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heatheninpraxis · 1 month ago

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Hello Tumblr. This is my first ever foray with fan fiction, so go easy on me, I am extremely nervous. There's just too much incredible Joel Miller smut on this hellsite and y'all inspired me. I'm halfway through the second part of this lil fic, so if there is an audience for it, I'll post part 2 asap!

Feel Her Love (part 1)

🎶Alluring Eyes - The Brudi Brothers

Tags: MDNI, smut, jackson!joel, Joel x reader, old!joel, caretaker!joel, grumpy!joel, dark themes, tw, PTSD, fmasturbation, m genitalia mentioned

AN: slow burn, age gap (legal obvs), fmc is an ex seraphite, excessive description of PTSD/trauma/mental illness, f masturbation, dirty bath water, power imbalance (inexperienced/mentally ill fmc), implied history of sa, subservience. I love Joel and have a hard time putting him in a position of taking advantage, but I'm giving them tiiiime damnit.

Without further ado - feel her love part 1

As you wake, your anxiety sets in instantly. You bolt upright, halt your breath, swiftly examining your surroundings. Where am I? You hear soft, slow snoring. You look down. Four others asleep in makeshift pallets around a dying fire. Deep breath. I am safe. I am away from them.

“Hey… hey, you're alright. I've been keepin’ watch. Y’ain't missed nothin'.” Your head snaps up to locate where the low, surly voice is emanating from. Joel is up, seated on a large rock, finishing packing up for the morning. His eyes meet yours, then flick away, so as not to spook you.

You've only been traveling with the group for two weeks or so now. He zips his pack and grab his rifle, securing the strap and gently swinging it over his broad shoulder.

“Coffee? I think there is a bit of that jerky left, if yer hungry.”

You let out the breath you've been holding. Silently, you slip from under the canvas jacket you'd used as a blanket, rise soundlessly to a modified crouched position, and reach out to grab the aluminum thermos lid of steaming coffee Joel had poured for you. You say nothing, giving a curt nod to convey your gratitude. Coffee is not something you were used to in all your years with the Seraphites. Since you'd run off, your nerves had permitted you little rest, and in small doses, the caffeine helped keep you moving in step with the group.

They were from a large camp, some place called Jackson. They were out on a scouting mission. You barely managed to gather enough information through torn and hodge podged, ruined road maps to have an idea of whereabouts they'd picked you up. Well, damn near kidnapped you, really. You had not gone willingly. You glance down at your injured leg. You'd managed to mangle it in some crude, makeshift trap a hunter had left on the roadside a few weeks ago- you’d wager somewhere outside Billings. You'd barely managed to stay alive, trying to fight off infection with what minimal foraging and holistic medicine training the Seraphites had given you. The group had spent half of a night trying to track you down after catching a glimpse of you dragging yourself through the woods, trying to lay low. As they closed in on you, you'd trained your last arrow on Joel, and after seeing how sick, hurt, and desperate you looked, he lowered his weapon. You didn't. You were ready to die fighting, no matter how pathetic a foe you appeared to be. Joel crept up to you, cooing and promising to help you. Just as you were about to loose your arrow into his chest, you heard “Sorry” and saw black. He'd pistol whipped you and flung you over the back of his horse. You awoke 18 hours later, feeling much less feverish and looking much more clean and bandaged.

“You good kiddo?” Joel asked, snapping you out of a daze. You don't meet his eyes, just silently nod. Silence. It's all you've ever had to protect yourself in this world. You've kept your head down, you've tried to follow instruction, but all you've ever known was fear, trauma, and isolation. Silence kept you out of trouble. Kept you safe from clickers. Kept the Elders’ persecuting gaze on others - poor unfortunate souls - that weren't you. You'd seen what they were capable of. You'd seen both friend and foe, strung up above the earth, missing their entrails. Your heartbeat skyrockets at the blood chilling memories.

“Heh, d’you ever shut up?” Joel playfully barks at you. You jump at the words, but understand he meant no harm by it. You give him a tiny, almost inaudible chuckle. It's the best you can do to not let on how damaged you feel psychologically. You still haven't told them who you were running from. The others start to stir now from their slumber. You focus on your rapidly cooling coffee. It's bitter and is sure to increase your anxiety soon, but you gulp it down, praying it gives you the energy you need to finish the trek back to Jackson. You focus on gathering your things, and keep your eyes down from the awakening crew.

“God you can be so loud when you want to be, Miller. The sun isn't even fully up and you're already hollerin. Let us get some fuckin caffeine in us first. " a young man, you think his name is Josh, playfully fires at Joel.

“And let you sleep all damn day? We're ‘bout seven hours out from Jackson and I'm rearin’ to get back to my own bed” he jabs back. “Now get yer coffee and get to packin’ up, ya lazy asses. “

The others are still groaning as they rush to gather their belongings. You're already at Joel's chestnut's side, clasping the bedroll Joel lent you into its leather straps on her saddle. You idly pat her haunch as you wait for Joel to assist you up. He is already rounding the treeline before you know it, and you can't help but steal a glance at his straining biceps through his thick flannel as he straddles his mare and reaches down to offer you a hand up. Your neck flushes. You sink your good foot in the stirrup, grasp his calloused, enveloping hand, and let him haul you up, careful not to bump your injured leg. You swing your leg over and, once again, find yourself seated at the front of the saddle, back flush to his chest, and your rear indecently close to his… manhood.

You think you're about 25 years old, though time meant little in your life as a cult member, and you certainly didn't celebrate birthdays. It was a cult, no matter what your mother and siblings had tried to tell you. They were true believers in the Prophet. After your mother had drug you and your siblings into their grasp, you started to lose them. You know you were about 7 when you became one of the Seraphites. And every year since then you'd known your family less and less. When your mother had fought to marry you off to some scraggly looking older man, you knew she no longer loved you in the way she had when you were a little girl. Maybe she was just trying to do anything she could to keep you alive, but in doing so, she killed who you were. Today you were a shell of a person, with little more inside than the personification of pure, undiluted fear.

Traveling with this group had been a great comfort to you, after the initial panic wore off. They tried to welcome you into the fold at night by the fireside. They protected you when danger was afoot. They nursed you back from the brink of death. There was even a woman in the crew, who sang songs as you all rode through the wilderness, that you might have remembered from when you were a small child. Maybe not, though. Maybe you just wanted to remember them, because they lit a warm little fire in the center of your chest that didn't fizzle out for days.

And Joel, who gave you all the space you needed without your asking for it. Who kept you tight to his chest in your long trek back to Jackson. Who kept an extra watchful eye on you. It felt like he'd taken you under his wing, and no one had ever done that for you before. Eye contact was difficult for you, having grown up in such a diseased hierarchy of a social setting. You were to be obedient. Subservient. And anytime you let your guard down, you'd paid for it. A slap in the face, a knuckle rapping, a week in a cell with little food and ample prayer… God, the prayer. As much as you tried to lean into it, to accept it as your reality, the prayer made you sick. You tried to accept your fate as a devout Seraphite, but deep down you knew the Prophet was full of shit.

“Almost there, kiddo. And don't worry about Jackson. I'll make sure they take it easy on you. Yer goin’ ta be safe here. Now, we are gettin’ to be full up around town, but there's a spare room at my place, till we find you your own apartment. Maybe a roommate or two for a lil while, but only when yer ready. You can stay with me n Ellie till yer good n sick of us. Yer gonna be safe with me. A'right?“ Joel gently squeezes your thigh and for once, you don't jump out of your skin. You melt back into the man who has managed to make you feel safe for the first time in your life. It makes your chest feel warm and your body feel heavy - drowsy. And you drift off to sleep, right then and there, on the back of a horse.

As the familiar Jackson skyline came into his line of sight, Joel let out a heavy sigh of relief. He and the others had gone out a few weeks back, on a mission to check in on some old radio towers Jackson could potentially utilize in the future. The mission was mostly a bust - another team would have to go out in the coming months for some heavy reconstruction, to make the one tower you did find even remotely usable. And now, this. This skittish rabbit of a woman he was dragging back into town. Mean as a viper when they'd cornered her, but softened as the days went on. Joel couldn't get a good read on her. She sure was timid, and did not seem to enjoy meeting anyone's eye. He didn't know why, but he was drawn to her and found himself hovering, overly concerned about her. He would normally be annoyed at how helpless she was, adding little to the group's efforts. Not to mention the shit storm he will be walking into, very soon now. How did someone with such little survival and navigational skills end up out here on her own? After 2 weeks, they had managed to get a few answers to some questions out of the woman. She didn't want to disseminate who she had been with prior. Images of raider thugs laying their hands on her flashed through Joel's mind, and just the thought made his blood pressure rise. Who had hurt this girl? Who carved those scars into her face? For their sake, he had better never find out. Joel did feel shame for the decisions he had made in anger in his past, but never regret. He certainly didn't learn from it, because if he ever managed to get the names of her captors, abusers, whoever they were, out of her, he was going to make them pay in flesh.

Jackson's leadership would not be pleased Joel was dragging another stray into town, another mouth to feed. The winter had been hard on their community, and they had long since run out of safe homes for new admissions. The construction teams were struggling to keep up with demands for home renovations. But what was Joel to do? Leave this girl in the woods to burn up from her infected open wounds? Maybe if she had been someone else, but one look into her big round fearful eyes, her bow taught and trained on his center of mass, his heart seized up and he knew he was on the hook for another soul to protect - to live and to die for. Part of him resented her for that, another person to protect, to feed, to have depending on him. It feels like that's all his life ever was - working hard and worrying for people. As he was approaching his mid 50’s, he could feel the weariness and the weight of it bearing down on his bones more than ever.

Joel found himself breathing deep, inhaling the earthy scent of his passenger's hair, and she slept gently resting under his chin. It was tied up in disheveled braids, secured closely to the crown of her head. They hadn't been able to provide any substantial bathing measures for her, and her hair smelled dirty, like earth and sweat, but intoxicating to him nonetheless. She was sickly looking, and covered in grime, but try as he might, he couldn't deny the shapeliness of her body, or the undeniable beauty of her face, even with the two deep scars protruding from the sides of her plump lips, and tracing all the way up to her ears. He stiffened, realizing how fucking creepy the act was, sniffing on a defenseless young woman as she slept, ruminating on her beauty. Shame sent prickles under his skin and up his chest and neck, and he gripped the reins tighter, determined to get off this horse and back home to the privacy, comfort, and quiet of his humble Jackson home. He needed to get his fuckin’ head on straight. They were only about 5 minutes out from the gate now, and he bristled preemptively at the inevitable interrogation and invasion of space she was about to endure. He felt a growl forming in his chest. He was fucking exhausted and didn't want to deal with it, but he was going to stay composed for the girl, she didn't need to see him lose his head just yet.

You awake to a quick, rough jostling. Joel is shaking your shoulder with a firm grip.

“Wake up, girl. We're here.” His tone is stern, colder than you were used to from him. The others had dismounted, and were joking with the team that had arrived to greet them. You swallow dryly. You're uncertain what you'll do if they turn you away. The idea of picking back up and walking away from this enormous settlement had your teeth on edge. This was more than you could have ever expected to see out here in the tattered remains of the world that once was. The walls were high, made of sturdy, reinforced wooden logs. There must be hundreds, if not thousands of people living here. All dressed in warm clothes and well fed. Your chest pangs with a grief you had tried for years to bury, wishing you could have broken through to your siblings. You thought your mother was too far gone, though. Who would your siblings be if they'd ended up here instead of the harsh, swampy region your chapter of the Seraphites had held domain in? Joel hopped off the chestnut mare without a word, letting you stumble with no support behind you any longer. His sudden departure from the protective persona you'd come to know him as left you feeling uncertain and vulnerable. He slung his pack over his shoulder and picked you up effortlessly to set you on the ground beside him. A shooting pain radiated up the back of your leg and you whimper, barely perceptible. You catch a glimpse of Joel's eyes, looking shocked and remorseful, before they dart away and he gestures for you to follow him closely.

“Shit… ” Joel winces under his breath, I'm a fucking prick. Shoulda been more careful, he thought. He was desperate to get this over with and to get you back to his place. You hobble at his side, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“You're shittin’ me, Miller. You know this can't fly right now.” an older gentleman groans in Joel's direction as his eyes rake over you in frustration. “Another mouth to feed. Where the hell you gonna put her?” Joel barges past, his arm hovering around your back, herding you through the team collecting the horses. The others you'd travelled with were filling the gaurds in on their findings about a decrepit radio tower.

“Not in the fuckin’ mood for chastisin’, Mike. Get Tommy and the rest ready. She's stayin at mine and I won't hear another word till the rest are here for intake protocol.” Joel is steadily guiding you through the gate. Your body is lit up, nervous for your potential exile, or maybe the possibility of this place, full of life on bustling streets, being your new home. Your heart races as you sidle next to Joel, trying to keep your head down and your heart from getting its hopes up. You pass homes and stables, bakeries, a seamstress and cobbler's storefront... You would never have dreamt this was out there beyond the woodlands you'd grown up in. You could smell food cooking, possibly something from the bakery, and hear faint music coming from what looked to be a tavern. The anxiety was palpable, swirling through your chest and above your head. Joel catches a glance at you every few steps, warming at the wonder in your eyes. He is desperate for this to go as quickly and painlessly as possible. It's glaringly evident him you have trauma, possibly PTSD, from whatever hell you've lived through in place of a real life. And from what he gathered from you over the last couple of weeks, you weren't ready for the grilling he knew you'd be subject to shortly. You eventually walk up steps to a white washed wooden building. The porch was adorned with bunting flags in bright colors, with bountiful flower pots on either side of the glass doors. The entry way was filled with fliers - job postings, advertisements for yoga classes and square dancing lessons, babysitting offers… all edivence that this really was a thriving community. It took your breath away.

“Alright now, listen to me.” Joel says, grasping both your shoulders firmly and pulling you to face him, his gaze determined to penetrate yours. You do your best to hold your eyes to his, as much as it makes you squirm. “These people are tasked with keepin’ this place safe and runnin’ efficiently. It's their job to make sure we ain’t runnin’ this settlement into the ground or takin’ in lawless psychopaths. Now I know you're harmless, and just tryin’ to survive, but they're gonna want to be convinced. I'm gonna try to answer what I can but I need to know you ain't gonna give ‘em your infamous silent treatment. I need you to be brave and tell them your story, okay kiddo?”

Your eyes are watering now, and you burn under his gaze. You start to nod, but manage to muster up a quiet, but firm “yes." You cannot mess this up. It's your only hope. Joel holds your gaze for a few beats longer, nods once, takes a sharp deep breath, and opens the door. He guides you into a large room with a panel of individuals at the back. There are benches lining either side of the aisle he leads you down. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but you keep your head level with your audience. They scrutinize you as you approach, filling you with the urge to dash, but you plant your feet firmly on the ground and pretend you are brave.

“Joel… “ a woman greets him with exasperation in her voice.

“Maria…” he nods, and extends the greeting to the others on the panel as well.

“And who do we have here?” Maria wastes no time asking.

Joel introduces you, and you nod at the panel, doing your best to mirror his body language. He gives them a brief rundown of their mission, and what scraps of information he and the others had coaxed from you over the time you'd spent together so far. He sounds weary, but tries to put on his most charming tone. Joel is desperate for this to go by without a hitch. He doesn't dare to imagine the sleepness nights ahead of him, worrying about you outside of these walls, if they don't make an exception and welcome you in.

“Well, let's hear it from you. Where did you come from? Who is it you've left behind out west?” the man Joel addressed as Tommy asks you.

Your chest starts to seize, you're terrified to speak their name out loud. Outside of Washington, you're unsure what opinions come to mind when someone hears the word “Seraphite”. Do they know of their cruelty or deranged beliefs? But you weren't one of them. You had to make them understand. You had to make them see you aren’t like them. Your breathing speeds up and your mind is whirring.

“Hey, now. S'okay kiddo. Just tell them the truth. Ya ain't got nothin’ to hide “ Joel's voice is warm and coated in honey now, just for you. He places his broad hand on your back. It snaps your mind back into the present moment, and gives you just enough courage to tell them the truth. So you do. Quietly, quickly, you tell them your story - cult, WLF, whistles, and the rest. You don't mention how your mother tried to marry you off to the man who tried to take advantage of you as a teen. You don't mention the executions you bore witness to. You don't mention the oppression and neglect you endured or exactly why your face is carved up like a jack-o-lantern. You just try your best to tell them who you are and why you left. After you prattle out the information, you look up from under your lashes to gauge their reaction. Some look shocked, some look at you with pity. None of them look angry. Your breath shudders.

“Good job, kiddo. You did real good. Why don't you wait out in the lobby for me while we finish up?” Joel coos.

You look up at him, fearful and teary eyed, and he nods reassuringly. You turn tail and exit the room. To your surprise, you don't panic as the door closes behind you. You don't even cry. You just focus on your breath, and listen to the muttering on the other side of the large wooden door. You make out the word “responsibility” and maybe “appointments” but within a few minutes, you hear heavy boots approaching on the wooden floor. The door opens slowly and Joel walks into the foyer. Without looking at you he says “Let's go” and notions to you with a nod of his head. You follow, relief flooding your body when you realize you aren't about to be handcuffed and escorted back out into the Wyoming wilderness.

Joel leads the way as you walk through town towards his home. The others seemed sympathetic to her story, but no less pissed off at him. They're worried about your stability, and want him to get you to a therapist for an evaluation and weekly visits. Only Greta had heard tale of the Seraphites. Her sister in a settlement in Canada had mentioned them years ago, but referred to them as “scars”, and only as what she thought to be a fringe group, not the religious zealot foothold in the PNW you'd made them out to be. Your recounting had been enough to spook the others, and make Joel grateful for the distance he and his team had managed to put between you and your abusers. He was feeling overwhelmed by it all, and maybe a little stupid, after a comment Tommy made about him feeling the need to save all the damaged women he ever stumbled across. Fuckin’ bratty little brother and always will be, Joel thought. None of his fuckin’ business who I deem worthy of a helping hand anyway…

It was nearing sunset as he rounded the street corner to his dead end street. His heart gave a small skip at the sight of his flimsy little white picket fence, grateful to be back home and the fuck away from other people. That is, except for you. He turned around, realizing he had been walking too fast and too determinedly for someone of your stature and state to keep up. You weren't far behind, though. And you were just happy to be somewhere so idyllic. It felt like a dream. One you never could have mustered up while hidden away in Pacific northwestern forest, only ever knowing destitution and the lack of joy in things like picket fences and painted shutters. Joel thinks he might have caught you smiling as you were taking it all in.

“Well, here it is. I gave you my word that you could stay with us as long as you needed. Ellie stays here in the garage, you can take her old room. Let's head in and get you cleaned up so I can take a look at that leg.” You no longer detected any gruffness, nor any of the honey soaked reassuring tone from earlier. All you could hear was exhaustion.

Joel led you onto his creaking front porch and in through his heavy wooden door. He tossed his pack down on the kitchen floor, and gestured for you to do the same. You didn't have much with you, just some chewing sticks from home to keep your teeth clean, a small glass jar of liquid castile soap, your canteen, one change of clothes, and some hair pins to keep your mane tame. Joel had taken your hunting blade and bow when they'd picked you up. He had promised to arm you at the first sign of danger, but that sign never came. You held your bag close to your side, and he looked down at it, then shrugged as if to say “suit yourself, you can bring it up to your room” and he turned around to start fiddling around in his kitchen.

“I'm throwing on a kettle, get you some tea started” he said as he filled the kettle. “Water heater is old, so it takes a while to get hot” you watch with rapt attention, not really knowing what he was talking about. You knew what a kettle was, and didn't understand what would make his take so long to heat up. Joel could read the incredulity on your face, and wondered what kind of regressive hell you lived in to have not known the luxury of a hot bath. He tries to rephrase “uh, I'm gonna make us some hot water for tea and then I'm going to start the water for your bath, it just might take a while before it's ready for ya”

You watch as he clicked on the burner and set the kettle down. He rounds the corner and brushes against your hip, and you step back, flustered from the contact. You had never been permitted to be in such close contact with men before, and even as you became all too familiar with the sensation of bouncing just outside the confines of Joel's lap day in and day out, these little brushes still sent tingles throughout your body. You scramble out of his way, he slows and braces you with a desperately light touch, and he mumbles “Er sorry” and he carries on his path to his bathroom. Once inside, Joel grasps either side of his sink, closes his eyes, and let's out a long, deep sigh. What the fuck have I gotten myself into. This poor woman ain't used to civil society… he looks in the mirror at his sun damaged, salt and pepper reflection, shakes his head, and turns to draw you a bath. In the kitchen, you look around, enthralled by the commodities Jackson residents are permitted, even after all the destruction of the last few decades. The Elder's would spit on this place were they here. Spit on you for revelling in it. They despised “new world” comforts, and lauded minimalism and conformity. But you were here, looking at artwork on the Miller's walls, and they were miles away, likely shitting in a hole in the woods. You almost permit yourself to smile at the thought. You move silently throughout the first floor, listening intently for Joel's footsteps to approach. You find a tiny carved bird on the fireplace mantle. You pick it up and get lost in its charm. Each feather chiseled out in meticulous detail. You don't recognize the breed with what information you can discern from a wood carving, but pick your brain for all of the species you had learned about back home.

“Eh that ain't my best work” Joel says as you jump and almost let the bird clatter to the ground. He hadn't made a sound, even with his enormous body and this aging wood flooring. You scramble to set the bird back down on the mantle, feeling ashamed for touching things that didn't belong to you. You clasp your elbows behind your back and fix your gaze at his feet.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have … “

Joel approached you slowly with his arms out, like you were a wounded dog. “S'okay, you're allowed to touch anythin' in this house. S'your home now, too. You don't ever have to be sorry. I know it might take a while for you to feel like this is your home, but I'll be here to make sure you do. “ he stops a few feet shy of you, and you feel embarrassed. You know this isn't how normal people behave. You wonder when you arrived at this level of broken. Joel gingerly maneuvers through the house, and switches off the burner so the kettle's whistle doesn't spook you. He returns from around the counter and coaxes you towards a door in the middle of the hallway, just under the stairs. He guides you to step inside the wash room, and you see the bathtub full of steamy water. You hadn't bathed in one since you were a kid, and never with hot water. You had only ever bathed in the stream with several other girls in your age group. You look up at him with gratitude and anticipation.

“She's all yours, take all the time you like. Left some of Ellie's ol’ girly shit on the window sill for ya - shampoo and razors and whatnot. There's a hairbrush in the vanity until we can get you some supplies of yer own. You need anything, you just holler.” And with that, Joel closed the door and left you to it.

You checked around the room and peeked out the window to make sure you were really, truly alone. You hadn't bathed alone maybe ever in your life. A girlish giggle nearly bubbled up out of your chest, but you swallowed it down and started stripping off your dirty layers. You peeled the bandages off your leg and winced, the wound wasn't fully closed and you knew it needed washing. You stepped in front of a large standing mirror. Your curves were still there but you looked thin. It made you frown. Your face was filthy and your hair was stringy and disheveled, even with the braids still secured tightly to your scalp. You took the pins out one by one, and let your tresses fall around your shoulders and breasts. You bent down to find the hairbrush Joel mentioned in the drawer of the vanity. Vanity… the Elders...

You turned your back the mirror and quickly brushed out the rats nest on your head. Slowly you dipped one leg over the edge of the claw foot into the dreamy, hot water. It was perfect. Instantly dirt melted off and swirled out into the clean water. You left your wounded leg draped over the side of the tub as you seated yourself fully in the luxurious water. You sigh blissfully and felt enraptured by the sensation. It was overwhelming and quietly joyful. You permit yourself to just revel in it and soak. You submerge your entire body up to your ears and eyes. The only thing you hear is a slow dripping coming from the faucet. It almost startles you, the quiet and comfort. It's deafening and starts to make you nervous, so you begin to slosh around a little more to make some noise, washing your body with the scented soap Joel left for you on the window's ledge. You diligently scrub yourself and luxuriate in the greatest washing up of your life. You lather and scrub your hair, the shampoo creating more foamy suds than you've ever seen. You meticulously shave your legs, leaving only a handful of knicks on your knees and ankles. By the time you wash your wounded leg and the rest of your body, the water is grey and the suds have dissipated to swirling white streaks in the filthy water. You step out of the tub, pulled the drain plug, and look around the bathroom. There are no towels in sight. Increasingly panicked, you begin to check every drawer and cabinet.

In the living room, Joel waits for what seems like hours. Trying desperately to keep the image of your naked body soaking in his tub from his mind. He fusses with the kettle, dumping cups of water down the drain and refreshing them with hot water each time they go cold waiting for you. Joel's throat feels thick with anticipation and he just wishes he could go off and rub one out in the privacy of his own room. His length is stiffening in his jeans. He angrily tugs at the crotch of them, trying to create space for the thickening bastard inside. What the fuck was wrong with him? He hadn't been alone with you for an hour before his perverted ass mind ran off with visions of you naked, legs spread indecently wide across his bed. I mean Jesus, how old is she anyway? Half your age? It ain't fuckin right Miller. Joel hears drawers opening and closing down the suddenly now. Joel immediately realizes his mistake and mutters a drawn out “fuuuuuuck… no”. He forgot your fucking towel. He knew you'd be too spooked to call out for him. Could you even make your voice reach an audible level from that distance? He rushes downstairs to find his fluffiest clean towel from the laundry room in the basement.

You had exhausted all potential storage spots in the bathroom and decided to open up the door to call out for help. As the door swings open Joel rounds the corner of the stairs and comes face to face with your dripping wet, fully nude body. You freeze. Absolutely stock still. Joel curses and tries to hand you the towel. He tries desperately to look away, and to understand why the hell you were just standing there. He is apologizing profusely, and you see the desperate attempt he is making to look away, but you are still in shock at your poor timing, nothing registers in your brain. Joel sees you are in trauma response freeze mode and realizes he needs to help you. He fumbles to unfold the towel and drape it around you, but not before he catches a glimpse at the beauty between your thighs or those large, tear drop shaped tits sitting pretty on your chest. He feels his heart squeeze in agony - for betraying your trust and for the fact that he will never bury his face in your perfect cunt or spend hours lazily sucking on your dark pink nipples. To avoid this agony clawing at him, he sternly wraps your body in the towel and mutters “what the hell kiddo, help me out here”. As you finally snap out of it, you clutch the towel to your body, and slam the bathroom door behind you. You know he saw every inch of you. You saw his eyes dart over your body. You felt them sear into the place between your thighs. The heat from his eyes still lingers there. You were no stranger to this hunger, but could usually will it away by trying to think of anything else - foraging guidelines, the prophets scripture… it isn't going to cut it this time.

Joel is flustered on the other side of the door. He rips his glasses off and rubs his palm over his face, cursing, his other hand on his hip. He calls your name. “Hey… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to barge in, I was just about to knock when the door opened. I'm so sorry.” he groans, frustrated in more ways than one. “Just… I left a pile of clothes for you. Get dressed and meet me out here. I got warm tea for ya and I'll dress that wound again.”

You take deep breaths and remove the towel to dry your sopping wet hair. You realize this heat isn't subsiding, it's expanding. Your breasts start to ache with the need to be touched. You rush to cover them, to tuck all your private bits away and hope they quiet down and stop tormenting you. You know what an orgasm is, from the whisperings of the other girls your age, you've just never experienced it. You know instinctively this is what you need, but you have never had the privacy to learn how to obtain one. You shared a room with tens of others your entire life, with night watch standing by every hour, keeping you all safe from wolves or other dangers. Never have you had the opportunity to become familiar with your body. You just remember the other times you've felt this heavy and paralyzed with aching longing, and how long it took for it to subside. You recall a string of days, feeling that button of sensitive nerves in your private area pulsating incessantly.

You panic a little as you remember Joel said you'd have your own room. You'd never slept alone before. The prospect frightens and exhilarates you. You hurriedly slip into the clothes Joel laid out for you. The bra he provided fits well, but the clothes are a bit tighter than you're used to. The cotton shirt squeezes your breasts in a deliciously uncomfortable way, and the lower hem drapes across your hips indecently, displaying your figure and you resign yourself to taking it off as soon as you're away in your room for the evening. The satiny pants, not appearing to be standard street wear, must be for indoor use around the home. They are soft and slinky, and unfortunately showcase your behind in explicit detail. You can make out every dimple in your round, jiggling ass, and flush at the thought of Joel seeing you like this. This was certainly not aiding in the banishment of such indecent feelings.

You plait your hair, placing each braid carefully across the crown of your head and pinning them firmly in place. The bath greatly improved your mood and comfortability, but the idea of walking out into the living room has your heart racing again. You press your nervousness as deep down into your gut as it will go, and quietly step out of the bathroom and down the hall. Joel is waiting for you, the sleeves of his worn flannel peeled back, exposing his beautiful muscular forearms. He is seated on a worn but comfortable looking couch, elbows resting on his spread knees, medical supplies laid out before him on a low table. He seems to flush all over again at the sight of you. He glances up at you, and then back down at the table gesturing to the small mug of tea waiting for you.

“S'justa herbal blend from the cafe, ‘sposed to be relaxing. Ellie used to drink it when she couldn't sleep. Now get over here and let me take a look at ya." He hands you the mug before patting the cushion next to him. You take the mug, delightfully warm in your palms. “Thank you”, you eke out before taking a seat, maintaining a safe distance from his hulking body on the sofa. He leans back, indicating he'd like you to place your leg on his lap for him to examine. You cautiously oblige, and he gently stretches your leg out across his lap. He slowly pushes the loose fabric of your soft pant leg up to your knee. You hear him audibly swallow. “S'lookin better. Might have to get you down to the clinic in the morning for some oral antibiotics. S'it hurtin’ you much?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You watch, and urge your body to stop trembling under his careful ministrations. You sip your tea to distract yourself - a chamomile blend, possibly a bit of lemon balm. He added honey, it tastes fresh. You silently wince as he prods at your cuts, and let him apply a salve. You watch his arms work as he wraps your leg in a fresh bandage, his jaw clenching in concentration. When he is finished tending to you, he reaches up to cover your leg, dragging his palm down the flesh on the inside of your calf. You shudder and your pussy throbs. Your eyes betray you as they widen, before you catch yourself reacting to his touch. You pray he didn't catch it as he gently places your foot back on the ground. You think it might be better if he had euthanized you, as you are starting to feel rabid at his close proximity. You notice the tea rippling violently in your mug, and attempt to steady your trembling hands. Joel stands abruptly, turns away to adjust his jeans, and curtly says “I'm ready to hop in the bath m'self now. Can I show you to your room? I made it up with some clean linens while you bathed.” You down your tea, praying to no one in particular that there was a sedative you hadn't quite identified in the herbal blend. You stand, ready to follow him upstairs. You try desperately to avert your eyes from his incredible ass as you ascend. The room smells a bit stagnant, but Joel must have noticed before you and he walks over to crack a window. But it's comfortable, clean, and most importantly, feels secure. The windows are intact and you worry less about intruders, being on the second floor. You place your tiny pack of belongings on a table near the door. “Thank you. I… I cannot find the words to express my gratitude. You've saved… you've done so much for me. I promise if there is a way I can make it up to you, it will be done.” You spoke to the floor, but force yourself to look up at his face as he stands in the doorway.

“That won't be necessary kiddo. It's been my pleasure. You deserve so much more than what cards you’ve been handed in your life. Let's see what we can do to get you started on a better trajectory. I'll get you down to the clinic first thing tomorrow and we can take it day by day from there. My room is just the next door down from ya. You come get me if you need anything at all, darlin'. I'll just be a little while in the tub and we will call it a night. Now you make yourself comfortable an’ get some rest.” He waits for a moment, taking you in, and closes the door behind him.

On the other side of the door, he looks up to the ceiling and mutters a curse before he treks back down the stairs. Having your bare feet in his lap was absolutely torturous and he is considering letting the tub run cold before taking a dip. He walks into the bathroom and starts to undress, sighing as he frees his straining cock from of his restrictive jeans. He glances down at the tub, a layer of filth remains in the basin. His heart aches for you - all the trauma you'd been through, all the things you never got to enjoy, like a simple soak in a warm bath. He rinses the basin out and attempts to shake out all the perverse thoughts of you from the day. How shockingly beautiful your face was under all that grime, either because of or despite your deep scars. The way that old threadbare t-shirt clung to your perfect body. The smooth, freshly shaven skin of your legs under his rough palm. The thought of your beautiful mound mere inches away from his hand as he pushed your PJ pants up your leg. God have mercy, get a grip Miller. You're old enough to be her daddy. She needs you to get her back on her feet and that’s it. Not drooling over her like some old pervert. Get your fuckin’ head on straight.

Just upstairs, you remain still on the bed. You try to adjust to the quiet of the house. You hear the faint noise of the town from the crack in your bedroom window, still alive and bustling outside of the quiet respite of Joel's home. You can feel your heartbeat between your thighs - hear it pounding in your ears. You double check the windows and make sure they don't open easily, you suppose in case of very determined intruders with ladders. You peel off your shirt, relieved of its restrictive fabric. You lay down and tuck yourself into the covers. You've never laid in a plush, clean, fully dressed bed. It feels foreign, but you think you could get used to its softness. The throbbing is still there, and it's driving you mad. You feel desperate, somehow hungry. You adjust your head on the pillow. You hear Joel's footsteps down the hall, and his door closing behind him. You try to fall asleep and pray for the tea to help settle your nerves. You begin to feel exhausted, and long for the rest you've been deprived of for weeks. But the incessant throbbing and hunger plagues your every thought. Joel's eyes on your naked breasts, at the apex of your thighs. Joel's forearms. Joel's perfect ass. Joel's palm on the soft flesh of your calf. You raise your head and slam it back down into the pillow. You groan in frustration. You hear Joel settle into his creaking bed. In a huff, you grab your blanket and lie down on the floor, your stomach pressed firm against the ground, your arm tucked under your chin, supporting your head. Slowly you tuck the opposite arm under your body, and drag it down to your pelvis. You crave stimulation, pressure - anything to cease this unending, aching pulse. With your arm fully extended now, you lift your pelvis to make room for your fist, directly under your hypersensitive mound. A tiny moan slips out as you rest your body down on top if it. The pressure is a relief but it's not enough. You can feel the satin pants sticking to your cunt and your thighs. The heat radiating from the crotch of your pants is near burning on your balled fist. You begin to rock your hips side to side, and it makes your breath catch in your lungs. It isn't enough, but it's helping. You're wide awake and your mouth is watering at all the images of Joel you've committed to memory over the last few weeks. You drag your pelvis up and over your knuckles and cry out, loudly. The hand under your head reaches out to clamp over your mouth. Your breath is hot and quick over the backs of your knuckles. Your eyes are clamped shut, and a tear slides down your cheek from the sheer frustration of it all. You feel confused, unsure of how to bring yourself to climax, and you're wound up tight like a spring. You have never had the luxury of privacy, or the opportunity to tend to your own needs. Your swollen, aching breasts press into the floor, hard nipples rasp against the soft fabric of your bra. You are reduced to nothing but nerve endings and need. You grind aimlessly onto anything firm, but as you rest your body on the hard floor, it gives in to the exhaustion. You drift off to sleep under a clean quilt, directly on top of your fist.

#tlou #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #smut #joel miller tlou #seraphites #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fandom #joel miller smut

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 9 months ago

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So now we have all the behinds and the show in it’s entirety, nobody can convince me this wasn’t a vehicle in which to establish themselves as a duo and to show their bond.

The first episode and the behinds cemented this for me, along with the 3rd episode.

I also want to clearly state I mean this in a positive way, as in the why of their decision to make the show, and it is not in any way negative. If we go back to Jimin saying he mentioned it a while back, doing a travel vlog, it was obviously an idea they knew they both liked and felt comfortable with. It’s something they had also done with the group and by themselves. They know they can travel together and it works.

So then comes the idea of a duo show, just them in theory. However as filmed content it was never going to be just them, let alone the guest, and although they are used to staff and cameras, it’s still invasive to a point, and they know this. I’m sure there is footage that will never see the light of day, the staff said they were worried about editing it, but there is trust there obviously they knew they were in good hands, and they did let their guard down somewhat, at times.

The behinds actually show more of the staff than the show itself, you can see they are ever present in reality, while they are eating whilst camping they are wandering around, while Jimin films the firefly there is a woman right next to him, whilst they are packing up in Japan, packing in NY, you can clearly see staff wandering and sat around.

So back to my point, they weren’t ever truly alone alone at times, but this was and is for content, for fans. Let that sink in. Although it was a chicken and egg, as in they wanted to probably travel alone but couldn’t leave SK without a permit for work, because of MS approaching, so this became work. A trade off. So yes, whilst it was a way to spend time together being free (and it’s a testament to them they felt that despite the staff and cameras), it was still agreed content. And truly what I mean by that is there was a reason why, a deeper reason, why they wanted to do this just them. A blogger said it the other day on here but it’s to establish themselves as Jimin x Jungkook. A duo within a band. It had to be them, no one else. It’s about showing the world at large, or really those willing to see and listen, them.

Less, making up for something gone wrong. Nope, this became a plot device of sorts, one I personally expected, one that fit the narrative they had largely created themselves during chapter 2, especially in early 2023. This wasn’t about fixing a divide, because Jimin would never do that on camera anyway, that’s not his mo. This was a long awaited way to be in content just them. I also say this because I read on twitter an op ot7 who visited the kayak place, and the owner told her that location scouts came out three months prior to filming, that’s around April, this was not last minute, this was planned. They knew extremely what they were doing, and again the last minute narrative became a plot device to explain the show, friends catching up. This is also clear in them mentioning the members a lot in ep1 especially, keeping the ot7 connections. What aired was Jimin saying he missed V, then calling Yoongi, but the behinds have him saying he missed Namjoon, and Hobi. Jin was also mentioned a bit and also JK said he missed the members. Aside from the guest in jeju, the members weren’t mentioned again in such a way.

In episode 3, Jimin said he was speaking about having a meal all three of them for something to say for the show. This gave a glimpse into the reality, and an understandable one, that they tailored their conversations for the cameras, found that’s interesting/acceptable to talk about. That absolutely makes sense, they aren’t going to talk how they usually would when together in front of us. That goes for the band as a whole really.

All in all, these things all added together supports my theory that this was about us seeing them, and by that I mean them as a duo, not necessary making amends, or anything so dramatic. The other piles of evidence to support this is the fact that they don’t seem distant in terms of their behaviours, they seem to loose grasp of that in ep2, and never heard of again. Then the fact that they’re inside jokes and the way they know each other so so well is off the charts, that doesn’t come from spending time apart, that’s married behaviour. The way they prioritised each other is evident in all that they did, the activities and food they picked out, they did for each other. They were really out there living their best life, travelling under the guise of work. Love that for them and I for one see them

Hi, anon! I've been meaning to answer this earlier, but as this is a longer ask that touches on a lot of points, it took me a while. Anyway, you mentioned some things that I don't see going around much in terms of jikook "narratives" made by shippers, which is basically the only reason why this ask stood out to me.

The short version, I agree with mostly everything, but I want to address individually some of the points you made.

1. Jimin x Jungkook establishing themselves as a duo. Yes, that certainly became clear with AYS?!, although they had already did that in terms of performing as idols. But with this show, they took one step further. A bold decision, but I see it contextually. And I'm a glass half empty kind of person, so you or others might not agree with me. I think that AYS?! could only be made in the context of this small window of solo projects before enlistment. It was part of Jimin's projects in which Jungkook was brought on board and both of them decided together what to make of it. And the wish had been granted. Do I think jikook as a duo is something that will exist post-military in the context of a bts reunion and subsequent solo paths? Not really. At least not from what I can see now from this position. Once they are all together, the company might suggest to replicate the success of AYS?! with the entire group, or turning it into some dumb ot7 army dream and have the guest gimmick become a regular thing. Have other duos be established. Wasn't their group leader enthusiastic about the idea of units with the most predictable and fanservice-y combinations? I don't trust BH/Hybe and never will. I want and hope to be proven wrong.

2. Anyone who believes that AYS?! was something spontanous that could have been planned in a month or a couple weeks is naive. There's no need to have any sort of industry knowledge to just think a little bit and you can image the amount of work that goes into pre-production. From preliminary talks which would involve getting the idea out and presenting it to the company and the producers, deciding how it's going to pann out, how will it work in the context of jikook's schedules (no, Jimin did not ambush JK in NY, in case a nutcase is reading my blog). Scouting the locations takes a while. Deciding the most suitable place, if it's available during the period in which JM and JK are also available and so on. And from everything we know, both of them were involved (there's even that interview with the show's director?) throughout the process. And what you said about scouting that place 3 months in advance? It tracks, obviously. If it's the type of production that has a substantial budget that will be streamed on Disney+, you bet your ass they didn't do anything last minute.

3. This last point is connected to the second one. I don't subscribe (never did) to this idea that this is truly some show in which the idea of spending time together for a short while, away from album work, is somehow a way to compensate for some perceived distance or not seeing each other and all the implications (read "fiction") that some have come up. I won't go into too much detail because I find it pointless*, but I guess Jimin watching and commenting on Jungkook's wlives as early aa Feb 2023, saying stuff like "my baby eat well" or "I want to tie your hair neatly" or all that ridiculous flirting that happened each time, was basically a big red neon sign that said in capital letters BREAKUP! Such a distance, such an abyss, worse than Mariana's Trench!

Don't get me started on the amount of talks and planning that most likely went into applying for the buddy system. I thought that would shut people's mouths, but I guess it's a case of short memory and some lack of logic (common sense?) Hopefully this doesn't come out as a surprise, but you don't do that with a person with whom your relationship is a bit rocky or has been through a recent rough patch. Unless jikook are masochists and decided to spend 18 months together in an isolated unit near the border. Fun, right?

*This is for everyone else who will read this post. DO NOT take it as an invitation to use my inbox to share your opinions about break ups, breaks, distance, nature of relationship, timelines, etc. Your opinion over an uncofirmed relationship between JM and JK is not better than mine, nor is mine better than yours. Until jikook do a tell-all interview or they give a tour of their home, I don't care. I've heard everything. All the theories. Save yourself the time you'd spend on typing 300 words and then find yourself blocked. It's not worth it.

#m thoughts #jikook #jikook travel show #jikook are you sure

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stormblessed95 · 10 months ago

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Okay so I’m on my fourth watch of the travel show

It gets better the more you watch, they are just so much fun

They have me smiling from ear to ear the whole way through

I know there is a lot of conversation about the car conversation but seriously, apart from Jungkooks beautiful ‘finally’ (and I’m glad that is in English so we hear it without mistranslation), what struck me upon this watch, is that he could actually mean them being in content together.

Hear me out, but the kid spent the better part of the first half, and even to a degree still asking in the later half, of 2023 begging to go live with Jimin, inviting him over on lives. Including the bed begging live days after this filming, and now I’m framing it that he was probably thinking they have filmed this show, why can’t they have a live? I know that the show wasn’t going to be aired straight away but I can totally see him going with that thought.

But it just struck me, he’d been asking and probably denied so many times, whereas Jimin had gone live with Yoongi and Hobi etc during work promotions, but denied JK. This was his olive branch, his two birds one stone, a trip for them to spend time together when free, but also for them to be alone in content (albeit airing a year later atp). If we remember too that they could not leave SK without work and a permit, the chicken and egg, hence the show. Jimin had the time at that point to plan it with the company, it makes sense he pushed it, though I’m sure Jungkook was involved too.

People are moaning about Jungkooks attitude and they are so wrong and miserable, not to mention they misunderstand him. They guy is glowing with his Jimin, he’s being cheeky and kids around and it’s so beautiful to see it. To see their dynamic, as they are.

Seeing them say they hasn’t planned another trip in NY, and the Forbes article said this too, they must have thought it a success enough to plan jeju and so on. I think a post from another blogger here also helped frame this for me, bc at the end of the day they talked about and proposed the show, just the two of them, to the company and needed a deliverable product. This involved planning to a degree, scouting locations and a vague idea of activities. They definitely had more freedom than Bv, and they had to rely on their natural chemistry, which is there in spades, but they still had to deliver/ this is where Jimins panic comes in when he is sick, bc he has to power through to make the show work, hence the are you sure? It’s so logical when I think about it all in that framed way.

And mainly I think this also because they do not present as people who had had a falling out, or massive distance, or had issues, or something more ridiculous people are proposing. I mean logically do we really think Jimin (sensible Jimin) would even think it a good idea to do this if there was bad blood or feelings. Exactly, he would not. There was no tension there, not that I saw anyway. They just vibe with each other. They present as pretty domestic, in tune and loveable goofballs.

Also when you think about MS application being a month after this, they had to have seen and spoken to each other, it’s a complete reach to think they didn’t. Also, it’s their habit, Jimin literally said the same sentence in the very brief restaurant scene, that JK says to him in the doc and we know that was a complete fib. Also I feel the way JK looks at the camera in that scene and in the hand holding scene is very telling about how he felt around the cameras at first, especially when Jimin touches his throat, like he hesitated.

I also hold in mind that at the end of the day we got about 5/10% of their time on screen, the rest is on the cutting room floor, and also probably not even filmed (esp given Jimins condition). Leaving them plenty of time for them.

Just my thoughts.

#catching up on asks i missed from the first two episodes #sorry it took me so long anon #you got momentarily lost #jikook #kookmin #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show #jikook in 2023

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xurxogpenalta · 16 days ago

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Tall Almanos from the Elegg region are much taller than their counterparts from the tropical areas of the Molnnory, Known as the Mute Almano.  Out in the open terrain the Almano reaches 2 meters by their first cycle and some can reach 7 meters by sexual maturity. In the tropical forests they rarely go above 3,5 meters. Managing much more height under the tropical tree coverage would be a hinderance.   Height aids the Tall Almano with the air filtration. Permitting their circular respiration, with constant inhalation through their multiple nostrils situated under the large striations on their long necks. Through which they emit their characteristic uninterrupted whaling sounds with occasional loud chirps that can be heard all across the terrain. The chant known as the Almano Song, pushed to its louder registries acts also as deterrent for predators.  The complex language employed by the Almanos in their song is complex and allows constant communication among themselves as they keep a scattered herd. By mirroring the same chant with a slight variation they talk back and forth throughout the expansive terrain. Distances up to 10 Kilometres and even further subsonically. This way the Almano Song keeps the herd located and in contact at all times optimising the herds security, as well as scouting for best spots and procuring nutritional findings.  The constant chanting and replication is shared and modified simultaneously by each member of the herd. This external chorus is seen was a manifestation of the herds inner spirits and preoccupations. Shepherds follow the choirs chant to assess their wellbeing and monitor their attitude.  All Tall Almanos shepherds use protective gear, as their seemingly uninterrupted whistling sounds can easily reach 180 decibels. Even then, veteran shepherds tend to suffer severe hearing loss over time.  Contrary to popular belief, the Almano from the tropics, known as the Mute Almano, isn’t silent but it communicates mostly subsonically with its herd, which are much smaller and even more spread apart. Over the years, chant recording studies and analysis have demonstrated a clear use of similar language patterns for both species.  Derived from this perceived differences the Tall Almanos herds from the Elegg region, are popularly referred to as “Almano Choirs” and those who shepherd them colloquially known as “conductors” as well as the tropical Mute Almano, from the Molnnory, be considered a solitary species.

#xurxo g penalta #illustration #laseraw #comics #creature design

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narrativeglitch · 22 days ago

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BEA FIELD GUIDE EXCERPT:

Metkayina Clan Orientation Packet

Confidential | BEA Program Internal Document Prepared by: Field Integration Unit (R. Reyes & M. Socorro, verified by Tsahìk Ronal)

METKAYINA CLAN – REEFSIDE CULTURAL ZONE OVERVIEW

Location: Western Oceanic Shelf, near the edge of the Emerald Trench Estimated Population: ~250 members Primary Environment: Shallow coastal reef, tidal coves, and floating archipelagos Leadership: Olo’eyktan Tonowari (clan leader) and Tsahìk Ronal (spiritual leader)

“You are entering a space that has existed in balance long before we arrived. You are not explorers here you are guests. Act like it.” – Melissa Reyes, Integration Officer | Student Aid

1. Central Living Platforms

Main Village Platforms: Interconnected woven mats suspended over coral outcroppings. These are the clan’s living quarters. do not run, touch anchor knots, or step inside maruis (homes) unless invited.

Family Maruis: Dome-shaped thatched structures. Observe from a respectful distance unless guided.

Council Shade: Where leadership discussions and clan decisions occur. If summoned, speak only when spoken to.

2. Ilu Enclosures & Training Zone

Ilu Pens: Shallow pools bordered by reef walls. You may observe but do not attempt to touch or feed the ilu.

Training Ledges: Used by young Na’vi to practice riding. Occasionally, human aides (Spider, Melissa) may be permitted to assist here.

Launch Drop: Cliffs used for rites of passage. Access is restricted.

Note: BEA students are not authorized to ride ilu without direct invitation and escort.

3. Spirit Reef (Tidal Mirror)

Songstone Circle: Sacred ritual space used for chanting, bonding, and dream-sharing. Do not speak during rituals unless asked.

Eywa’s Mirror: A silent tidal pool used for spiritual clarity. Entry is strictly invitation-only.

Tsahìk Ronal has allowed limited student observation from the outer perimeter during clan-approved rites.

4. Cove of Ancestors (Restricted)

A sacred inlet where ancestral offerings are laid and family stones are placed.

No student access permitted unless explicitly guided by Ronal or Tonowari. Photography and scanning tools are banned here.

5. Healer’s Shelf

Half-submerged area used for medical treatment, herb preparation, and saltwater healing.

Tsahìk Ronal and healer trainees like Tsireya and Ka’mari work here.

Do not touch tools or samples. Wait outside the channel until addressed.

If injured in the field, you will be escorted here only after BEA triage has cleared initial response.

6. Watchline Ridges

Coral pillars used by Metkayina scouts and hunters to track weather, wildlife, or threats.

Shell whistles and woven flags are used as warning signals. Do not interfere with these markers.

Guided visits may occur with Aonung, Sraykì, or Rotxo under formal instruction.

7. Deep Water Rites Zone (Highly Restricted)

Includes submerged stone paths, bonding points for tulkun, and ceremonial arches.

Entry prohibited unless Tsahìk Ronal gives explicit clearance.

No student has received permission to dive past the tulkun line. Do not attempt to breach this zone.

8. Community Market & Gathering Pools

Daily activity hub. You may observe cooking, trade, craft weaving, and storytelling here.

Do not barter, mimic chants, or enter pools uninvited.

Many students find this a useful space for passive observation and relationship-building.

KEY REMINDERS

You are not Na’vi. You are here to learn, not to imitate.

Always follow your field aide’s lead. Spider and Melissa know where you are and are not welcome.

Eye contact is acceptable. Physical contact is not, unless clearly invited.

Do not comment on attire, tattoos, body markings, or family structure.

Never interrupt a rite, a song, or silence.

“They do not speak louder than the sea. Neither should we.” – Ronal, Tsahìk of the Metkayina

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jamweddingplannersblog · 4 months ago

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From handling guest accommodations to executing the timeline on your wedding day, a destination wedding planner ensures everything runs smoothly. Their expertise in troubleshooting last-minute issues is invaluable.

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A professional wedding planner provides a wide range of services to ensure your big day is nothing short of spectacular. Here’s what you can expect:

1. Venue Selection & Booking

The right venue sets the tone for your wedding. Your planner will shortlist breathtaking locations, handle negotiations, and book the ideal venue that aligns with your vision.

2. Budget Planning & Management

Weddings can be costly, especially when held at luxurious destinations. A professional planner will help allocate your budget wisely, ensuring no hidden expenses catch you by surprise.

3. Vendor Coordination

From world-class caterers to elite photographers, your planner will coordinate all vendor activities and ensure they meet the highest standards of service.

4. Legal Documentation & Permits

Each destination has different marriage laws and requirements. Your planner will assist with legal documentation, ensuring compliance with local regulations.

5. Guest Management & Accommodation

Arranging flights, accommodations, and transport for guests can be overwhelming. A wedding planner ensures all logistics are handled efficiently, providing a hassle-free experience for your guests.

6. Design & Décor Consultation

Creating a cohesive wedding theme requires expert design knowledge. Your planner will work with top decorators to bring your dream aesthetic to life.

7. Rehearsal Dinner & Pre-Wedding Events

Luxury destination weddings often include multiple events, such as welcome dinners, bridal showers, and post-wedding brunches. Your planner will organize and oversee all related celebrations.

8. Day-Of Coordination

On the wedding day, the planner will be on-site to handle every detail, ensuring the event flows perfectly, from the ceremony to the reception.

How to Choose the Best Luxury Destination Wedding Planner

Selecting the right wedding planner is crucial to the success of your destination wedding. Here are key factors to consider:

1. Experience & Portfolio

Review their previous work to gauge their expertise in planning luxury weddings. A strong portfolio with high-end events is a good indicator of their capabilities.

2. Reputation & Reviews

Look for testimonials from past clients. A reputable planner will have positive reviews and a strong industry reputation.

3. Destination Knowledge

Ensure the planner has experience in organizing weddings at your chosen destination. They should have in-depth knowledge of local venues, vendors, and legal requirements.

4. Customization Abilities

Your wedding should be unique. Choose a planner who is willing to customize every detail according to your vision rather than offering a one-size-fits-all package.

5. Communication & Responsiveness

Wedding planning involves constant communication. Ensure the planner is responsive, professional, and understands your needs clearly.

6. Pricing & Transparency

Luxury wedding planning is an investment. Ensure you understand the pricing structure and there are no hidden costs.

Top Luxury Destination Wedding Locations

If you’re still deciding on the perfect destination, here are some of the most sought-after locations for luxury weddings:

Amalfi Coast, Italy – A breathtaking coastal paradise with stunning cliffs and luxurious venues.

Santorini, Greece – Known for its iconic whitewashed buildings and romantic sunsets.

Bali, Indonesia – Offers a blend of exotic beaches, lush landscapes, and high-end resorts.

Paris, France – The city of love is a timeless choice for an elegant wedding.

Dubai, UAE – Features opulent venues, including beachfront resorts and desert palaces.

Maui, Hawaii – A tropical paradise with picturesque beaches and world-class resorts.

Final Thoughts

A luxury destination wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that deserves perfection in every aspect. Hiring a luxury destination wedding planner ensures that your wedding is flawlessly executed, allowing you to focus on celebrating love with your partner and guests.

At Jam Wedding Planner, we specialize in creating unforgettable destination weddings tailored to your unique vision. From exotic beach ceremonies to lavish palace weddings, we bring your dreams to life with impeccable planning and execution.

Ready to start planning your luxury wedding? Contact us today to make your destination wedding truly extraordinary!

#destination wedding planner dubai #luxury destination wedding planner

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dr-octavio-kalev · 8 months ago

Text

TW: Jimmy Savile, sexual abuse and exploitation, child abuse, psychological trauma, hospitals and terminal illness, manipulation and gaslighting, death and grief

Jimmy Savile and Margaret Thatcher at Mandeville Hospital (1977):

"The nurses tell the children to pretend to sleep when Savile came to visit."

Identification: Gaunt Scout

Lead Researcher: Dr. Öctavio Kalev

Abomination #: ANM-622-KV

Classification: Neutralized ✖️

Type of Anomaly: Manifesting, historical, humanoid

Type of Damage: Trauma, psychological, auditory, dream-related, public, child-related

Containment: ANM-622 must be contained within a standard humanoid containment cell located in Department-██. The cell should be constructed of reinforced steel and equipped with infrared and motion-activated cameras to monitor any erratic behavior inside. The lights within ANM-622's containment area should be kept at a minimum of 1000 lumens to deter the entity's activity.

An emergency set of strobe lights is installed outside the containment chamber and can be activated remotely by authorized personnel in case of any containment breach or unusual activity. Thermal sensors are positioned around the perimeter of ANM-622's cell to detect any abnormal temperature fluctuations. Any personnel assigned to observe ANM-622 must do so from a separate, sealed observation room.

Direct interaction with ANM-622 should be limited to testing protocols authorized by at least two Level 3 staff members. No one under the age of 18 is permitted within 30 meters of ANM-622's containment area at any time, including other anomalies. Any reports of ANM-622 appearing outside its containment cell should be treated as a potential containment breach, and immediate lockdown procedures must be enacted.

Description: ANM-622 is a humanoid entity resembling an extremely emaciated elderly man, approximately 3.92 meters tall, weighing 120 kilograms. Its skin is abnormally pale, with the bones of its ribs, shoulders, and limbs visibly protruding beneath the surface. The entire body of ANM-622 is covered with fine, depigmented hair, except for sparse reddish patches in certain areas of the chest, groin, and arms. The eyes are disproportionately large and dark, with severely dilated pupils, suggesting a high sensitivity to light.

The entity's posture is typically hunched, likely to facilitate movement in narrow spaces. Its chest is deformed, with a pronounced sunken area near the sternum consistent with pectus excavatum. ANM-622's hands are characterized by abnormally long fingers, each of similar length, including an extended thumb that is disproportionately long. The nails are thick, discolored, and sharp at the tips.

Behavior: ANM-622 exhibits a compulsion to observe human subjects through windows, with a particular focus on children. It is more active during nighttime or in low-light conditions, including rainy weather. When ANM-622 identifies a potential subject, it approaches the nearest window offering a clear view and begins to tap on the glass with one of its long fingers. The tapping sound produced is notably louder than expected, resonating with a deep "click" that unnaturally reverberates throughout the surrounding area.

Once ANM-622 has gained the subject's attention, it will maintain eye contact, remaining outside the window and staring directly at the individual. Witnesses report an overwhelming sense of dread and an inability to look away. In cases involving children, recurring nightmares often follow the encounter, with dreams frequently depicting ANM-622 whispering, waving, or lightly touching the back of the subject's neck or shoulders. If the subject remains in place for more than five minutes or continues to focus on ANM-622, the entity will attempt to vocalize. The sounds produced are a mixture of guttural noises, harsh breathing, and clicks, none of which resemble any known language. Prolonged exposure to these sounds has led to reported symptoms, including temporary auditory hallucinations, headaches, and vertigo.

Although ANM-622 has not demonstrated the ability to physically pass through solid barriers such as windows, there are several documented cases of its appearance inside rooms under certain conditions (see Incident Report 622-2 for details). The entity does not appear to show any interest in adult subjects unless they actively interfere with its focus on a child.

[[collapsible show="+ Incident Log 622-2" hide="- Close"]]

Incident Log 622-2: Containment Breach on ██/██/20██

During a routine observation of ANM-622, the entity was observed repeatedly approaching the glass of its containment cell and tapping in a rhythmic pattern. In response, Subject P (P-9742), equipped with a tracking collar and infrared camera, was dispatched to guide ANM-622 back to its cell. As P-9742 approached the entity, he reported auditory hallucinations of a voice resembling that of his deceased grandmother, speaking to him from inside the cell.

ANM-622 then placed its hand against the glass of an adjacent observation room, resulting in a rapid dimming of the internal lights. Thermal readings showed a sudden drop in temperature of nearly 15°C, with frost forming on the interior surface of the observation room window. Despite the environmental controls indicating no changes in external conditions, P-9742 described a profound sense of comfort and an irresistible urge to approach the entity.

The situation was resolved when the supervising researcher activated the emergency strobe lights, causing ANM-622 to retreat violently and return to its containment area. Subsequent investigations revealed that the dimming of the lights was not due to any known electrical failure, and the source of the temperature drop remains unexplained.

[[/collapsible]]

Addendum 622-3: Discovery

ANM-622 was first documented following a series of reports at Stoke Mandeville Hospital, United Kingdom. The reports described cases of children waking up in the middle of the night and seeing "a tall, old man" outside their bedroom windows. Local police had previously investigated multiple occurrences of sexual abuse within the hospital, as well as erratic electrical disturbances and sudden cold spots. A recorded photograph of a vaguely humanoid silhouette outside a child's window led to the deployment of MOTHRA Institute agents for investigation.

Field agents discovered that ANM-622 exhibited a pattern of appearance in low-light conditions, primarily targeting children. Following the identification of ANM-622, Class A amnestics were administered to the affected families, and a cover story was disseminated about disturbances and local hysteria.

Addendum 622-4: Ongoing Research

Several tests have been conducted to understand ANM-622's compulsion towards children and its ability to affect the environment. Initial theories suggest that ANM-622 is attracted to feelings of fear, particularly from younger individuals, which may act as a stimulus or form of sustenance. This hypothesis is supported by observations of increased activity during heightened emotional states.

Addendum 622-5: Jimmy Savile

Researchers examined historical records involving Stoke Mandeville Hospital, and the analysis revealed multiple cases mentioning an abnormally tall and thin figure observed near orphanages, children's hospitals, and private properties associated with prominent figures.

A review of public records uncovered a disturbing pattern of unexplained occurrences and reports of a "tall, pale man" at locations connected to the late entertainer and convicted sex offender known as "Jimmy Savile," who was accused of involvement in over 400 cases of sexual abuse, including young children and terminally ill patients. The MOTHRA investigation into these reports aimed to determine whether ANM-622 had a connection to Savile's documented activities, potentially serving as an accomplice, facilitator, or a manifestation resulting from the extreme psychological trauma inflicted on his victims.

On ██/██/19██, a nurse working at the hospital reported seeing a tall and emaciated figure outside one of the children's wards at night. The nurse described a "skeletal man" hunched near a window, slowly tapping on the glass. Security footage from the night in question showed an indistinct figure matching Jimmy Savile's physical shape; no alarms were triggered, and no evidence of entry was found. The affected child, aged six, later reported having nightmares about "a tall man" who spoke to them "with voices that sounded like many people."

The hospital was a frequent destination for Savile, who was known to visit under the pretext of charity work. Similar reports from other institutions visited by Savile over the years emerged during the investigation. Most notably, these accounts included statements from children describing recurring dreams of "the man at the window," often coinciding with times when Savile was present in the same building.

Research into ANM-622's activities raised the possibility that its behavior might be connected to cases of significant psychological trauma, especially involving children. Some researchers theorize that ANM-622 may act as a "fear feeder," attracted to intense emotional distress and sustaining itself on fear, dread, or despair. The correlation between its sightings and locations associated with Jimmy Savile's abuse suggests that ANM-622 might have been drawn to the lingering trauma in these areas.

The theory further speculates that Savile himself may have been aware of ANM-622, either intentionally or subconsciously. Some survivor testimonies describe feeling an overwhelming sense of cold and a sensation of "being watched" that did not align solely with Savile's physical presence. In several instances, these descriptions were accompanied by mentions of a tall, skeletal figure in the background of the rooms.

Although there is no direct evidence linking Savile to ANM-622 beyond circumstantial connections, there is a hypothesis that ANM-622 may have manifested more frequently or with greater activity near places where Savile's crimes occurred, possibly as a reflection or amplifier of the collective trauma.

In an effort to establish more concrete evidence of ANM-622's presence, researchers conducted interviews with individuals who had been exposed to Savile's abuses and also reported sightings of a "tall man." The following excerpts summarize notable findings:

Survivor 622-A: The subject was a former patient at [REDACTED] Hospital in the early 1980s. They recalled a strange figure outside the window one night, described as "white and bony, like it was starving." The entity allegedly tapped on the glass and stared directly at the subject, who experienced recurring dreams afterward. In these dreams, the subject reported hearing Savile's voice along with a faint clicking noise that grew louder as the entity approached.

Survivor 622-B: The subject, a former resident of a children's care home visited by Savile, claimed to have seen "a very tall man" lurking near the property's outer fence at night. The subject's nightmares after the incident involved both Savile and the figure, with Savile speaking to the tall man in an incomprehensible language. The subject reported feelings of sleep paralysis and cold sweat during these dreams.

Incident 622-7: Anomalous Manifestation During Testing

On ██/██/20██, during an authorized psychological test involving ANM-622 and a Subject P with a history of childhood trauma associated with abuse, ANM-622 displayed unexpected behavior. When the subject was instructed to recount their traumatic experiences, ANM-622 approached the observation window and began tapping rapidly, producing a clicking sound described as resembling human speech when analyzed with audio software. The sound pattern, when processed, matched phonetic markers consistent with Savile's voice as recorded in archival footage.

Following this event, the room's temperature dropped abruptly, and the subject entered a catatonic state, remaining unresponsive for several hours. After recovering, the subject claimed to have heard a conversation between two distinct voices during the event: one they recognized as ANM-622's guttural tone, and the other they identified as Savile's. The nature of this connection remains speculative but suggests a deeper relationship between the entity and environments or individuals connected to extreme trauma.

[[collapsible show="+ Interview Log 622-8" hide="- Close"]]

Date: ██/██/2008

Interviewer: Dr. ███████

Interviewee: Jimmy Savile

Location: [REDACTED]

Context: Following increasing reports of an entity resembling ANM-622 manifesting at locations previously visited by Jimmy Savile, Institute personnel arranged an interview under the pretext of an investigative documentary. The aim was to assess Savile's potential knowledge of ANM-622 and its possible connection to the anomaly.

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. ███████: Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mr. Savile. I'd like to discuss some of your charity work, particularly at hospitals and care homes. You've spent a lot of time visiting children's facilities, haven't you?

Savile: Oh yes, I've been a regular visitor to many hospitals and care homes over the years. It's always good to bring a bit of joy to the children, you know? [Smiles]. You'd be surprised how much a friendly face can do.

Dr. ███████: Yes, I'm sure. During those visits, did you ever notice anything... unusual? Perhaps something outside the buildings, or even inside?

Savile: [Laughs]. Ah, now you're talking! People always say these old places are full of ghosts, don't they? But I've never seen anything like that, unless you count the old nurses. [Winks].

Dr. ███████: Actually, I'm referring to reports from children who mentioned seeing a "tall man" outside their windows during your visits. Some described him as pale and thin, with a hollow chest. Have you ever heard anything like that?

Savile: [The smile fades slightly. He looks away before shrugging]. Children, eh? Good heavens! They have such vivid imaginations. Maybe they saw someone passing by, perhaps a gardener or a security guard. Kids get frightened by all sorts of things when they're stuck in those beds, poor little things.

Dr. ███████: Some of these reports also mentioned unusual sensations. Cold spots in rooms, flickering lights... even a knocking sound on windows. Does that sound familiar to you?

Savile: [Leans back, appearing slightly agitated]. I've heard the stories, of course. But that's all they are, stories. Nothing more than kids making things up or trying to get a bit of attention. You know how it is. [Smiles again, but it seems forced this time].

Dr. ███████: Mr. Savile, I'll be direct. We have information suggesting that during some of these incidents, you were present at the locations where the children reported seeing the figure. It seems to happen more often when you're around. Why do you think that is?

Savile: [The smile disappears completely. Savile's tone becomes defensive]. I don't know what you're implying, doctor. I've done nothing but good for those children. I brought joy and raised money for their hospitals. Are you trying to say I had something to do with some bogeyman stories?

Dr. ███████: I'm not implying anything, Mr. Savile. I'm simply trying to understand why these sightings are so often linked to your presence. Some children even described hearing a voice resembling yours, speaking alongside the knocking on the windows.

Savile: [Visibly uncomfortable, he shifts in his chair, making a smiling yet irritated expression]. Kids say all sorts of things, don't they? Sometimes they hear voices in their dreams, things that scare them. But those are just nightmares, nothing more. I can't help it if they have overactive imaginations.

Dr. ███████: Let's talk about a specific incident from 1982, at [REDACTED] Hospital. A nurse reported seeing a tall, skeletal figure outside the children's ward. Security footage captured a figure identical to you. You were there that night. Do you recall anything out of the ordinary?

Savile: [The subject's demeanor changes, becoming unusually calm]. I've been in many hospitals, many nights, doctor. There are always shadows. There are always noises. If you're trying to pin something on me, you'll need to come up with more than ghost stories.

Dr. ███████: I'm not accusing you of anything, Mr. Savile. I'm interested in knowing if you've ever felt... accompanied during these visits. Some people have described a feeling of being watched. Have you ever experienced anything like that?

Savile: [Long pause. Savile's expression is unreadable. He speaks slowly]. There are always eyes watching, doctor. In hospitals, on the streets, everywhere you go. [Leans slightly forward, lowering his voice]. Sometimes, it's the people you least expect who see the most. But you already know that, don't you?

Dr. ███████: What do you mean by that?

Savile: [Sits back, smiling again, but his eyes remain cold]. Oh, nothing really. I'm just an old man who did a bit of good in his spare time. If you want to go chasing after fantastic stories about bogeymen, be my guest. But don't come knocking at my door when you find there's nothing there. [Pauses]. Or maybe... it's not nothing. Maybe it's something you don't want to find.

Dr. ███████: Mr. Savile, one last question. Do you believe in the idea that some things can feed on fear? That perhaps the terror experienced by children could attract... something?

Savile: [The smile returns, wider than before]. Oh, doctor, fear is a powerful thing. It can drive people to do all sorts of things, see all sorts of things. If there's something that feeds on it, well... there certainly isn't a shortage of food, is there?

[END LOG]

---

Jimmy Savile demonstrated a complex ability to manipulate his own body language, often using evasive or ambiguous speech patterns to deflect questioning or obscure the truth. His conversational style frequently employed nonlinear responses, digressions, and humor to create confusion or redirect attention away from sensitive topics. These tactics allowed him to manipulate interviews and investigations, consistently avoiding consequences by shifting narratives in his favor.

Some linguists at the MOTHRA Institution theorized that Savile's use of language went beyond mere rhetorical skill and bordered on the anomalous. In several documented cases, interviewers and law enforcement agents reported feeling disoriented, forgetful, or mentally impaired after prolonged interactions with Savile. This phenomenon may suggest that Savile had an unconscious or latent ability to influence others through his speech, possibly compelling them to disregard or downplay any allegations against him.

Savile maintained close relationships with various influential individuals, including former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, members of the British royal family, and senior BBC officials. His connections granted him not only access to powerful social circles but also a level of protection that extended far beyond the reach of the average celebrity.

Several reports indicate that Savile's ties to figures like Margaret Thatcher may have played a crucial role in shielding him from prosecution. Internal documents and testimonies suggest that allegations made against him were repeatedly dismissed, suppressed, or "lost" by law enforcement agencies. Requests to investigate Savile were often met with resistance or completely derailed, possibly due to his network of powerful allies who were complicit in his activities or fearful of the potential consequences if his crimes were exposed.

Following Savile's death from pneumonia on October 29, 2011, all reported sightings of ANM-622 ceased completely. Before Savile's death, ANM-622 had been observed intermittently, with manifestations predominantly occurring at locations associated with trauma or where Savile had frequented during his lifetime. The abrupt end to these activities after his death suggests a potential connection between Savile and the entity, either as a direct or indirect influence on its manifestations.

The cessation of ANM-622's activity raised questions about the true nature of its existence and whether it was somehow linked to Savile's life force, influence, or actions. Further research into residual anomalies and long-term psychological effects on individuals exposed to ANM-622 is ongoing, although no new manifestations have been reported since Savile's death. As of this latest review, ANM-622 has been provisionally classified as Neutralized, pending any future reappearances.

The content of this interview has been classified as Level 4 access due to the sensitive nature of the subject matter and possible connections to anomalous phenomena.

#scp #scp foundation #mothra institution #writing #anomaly #horror #original scp

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