last night,” she said. you didn’t see jack lying on any of the cots, but a head of dark curls lay a few beds down, and the body attached to it did not look to be in great shape.

“he’s not my boyfriend.” you answered quickly, not taking your eyes off of luke. “is he okay?”

cara seemed to make out which he’s you were referring to. “i wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “hannah told me what happened. if you ask me, luke didn’t do nearly enough damage.” 

“don’t tell him that,” you said. “and he’s also not my boyfriend,” you added as you processed her words fully. 

“not yet, he’s not.” hannah said, strolling in with three bagels in hand.

“i thought i told you to go to bed,” cara scolded, taking her bagel. “you’re going to drop dead one of these days.” hannah smiled, ignoring her as he sat down next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.

you glance between them, ideas churning in your mind, but they were quickly interrupted by the bagel being shoved in your face. you had always thought that the harpies must have spent some time in the city— they made a dam good bagel.  

“so.” hannah started. “you are going to tell us everything you’re thinking right now, because i see you looking over at him every two seconds, and don’t think you’re getting out of any of it.”

“i’m eating,” you grumbled. hannah reached to snatch the bagel away, but cara swatted her hand back. 

“she’s recovering.” you stuck your tongue out at hannah. 

“i don’t care,” hannah said. “spill.” 

“look, i don’t even know what happened last night—” 

“because you were really, really, drunk,” she interrupted. 

“do you want me to speak or not?” you demanded. 

“okay. fine. but just so you’re aware, he swooped in and defended you, and beat the shit out of that little asshole, who, just between us, mr. d is fucking fuming with.” trust hannah to get distracted two seconds in. demigod adhd was no joke. “he dragged him to the big house this morning himself, severe concussion and all, and according to lee, chewed him out for about an hour. something about the sanctity of drunkenness and how it is not to be weaponized… even chiron was surprised.” she paused for breath. 

“anyways, the point stands— he,” she nodded her head at luke, “was quite literally your knight in shining armor, and if you still don’t think he is absolutely enamored with you—” and you were pretty sure you heard a cot creak— “then i swear on my mother i will call her down and force her to do something about this because i cannot take it any longer.” 

“he was just being a good person, hannah,” you muttered. “he’s just like that.” 

hannah looked as though she were about to scream, but cara rubbed her hand along her thigh, calming her before she spoke herself. 

“there’s something more than that, isn’t there?” she asked softly, and you thought she was staring directly into your soul. “there’s a reason you don’t think he likes you.”

you hesitated, splashing the water around in your pool and making eye contact with a cartoon fish as you worked up the courage to say what it was you knew you had to get off your chest.

“before last night,” you started, your voice cracking as you spoke, “it was just me thinking i wasn’t pretty enough, or good enough for him. that he wouldn’t look at me because there are so many other girls at this camp who are obsessed with him. and i don't think i realized that i liked him either. but now…” a sob came from the back of your throat, and you looked up at hannah, tears streaking your red face. 

“why would he want me now?” you sobbed.

“hey. stop that,” hannah started. “what jack did to you wasn’t your fault, and everyone knows that.” she was trying to make you feel better, but the news that your pathetic love life was the talk of camp wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“it was, though,” you said quietly. “i led him on. i never told him no that strongly, and i was flirting with him all night. what reason did he have not to think… not to…” you were hyperventilating now, your words coming out in broken syllables. 

“i’m a fucking slut, and now everyone knows it,” you managed. you sank back into the water to slow your breathing, but tears still streamed down your face. 

“that’s bullshit,” came a voice from elsewhere in the infirmary. you could have thrown up then and there. you pulled yourself up by the walls of the kiddie pool, looking down the aisle as luke castellan limped towards you. his scarred eye was bruised and bloodshot, and he had a massive scrape running up his left arm, and that was just what you could see. the tears began to fall faster. 

“luke…” 

you were thirteen years old again, at the top of half-blood hill, holding grover upright. you were watching desperately as he stumbled upward, through the pouring rain, carrying a screaming little girl who was trying with all her might to run back and help her friend. all four of you were sobbing, exhausted and beaten. seeing them all like that was ten times more painful than the gash in your side. 

“that’s bullshit,” luke repeated. you got up from the pool and held his face in your hand, inspecting the bruise. you took the rest of the nectar cara had given you, holding it to his lips, but he pushed it away. “you’re not a slut,” he said. suddenly everything about your conversation came rushing back to you, and it hit you that you had just admitted to him that you were in love with him. 

you turned your head. hannah and cara were gone, slipped out the back door. you turned back to face luke, face red and tears pouring over your skin.

“that wasn’t your fault. you didn’t owe him anything. he‘s disgusting, and deserves to have his fucking dick cut off.” you laugh, despite everything. 

“i think mr. d may have actually taken care of that,” you whispered. 

“good.” you looked at him for a while. his eyes were so beautiful, a deep, deep, brown that reminds you of the otters that hung mysteriously around your upper east side apartment when you lived in the city.   

“why did you have to fight him?” you asked, reaching up to his face again. 

“you were in trouble,” he said. 

“luke.” the tears were threatening to fall again. “you could have seriously hurt yourself. i just… why? why not just pull him off of me?” you needed an answer. you needed to know why, why on earth he had put so much of himself in front of you, in front of jack’s fists.

he looked down at you, a pained expression on his face. “you know why,” he whispered. 

he looked down at your lips, and you shook your head softly. you looked down at your feet. you were so afraid, afraid that he wouldn’t be interested now that you didn’t want… that. from him. yet— that you considered looking up and letting him kiss you.

he shocked you when he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him, holding the back of your head into the space between his chest and his shoulder. 

“okay,” he whispered. “that’s okay.” then, softer. “i love you.”

you couldn’t say it back. not yet, not now. but you held him tighter, holding on to him like he was the only thing stopping you from falling into tartarus. 

“i’ll be here forever,” he spoke into your hair. and you believed him. 

the hermes cabin hosted a movie night that night. you were watching the incredibles two, at a request from connor stoll, who was currently involved in an intense argument with annabeth over which installment was better.  

“i think i’m going to start calling you that,” luke whispered in your ear. “jack-jack.” you glared at him. “‘cause, you know, your last name’s jackson-” 

“yeah, dude, i got the joke,” you said. you rolled your eyes, nuzzling your head into his chest. you could stay like this for a while, you thought, and as you closed your eyes, you felt him press a kiss to your head — something you had told him was okay. you couldn’t wait to bring him home for a weekend. maybe annabeth, too. you couldn’t help but think she would get along great with your brother.

⭑

a/n: hello loves! i hope you enjoyed this, please please leave any feedback or anything, and let me know if you would like me to continue this story/write more of luke and the reader's past. i hope people enjoyed the little hints at percy! so excited for this reader and to explore all her relationships.

#pjo x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke pjo #percy series

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

So you want to write about a Jewish Ed Teach - a quick guide to writing a Jewish man of color, by a Jewish moc

Given Taika Waititi is Jewish, I am always so happy when I see fanfic authors writing about Ed being Jewish! We need more Jewish poc rep and I'm always happy to see it. That being said, I've also seen a lot of misunderstandings, so I wanted to to write up a few quick guidelines.

Disclaimer: I'm just one Jew with an opinion, and this is based on my own experiences! I'd love if other Jews, especially other Jews of color, in the fandom would like to chime in with their thoughts as well!

It is possible to be a Jewish athiest! Judaism is membership in a people, and belief in g-d is not required (and, in my community, it's even considered a very personal question!). Some of the most observant Jews I know are athiests; belief in g-d and level of Jewish observance are not directly correlated. Cannot overstate how common it is for Jews to not believe in g-d or go back and forth on the question.

On that note, there are different levels of Jewish observance. Every individual is different, but in general there's Orthodox (very strict), and then, way on the other side, there's Reform and Conservative (Conservative does not equal politically Conservative). Conservative and Reform are very similar, except the Conservative movement tends to be more observant of traditional Jewish law and uses a lot more Hebrew. If you live in an area without a lot of Jews (like where I live!), it's very common for Reform and Conservative movements to have a lot of overlap and collaborate on a lot of stuff together.

Not every Jew keeps Kosher, or keeps Kosher to the same level of strictness.

Synagogue services are not like Christian services, especially outside of holiday services. Ordinary Saturday morning services are often more like a group conversation as we try to work new meaning out of the Torah. The B'Nei Mitzvah, the big ceremony that marks a kid being old enough to participate fully in Jewish life, is more like "baby's first thesis defense" than anything else! There have literally been pauses in services I've attended before as someone ran to the temple library to check their sources.

Not all Jews speak Hebrew. Some Jews might not know any, some might be able to stumble through the more important prayers, some might be able to sight-read okay, some might only know religious words but not modern words, some might be fluent! Just about any level of proficiency is believable.

Ed's got a lot of tattoos! Tattoos are a big traditional Jewish no-no, but (again!) different movements and different Jews have their own opinions. I know a Conservative tattoo artist! It's not something that other Jews would comment on (unless they're just assholes) and it wouldn't make anyone kick him out of synagogue services (no joke, I read that in a fic once).

Hannukah is not the only (or even the most important) Jewish holiday; it's just the one most non-Jews know about. The two biggest holidays are Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I think Ed's favorite holidays would be Purim (you get to wear costumes and put on plays!) and Passover (retelling of a story along with a big meal!).

Depending on the area and the Jewish demographic, Jews of color can sometimes feel uncomfortable in our own community, especially when other Jews automatically assume we must be converts. While this is a real issue, it is not something I want to read authors who aren't themselves Jews of color write about because it is a deeply inter-Jewish issue.

Depending on the community you grow up in, religious trauma isn't as common with queer Jews as it is with queer Christians. The Reform movement has been advocating for queer Jews since the 1960s (you read that right, yes). I'm not saying there are no queer Jews who have religious trauma, I'm just saing it's a lot less common, and I have always felt immediately accepted as queer in Jewish spaces.

The inverse is not true. Queer spaces are not always accepting of Jews (or of people of color, a double whammy!).

A few stereotypes to avoid: Jews are often stereotyped as being greedy and corrupt. Jewish kids are bullied by Christian kids because "we killed Jesus," when I was ten I had another kid ask to "see my horns." Always avoid comparing Ed directly to animals, especially rodents.

If you're a non-Jew looking to write about a Jewish Ed, I recommend doing some research. MyJewishLearning is a great website that's very accessible.

Every Jew interacts with our Judaism differently, so if you're writing a Jewish Ed, please take a moment to think about what it means for him! Membership in a community? Calming traditions that remind him of home, family, and community? A point of pride - we're a resilient lot! Even just a note in his background that he's not as connected to as he might like to be?

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd ed teach

[theetherealbloom]

NO COMPLAINTS | JOEL MILLER

No Complaints | J.Miller One Shot

Summary: In the peaceful town of Jackson, life seems stable. Ellie has found some sense of belonging, but for you, life remains a constant struggle due to the trauma you carry. You've faced loss, isolation, and danger, and you're not sure where you fit in. That's when you cross paths with Joel Miller, a man with a haunted past and a heart hidden beneath a tough exterior.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Age-Gap (Late 20s - Early 30s) Angst, Hurt-to-Comfort, soft!joel, suicide ideation, Almost SA (dw nothing gets that far), Assault, Abuse, Blood, Injury, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Slavery, Ellie and Joel had talked through their problems and everything is ok so no golf =D

A/N: This fic by @familyvideostevie titled “the meaning of it all” inspired me to write again after a long-ass writing slump. Literally, go read all of her fics cause they're just THAT good. Tbh, I’m not sure if this was even good to post since I’ve been out of practice. This one is a little darker than my usual writing, idk how it happened… it just does… so remember the trigger warning ya’ll!

Song: No Complaints by Noah Kahan

MAIN MASTERLIST

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You always thought that you’d find peace in never being awake long enough to feel anything. You lay there staring at the red marks on the hillside and the sharp grooves in the bark of the trees, and you couldn't help but wonder how you got to be in this desolate spot. Your feet, which were now exposed and rough, bore witness to a difficult journey.

All you knew is that one moment, you were fighting for your life from a group of raiders a few miles North, and you ended up where you lay. Had it been minutes? Hours? You weren’t sure as your vision was blurry and hazy, only saw the bleak white winter sky, you could hear crows cawing in the distance as you were freezing, and the snowflakes were on your lashes as you lay there in the snow.

Memories were a blur, time a mysterious riddle. One second, you had been immersed in a life-and-death conflict with savage captors who had enslaved you many kilometers to the South. In the next, you were in this desolate, snow-covered setting, with no clear explanation for how you had arrived. You saw the world through hazy glasses, your eyesight clouded, and all you could see was the stark winter sky, pure and cruel. As you lay there, a lonely soul in the middle of the cold wilderness, the eerie cries of far-off crows provided a haunting tune to your frost-chilled daydream. Each snowflake rested sweetly upon your eyelids.

A ghostly mist danced in front of your eyes with each breath, a whispered reminder of life's fragileness. You tried to relish these fading moments with every exhausted breath out. You felt tired and under pressure from having survived for a long time. You had endured the storm for a long amount of time, seeing pathetically as those you loved died, leaving a thick veil of grief, guilt, and unremitting agony in their wake.

You ached for relief, an end to the never-ending agony that had become your daily existence. During those last seconds, as your eyes closed like a curtain shutting on a world of hopelessness, you heard the muted voices of a group of strangers and the distant sound of galloping horses. A lone figure towered above you, their voice a beacon crying for assistance, while the warmth of your own tears blended with the chill on your cheeks. 

“Please… make it stop,” you gasped, the words escaping your trembling lips like fragile whispers, hanging heavy in the frigid air. "I just want it… to stop." And with that, at that very fragile moment, you gave yourself up to the gentle embrace of the gathering darkness.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

How you awoke unfolded gradually, like the faintest of whispers. First, a parched throat and chapped lips stirred you, and then the sensation of the plush pillow cradling your head, the yielding mattress beneath, and a soft blanket cocooning your form.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you hesitantly blinked awake, and an immediate panic surged within you, constricting your chest. The world around you was unfamiliar, and a gnawing uncertainty clawed at your psyche. Was this a new iteration of hell on Earth?

A relentless drumming, your heartbeat, echoed in your ears, and your vision swirled with chaos as you scanned the alien surroundings. You used your forearms to hoist yourself from the bed, your chest rising and falling with the rapid pace of your breath.

Then, the door swung open, revealing a man in a pristine white doctor's coat, clutching a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake," he began, but your question cut through his words like a knife.

"Where am I?" you demanded, urgency coloring your voice.

"You're safe," he assured, though the reassurance felt as hollow as an echo.

Driven by an instinct you couldn't fathom, you sprang from the bed, the IV drip yanked free from your left hand, a sharp sting preceding the rush of cool air against your skin. Barefoot and resolute, you pushed past the doctor, racing down the dimly lit hallway, your footsteps echoing in the empty, sterile corridors.

With a beating heart, you reach the end of the dimly illuminated corridor and see two enormous doors. With bated breath, you lunged forward, pushing them open and preparing yourself for whatever horrors could be behind them. You expected to be in another harsh and terrible location where the only things that remained consistent were torture and cruelty.

To your astonishment, you found yourself in a simple, wintry town. People of all ages populated the snow-covered streets. Elderly residents chatted quietly on porches, and children giggled and played, their rosy cheeks contrasting with the chilly air. The adults turned in surprise at your unexpected arrival, their faces mirroring a mix of curiosity and concern.

From behind, the approaching doctor and nurses shouted, their voices filled with alarm. In the midst of your confusion and disarray, a strong pair of arms encircled you, causing your instincts to scream in fear. 

"Let go of me!" you cried out, struggling in the grip that held you captive.

A soft, heavy southern accent whispered gently in your ear, "You're okay... you're safe here. Ain't no one here gonna hurt you, darlin'."

Your fear intensified as you flailed and cried inside the confining hold. But you didn't notice the abrupt, stinging prick on your neck because you were too caught up in the chaotic mayhem. The environment around you became blurry and black in a couple of minutes.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The patrol had begun like any other routine, just another day in the relentless grind of survival. The plan was straightforward: coming across a few Clickers and eliminating them like they were just annoyances to be removed. What he had not expected, though, was to stumble across a lady who was on the verge of dying of hypothermia. 

“Please… make it stop,” you begged in a voice so soft and fragile, "I just want it… to stop."

Joel couldn't ignore the desperation in your pleas. He'd been there before, when the world had crumbled into chaos, and he'd lost his daughter. Back then, he saw no point in carrying on, until he'd met Ellie and endured the hardships alongside her. He found her, protected her, and now, he cared for her as if she were his own.

Joel stood there, just across the street from the clinic, his weary eyes and gruff exterior a testament to the countless trials he'd faced. Those brave enough to ask for the details of what had transpired a few days earlier, who he had discovered, were met with curt, direct responses, followed by an icy, hard stare. 

He'd assumed that Maria, Tommy, or whoever had been entrusted with integrating newcomers into Jackson would take care of you. So, for the past few days, he went about his life as best he could—patrolling, teaching Ellie how to play the guitar, constructing new homes, and restoring old ones.

But as he made his way to assist Tommy with yet another task, he saw you in the middle of the street, awake and in a state of panic, clad in your medical gown. His chest constricted with a sudden, unexplainable urgency, and without a second thought, he was sprinting towards you, clutching you against his chest in an attempt to ground you.

Now, you were back in the small room of the clinic, asleep due to the sedative they had administered. Joel sat in a chair beside your bed, patiently awaiting your awakening. He couldn't quite comprehend why he felt drawn to be by your side, to ensure your well-being. He closed his eyes, pressing both palms to his face, contemplating the reason he felt so adamant about your recovery.

Maybe it was the way he had glimpsed the hopelessness in your eyes, a reflection of his own prior misery. The way you had pled, already having given up on yourself, touched a chord within him. He understood that sensation all too well. Despite the plethora of sins he had committed, perhaps aiding you was a chance for atonement, a way to make amends for everything he’s done.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You stirred from your slumber, feeling the haze of grogginess envelop you as your weary eyes fought to open. Gradually, your vision sharpened, and you found yourself in a familiar place. This time, you weren't alone.

Across from your bed, a figure sat in a chair. His countenance was rugged, marked by the passage of time, a salt-and-pepper beard framing a face etched with the stories of his life. His presence exuded a rugged handsomeness, even as he raised a quizzical eyebrow in your direction.

In a deep baritone, his voice resonated through the room as he uttered the words, "You're awake."

You shifted uneasily on the bed and looked at him with wide, unsure eyes, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. His piercing look was enigmatic; you didn't know how to respond, so you decided to be quiet, entangled in a fog of uncertainty.

With a soft hum, he introduced himself, "The name is Joel… Joel Miller. What's your name, ma'am?" His voice carried an air of gruff kindness that gently nudged you to respond, yet you found it hard to meet his gaze. Your eyes darted everywhere but his, and you said your name in a shy whisper, leaving it hanging there like a delicate secret.

Joel's voice wavered as he began, "I'm... I'm not exactly supposed to be here, but I—" 

Your brows furrowed, and your eyes squinted with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as you interrupted, "Then, why are you here?"

His words stumbled and faltered. "I... I don't—"

Frustrated with the lack of a clear answer, you turned your gaze away from him, your attention drawn to the frosted glass window on your left. Joel fell silent, respecting your need for space.

After a brief pause, you nodded toward the outside, your voice soft, inquisitive. "Is it real?" Joel waited for you to elaborate, and you continued, "There are kids playing in the street, no FEDRA, elderly being taken care of... it all seems so..."

"Normal," Joel finished your thought, and you snapped your head back to him, watching him nod in agreement. "Yeah, I couldn't quite believe it myself, to be honest," he admitted, clearing his throat. "Jackson is a safe place, a good community. They've got real food here."

A weary, exasperated chuckle escaped your lips as you felt a lump form in your throat, and your eyes grew watery. You hugged yourself tightly, seeking comfort in your embrace as you confessed, "I... I don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out, darlin'," Joel reassured you, his words infused with a tenderness that pierced through his rugged exterior. It was a kindness you hadn't expected, a gentle ember igniting a glimmer of hope within you. Maybe, you began to believe, that life wasn't supposed to be a never-ending punishment after all.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Solidarity was something you thought was long gone ever since the beginning of the apocalypse, where the Infected had taken what they wanted, and the remaining people who survived will always be at war with each other rather than fighting the common enemy.

It took more than a few tries, but eventually, you got the hang of things, thanks to Maria and Tommy, and especially Joel and Ellie. Bits and pieces intertwined with time got you to understand them better and sometimes made you feel less alone. Your mind sometimes wonders how Joel and Ellie met, when Joel practically adopted Ellie as his own, or how they got to Jackson.

You’ve got a house that you have made your own, a bed, and a kitchen. You help give back to the community in ways that you can. You helped in the greenhouse, and the stables, and when you were finally ready, you went out patrolling with the group when you were up for rotation.

Initially, you kept to yourself, often skipping breakfast, lost in a peculiar silence that enveloped you like a shroud. It was a protective cocoon, a way to conceal yourself as if you were an isolated island adrift in a sea of people. The presence of others had always unnerved you, a lingering fear that refused to release its grip.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Taking charge of the stables for the month had its perks, especially when it came to tending to the horses—an undertaking that ranked high among your favorite chores. While two other residents were technically assigned to work with you, the majority of your time was spent in the solitary company of the majestic creatures.

In the quiet embrace of the early morning, just before the crucial handover to the patrolling team, you busied yourself ensuring the horses were well-fed and prepared. Running your fingers through Scout's mane, one of the older stallions, you continued the rhythmic task of brushing his coat, a tranquil hum escaping your lips.

"S'cuse me," a voice interrupted, and you jolted at the familiar sound. Turning your head, you found Joel, surprisingly up and about at this early hour. Mouth slightly agape, you greeted him breathlessly, "Joel, hi."

"Up early for patrol today... so... was wonderin' if you needed any help," Joel's gravelly voice broke through the quiet serenity of the stables.

You tilted your head, a subtle quirk of curiosity. The unexpected shyness emanating from Joel piqued your interest. Scanning him up and down, you suppressed a smile before nodding, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fluttering in your chest. "Um, sure... Could you feed the rest of the horses over there?"

He nodded in acknowledgment before moving with seasoned ease to attend to the horses, his hands moving confidently as he handled the feed and navigated the familiar routine of caring for the animals. As he worked alongside you in the quietude of the stables, the bond between caretaker and horses, and perhaps something more, unfolded in the soft morning light.

"How are you settlin' in in town, darlin'?" Joel inquired, his voice dipped in a gentle southern charm that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. The term of endearment he used left you feeling a sweet warmth spreading throughout your body.

You shrugged, a subtle smile playing on your lips. "Jackson is good, quiet, and peaceful. Never thought a place like this could still exist after... everything."

Joel's gaze lingered on you, and he couldn't help but note, "Well, it's got its charm. People here look out for each other. You included darlin'." His words held a quiet sincerity, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Your eyes shifted around, a flutter of nerves settling in before gathering enough courage to meet Joel's gaze. You licked your lip nervously, and the words tumbled out, "Joel, I... I never apologized when I... um... first arrived here in Jackson. I'm sorry."

Joel looked at you, seeing the vulnerability in your eyes, and a softness overcame him. He offered you a sympathetic smile, "Nothin' to apologize for."

"You must have thought I was crazy," you lamely laughed, and Joel shook his head, his voice gentle, "No, not at all, just someone who's hurtin'."

You stared at him wide-eyed, feeling a phantom fear of tragedy as if he could see through you, still aware of any negative tendencies you may have. It evoked a sense of helplessness and vulnerability.

Then, a flicker of something in his gaze—a fire, a subtle intensity that caused warmth to spread across your face. An unspoken connection kindled in the quiet space between you, creating an inexplicable but undeniable bond.

Unable to hold his gaze, you looked away, clearing your throat, and tried to hide your smile as you continued to brush out Scout's mane. Joel smirked, watching you duck your head, proud of the way he made you react with just his gaze. The unspoken words hung in the air, a sweet tension that hinted at something more than apologies and simple conversations.

“So… what’s today’s patrol route?” You asked, trying to move the conversation, Joel walked over to you and finished feeding the horses, he stood in front of you and sighed, “Should be a quick one, makin’ sure there aren’t any infected or raiders nearby.”

Time flew by in the hypnotic flow of discussion with Joel before you realized it. His patrol partner eventually arrived, signaling the end of your stolen moments together. As you handed over the reins to Joel, a subtle thrill coursed through you when your hand brushed against his. A soft smile graced your lips, and you whispered, "Stay safe out there, Cowboy."

In response, Joel's steely exterior softened, and a rare, small smile played on his lips. He nodded, meeting your gaze with a warmth that transcended the casual camaraderie. "I will, darlin'," he affirmed, the endearment lingering in the air like a promise.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The kitchen at Jackson bustled with activity, and you were focused on the mundane task of chopping carrots for the evening's stew. Gemma, a fellow resident assisting you, had stepped outside to discuss some news with an acquaintance. The day seemed ordinary, a haze of familiar routines in the post-apocalyptic town.

But then, it happened. A deafening crash of the door bursting open shattered the tranquility, causing you to jolt in fear. Instantly, you were transported back in time, your mind torn from the kitchen and thrust into a nightmare you thought you'd escaped.

In an instant, you weren't in Jackson anymore. Instead, you found yourself in that dreadful place, that sinister basement that still haunted your darkest memories. It was as if the chains that once bound your ankles were clinking and dragging across the worn wooden floor again, just as they had back then. The echoes of your fellow captives' whimpers and cries resonated in your ears, the cacophony of despair down the hall of that wretched basement.

The room seemed to whirl around you, and a frantic panic welled up inside, a chilling flood of memories surging through your mind like an unstoppable tide. It was as if the past, a nightmare you believed you had left behind, had come crashing back into your reality. 

Your throat constricted, and tears welled in your eyes, blurring the faces of the people and the clatter of the fallen knife in the kitchen. You couldn't bear it any longer. You couldn't pretend that everything was okay. You couldn't ignore the haunting echoes of the past any longer.

Without a second thought, you dashed past the bewildered onlookers in the kitchen, their voices fading into a distant, indistinct hum. Your pounding footsteps carried you through the dining hall and out into the crisp, autumn air.

Outside, you continued to run, propelled by an inexplicable urge to escape. The scene before you spun as you sprinted past, driven by an overwhelming need to distance yourself from the nightmarish memories that had clawed their way back to the surface.

Reaching the stables, you sought refuge by pressing your trembling hand against the cool, aged wood of the railing. It was a familiar anchor in this moment of turmoil, offering some semblance of support as your chest heaved, each breath drawn in ragged gasps. Your other hand clung to your racing heart as if to prevent it from leaping out of your chest.

Overwhelmed by emotions too powerful to contain, you eventually collapsed to your knees on the straw-strewn ground of the stables. There, amid the scents of hay, horses, and leather, you allowed yourself to succumb to the tidal wave of anguish. It was a cathartic release, an outpouring of pent-up pain, as you wept for the horrors of the past and for the insidious trauma that still gripped your very soul. The weight of the past was crushing, and a foreboding sense of its unending presence gnawed at you.

Amid the silent stables, in the hushed serenity of the autumn afternoon, your sorrow reverberated through the air. The horses nearby snorted and shifted, sensing your distress. Through your blurry vision, you made out the form of your own horse, Spirit, a palomino, whinnying and restlessly pawing the ground. Even he could perceive your distress.

With a heavy heart, you surrendered to the overwhelming emotions, curling into yourself. You buried your head in your arms, seeking refuge from the maelstrom within.

Time was elusive in that moment of vulnerability, and you couldn't gauge how long you remained in that cocoon of pain. It was the gentle touch of someone's hand on your shoulder that finally roused you from your anguish. Startled, you jolted and flinched backward, your tear-soaked eyes locking onto the familiar figure before you. 

It was Joel. He knelt on the stable floor, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His hands were lifted in a gesture of surrender, a silent assurance that he meant no harm. His voice, as gruff and comforting as ever, reached out to you with reassurance, "Hey, sweetheart, it's just me. Nothin's gonna hurt'cha."

You felt yourself wrapping your arms around Joel in a vulnerable moment as if motivated by an unsaid desire for comfort rather than condemnation. He hesitated for an instant, but then he threw his powerful arms around you and held you close to his chest. Tears poured easily into his flannel, his hold's warmth providing a haven from the cold.

His hand moved with a soothing rhythm on the small of your back, a gesture meant to calm the storm raging within you. In that quiet corner of the stables, amidst hay and the comforting scent of horses, you let out the pain that had long been buried.

Word had traveled through the residents about the outburst you experienced, reaching Maria's ears. Concern etched on her face, she went to check on you, only to discover your broken state in Joel's embrace on the stable floor. A shared look between Maria and Joel conveyed an understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the solace he provided. Without a word, Maria nodded in appreciation before quietly walking away, leaving you in the tender care of Joel's comforting arms.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Funny how it all fades away, the chaos of the world and the turmoil within, the very moment you surrender to Joel's arms. It's as if the universe aligns with the comforting embrace, reshaping the way it spins. You find yourself rearranged, your mind shifting, holding on a little tighter in the safety of your old age.

Your past, a fragile tapestry of pain, remains untold, hidden away from prying eyes. No one had ever asked, and the memories were not something you carried with pride.

Before you knew it, tears had given way to exhaustion, and you had surrendered to the solace Joel provided, falling into a peaceful slumber in his arms. Joel, unable to disturb your tranquil rest, gathered the strength to lift you with a gentle grace. Carrying you across the farmhouse they called home, he navigated the familiar halls with the kind of care one reserves for something precious.

In his bedroom, he gently laid you down on the bed, tucking you in with a blanket. You slept soundly, undisturbed by the world outside. Closing the door with a soft click, Joel rested his head against the wood, his tired eyes reflecting the weight of concern.

A voice sliced through the quiet, shattering Joel's contemplation. "Watcha hidin' in there?" Ellie's words caught him off guard, and he jumped, a whispered curse escaping him, "Fuck! Christ, kid, you almost gave me a damn heart attack."

Ellie leaned against the doorframe, her eyes studying Joel's worn expression. "Who's in there?" she asked, her curiosity tinged with concern.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his grizzled hair as he said your name, "She needed someone, kid. Don't worry, she's asleep now." He could see the questions forming in Ellie's eyes, and he continued, "She didn't need to be alone, not tonight."

Ellie's gaze softened, her understanding silently conveyed. "Need any help?" she offered, the bond between them speaking volumes in the unspoken connection.

Joel shook his head. "Nah, I got it covered. Get some rest, Ellie."

As Ellie retreated to her space in the garage, Joel turned back to the closed door, a silent vigil for the fragile peace within.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As you deeply inhaled, the scent of soft cotton sheets enveloped you, and the plush mattress cradled your form. A gentle breeze wafted through the open window, causing the curtains to sway gracefully. Blinking your eyes open, your eyebrows knit in confusion as the unfamiliar room unfolded before you, a stark contrast to the one you had meticulously crafted as your own.

As you pushed yourself up, the blanket slipped off, revealing a scene that painted a portrait of the person who occupied this space. A guitar stood propped up next to a box of records, hinting at the melodies that might have filled the room. A clock, perched on the wall above a small bookshelf adorned with a multitude of books, ticked away the moments. The window, adorned with a closet nearby, allowed soft daylight to spill into the room, casting a warm glow on the carefully curated details that made this space unique.

Exiting the bedroom, you quietly padded towards the kitchen, drawn by the inviting aroma of breakfast and a faint hum in the air. As you entered, Joel came into view, focused on the morning task of preparing a meal. You said his name, but he tilted his head to the side, as if catching a subtle sound in the stillness. Eventually, he turned around, and a small smile graced his face, revealing the hint of a dimple.

"Oh, you're awake. Good mornin', darlin'. How'd ya sleep?" Joel greeted, his eyes warm and the kitchen bathed in the aroma of breakfast. The worn, well-loved kitchen table held evidence of countless meals, the scent of brewing coffee enveloping the space, and a charming clutter of ingredients spoke of a morning routine crafted by familiarity and care.

“I… I’m–”

“Before you start to apologize for shit that you can’t control, don’t,” Joel interjected, a wry smile on his lips.

Deciding it was too early for arguments, you settled for a small nod, and Joel mirrored it with an agreeing one, “Alright, good.”

You began, “Uh, then I should… uh, see myself out then um–”

Joel shook his head, “Not with an empty stomach, you’re not.”

“But I–”

“Let me take care of you, please?” Joel's request carried a certain weight, and you found it hard to resist. Politely nodding, you ventured, “Is there anything I could help with?”

Joel shook his head, “Just have a seat over there by the dining table.” You complied, the chair scraping against the floor before you settled, observing Joel expertly preparing a spread of plates.

The front door opened, and Ellie walked in with a bright smile upon spotting you. "Hey! You’re still here and Joel hasn’t scared you off yet?”

You began to reply, but Joel scolded Ellie, placing down plates and glasses on the table, "Ellie!"

With a sheepish smile, you told her, "Quite the opposite actually."

Ellie shot Joel a cheeky look as she stuffed her face with food, “Wow! Look at you, when did you become such a social butterfly?” Joel sighed, shaking his head, while you shared a chuckle with Ellie, finding yourself welcomed into the heartwarming banter of their unconventional family.

You three had a nice supper together in quiet companionship. Ellie finally got up from her chair and announced that she was going to hang out at Dina's apartment. Never one to pass up a chance, she gave Joel a playful glance and puckered her lips into a kissy face at him while you were busy with the dishwashing.

By the time Joel was done drying the dishes with a towel and setting them on the drying rack, you picked at the loose skin on the edges of your fingernails, nervously waiting for Joel to ask the question you knew was coming.

“Let’s go sit out at the porch and enjoy the good weather, watcha’ say darlin’?” Joel asks and you bring yourself to look at him and you just nod as you follow him outside. He opens the door for you and gestures to the seat that you take, Joel moves the table around and moves his chair closer to yours.

You inhale deeply, finding solace in the delicate dance of silence and the caress of a spring breeze that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“Have ya talked to anybody?” Joel's voice breaks the quiet, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, a mixture of curiosity and kindness in his eyes.

“What?” you respond, caught off guard by the sudden question.

“Y’know, made some friends around town?” Joel elaborates gently.

“Are you asking if I have friends?” Your quizzical tone hangs in the air, and Joel huffs, “Well, you ain’t answerin’ the question, honey.”

A sigh escapes you as you weigh the words in your mind. Finally, you admit, “I like being alone.”

“Must be why you’re talkin’ to me so much,” Joel remarks with a smirk.

You meet his gaze, the warm sun highlighting the depths of his brown eyes as he looks at you. Shaking your head, you say, “That’s why I knew you were different. Because, for the first time ever, I wanted someone else’s company more than my own.” The vulnerability in your words hangs between you, suspended in the soft glow of the sun.

Joel's weathered hand envelops yours, a gesture that carries the weight of shared pain. "I’ve had 'em, the um, panic attacks," he admits, his voice a low murmur that echoes the haunting specter of those moments. "Feels like all the air in your lungs is gone, and you begin to feel like you’re drownin’.”

“I see her sometimes,” Joel continues distantly, his gaze lost in the depths of memory. You wait, the air thick with unspoken sorrow. “Sarah, my daughter. I lost her on outbreak day. She was only twelve.”

Your eyes well up, and you squeeze his hand in silent solidarity. "I'm sorry, Joel."

Joel shifts his gaze to his broken watch, a relic that marks the day and time when his world shattered when he cradled Sarah in his arms as she bled out.

“I got Ellie now, and she’s…” Joel trails off, the weight of his feelings for Ellie impossible to articulate fully. She's his everything, the reason to press on in a world that often feels desolate.

“I know,” you say, nodding in understanding.

“Talkin’ about it helps, y’know. Learned the hard way, almost lost her.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as the raw vulnerability in Joel's words resonates with your own pain. “I don’t want to just survive anymore,” you gasp, the ache in your chest palpable. “It hurts, Joel.”

“What happened out there, darlin’?” Joel asks, his voice breaking.

With a sob, you reply, “Nothing good. Nothin’ good, Joel.”

Then, the floodgates open, and you begin to tell an account laced with patches of short-lived joy and a frantic search for any opportunity at a better life. You spoke about the day of the breakout, the terror of seeing your parents die, and the passing of your siblings. You were taken prisoner by deranged and vicious raiders who took you to a basement filled with the deafening screams of violence.

You consider yourself lucky, spared the physical torment, yet the anticipation of it looms, a shadow of dread. "They should've just killed me then and there," you choke out, laying bare the scars that time can't erase.

A surge of anger courses through Joel's veins, an incandescent rage that echoes through his chest, resonating in the very marrow of his bones. The simmering heat in his head intensifies, a visceral response to the mere thought of anyone causing you harm. Every protective instinct in him flares up, urging him to mount a horse and embark on a ruthless pursuit, to track down those who dared lay a hand on you and unleash a torrent of violence upon them.

Yet, a rational part of Joel prevails. He recognizes the urgency of your need, the necessity for his presence here and now. Despite the molten anger that simmers beneath his skin, he restrains the impulse to act immediately. For your sake, he remains seated, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he clenches his teeth, locking away the fiery wrath that threatens to consume him. It's a fierce battle within, between the protective warrior ready for vengeance and the caring soul determined to offer solace. In this moment, he chooses the latter, for you.

The weight of your dreams presses upon you, vivid and haunting, every detail etched into your consciousness. "I've been remembering my dreams, more vivid than they've ever been, every detail and little thing. Every time I think about going back there to save the others I just… I can’t,” you admit, the guilt seeping through every fiber of your being. Joel kneels in front of you, a pillar of support, placing his hand on your knee.

“Let’s go inside, sweetheart,” Joel suggests, his voice a gentle anchor. You nod, allowing him to guide you back inside. Both of you settle on the couch, and Joel scoops you into his arms, a comforting embrace that shields you from the harshness of your own thoughts.

Sniffling, you pour out your heart, “I know I should have gone back for them, but I saw the opportunity, took it, and fought. I fought hard, and then I ran.”

Joel hums, a soothing melody that allows your tears to flow freely. “I thought… I was okay with the idea of dying, right there, in the snow, and then–”

“I found you,” Joel interjects, his voice a soft murmur.

You look up at him, eyes filled with uncertainty. “You found me?”

Joel's voice drops to a low register, his gaze steady on yours. “I found you during the patrol, freezin’ to death. Thought I didn’t make it in time.” The admission lingers in the air, a symbol of the frailty of beating the odds and the silent connection that kept you from falling apart.

You both stay quiet as you try to calm yourself down while Joel holds you, unable to form any response to the revelation that Joel saved you. You know you’re supposed to be grateful, but at the same time, you don’t feel that way. So you settle closer to him and Joel squeezes you a little tighter as if he knows what you are thinking, and there is no judgment, just pure empathy and understanding.

Eventually, you settle down and softly say, “I don’t know what to do,” Joel rubs a soothing hand up and down your back, “We’ll figure it out, darlin’.”

Then for the first time in years, that's when you could finally breathe.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As the seasons wove their tapestry of change, so did the fabric of your life, threading moments of lightness and warmth. Having shared the weight of your past with Joel, he became a steadfast presence, an anchor in the shifting tides of your existence. Ellie, too, became a companion in the shared journey of growth.

On a particular day, amidst the vibrant greenery of the greenhouse, you found yourself potting plants and tending to the garden alongside Ellie and another resident named Tris. The air was filled with the earthy scent of soil and the symphony of laughter as you engaged in the simple joy of gardening.

Joel, clad in his worn yet beloved flannel, entered the greenhouse, his eyes inadvertently catching the scene of camaraderie and playfulness. He watched, a subtle smile gracing his lips, as you and Ellie exchanged sweet banter, a dance of words that resonated with laughter.

Ellie couldn't resist a playful pun, and you responded with a burst of laughter, the sound harmonizing with the rustle of leaves and the hum of nature. The moment encapsulated the genuine connection, the shared language of laughter, that had blossomed between you and Ellie.

There had never been a label given to the unwritten relationship between Joel and you. It was a wordless understanding, manifested in the tender attention he paid you and the evenings you spent finding comfort in the round of his arms. There was a promise in the air as he held you tight, "I'll keep you safe, sweetheart." The words were genuine and reverberated through the unexplored areas of your connection, a song of love and safety that didn't require any further explanation.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The morning proceeded as usual, and the break of dawn illuminated Jackson's sanctuary with a hopeful glow. There was a small party of new arrivals, an expected but unusual sight, and the customary welcoming committee was called upon to assist them in becoming adjusted to the way of life in the community.

You and a few others started the annual task of welcoming the newcomers into the communal room that serves several purposes. A mixture of wonder and expectation pervaded the air as the newcomers experienced Jackson's regularity and warmth—a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the post-apocalyptic world.

You did your duty without thinking as the new faces moved into the shared dining room, where a shared meal was waiting. But at the doorway, something stopped you cold, a pause that went against the normal flow of the greeting.

And then, you saw him.

Recognition struck like a bolt, the back of his head triggering a flood of memories—the cadence of his voice, the grimy shirt clinging to his frame, the dirt-encrusted hands that bore the stains of a past you had fought hard to escape. Time seemed to fracture as you stood there, immobilized, your mouth agape and dry, eyes widened in sheer terror.

You could feel the weight in the pit of your stomach, a concrete representation of the eerie memories of abuse and torment. This could not be real. He was not allowed to be here, breaking into the safe sanctuary you had taken refuge in. Previously perceived as a haven of security, the shared area now seemed to evoke images of suppressed anxieties and bad dreams.

His eyes lock onto yours, and a malevolent grin creeps across his face, revealing a set of teeth that seem to glisten with wicked intent. The sight sends shivers down your spine, and an overwhelming sense of nausea threatens to consume you. In that moment, Maria's reassuring grip on your shoulder serves as a lifeline amidst the storm of dread that surges within you.

Her voice cuts through the dissonance in your mind, “You okay? You look unwell,”, her concern accentuated by the chaos unfolding around you. Yet, it's her inquiry that acts as the catalyst for your unraveling. A surge of panic propels you out of the scene, your movements fueled by a desperate need to escape the looming threat.

The world blurs around you as you sprint through the town, a disorienting juxtaposition of familiar faces and judgmental gazes. The echoes of a haunting déjà vu accompany your frantic run, amplifying the weight of your terror. Tears stream down your face, and your breaths come in ragged gasps as your throat constricts, a relentless grip tightening around your airways.

Staggering, you struggle to maintain composure, but the relentless onslaught of fear takes its toll. The corners of your vision blur, and in a secluded moment, away from the prying eyes of the community, your body rebels. The gut-wrenching sensation overwhelms you, and you bend over, retching as the trauma resurfaces in both memory and physical reaction. The ground beneath you bears witness to the aftermath of a confrontation with the haunting specter of your past.

As you slide down the cold, unforgiving wall, a shiver courses through your body, amplifying the stark reality of the present moment. The cool surface offers little solace as you fold into yourself, desperately clutching your knees as if they could shield you from the impending storm.

The air around you thickens with a stifling heaviness, a cruel reminder of the past that refuses to release its grip. Curling into a defensive ball, you hug yourself tight, as though this simple act could ward off the encroaching darkness threatening to consume you.

With your head buried in your arms, the world outside the fortress of your limbs becomes a distant, distorted canvas. The minutes unravel, each tick of the clock echoing the pulsating rush of blood in your ears. The simplicity of the moment clashes with the complexity of the emotions swirling within.

Seventeen again, caught in the clutches of an awful, horrible place that has become an indelible scar etched into the tapestry of your existence. The pain is not merely a memory but a living, breathing entity, clawing its way back into your present, rendering the passage of time meaningless.

The walls around you seem to close in, their echoes carrying the weight of your history. It's a stark reminder that the past, no matter how desperately you've tried to escape it, remains an unwelcome companion, haunting the recesses of your soul.

You feel the air thicken as he draws near, his presence casting an ominous shadow that seems to devour the feeble rays of sunlight. A cold shiver races down your spine, a chilling prelude to the encroaching darkness. His footsteps echo like ominous drumbeats, each one resonating with an unsettling promise.

"You thought you could escape, huh?" The words slither from his lips like venom, his voice a malevolent symphony that pierces through the ambient sounds of the surroundings. His gaze, filled with a malevolent gleam, locks onto yours, trapping you in a macabre dance.

Despite your mind screaming at your limbs to flee, a paralyzing fear roots you to the spot. The weight of your past sins, haunting and relentless, manifests in the figure before you. His form, etched with the scars of your shared history, now looms with a menacing intent.

"Did you really think you could hide here? With these people?" His tone drips with disdain as he gestures to the community around you. The tendrils of his threat extend beyond mere words, reaching into the very fabric of your newfound sanctuary.

Your breath catches as his words morph into a menacing promise. "I can take it all away, you know. Everything you've found here." His gaze shifts to the people you've come to love, their laughter and camaraderie now tainted by the looming specter of his return.

Nathan. A name, almost lost to the recesses of memory, surfaces in your mind – a cruel reminder of the scars he etched upon your soul. In this ominous confrontation, the echoes of your past reverberate with the sinister intention of reclaiming what he believes belongs to him.

Nathan's grip tightened around your arm, and you let out a scream, thrashing wildly to break free. As your nails clawed at his face, Nathan spat out a curse, "You fuckin’ bitch, I’ll kill you!"

In desperation, you tried to stand, but he grabbed your ankle, dragging you mercilessly across the floor. Your knee aimed at his face was thwarted, and his hands closed around your throat. The air in your lungs dwindled, and you kicked and screamed in a futile attempt to escape.

Feeling the switchblade in your pocket, you willed yourself to grab it. Flipping it open, you cried out as you stabbed him in the neck. Joel stormed towards you, anger etched across his face, but before he could intervene, you pulled out the switchblade, attacking Nathan with a frenzy of stabs.

"Stay the hell away from me!" you cried, each word punctuated by a vicious thrust of the blade. Tears streamed down your face as you unleashed your rage on the man who haunted your nightmares.

Joel, realizing the danger, moved swiftly. He pulled you away from the blood-soaked scene, shushing you and grabbing your wrist. The switchblade fell from your grip, staining the grass, and Joel held you close, shielding you from the aftermath of the violent confrontation.

Amidst the chaos, Joel's voice cut through, reassuring and protective. "Easy, sweetheart, easy. You're safe now." The echoes of your cries mingled with the distant sounds of Maria, Tommy, and others dealing with Nathan.

Maria's gaze shifted towards you, concern etched across her features. She turned to Joel and gave a decisive order, "Go and make sure she’s okay." Joel's response was a firm nod, an acknowledgment of his responsibility.

There was a hint of irritation in Joel's eyes as he escorted you home with an arm around your waist. It was an aging-related displeasure with himself for not being fast enough. But he was driven by desire to take care of making sure you were safe, and he brought you home with a strong sense of protectiveness. The atmosphere was tight, with echoes of Maria's instruction that spoke of the need to protect you from the horror that had recently occurred.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

In the quiet confines of the bathroom, Joel tenderly cleans the cuts and blood on your skin. The sterile scent of antiseptic hangs in the air as he carefully tends to your wounds. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh memories that still lingered.

Joel glances at you while he works, capturing your attention. Through the difficulties you've undergone together, you've built a mutual understanding and a silent bond. The air changes, as trust and frailty meld together at that one instant.

Joel stops and meets your eyes for a brief period. There is a tangible tension between you that none of you can deny. The air seems heated. He places the first aid kit aside and reaches for your face with his hands.

Without a word, Joel leans in, closing the gap between you. The touch of his lips against yours is a gentle reassurance, a promise that you're not alone. In that tender kiss, there's a quiet acknowledgment of the strength you've found in each other.

As the kiss lingers, the weight of the past starts to lift. It's a moment of solace, a testament to resilience and the possibility of healing. Joel pulls away slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

And in the quiet bathroom, amid the wounds of the past, you find a newfound feeling of hope, grounded in the connection established through endurance and the compassion of Joel's care. Joel smiles softly and says, "You deserve to be happy, darlin'. Let me take care of you."

As Joel continues to care for your wounds, a sense of calm settles within the small confines of the bathroom. The sting of antiseptic is a tangible reminder of the present, but you find solace in the fact that Joel is here, offering comfort and care.

He finishes cleaning the last cut, his hands lingering for a moment before he retreats. There's an unspoken understanding between you, a silent agreement that this moment marks a turning point. The ghosts of the past may linger, but the present holds a promise of healing.

Joel's gruff voice breaks the quiet, "You're a tough one, you know that?" A hint of a smile plays on his lips, a rare sight that warms your heart. You manage a small smile in return, grateful for the unexpected bond that has grown between you.

Leaning back against the bathroom counter, Joel lets out a sigh. "You've been through hell, and here you are, facing it head-on. I've seen folks crumble under less. You're stronger than you think."

The atmosphere shifts as Joel's gaze meets yours again. There's a question lingering in the air, one that goes beyond words. You realize that this moment is a crossroads, a chance to choose your path forward.

"You're not alone in this," Joel reassures, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that transcends the scars of the past. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

In that moment, you feel a surge of courage, a newfound strength that emanates from within. The pain of the past begins to lose its grip as you accept Joel's support. The familiarity of the bathroom transforms into a sanctuary, a symbol of resilience and the possibility of rebuilding.

As you rise from the seat, Joel watches you with a quiet intensity. You get closer as the uncovered pull between you becomes stronger. This is a turning point in your life when you realize that you are now in control of the two worlds you have battled to survive and are determined to rebuild.

Joel's weathered hands find yours, a comforting embrace that symbolizes the connection you've forged. The tension that once lingered now gives way to a shared understanding, a silent agreement to face the future together.

In the hushed bathroom, among the fragments of the past, you lean in, closing the distance between you and Joel. The kiss that follows is a testament to resilience, an affirmation of the strength found in vulnerability. It forms a bridge between the hope of the next day and the scars of yesterday as it becomes deeper. 

Joel pulls away, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. Instead, he finds a glimmer of determination, a spark that signals a new beginning. With a whispered promise, he says, "We'll face whatever comes our way, together."

With Joel right there beside you, you walk into that tiny, quiet room, ready to tackle whatever the world throws your way. Strangely enough, the weight of the world feels lighter with him around. No complaints from you—just a sense of readiness for whatever comes next.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

End Notes:

tbh, I blacked out while writing this--- so UH if there are any inconsistencies let me know! :>

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x female reader #ethereal writes #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader masterlist

[lacedinweb22]

Knight in Glitching Armor

(Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 4 prev part

(Another flashback in between part 1 and 2 of the chapter “Drunk and Crushing”!!! This chapter is important to that storyline :D)

Summary: After your physics lab ends later than expected, you walk home alone rushing to meet up with your best friend, Miguel. When you’re attacked in an alleyway, a tall, mysterious figure with holographic armor, saves you.

TW: attempted SA, mugging, mauling, beating, blood.

*to skip the attempted SA, start at the paragraph with the violet colored beginning*

My lab ended late thanks to a couple of my group members messing around and spoiling our lab results one million times before they were deemed acceptable. The rest of my group agreed to go to a bar after, but I promised Mig we would watch a horror movie at my apartment after my lab. He said he would be interning late tonight at Alchemax, so I walked off of campus alone. It was dark and uncomfortably quiet. The city was especially lonely tonight. I knew Miguel would come pick me up if he sensed I was in danger or in this case, walking alone, but I didn’t want to be a bother especially while he worked; a text would suffice.

Me: I’m sorry Mig my lab ended a bit late :( I’ll be there super soon. Could you text and stay on the phone with me?

…

Fuck.

I looked down at the chat, waiting anxiously for him to respond. The text remained on delivered.

My gut instincts kicked in, which manifested in the echoes of Miguel's voice in my head: “Don’t walk home alone, Y/N, I’m serious, especially at night. Don’t be annoying, just call me, and I’ll be there.” Yeah, yeah whatever.

I sped walked by the sketchy alley I always avoided. A tall man stood by the edge, leaning against the brick wall. I picked up my pace, when I felt him pull me back by my shoulder. “What the fuck?! Let go,” I screamed, pushing him off of me. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the alley. “Come on, I just want to talk,” he hissed through gritted teeth. I screamed, and pulled my wrist hard away from him.

He ripped my school bag off of my shoulder, then ripped my jacket open, pulling me down to the floor. He dropped onto his knees, now in between my legs. “You fucker! HELP! GET OFF!” I kicked his crotch and punched him in the face. He groaned and dropped his face into my neck, “You’re going to be fucking sorry for that,” he grunted, furiously. “Please, no,” I breathed out, tears streaming down my face.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a figure jump down from the side of the building as I fought with the man. He pounced onto the man, pulling him off of me and onto the asphalt. I stood up, then backed away, stumbling back against the brick wall. He beat him into the ground, relentlessly throwing his fists at him. I watched in horror, failing to catch my breath.

He hovered over him, tearing the man up, mauling and growling. His back was huge and muscular, flexing as he demolished his prey. His suit was dark midnight blue and blood red, glitching and glowing as he moved. Is that him… Spider—?

His mask suddenly glitched below his nose, exposing his fangs, his mouth ready to bite the man’s neck. He turned abruptly to the side, and looked up at me; his mask glitched back closed.

He slashed the man’s throat fiercely, blood spraying onto him and the brick wall beside him. He slashed the man a final time, leaving a huge bloody gash across his body, spilling through his clothes, as he immediately stood up from the momentum of his final blow. He took a deep breath then looked back up at me, then back at the body.

I dropped to the floor, backing away in horror. “Is that Spider-man?” I whispered to myself. No shit. “Are—are you…?” I called out. He looked up at me slowly, nodding, clearly expecting what I was asking. He still hovered over the man’s dead body. I stood up, pulling myself together, shivering from fear and the cold.

His deep voice began, “are you… okay?” He stood up; he was so tall, almost the same height as Miguel.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” I whimpered looking down at the bruises on my wrists, then lifting my skirt up to reveal even more bruises on my thighs. “That was— I don’t know,” I adjusted my clothes and straightened myself out, trying to process everything that had just happened. “I’m going to go home… thank you, umm Spider-Man,” I muttered, slowly walking away. I felt the tears stream down my face. My stomach ached, and my body felt sore and exhausted, like I had just run a marathon.

“Wait— Y/N, I can walk you home,” he called out, “if you want, only if you feel comfortable… with that.”

I hesitated then took a deep breath. “I just watched you fucking mutilate and murder a man, and now— now what? You want to walk me home? I don’t— wait, how do you know my name?” I replied, quickly. He paused then replied, “My mask has… face recognition,” he said, pointing to his masked eyes. “Oh, cool, great,” I replied sarcastically, nodding.

He tilted his head at me, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you wanted me to watch him mug and murder you, then you know, just let the rapist live and continue walking freely around Nueva York!” he exclaimed, pacing, his hands up in the air. I rolled my eyes.

“I– I don’t usually murder, but this was… different. He was attacking you,” he said, firmly, looking down at me. “I know, okay? I fucking know he deserved it! I just— that was a lot. You slashed his throat!” I cried out, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m… sorry okay? But you shouldn’t have been here, and god damn it! You shouldn’t have seen this, or seen me like this,” he exclaimed frustrated and pacing. I stood across the alley from him, observing his emotions under that mask. “Seen you? You’re Spider-Man, right? This is how you’re supposed to be seen,” I said, confused and perhaps harshly. Seen him like this? Mig— no. Nope. His voice is too deep and he’s at Alchemax working late. He wasn’t the one to save me tonight.

“I meant— I just, I protect and I try to do what’s right, and here, that meant ending a predator, but yeah, sure, see it that way,” he said, sarcastically. He looked up at me, then down at his bloody claws, “Yeah, I guess this is how I’m supposed to be seen,” he muttered.

“Fuck, I know alright, you’re right. Thank you,” I replied, backing off.

“Don’t thank me. Let’s just head to your apartment,” he muttered. I nodded and adjusted my ripped jacket over me. We began to walk towards my apartment complex, which wasn’t too far.

“Why are you out so late? And alone?” He asked. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me or trying to distract me from the traumatic events that just occurred. “Late class. I go to Nueva York University,” I replied, pointing back to the huge campus buildings. I continued, “And… my lab ended super late, and the rest of my group decided to go drink, but I have plans with a friend,” He nodded, “I see. How do you like it there? Are the students friendly?” He asked, softly. “I actually really love it. And yeah, for the most part they are. There are always going to be pretentious assholes but no importa, I’m just focusing on school, and the people I actually value,” I shrugged. “Who do you value— I mean who are your best friends? What are they like?” “Do you always ask your damsels this many questions? Is this an interview?” I asked, slightly annoyed. “Pretty much. That’s the Spider-Man rescue tax,” he shrugged. I scoffed.

“I have Jenn and Rosalynn, and… Miguel,” I replied, softly smiling at the thought of him. “You’re… smiling,” he pointed out. “Yeah, no shit, I love my friends,” I responded, quickly.

“Is Miguel… your boyfriend?” He asked, slowly.

“No, no he’s not,” “Wow, so defensive, I’m just asking,” he chuckled. “He’s my best friend, he’s really important to me, you know, and I don’t want to ruin things.” “How could you ruin things?” “By telling him— by wanting anything more,” I responded, hugging myself and looking down as we walked in the cold.

“How do you know he doesn’t want the same?” he muttered.

“I don’t know, I guess I just don’t see why he would,” I muttered. Why am I having a full on therapy session with Spider-Man? It feels oddly natural though, like I’ve known him for years. Oh god, I’m delusional. The trauma is getting to me.

“God, you’re good, Spider-Man. You should go into therapy, you’re clearly good at this.”

“I just care, it’s part of my job,” he responded. “Hmph, I can see that.”

We arrived at my apartment complex.

We entered the lobby and walked to the elevator. He was so tall beside me, having to duck when we entered doorways. “You must never take elevators, huh? Since you, you know, have those red web thingies,” I said, pointing to his hands. I pressed my floor number.

“I mean, I exist amongst normal people too so I kind of have to function like everyone else to blend in,” he said, pressing the close-door button. I nodded.

The elevator arrived at my floor, opening to reveal two old women waiting their turn. They both looked up at Spider-Man in shock, then down at me. I nervously smiled, then walked past them. “Good evening, ladies,” Spider-Man said to the ladies, who both giggled and said goodnight back.

He followed after me to my door. I stood in front of it, fidgeting with my keys as he looked down at me. “So… I guess this is goodnight and goodbye?” I said. He nodded, “I— I’m sorry about tonight… but take this as a lesson,” I rolled my eyes, interrupting his stream of thought. His mask’s gaze softened, “Just don’t walk alone at night again, please. There’s been too much going on, Y/N. Wouldn’t want to run into you again,” he said dryly, awkwardly nudging me. “Hmph got it,” I scoffed, breaking a smile. Hilarious. I unlocked the door then went inside, lingering in the doorway to say goodbye. “Thank you for being there. Goodnight, Spider-Man,” I said, looking up at him. He nodded, his face hard to read under the mask. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams,” he said, softly. I closed the door slowly. I need therapy.

✮⋆｡°✩ ✮

next part

taglist: @wingedturtledream @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @infirebaby @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @qundadedingle11 @waiif-uwu @punpuun @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @00macy2022 @acehyacinth @thetoetickler @kaqua @qiaipia @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @inafantasyworld10 @imnotyourbcbe

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o hara #spider verse #atsv x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara imagine

[babybluebex]

I LOVE your ‘you still remain’ emmet mini series it’s sooooooo good! Don’t know if you’re taking requests but what would happen if on the journey to the island they are attacked by a rogue group and maybe emmett has to save y/n from some near SA ??? Emmett just has such “don’t touch her” protective vibes!!

yes i can! sorry this took so long to write and that it's so short, i hope you like it anyway! tw for attempted sexual assualt (and a little unwanted touching), gun violence

Your steps were quiet on the creaky deck, stepping slowly and carefully. You tried to avoid splinters in your bare feet as you walked, and you looked over your shoulder to ensure that Emmett was still behind you. He sure was, stepping just as carefully as you were, on high alert for monsters, his rifle shouldered easily, as if an extension of his body. He looked hardened and rogue-ish, the apocalypse having aged him and steadied his nerves. It did that to everyone, even you— before that day, you were young, working at the same mechanic's shop that Emmett did. You only worked the front desk while he actually did work on the cars, but you were familiar enough with each other that, after the aliens came down, he took you into his family unit and protected you. And then, after Norah... Your own family had been eliminated on the first day, along with Henry and Adam, and you and Emmett were all that either of you had left.

Suddenly, there was an extra-loud creak from one of the boats anchored at the dock, and your heart seized as Emmett easily trained his rifle at the boat. You stopped your creeping forward, tensed as you awaited the clicking that meant that a monster was imminent, but something far worse awaited you. You froze fully as a man came from the shadows of the boat, and you clocked the dagger he held the instant you saw him. Fear nearly killed you— humans in this world were worse than the monsters— and you took a hazardous step backwards, towards Emmett.

"Hey," Emmett whispered gruffly, trying to stay quiet enough to not bring any monsters to you. "We don't want no trouble."

"I don't either," the man whispered. "What's in your bags?"

"We have food," you said quickly, before Emmett could say anything. You did have food, sure, though not a lot, but surely at least a granola bar would keep the guy from using that dagger on either of you. You slowly began to pull off your backpack in search of said granola bar, but the man waved his knife dismissively.

"Don't want any of that," the man murmured.

"What do you want?" Emmett asked lowly, and the man stepped off the boat and onto the dock, coming too close for comfort. You stepped backwards again, closer to Emmett, and the man quickly lunged before you were sure what had happened. He grabbed you, surprising you and making you drop your bag with a thud, and you kept in your instinctual scream of fear as you felt the cold glint of the knife touch your neck.

You had never seen Emmett look so startled, and he trained the rifle on the man at your side, trying to control his shaking hands. You breathed heavily, trying not to whimper and cry, although tears of fear welled in your eyes, and the man grumbled in your ear. "Pretty little thing," he said, his eyes trained on Emmett as he toyed with you. "Is this your husband?"

You shook your head, digging your fingernails hard into your palms.

"Boyfriend?" the man asked. "You ever fuck him?"

"Leave her alone," Emmett said harshly, maybe a little too loud. The lapping of the waves against the dock and boats and shore provided a little ambient noise that allowed you to speak at almost a normal level (what was normal anymore, though?), but his refusal to shout was harrowing.

"You wanna fuck her?" the man asked. "I bet you think about it, a tasty little thing like this... Can't even see this without thinkin' about what I wanna do."

"Em," you whimpered, finally allowing yourself to make noise. "Help."

Emmett's eyes watched as the knife trailed from your throat down your front, the curved point of it catching on your shirt and ripping it a bit. Your heart skipped a little as the man holding you hostage reached up and pawed at your breasts, feeling them and squeezing them, and you tilted your chin up as you tried to zone out. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you would wake up at any moment, safe in your little factory basement. Emmett would come to you and cover your mouth to keep you from crying too loud, and he would hold you and rock you until you quit, and everything would be okay.

"Don't you touch her," Emmett said, and the rifle rattled in his hands, shaking with anger. You knew his dilemma; the shot wasn't clear enough for him to take. You were too close to the man, any shot that Emmett took could easily be skewed into you. And you knew that Emmet wouldn't even attempt a shot if there was a chance that he could hurt you. "Get your fucking hands off of her."

"Or what?" the man asked. "I might just take her with me. You aren't using her; I will."

"Em!" you yelped. Panic filled you and you felt screams bubbling in your throat, and Emmett shushed you quickly.

Before you knew what was happening, the sound of the rifle being shot out echoed around the dockside, and the man slumped off of you for just long enough to allow you to fall from his arms and run back to Emmett. You heaved breaths as you collided with his warm body, and he dropped his gun to hold you tightly. You gasped and sobbed into his neck, whining and crying but trying to keep quiet enough to not attract a monster, and Emmett stroked your back. "It's okay, honey," he whispered. "I've got you, baby."

"Em," you whimpered. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah, honey, he's dead," Emmett whispered. "Don't look at him, you don't wanna see it. I've got you, honey, you're safe."

"I-I'm sorry—" you started, but Emmett interrupted you.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "Some random creep attacked you, you shouldn't be sorry about that. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you good enough to keep him off of you."

"Y-You did everything you could," you whispered. "Fuck, Emmett..."

"I'm right here, honey," he whispered. "But we gotta move quick, something definitely heard that gunshot."

#yeah def writing more of this #bex answers #the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf #emmett a quiet place #emmett a quiet place x reader #emmett aqp #emmett aqp x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

[marksbear]

hello!

Could I maybe request a male reader x Aaron hotchner where r is a total ball of sunshine and the complete opposite of Aaron but he use to be in the army and as a result he lost his arm, so he has a prosthetic. basically, he’s meeting Aaron’s teammates for the first time and their shocked that Aaron is dating someone so sweet and are again shocked when they find out he use to be a military man? Cause he doesn’t seem like the type considering his personality? thank you :D

Hey Anon! Sorry for me taking absolutely too long to post this. You probably even forgot that you requested this.💀

AARON HOTCHNER X ex SOLIDER MALE READER

Aaron waits on the edge of the bed in deep thought while watching his boyfriend get dressed. "Aaron? Are you okay?" Y/n asks turning his body around facing his boyfriend.

"Yes. I'm just worried, but it's nothing." Aaron answers watching Y/n walk closer to him. "Is it about the dinner?" "Yes, but--" "Shhh. Don't worry about the dinner. It's nothing to stress about." Y/n says giving Aaron a light kiss on the forehead.

"But--" "No buts Aar. We have each other, so there's nothing going to be wrong at the dinner if we have each other back. So stop sitting on your ass and let's go!" Y/n cuts him off again before pulling Aaron off the bed.

"I'll go get jack!" Y/n tells him before walking out the room to go get the boy.

Aaron watches Y/n leave and takes a deep breath helping himself relax. "It's gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine." Aaron mumbles to himself before getting his keys and walks down stairs to the front door.

"Y/n! Make sure your arm is charged. You don't want it dying in the middle of dinner again." Aaron says watching Y/n come down stairs with his son in his arms. "You would never let that go." Y/n groans out rolling his eyes. "I can't it was our first date." Aaron bites back remembering how Y/n's prosthetic died right then they were gonna share their first kiss together.

"Right before I could finish the distance you pulled away like it was a mistake and I started to apologize, but you were just looking at your arm surprised. Then you look at me and say "My arm just died! What the hell!" Then we had just started at each other for a while---"

"Okay Aaron. I'm not trying to relive that humiliating moment." Y/n cuts him off with a giggle before helping jack put his shoes on.

"Everyone is ready?" Aaron asks earning a shout "yeah" from his son and a hum yes from Y/n. Aaron opens the front door letting Y/n pick up Jack and leave out the house.

Aaron looks around the house before leaving and shutting the door and locking it after him.

TIMESKIP at the restaurant.

As soon the small family reached outside the restaurant and stepped out of their car it was already an agent waiting for them. "Morgan. You didn't need to wait out here." Aaron says giving the male a small hug. "I know. I know, I just wanted to make sure you got here safe.

Jack wiggles out of Y/n's arms running to Morgan as fast as his little kid legs can carry him running into his arms hugging him. Y/n already felt out of place. Y/n watches the three of them act and his nerves begin to overcome him. Y/n wasn't scared just nervous. Derek looks over to Y/n giving him a bright smile before turning back around leading the family inside and into the restaurant.

"Found them!" Derek announces to the group who are already in their seats. All of their heads turn to greet Hotch and Jack, but with Y/n they'll give him a small smile and wave.

"Jesus..." Y/n mumbles to himself already feeling their little FBI eyes study him. "Hi everyone! Nice to meet you all." Y/n says finally deciding to act like himself shaking everyone's hand while exchanging their names. At the last agent Y/n puts his hand out smiling at them. "Hi my name is Y/n." "Penelope. Nice to meet you hun!" Penelope says with the biggest smile moving Y/n's hand out the way giving him a bone crushing hug.

The hug catches Y/n off guard a bit, but gives her a hug back with the same energy.

As everyone welcomes Y/n already treating him like family Y/n could feel someones eyes burning into his prosthetic arm. Y/n kept his prosthetic arm mostly stayed on his lap or side, but now he's flexing it showing off his "muscles." To Derek since Derek could tell Y/n was in great shape.

Y/n looks away from Derek moving his eyes to every single person on the table to figure out who the hell is staring at his arm so hard. It was Spencer. Y/n decided not to say anything only picking a fight if he voices the thoughts in his head.

Y/n begins to chat his head off with everyone. Every time he says something it would be with a smile. Y/n occasionally checks up on Aaron and Jack making sure they are comfortable and like their food. The team noticed everything about how Y/n acted his vibes were. He was such a sweet and kind person polar opposite of Aaron's cold and strict demeanor.

All the team was wondering "How the hell are these two dating." Or what Penelope is mostly thinking "How did Dark Vader and Rapunzel get together."

"Y/n, I have a personal question." Reid says catching Y/n's and the rest of the team's attention. Y/n had a burning feeling it was about his arm. A lot of people thought Y/n was spoiled and greedy for having a robotic arm. Y/n lets out a quiet sigh before saying.

"Yeah what is it?" with a smile on his face. "Why do you have a prosthetic."

"Oh well, because I lost my arm in war." Y//n answers simply knowing that he'll have to give more information. Y/n could tell everyone besides Jack and Aaron was shocked.

"What happened!" Emily asks choking on her drink a little.

"I saved some fellow soldiers. Someone had stepped on a land mine, so it was either someone take the hit or all die trying to run. I choose to the the bigger man and take it. Most would be dead or lose more than an arm, but I guess I had luck on my side that day. I got these great and cool medals for it." Y/n says still having the same smile on his face.

"But... I lost half of my stomach and some of my vision But I'm still alive and that's what it all matters."

"You don't look like and act like a military type kid." Rossi points out not trying to be rude.

"I know I get that a lot."

"Daddy! Tell us more stories!" Jack squeals happily remebering some of the kid version stories Y/n's past.

"Here we go." Aaron says with the largest smile he had in a while.

THE END

#criminal minds x male reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotch #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

[slutforsnow]

Reliving Hell

Chapter 6 :3

Summary: Someone's getting suspicious of "Easton's" identity and decides to see who he really is by seeing if he can scream

CW/TW: SA/groping, trauma response, violence, hungover

The next morning, Violent was stretching as she walked down the stairs. She had been too drunk to find Alias, so Courtney had brought her home, so nothing bad happened to her. She yawned as she pulled her hair up into some kind of style to make sure no one figured out she was a she.

"Ah, morning Vi," Courtney greeted as Violet threw on a coat just to be safe. She could never be to safe.

"Morning, Courtney," She greeted, looking around the kitchen for her boots.

"So, what you got plans for?" Court asked, setting a plate of breakfast on the table. She knew Vi had a tendency to skip breakfast when she was on a mission, but she at least wanted her best friend to eat something.

"Goin' to that ranchers place—Harry Hooker. He hired Billy, Alias, and I. Well, technically, he hired William H. Bonney, Alias, and Easton Vargough," She answered, correcting herself. Vi leaned against the tablet, using a fork to eat some of the egg and bacon on her plate. She grabbed her boots from the threshold leading into the living room, slipping them on and fixing her trousers to be over her boots.

"I should get goin'—should find Billy and group up with Alias," Vi added, grabbing her bandanna from her back pocket. She tied it around her face, securing it tightly.

"Alright, be safe Vi!!" Courtney told her as Violet left.

When Vi finally found Billy, he looked rough—like a kind of 'I'm so tired cause I had intense sex' rough.

"Hell happened to you?" Vi asked, laughing softly, grabbing his hat and fixing his hair somewhat.

"A girl; real pretty girl too from the saloon last night. Her name's Alice," Billy replied, grinning a bit before Violet put his hat back on his head.

"Oh."

Violet fought back the urge to scream; Alice slept with Billy!? Of all the people he could've slept with, he slept with her?! She shook it off, not wanting to keep the conversation on Alice going; the cunt was an all-too horrible memory for Vi to handle—especially with a hangover.

Violet fought back the urge to scream; Alice slept with Billy!? Of all the people he could've slept with, he slept with her?! She shook it off, not wanting to keep the conversation on Alice going; the cunt was an all-too horrible memory for Vi to handle—especially with a hangover.

"You ready to head to the ranch?" She asked, diffusing any questions Billy was starting to ask about why Violent had an angry look in her eyes.

"Yeah, and are you okay? You've got this... firey look in your eyes, and it's kinda scary," Billy questioned. Vi simply laughed it off, dismissing his question.

"I'm fine, knucklehead," She reassured, punching him in the arm. "Now let's go."

When the duo found Alias, the three of them made way for Harry Hooker's ranch.

Later, around maybe 3 hours after regrouping with Alias and making their way to the ranch, Violet was beginning to regret wearing 2 shirts. Did they conceal her female anatomy? Yes. Were they killing her and making her sweat to death? Yes. Was she going to suffer anyway to make sure no one found out "he" was actually a she? Very much so.

But to help her not focus on the sweltering heat, she was silently cursing out Alice. Alice was known for stealing boys back in her boarding school days—specifically boys Violet showed interest in. She never knew why Alice did it; if Violet had ever so much as said hi to another boy that wasn't Jesse, Alice or some other girl would yank them far from her. She hated it—all boys would eventually drop her as a friend and avoid her like the plague.

Eventually, it made her snap, and she started to act out, doing whatever she could to raise hell for everyone, and she thrived in it. She loved the attention and fear her other classmates had, seeing Vi cause destruction until she was expelled.

Shakin' her head, Violet squeezed her eyes shut and disrupted any memories of her boarding school days. Her chaos had been short-lived and not enough to undo the hell hole before she snapped. Sighing, she stretched, deciding to take a mild break from workin'. Sliding her smaller frame off of North, she made her way to grab some water.

She hummed to herself, grabbing a mug and lightly dunking it into the tub of water before beginning to down it after pulling her bandanna down enough to let her drink the heavenly liquid that trickled its way down her throat.

Meanwhile, Billy was helpin', the other cowboys bring the cattle back and lock them in their pen. He was thinkin' back to last night about Alice and how nice she felt against him. He was hopin' to see her again, wanting to introduce her to Violet. Then he heard it.

The blood-curtling horrified womanly scream that no pre-pubescent boy could ever imitate. He snapped his head towards the direction he heard it and snapped the reigns, urging his horse to the origin of Violet's scream of absolute terror.

When he came back to her, he practically jumped off his horse and kneeled down to her. She was hyperventilating with tears rolling down her cheeks and crying, holding onto Billy, feeling his calming and reassuring grip.

"Vi, it's okay, it's okay, it's just me, it's just me," He told her, pulling her into his arms and his hand on the back of her head. "Shh, shh, it's okay I've got you."

The other cowboys were talking amongst themselves about how "Easton" wasn't a he and instead was a girl. Billy took notice that one of the other cowboys had Violets hat in his hand and frowned, putting the pieces together and realizing what must've happened.

He stood up, holding Violet close in bridal style, and set her on his horse. He put his hat on her head, which ensured that no one else would touch her as Alias joined the two.

"Vi, I'm gonna go get your hat, OK? Alias is gonna stay with you," He told her, holding her free hand. Her other hand was holding the buttons of her shirt together, so they didn't expose her chest more.

She simply nodded, not meeting his gaze. Billy squeezed her hand before going off, grabbing her hat and cursing out the other cowboys for what they did to her.

After the three got to a quieter place, Violet finally took Billy's hat off and dropped it onto his head and putting hers back onto her head.

"Hey," Billy greeted, looking up at her with a reassuring smile as he led his and her horses in tow to Alias and his horse.

"Hi," She replied, her voice thick from crying.

"I took care of 'em," He told her, averting his gaze as she fixed her shirts. "Mr. Hooker's gonna fire 'em hopefully and you'll get to keep your job."

"I don't wanna," She mumbled, taking the reigns of Billy's horse weaving the leathers through her fingers. "Wanna find a different job."

"Are you sure? Alias got us this job-" Billy asked, confused but understanding. After what happened, he didn't blame her one bit, and if he was in her shoes, he'd do the exact same.

"I'm sure." Billy nodded, leaving it at that. He wasn't one to judge and wasn't going to start now.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing

#villy #canon x oc #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x violet evans #violet evans #violets trauma #jesse evans sister #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x oc fluff #billy the kid x oc angst #billy the kid x oc slowburn #billy the kid x oc #billy the kid x oc eventual smut #billy the kid x oc smut #billy mccarty #billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x black!reader #billy the kid icons #billy the kid x reader smut #billy the kid x y/n #william h bonney x you #william bonney smut #william h bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney

[katnisspeetaprim]

How Could This happen?

Little sister au

Warnings: idol!au, jungkook's sister au, stray kids 9th female member au, SA (read my AN for more detils about this) being mistreated, crying, panic attack.

Word Count: 2372 M.list

A.N: So this is based off the request above, was meant to be all in one part but was getting too long. I know some people won't be comfortable with the topic of SA but it's nothing explicit in this story, just groaping. Please note that I'm not just pulling this from nowhere, it is based oartly on my own experiences with SA, and I find writing about the topic helps me in some way. If you aren't comfortable reading this kind of thing, please feel free to skip this one!

(Set some time before the 5 Star comeback)

The new comeback was set to be one of the biggest for the group so far. Because of this, JYP had moved a few of your staff around, bringing some over temporarily from other groups that you were familiar with, and some new hires altogether.

One of the new hires was actually a temporary personal manager for yourself, considering your regular one had left for maternity leave.

Your new manager was an older man, probably in his 40’s called Mr. Lee, which you had no problem with. You were used to working with male staff members, in fact you excitedly introduced yourself on his first day.

‘Hello! I’m Jeon Y/N. I look forwards to working with you!’ You bowed respectfully with a warm smile. You expected to receive a warm response in return, but all you got was a scoff and some annoyed mumbling under his breath, before skulking away to some other new staff members.

‘what was that about?’ Hyunjin wondered over after witnessing the interaction.

‘I’m not sure.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe he’s just having a bad day.’ You shrugged off the incident on his first day, putting it down to a one off moment. Little did you know , things were about to get much worse over the coming months...

You knew your new manager hated the job he’d found himself in. He clearly thought that managing the only female in an otherwise boy group was beneath him.

Some may think that you were overreacting, but you didn’t have to be a detective to spot the signs.

It was little things at first, a snide comment here or an odd look there... But things had escalated physically within a few weeks.

Of course he was good as gold in front of your members or other staff, so you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to create a difficult situation during such a stressful time.

‘I’m so ready for bed right now.’ You stretched out your sore muscles as you walked next to Changbin after a long day of practice.

‘Bed? It’s only like 7pm! You’re turning into an old lady!’ changbin laughed and pushed your shoulder playfully. The cheery mood faltered when a female staff member called after the two of you.

‘Y/N I’m glad I found you.’ She ran up to you, looking flustered as she stopped for a second to catch her breath. ‘Mr. Lee is looking for you.’ You couldn’t hide the way your face fell at the mention of your managers name.

‘what does he need?’ You asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

‘I don’t know, just said he needs to see you...’ She trailed off with a huff, obviously not too happy about keeping the man waiting.

‘It sounds important. I can wait for you?’ Changbin looked over to you with a light frown, not feeling too good about you being the only one having to stay behind after a long day.

You desperately wanted to accept his offer, but as you took in his tired, sweaty form, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him. Especially now that you noticed the other members obliviously walking ahead, engrossed in their own conversations as they turned the corner out of sight.

‘No it’s fine.’ You waved in dismissal. ‘You catch up with the others. I’ll ask Mr. Lee for a ride home.’ You tried to smile convincingly.

Changbin agreed to leave, though as glanced back over his shoulder to watch you walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

You knocked on the door and waited for the all clear to entre. The staff member accompanying you had already left, clearly wanting to get back to her own work.

You were about to knock again when you received no answer, but you didn’t get a chance. The door suddenly swung open and before you could react, you were yanked inside by your arm. You couldn’t help but let out a pained gasp at the painful contact.

‘Oh please. It didn’t hurt.’ Mr. Lee scoffed as he slammed the door shut behind you.

You frowned deeply and rubbed the sore part if your arm, deciding to stay quiet for now.

‘I watched you all practice today.’ He came and stood directly in front of you. You weren’t the tallest person, so he practically towered over you when he stood so close. It took everything in you to not flinch away or step back. He would have only used it as another opportunity to mock you.

‘I couldn’t help but notice you’re filling out your clothes more. Have you put on weight?’ You were suddenly regretting your decision to go home in your training gear. It was a yellow sports bra, paired with camo print leggings. You knew the outfit showed a lot of skin, but it was easy to move in and you felt comfortable around your members, plus it was much less effort to go home first and change after a shower.

You suddenly felt very exposed under the mans gaze, and unconsciously brought your arms up to cover your chest.

‘N-no... I haven’t...’ Mr. Lee just sniggered before he suddenly lunged and pulled you towards him by your arm and running is disgusting hand over your backside.

'Really? Well this tells a different story!' He squeezed hard as you tried to squirm away from his touch.

Your mind began racing a mile a minute.

He’d been treating you awfully since day one, but you never expected him to be capable of something like this.

‘Stop! Let me go!’ You flailed in his arms, trying your hardest to escape, but he only tightened his grip on you.

‘Hey!’ He spit out, moving both his hands to tightly grip your upper arms. His face was so close to yours that spit from his words landed on your face.

You wanted to vomit.

Tears were streaming down your face as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

‘Remember who’s in charge here. I could ruin you.’ With those final words, he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking and moaning, as he left slobbery, messy kisses wherever he could reach.

Your whole body froze up. You felt like you were going to pass out. You couldn’t control your panicked breathing. Your whole body was shaking as his grip only seemed to get tighter.

‘P-please...’ You tried to plead meekly one last time to get him to stop.

He only ignored you and continued his assault on your neck, as one of his hands left your arm and began to wander over your chest.

He wasn’t going to stop.

You knew full well he would take this as far as he could. You had to do something, anything to get out of this situation.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you closed your eyes and with as much force as you could muster... You thrust you knee up, and connected dead centre wit his balls.

Mr. Lee was caught off guard and let go of you to cradle his man hood as he doubled over in pain.

You didn’t waste a single second to book it out of the room and down the corridor. You didn’t even stop to pick up your bag, just wanting to be anywhere but there.

You kept your head down as you walked through the dark street.

It was freezing out and you were still only wearing your sports bra, as you didn’t have time to grab anything before running out.

To people observing you from the outside, it looked like you were wondering aimlessly and currently regretting your wardrobe choice, but in reality... You knew exactly where you were going.

‘Ok I’m coming!’ Jungkook yelled out in annoyance as someone continued to bang aggressively on his door.

He ripped the door open, ready to chew into whoever thought it appropriate to knock like that. His anger turned to shock, then worry when he saw your shaking form before him.

Before Jungkook could even say anything, you rushed forwards and threw your arms round him, before beginning to sob uncontrollably into his chest.

Jungkook was at a loss for words. The last thing he expected to open his door to that night was his sobbing twin sister. He quickly composed himself and pushed the door closed behind you and returned your embrace. His eyes widened when he felt how cold your skin was.

‘Jesus you’re freezing! Why are you out dressed like this? What’s going on?’ he held you at arms length as he tried to gather any information about your current situation.

You tried to speak, but due to a mix of the cold and the sobs, you found it difficult to get any words out at all. Jungkook realised your struggle and quickly ushered you to sit on his couch, before scurrying off down the hall.

You rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up and calm down, before Jungkook ran back in almost as quickly as he left, with a folded fluffy blanket in his arms.

‘Here, you need to warm up!’ He draped the blanket over your shoulders, which you graciously scrunched around yourself.

Jungkook took a seat next to you and gently rubbed your back.

‘Will you tell me what happened? I can help you.’ He prodded gently, wanting to make sure you knew he was on your side.

You bit your lip nervously and looked away, already feeling new tears forming just thinking about what happened.

‘U-umm. You know how I told you that I got a temporary manager?’

‘Yeah?’ Jungkook drew out, scared to know where this could be going.

‘Well... He’s never been nice to me, but I could handle it since he’s only temporary...’

Jungkook clenched his jaw at hearing your staff wasn’t treating you right, but stayed silent to allow you to continue.

‘B-but today he umm..’ You trailed off, unsure if you should really tell him anything.

Jungkook picked up on your hesitation, so he gently prodded you to continue. He needed to know what happened, even if it made you uncomfortable to say. He couldn’t help if he didn’t know how.

‘It’s ok. Take your time... I’m here with you.’ He rubbed your back soothingly, coaxing you to talk.

You looked at your brother for a second. You could see the concern all over his face. He wanted to help you. Attempting to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears.

‘He cornered me and he t-touched me..’ You stuttered out and avoided eye contact as you spoke, too ashamed to look your brother in the eye.

Jungkook didn’t need you to elaborate on the word touched. His worst fear that came with his sister becoming an idol had come true. He could feel his anger bubbling up inside, but he tried his best to keep it together for your sake.

‘I managed to knee him in the balls and run away, but I left my stuff behind...’

‘Shit.’ Jungkook whispered to himself, face buried in his hand as the other stilled on your back.

‘You’re safe here, I’ll-‘ Jungkook started to address you, but suddenly stopped when two other men burst into the room.

‘Hey! Sorry we’re late!’

Fuck. He’d completely forgotten he’d invited Taehyung and Jimin over tonight. Taehyung abruptly stopped when he saw you, causing Jimin to almost run into him.

Blush formed on your cheeks when you noticed both men staring at you in confusion.

You quickly got up without a word and ran to Jungkook’s bathroom. You felt like you really needed to shower.

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut, Jimin and Taehyung turned to Jungkook for answers. He reluctantly told them to sit, and began explaining your situation. If they also knew, then maybe they could help in some way.

‘What the fuck!?’ Taehyung shot up and burst out as Jungkook finished explaining. ‘How could this even happen without anyone noticing!?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jugkook sighed with a shake of his head, suddenly feeling like he’d lost all his energy.

Taehyung and Jimin shared a look, both equally as angry about what happened to you.

You were their maknae’s twin sister, which automatically made you family to them.

In the bathroom, you’d turned the shower up as hot as you possibly could. You could still feel his touch on your skin and it made you feel dirty. Especially where his lips had touched your neck.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying once again as you scrubbed at your skin.

The heat had made your skin heat up in a light shade of red. The amount of time you’d spent in there, you were sure Jungkook would have no hot water left.

Little did you know whilst you were showering, Jungkook was receiving a frantic phone call from Chan...

Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin had been talking furiously back and forth about the situation and how to approach it, when Jungkook’s phone suddenly began to ring. He had every intention of ignoring the call, when he caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

‘Wait guys! Chan is calling me!’ Jimin and Taehyung immediately shut up and gestured for him to answer.

‘Oh thank god you answered!’ Chan sighed in relief as soon as Jungkook answered. ‘Has Y/N been in contact with you? We can’t find her anywhere!’ Chan was clearly panicking from the tone of his voice.

‘Yeah she’s here with me. She’s really upset...’ There was silence from Chan’s end for a moment, confusing Jungkook.

‘Chan... Do you not know what’s going on?’  Jimin and Taehyung couldn’t here the other half of the conversation, but both their eyebrows furrowed in shock. Jungkook shot them a look, as he waited for Chan to reply.

‘....Mr. Lee has accused Y/N of attacking him. He’s going off to anyone who’ll listen and nobody knows what’s happening! I’m really worried about Y/N...’

Jungkook’s face paled at Chan’s words. How the heck could this be happening right now?

They needed to figure this out asap, for your sake...

#bts #stray kids #stray kids x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #fluff #angst #bang chan #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #lee know #minho #han jisung #i.n #jeongin #seungmin #seo changbin #jeon jungkook #skz9th!female member #little sister au

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

The Woman in White

(A/N: I am only gonna do the first 5 seasons of this show. I think I'd go insane if I did all 15 seasons lol. But, I do hope you guys enjoy my new fan fiction series.)

Masterlist of all of my stories / Next Chapter

"Dad, please!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie. But unfortunately, cancer is a monster you can't beat."

"C'mon, there's gotta be something!"

"You heard the Doctor..."

"The hell with what the Doctor said! I-I-I...I just...I can't do this on my own!"

"(y/n), honey, you are more than capable of doing the hunting buisness on your own than anyone I've ever known. And you know our contacts if you need any help."

"D-Dad..."

"It's okay, honey. I believe in you. I love you, sweetie, and don't you forget it."

"I love you too, Daddy. And I'll do my best. Say hi to mom for me." 

"I will..."

I sit up in my hotel bed then placed my hands over my face. I take a few deep breathes as I try to fight back the tears. That memory keeps coming back into my dreams. My dad's last day on this Earth, which happened just last year.

I let out a long sigh then brought my arms down and placed them on my knees, which was pulled up to me. I run my hand through my hair as I replay the memories of my father over and over in my head. I don't really have many memories of my mother as she died when I was very young. Dad told me that a demon had killed my mother.

That's right, a demon. 

I found out at a young age that demons, ghosts, monsters, they all exist!

Dad told me that these groups of people called the hunters are the ones that take care of those monsters. He also told me that he was one of them and he was one of the best. But the moment he met my mother, he decided to retire and settle down and then they had me.

But the peace didn't last long as a demon killed my mom by pinning her up to the ceiling and setting her on fire. My dad tried to save her as quickly as he could but the demon left. So then on, he decided to get out of retirement then started to train me once I was old enough.

I sighed once again when I heard something shift next to me, I look over and see a naked man sleeping next to me. I stare at him for a moment, kinda confused, but then I remembered that I went to a bar and started drinking, celebrating a successful hunt. 

Then this guy started chatting me up and we talked and drank until I took him back to this hotel and we ended up sleeping together. From what I can remember, he wasn't bad but...I've had better to be honest.

He stirred a bit in bed but doesn't wake up. I smirk a bit before I get out of bed and pick up my discarded clothes on the floor next to the bed.

After getting dressed, I grab my clothes bag and head out of the hotel room. I walk towards my dad's motorcycle, climb on it then turn it on and drive off.

*****

I, eventually, stopped at a diner and began to eat breakfast while also looking through the internet on my laptop. I skimmed through some articles when one catches my eye, it was an article about a missing person in Jericho, California. This young boy, Troy, disappeared on a bridge the night before and, as I continue my research, it turns out there's been other missing men that disappear around that bridge in the span of twenty years.

"Hmmm, interesting." I muttered as I sip my drink. I shut my laptop then finish my breakfast. I go and pay for it then get on my bike and head for Jericho.

Once I arrived, I get off of the bike and look down at my outfit, which was a white button up shirt, black pants and a black blazer. When you impersonate a person of the law, you've got to look the part. I grab the badge and put it in my pocket as I make my way to the bridge while I see some officers looking around the bridge.

"You guys find anything?" An officer shouts as he leans over the railings, looking down. "No! Nothing!" A voice shouts back at him as I walk up to the officer. "Hello Deputy." I greet as I walk up to him. "Hello, Miss...?" He started to ask as we go and shake hands. "Cooper. Agent Cooper." I said as I show him my badge.

"Deputy Jaffe. You look a bit young to be a marshal." He said and I chuckled. "Yeah, I hear that alot." I said and he nods at me. "Well, Agent Cooper, I appreciate you coming but...I think we've got this..." Jaffe started to say as he turns to the car in the middle of the bridge.

"Well, it's just I've done a little research and noticed that you had similar cases like this in the past twenty years. My boss found this very interesting and sent me here." I said and the deputy looks at me as another officer was looking through the car. "Yeah, we..." Jaffe started to say when the other officer comes up to him.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean." The second officer said when we heard someone arguing. "No citizens beyond this point." An officer said and I look over to see an officer arguing with two young men, one was really tall man with a little bit longer hair than the shorter man. 

I smiled as I recognized the two men as they argue with the officer. "Don't worry, sir. We're here for buisness." The shorter man said as he holds up his badge. "We've already got one of you here." The officer said and the men look a bit confused.

"They're with me!" I said as I walk up to them. The two young men look over at me and I could see a flash of recognition on their faces. "Bout time you two." I said to them. "Well...you know, traffic..." the shorter man said, smirking, and I shake my head but chuckle.

"They're federal marshals?" Jaffe asked me, shocked and confused. "Yes, they're rookies. I'm training them." I replied and he nods then he let's the boys through as the two of them look over at me, I smile and nod at them.

These two men were the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean. I've known these two since I was a kid, their dad, John Winchester, and my dad were good friends and they took on some hunting jobs together. Before I was trained to be hunter, my dad would leave me with Sam and Dean while he and John went out to do some jobs.

Sam and I had similar interest in stuff and we got along pretty well. Dean, Sam's older brother, would always tease us and say we would end up together but Sam and I already had that discussion and both of us agreed that our feelings were just of that as a friend. Heck, Sam used to tell me that I was like a sister to him and I told him he was like a brother to me.

No, Sam wasn't the one I liked, in that way...it was actually Dean who I really liked. And, honestly, I still do like him. It didn't help that Dean was very good-looking but he had this persona of a bad boy. You know the ones, the ones you couldn't bring home to your parents. He also flirted with every girl he'd meet. I swear when our dads would go off on jobs and we had to go to a school together, Sam and I would take bets on which girl Dean would pick and how long it would take him to get with her.

The loser usually bought the winner either a soda or an ice cream with the little money we had. 

And if you're wondering who won the most, it was Sam. 

"I know my brother." is what Sam told me once when I asked how he was almost always winning our bets. 

But, yeah, Dean had all the girls fawning for him and I happened to be one of them. I was a bit shy and nervous when I first met him and he would kinda tease me. But then as I got older and more confident, I was able to tease him back which took him by surprise. 

And no, I never kissed or slept with Dean. I'm probably one of, if not the only, girl that has been a part of his life that hasn't slept with him. Shocking, I know but the moment just never came up. Sure, we flirted back and forth as we got older but I guess I wanted to play hard to get with him, just to make him go crazy and see if he was really into me.

But it's been a few years since I've seen them and the last I heard, Sam left the hunting buisness and went to college. I remember dad telling me that after he got a phone call from John. But I guess something must've happened for Sam to come back to the hunting buisness.

"You did have another one just like this, correct?" Dean asked Jaffe as we go back to the middle of the bridge, pulling me out of my memories. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that." Jaffe replied.

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked him and the officer nods. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Jaffe said while Dean circles the car, looking around.

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" I asked Jaffe. "No. Not so far as we can tell." Jaffe replied.

"So what's the theory?" Sam asked after he looks at me and I give a slight nod to him.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" Jaffe said, shrugging, as Sam goes over to Dean.

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean said. I whipped my head towards him and glared while Sam stomps on Dean's foot.

Dean holds in his scream of pain while I turn to Jaffe. "Thank you for your time." I said and I turn to the boys and jerk my heard towards our vehicles. They began to follow me. "Gentlemen." Sam said to the officers and we walked away.

As we put some distance between us and the officers, I turned to the boys. "Well, well, well, Sam and Dean Winchester. What are you boys doing here?" I asked them. Sam was about to answer when Dean goes and smacks him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam asked Dean. "Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean asked him, angrily. "Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Sam asked Dean, just as angry, and I shake my head.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on." Dean said as I scoff.

"Oh, how I missed you boys." I said as I look at them.

"Anyway, it's good to see you, (y/n)." Sam said. "Good to see you, Sam." I said as I give him a quick hug then I look over at Dean, who had a small smile on his lips. "It's nice to see you too, Dean." I said as I pull away from the hug. "It's been awhile." He said and I smirk. "Yes, it has." I said then I look between them.

"So...what are you guys doing here? Last I heard, you went to college, Sam." I said. "We'll explain later but thanks for covering for us back there." Sam said. "No problem, we've got to have each others back." I said then I see a couple of FBI agents coming up to us.

"Can I help you three?" One of the agents asked as Dean turns to them. "No, sir, we were just leaving." Dean said. As the agents walk past us, Dean nods at each of them. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." He said and we walk past them and head off.

"Still driving around in that Impala, I see." I said as we walk up to their beautiful black Impala. "Yep. You still driving that Harley Davidson?" Dean asked me and I smiled. "Of course, it is Dad's last gift to me." I said as I stand in front of Dean.

"It's a helluva bike." He said and I smirked.

"Yeah, it is. Just like your car." I said as I pat the hood of the Impala.

"So, you wanna follow us?" Dean asked me. I nodded and Dean gives me a smile. "I'll see you guys in a few." I said as I walk away and head to my bike. Once I get on and get my keys out, the boys' car comes up next to me. I start my bike then Dean drives ahead and I began to follow them.

*****

Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

I can never go home...

I furrow my brow at this once Dean stops the recording of John's last voicemail to him after we parked our vehicles in a parking lot in the city. But that EVP of this female voice was very creepy and weird. "Never go home." I muttered, confused.

Apparently, John was out on a hunt, following this story of these men disappearing on this bridge, and has been missing for a few weeks so Dean came to Sam for help. 

"Yeah, that's what we're trying to figure out." Sam said. "And you guys think this...ghost...woman... is involved with your dad's disappearance and these other disappearances?" I asked and the boys nod then I let out a sigh. "All right, so...what's next boys?" I asked them and they look at me like I'm crazy.

"What?" I said, confused. "You want to help us?" Dean asked me and I smirked. "Well, yeah. I was about to investigate this case on my own but...the more the merrier. That is...if you guys want me to help." I said.

"No, no, no, that's fine! Like you said, the more the merrier." Sam said as Dean shrugs but smirks.

"Okay then...so where should we start?" I asked.

*****

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean said as we see a young woman putting up missing posters on the wall. "Yeah." Sam and I said as we walk up to the girl. "You must be Amy." I said and she looks up at us.

"Yeah." She said, hesitantly, as she looks us over. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles and aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and this is (y/n)." Dean introduced.

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy said and she begins to walk away but we walk with her. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." I, quickly, explained.

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Sam said to her as another woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on Amy's arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked Amy.

"Yeah." Amy said to her.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked them and they look between us.

Later, the five of us were sitting in a booth of a diner, Dean, Sam and I sit opposite of Amy and her friend, Rachel. "I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did." Amy replied. "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked her and she shakes her head. "No. Nothing I can remember." She replied. 

Then I noticed Amy's necklace, which was a pentagram inside of a circle. "I like your necklace." I said as I point at it. She looks down then holds the pendant and smiles. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." She laughs. I chuckle a bit and I could feel the boys staring at me.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." I informed. "Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean remarks and I rolled my eyes at him as he takes his arm off the back of my seat and leans forward.

"Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Dean said then the girls look at each other, an uneasy look washed over their faces.

"What is it?" Dean asked them.

"Well, it's just..." Rachel stammers as she looks back at us. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." She said.

"What do they talk about?" Dean, Sam and I asked in unison, then the three of us look at each other before looking back to the girls. "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Rachel said as we watch her, attentively.

"Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever." Rachel said and the boys and I look at each other.

Later, we were in the library and Sam and I sit on either side of Dean as he opens up a web browser on the computer. He types Female Murder Hitchhiking into the search box then clicks go. The screen tells him there are (0) Result. Dean replaces Hitchhiking with Centennial Highway with the same response. 

"Let me try." Sam said as he reaches over to the computer but Dean smacks his hand. "I got it." Dean said to him but then Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean exclaims as he hits Sam in the shoulder.

"Okay, children! That's enough." I said as Sam gets ready to type while Dean glares at his brother. "You're such a control freak." Dean grumbles at his brother.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asked us. "Yeah." Dean and I said. "Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam said and he replaces Murder with Suicide and finds an article entitled Suicide on Centennial.

"Good job, Sam." I praised and patted his shoulder. Meanwhile, Dean glances at Sam as he opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river." Sam said as he points at the screen where the picture of Constance is displayed.

"Does it say why she did it?" I asked.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"What?" Dean and I asked as Sam continues.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." He said and my jaw drops a bit while Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam reads as he scrolls down then a picture of the bridge appears.

"The bridge look familiar to you guys?" Dean asked and Sam and I nodded.

****

That night, we walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said as we look down. "That's a nice way of putting it." I said to him.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Dean said as I walk along the bridge and try to concentrate on the job as they argue with each other.

I just half listen to what they say as I feel like it's not my place being a part of this.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—" Sam said, slightly, annoyed as I pull out my flashlight and skim it across the lake below. "Monday. Right. The interview." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam said and I look over at them.

"For college?" I asked Sam and he nods. "Congratulations, Sam!" I said. "Thanks, (y/n). At least someone appreciates my decision to go to college." Sam said as he glares at Dean

"You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asked him. "Maybe. Why not?" Sam said.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked him as Sam steps closer.

"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam said. "Well, that's healthy." Dean grumbles and Sam clenches his jaw.

"You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean said as he turns around and keeps walking, Sam and I follow him.

"And who's that?" Sam asked as I was on Dean's right side and Sam was on his left. "You're one of us." Dean said as he gestures between me and him and Sam hurries in front of us.

"No. I'm not like you guys. This is not going to be my life." Sam said then he turns to me. "No offense, (y/n)." He said and I shrug. "None taken. I don't blame you, Sam." I said and Dean looks over at me.

"Are you kidding me? You're on his side?" He asked me, clearly annoyed and angry. "I'm saying it's his life, Dean! He doesn't have to follow this if he doesn't want to." I said, exasperated. "Honestly, if I could, I would go to school as well..." I said and Dean rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, you gotta be freakin' kidding me." He grumbles as he turns away. "But unfortunately I'm way in too deep with this job and this life. There's still time for Sam..." I said until Dean turns to me. "He has a responsibility to—" He started to say but Sam talks over to him.

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like." Sam shouts and we look over at him. 

I frown at this as Sam continues, mainly cause I know how that feels. I don't remember what my mom looks like, but dad did have a picture of the three of us when I was a baby. "And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge, which made me jump. "Dean!" I said, fearfully, as I walk up next to them while Dean glares at his younger brother.

"Don't talk about her like that." Dean threatened then he releases Sam and walks away. "You okay?" I asked Sam. "Yeah, I'm fine." Sam said when Dean calls out to us.

"Sam. (Y/n)."

We come to stand next to Dean and see Constance standing on the edge of the bridge. She looks over at us, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over to see she had disappeared. "Where'd she go?" I asked. "I don't know." Sam said as Dean shrugs and shakes his head.

Behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. The three of us turn to look. "What the—" Dean said, shocked and angry. "Who's driving your car?" I asked him. Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. My eyes widen as the car jerks into motion, heading straight for us. We turn and run. "Go! Go!" Sam yells at us.

The car begins moving faster than we were; when it gets too close, we dive over the railing. Unfortunately, I didn't grab onto the edge quick enough and fell into the water below. Once I fell into the water, I blacked out for a moment as the water felt like it was replace with concrete.

As I started to come back to reality, I felt a pair of strong hands grab me then I felt my head hit the surface of the water. 

I cough then look next to me and see that Dean was the one that grabbed me and helped me out. "Thanks." I said, before I started to cough. "Don't mention it." He said.

"Dean? (Y/n)? Guys!" Sam's voice calls out and I look up and see that he had grabbed onto the ledge of the bridge and was looking down at us.

"What?" We shouted at him.

"Hey! Are you guys all right?" Sam asked us. Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign while I nodded and gave the thumbs up sign, which made me realize that my arm was covered in mud. Grrreeeaaattt...I thought, annoyed.

"I'm super." Dean calls out to him. "Just fantastic!" I said as Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.

****

After getting back on the bridge and looking over the Impala, Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it. "Your car all right?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!" Dean exclaims and I chuckled as I stand next to him and lean against the spot next to him.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." I said and Dean gives a curt nod.

"So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam asked Dean as he settles on the hood on Dean's other side.

Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands while I shake my head and try to get it out of my hair.

Sam sniffs, then looks at us. "You guys smell like a toilet." He remarks as Dean and I look down at ourselves. I sighed, annoyed, then the boys head into their car while I go over to my bike and we take off.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural dean #dean x you #dean x y/n #tv shows #tv #fantasy #horror #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x female!reader

[abbysleftbicepp]

Your ex is bothering you, and you're afraid of him, so abby handles him for you.

Thank u for the request!!

Warnings: sa, violence, alcohol use, angst, fluff, not proofread! lmk if there’s more that I’ve missed!!

It was 12pm on a Saturday night. You and the group were out clubbing to celebrate the start of your final year at college. Nora, Jordan, Leah and Manny had already left so it was just you and Abby, and the swarms of people in the club.

“Abs I’m gonna go grab another drink, you wait here for me okay?” You tell Abby before walking off to the bar and ordering yourself another drink.

“Hey baby..you’re looking gorgeous tonight. You got any plans?” Your ex, Michael, asked in a seductive tone. Your body froze, with your heart falling to your stomach.

You and Michael didn’t have the best history. He was very violent towards you when he didn’t get his own way, so you were scared to death considering the fact he had a hold of your body in this moment.

“I have plans..” you mumbled, trying to subtly tell him to fuck off.

“Cmon gorgeous girl..let me treat you better than I have before. I know you’ll like it..” he pried.

“Michael please..I’m not in the mood for this..” you try and hint to him to stop.

“Oh is that so? I could make you in the mood.” He said. Before he was able to do anything to you, you heard a voice yell.

“HEY! Get your filthy hands off of her before I knock some sense into you, big guy.” Abby threatened him.

“Oh really? I’d like to see you try, D*ke.” This set something inside of Abby off. She swinged her fist straight towards his nose, crushing it with her force. This caused him to let go of you, and hold onto his nose.

“You fuck!” He yelled before storming out of the club.

“Are you okay?!” Abby asked, worried for your safety.

“Never better.” You looked at her, shocked. Seeing her stand up for you like this set a fire inside of you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but it was still Abby. It was always Abby.

“Are you sure? You look shocked.” She asks again, holding onto your shoulders. You look her face up and down, glancing at her lips for a few seconds. She notices this and does the same.

“Abby-“ you whisper out before you both smash your lips into one another. You both had been waiting for this moment for too long. Years of friendship washed away as it grew into so much more in a matter of seconds. God knows what was gonna happen next, but to say you were both excited was an understatement.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #modern au #no outbreak au #the last of us #anon ask #blurb #oneshot

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Tsunami Creator's Chapter 167

TL;DR - Array spells everywhere. Cale saves Dokgo Chang. GoD in crisis. Invasion plans.

Soos? LSH = ✅ CJS = ✅

Array Spells Everywhere Much of the chapter was about these array formations/spells. They're the murim version of magic circles. These array spells covered the entire Yunnan Fortress, so no one could see what was inside.

However, our Raon also learned how to create array formations, using the statue of Jungwon as a medium something. As expected of our smart and great dragon! 😊

Cale Saves Dokgo Chang If you remember, Dokgo Chang was the one that first clashed with Elder Ho about Sword Demon. The Dokgo Clan had said that CJS was their benefactor. And they lived in Yunnan Province.

With the Blood Cult taking over Yunnan, the Dokgo clan got captured, and only Dokgo Chang managed to escape. Fortunately, Cale's group found him and treated his injuries. And Cale got a lot of info about what happened in Yunnan from him.

God of Death In Crisis?! Cale tried to contact Jungwon and GoD again. Jungwon did not reply, but GoD's reply was strange:

<I'm evacuating due to a sudden situation> <Reason for emergency: An outbreak of tyrants due to the strike declaration> <Jungwon did something.> <As expected, he's a fox too.>

Okay, let me interpret this... Jungwon rallied several worlds (that had hunters harassing them) and something happened, so they went on a strike? As for the sudden appearance of tyrants, I don't know... I'm as confused as Cale is. 😂

But GoD complimenting Jungwon as being a (sly and cunning) fox though... Ah, what happened to our innocent Jungwon?

Invasion Plans The rest of the chapter was about Cale's plans for the GED to invade Yunnan. HD would lead the Demon Cult's troops tomorrow. Sword Saint would come with the Namgung Clan forces. Sui would accompany the murim people in Sichuan. Good and Evil Factions would also arrive soon.

Which means that Cale will be creating a tsunami soon! Water AP is very excited, and I am excited to see if Cale will cough blood again... hehehe. 😄

Ending Remarks RidiBooks announced that we'll finally get ebooks for TCF on August 21. Of course, it's in Korean... 😒However! In celebration of that, Ridi is holding an event where the author will answer the questions of fans!

The author Q&A is from July 31 to August 2. The author will post her answers in a special feature to be released on August 21 too.

I had to use google translate to translate my English question to Korean. I asked about what Mary's hair color was. I mean, if author answered a certain hair color, that would disprove the Mary is bald theory, right? 😂

Oh yeah, what's the difference with 'dangsuk' and 'samchon'? I know they both mean 'uncle', but I don't understand why CJS differentiated that to call CH. I'm asking because there was a line where CJS stuttered, "I'll go with Raon and d-da-dangsuk, no, s-sa-samchon-" Cale used the samchon word to call CH though.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

[todaysdocument]

Original Protocol of the Delivery of Louisiana by Spain to France, at New Orleans on November 30, 1803

Record Group 11: General Records of the United States GovernmentSeries: Perfected TreatiesFile Unit: TS 86 AO: Treaty for the cession of Louisiana - English and French texts

[Handwritten] Pièces jointes à la depeche de Mr. Laussat n[']o 9. du 19. 7bre 1803. [Main body of document follows; French-language text on the left; Spanish-language text on the right (this pattern continues throughout the body of the document).] [French text follows -- first:] Les Soussignés : le citoyen Pierre Clement Laussat, Préfet colonial, commissaire du Gouvernement Français pour la reprise, au nom de la République Française, de la colonie ou Province dela Louisiane, des mains des officiers et autres agens desa Majesté Catholique, conformement aux pleins pouvoirs qu'il a reçus, au nom du Peuple Francais, du Citoyen Bonaparte, Premier Consul, en date du 17. Prairial an 11. (6. Juin 1803), contresignés, par le Secrétaire d'Etat Hugues Maret et pour S. E. le Ministre de la Marine et des Colonies Decrés et qu'il a tout présentement remis enpersonne aux Commissaires de sa dite M. C., conjointement avec l'ordre Royal daté de Barcelonne le quinze Octobre dix huit cens deux; Et les dits Commissaires [Spanish-language text follows (on right on original sheet/image):] Los infrascriptos Comisarios de S.M.C. D[']n. Manuel de Salcedo Brigadier de los R[']s Extos,.Gobernador Militar y Politico de las Provincias de la Luisiana y Florida Occidental, Ynspector de la Tropas veteranas y Milicias de ellas, Vice Patrono R[']l Juez, Subdelegado de la Superintendencia g[']ral [with tilde over the "r"] de Correos y c.[']a [?] y D[']n. Sebastian Calvo de la Puerta y O Farrill, Marques de Casa-Calvo Caballero del orden de Santiago Brigadier de los R[']s Ex[']tos, [with tilde over the "t"] y Coronel del Regimento de Ynfantería de la Havana, Comisionados por S.M. para la entrega de esta Provincia á la Republica Francesa, por R[']l. orden 18.. de Enero de 1803. El Ciudadano Pedro Clemente [full transcription at link]

#archivesgov #November 30 #1803 #19th century #louisiana purchase

[new-dinosaurs]

Afrocarbo Kennedy et al., 2023 (new genus)

(An individual of Afrocarbo africanus, photographed by Charles J. Sharp, under CC BY-SA 4.0)

Meaning of name: Afrocarbo = African Carbo [defunct genus name for the great cormorant, now in the genus Phalacrocorax]

Species included: A. africanus (reed cormorant, type species, previously in Microcarbo) and A. coronatus (crowned cormorant, previously in Microcarbo)

Age: Holocene (Meghalayan), extant

Where found: Freshwater and coastal habitats in Africa south of the Sahara

Notes: Afrocarbo is a genus of small cormorants, a group of waterbirds that primarily catch prey by swimming underwater, propelling themselves with their feet. Members of this genus are closely related to other small cormorants from Eurasia and Australasia, but can be distinguished from them by having red eyes and a larger patch of bare skin on the face.

In recent years, all of the small cormorants have been classified in the same genus, Microcarbo. However, a new study has estimated that the African small cormorants split from the others around 12 million years ago, in the middle of the Miocene. This is comparable to or older than the estimated divergence ages separating other currently recognized cormorant genera, so the authors suggest that the African species should be reassigned to their own genus, Afrocarbo.

Reference: Kennedy, M., A.T. Salis, S.S. Seneviratne, D. Rathnayake, L.J. Nupen, P.G. Ryan, S. Volponi, P. Lubbe, N.J. Rawlence, and H.G. Spencer. 2023. Phylogeny of the microcormorants, with the description of a new genus. Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society advance online publication. doi: 10.1093/zoolinnean/zlad041

#Birblr #Dinosaurs #Birds #Afrocarbo #Holocene #Africa #Phaethoquornithes #2023 #Extant

[aurevoirmonty]

Von der Leyen a «égaré» 16 milliards d’euros: «L’Europe c’est une mafia avec que des gens corrompus»–Olivier Delamarche

Qui est-ce qui peut s'en mettre dans les poches mieux que la Commission européenne et mieux qu'une femme qui, je vous rappelle, a été virée du ministère de la défense allemand pour ça?

Quelques éléments de preuves pour Delamarche:

Ursula, comme ministre allemande de la Défense de 2013 à 2019, a été épinglée par les parlementaires allemands (https://www.consultor.fr/articles/ursula-von-der-leyen) pour son recours abusif aux cabinets de conseil McKinsey et Accenture… avant de se livrer aux mêmes excès (https://www.consultor.fr/articles/39-millions-d-euros-en-dix-ans-la-commission-europeenne-ne-megote-pas-sur-les-consultants-en-strategie)une fois à la tête de la Commission européenne.

Heiko Von Der Leyen, époux d’Ursula, directeur médical de la biotech Orgenesis (https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgenesis), avec le même actionnaire que Pfizer (Vanguard Group)

Son fils David Von Der Leyen (https://fr.scribd.com/document/389326718/David-Von-Der-Leyen-Associate-Summer-Associate-McKinsey-Company-LinkedIn), associé chez McKinsey & Company jusqu'en 2019, le même cabinet qui a conseillé Macron pour sa stratégie de vaccination forcée.

[honey-kki]

RE discourse since I guess literally everyone's opinions matter

didn't think I'd want to add to this or die on this hill but here we are I guess :D there's been so much discourse for Leon x Reader and it boggles my mind how naive some of you are of the internet, fanfiction, and fiction in general. But I'm gonna make a bullet list and hope this doesn't get too long

Don't like it; don't interact with it

Simple, there are block buttons for a reason but no you all want to be ethically and morally superior and complain on a website where most of the user base are adults. You curate your own experience on the internet, the blogs who write dead-dove state what it's going to be about before you read it. You only have yourself to blame.

What about the kids?

Honest to god who cares. Are they your kids? Do you know these kids? There used to be porn on here. Don't act like kids are so naive and need protecting. Most of the kids on here are probably tweens or young teens and they definitely know about sex. And if they are actual children, it is their parents responsibility to keep an eye on their child. and I have faith these kids are not illiterate and they can google anything that they don't know in the tags. They are also responsible for curating their internet experience. You gonna go to ao3 and ask what about the kids? Many places on the internet are not meant for kids and honestly it should be kept that way.

Dead-dove will influence others and propagate pedophiles, rapists etc...

No. I hate to break it to you, but people who are legitimately terrible morally corrupt people will just go out and do it whether or not they read fiction. They're not lurking on Leon x Reader tag when there's also just actual terrible published novels that are essentially all dead-dove, but worse because there's no warning before you read them. The policing of fiction on one website will not stop or drop SA rates and if you truly believe so, show me an article/journal/study that links the two besides an odd case here or there.

It's no ones kink!

Have you been on pornhub? I guarentee you it is someones kink, and as distasteful as that may seem to some of you, guess what? No one is forcing you to be into it. I'm not into some of the dead-dove stuff but also I'm an adult and I realize that and I can move on. But also, fiction for many i imagine is a form of catharsis. To help deal with trauma or work out dark thoughts. You can go around and accuse blogs of being morally terrible but when the only evidence you have is they wrote fiction, about a character that doesn't exist, it's a weak argument.

You don't need to voice your distaste in everything

Recently, there has been an uptick in dead-dove content. But also for the most part, there are so many other blogs that don't write that. You are focused on a minority and your complaining about ethics and morals are only performative. You want to gate-keep fiction? You don't like non-con, fine. What if a story has a pivotal moment but there's non-con. What if there's a genuinely good series but there are dead-dove elements. You want to laud over these blogs and look better but banning content is a slippery slope. ao3 doesn't do it, and people love ao3. It trends when it goes down. Just because something bothers you, you don't have to do a whole crusade. If it really bothered you, you wouldn't be complaining on the internet. Go out there, form help-groups, you could even do a degree is psychology or criminal justice. You're all so worried about the impact of dead-dove but you only care because it's in the leon x reader tag. and let's be honest, most users following this tag are women. Living out a fantasy.

In closing:

Everyone pressed about dead-dove should be grateful that the blogs even put a warning. And if you truly cared about the issues you raise in your arguments, you would understand that reading fiction is the lowest cause for someone to go out and commit crimes. Not when certain religions exist, or manifestos, or even cultural norms. The internet, and even writers in general, cater to a lot of things. Tumblr has a block button, use it and stop trying to police others unless you plan on applying the same rules to every site you interact with.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #i had fun scrolling through all the different stories #but now its all just pointless discourse about being morally superior #my post #didn't touch on rape sa apologists #but like its fiction #no one is doing that in any of the stories if they were they wouldnt feel the need to add all the dead dove tags #i just hate when people are performative about how superior they are and how much more morally upright they are #youre still on the internet on this hellsite #youre not better than anyone