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dixons-sunshine · 3 days

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Not An Abomination | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Coming across the church seemed like a real blessing to your group. The priest was nice enough to open the doors and showed you all nothing but kindness—that is, until he made the ingenious move to insult Daryl.

Genre: I don't really know, but there's some fluff towards the end.

Era: Post Terminus.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/n: I didn't have the time to rewatch the episodes of the church again, so I improvised. Hope that's okay lol. Anyways, I hope you like this!

“You have a beautiful baby,” the priest, Gabriel, told you as you walked around, scanning the interior of the church. “She's truly a blessing from above.”

You turned around to face the older man, Judith clinging to you and fiddling with your necklace as a way to keep herself entertained. You glanced down at the almost one year old little girl before looking back up at Gabriel. “Oh, she's not mine.” You jiggled the baby a bit when she started fussing, pulling a funny face at her and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. You smiled fondly and smoothed some of her wispy hair, before shifting your attention back to the priest. “Rick's her father. Her mother... She passed away during childbirth.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” Gabriel responded, a look of sadness spreading across his face. “But she's in much better hands now. The Lord will take care of her now.”

“The baby or her mother?”

Gabriel smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. “Both. The Lord is good to everyone, here on earth or in heaven.” The priest looked up at the wooden cross and sighed in content. “He's been good to me, and I haven't always deserved it.”

You looked at Gabriel thoughtfully. “What are you—”

“Rick! People! They've got guns!” Glenn suddenly called out from somewhere outside the church. His words barely reached your ears before bullets came flying through the windows.

Instinctively, you ducked down behind one of the seats and covered Judith's small body to protect her from any stray bullets. Judith let out a loud cry, her small fists clutching your shirt in distress. Gabriel hid with you, panicking. Making a quick decision, you handed Judith over to the priest and grabbed your gun from your waistband.

“Go to your office and lock the door!” you shouted, disabling the safety on your weapon and cocking it. “I'll cover you. Keep her safe!” You stood up and started shooting at the ambushers. When Gabriel made no effort to make a run for the office, you raised your voice again. “Are you fucking deaf?! Go!” You shot at a person climbing through the window. “Fucking GO!” Gabriel finally scrambled up to his feet and adjusted Judith in his arms. With one last look to the chaos that unfolded in his church, he made a break for his office.

With Judith out of immediate danger, your attention fully shifted to the intruders. You ducked back down when more bullets flew in your direction. You felt a hand grip your shoulder and you quickly whipped around, your gun raised to shoot at the person or walker. However, you were instead met with the striking blue eyes of the man you had come to develop feelings for. On closer inspection, however, you could see flecks of red seeping into the blue, a clear sign that he hadn't fed in days.

“S'jus' me!” Daryl assured you quickly. When you visibly relaxed, Daryl grabbed your hand and pulled you up with him. The two of you ran towards the door and hid behind the wood. Daryl shot his crossbow at one of the people outside before moving to hide again. “Ya see anybody in our group yet?”

“No. They were all checking the back of the church for that bus Abraham saw when all of this happened.” You gasped when a bullet broke through the wood and nearly grazed the side of your face. The only reason it didn't was because Daryl's senses alerted him to the danger and he pulled you back at just the right moment. “Shit. Thanks.”

“Dun' mention it.” Daryl gently grabbed your gun out of your hand and took a shot at the person, successfully hitting them right between the eyes.

Everything fell silent after that. No more gunshots could be heard, and that made you let out a sigh of relief. Slowly, you crept out of the church with Daryl following closely behind you, his trained eyes scanning for any threats that could still linger. However, once you caught a glimpse of your group, every member relatively unscathed, you sped up your pace and rushed over to them.

Michonne was the first to notice you. She gasped in relief and brought you into a tight hug, one which you reciprocated in an instant. When you pulled away, you were tackled in a hug by Carl, which made you chuckle in surprise.

“I thought you died in there,” he told you when he pulled back, taking a step back to grant you your personal space again. “We heard yelling and thought that they got you.” He stopped once he realized that Judith wasn't with you. “Judith? Where's—”

“She's fine,” you instantly reassured both him and Rick, who you saw was anxiously looking at you for an answer. “She's with Gabriel. They're locked in his office. He—”

Suddenly, a loud bang of a gunshot could be heard, and it was closely followed by a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You cried out in agony and instantly gripped your arm, nearly tumbling down to the ground. Michonne quickly steadied you, however, and you turned around while being brought tightly against her side in a protective gesture while the rest of the members of your group reloaded their weapons.

A man stood a few feet away from you, his body bloody and a gun being shakily held in his hand. He quickly cocked the gun again to attempt another shot at someone before he was ultimately killed, but his attempts were quickly proven futile. Without so much as a noise, Daryl stood behind him in seconds. His fangs elongated and the archer sunk them into the ambusher's neck.

The guy cried out in pain, but it was soon silenced when Daryl snapped his neck with little to no effort. The archer hesitated for a few seconds longer, savouring the taste of the blood for a few moments before withdrawing, letting the dead man fall down to the ground. Daryl slowly turned back to look at all of you, expecting to see terror written across all of your faces, but was relieved when he was instead met with looks of gratitude and understanding.

“Good Lord.”

Everyone's attention was diverted to someone standing behind Daryl. The archer turned around and locked eyes with the priest, who looked at him with the terror he had expected to see on all of your faces. Gabriel was holding Judith close to his chest, and Daryl was sure if it wasn't for the fact that he was holding the baby, Gabriel would've bolted by now.

“Gabriel, I'm gonna need you to calm down,” Rick began, slowly walking towards him with an outstretched hand. Everyone else closely followed behind, ready to offer your leader support should he need it. “There's no need to start acting irrational here.”

“Irrational?” Gabriel asked rhetorically, laughing in obvious terror. “How would I be the irrational one here? This... thing killed that man with his bare hands. He snapped his neck like it was nothing. And he drank his blood! That's not normal. That's... That's the work of the devil.” Gabriel took a fearful step back, looking at Daryl, who had blood messily dripping down from his mouth. “You're the devil! I let the devil into God's house. You're something that I've only ever heard tales about. You're a monster. You're an abomination.”

Daryl pursed his lips and ducked his head in shame. However, he raised his head again when he saw someone move past him. He saw you standing in front of Gabriel and gently taking Judith from his arms. He didn't miss the way you hissed in pain when you held the baby in your arms, or the way you winced when you handed Judith over to Carl and the boy accidentally touched your arm. He also certainly didn't miss the way you spun back around and clocked the priest right in the face, his nose crunching under the harsh pressure of your knuckles.

“Fucking hell!” you cried out in pain. You realized a little too late that you probably shouldn't have used your injured arm to swing that punch, but there wasn't anything you could do about it now. Daryl was by your side in seconds, looking you over and assessing the damage that dead bastard inflicted on you with that bullet. Luckily, it was only a graze, but he knew it would still hurt like hell. You looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile, your heart fluttering at the archer's obvious care. “I'm fine, I promise.”

“Let's get one thing straight,” Rick began, recapturing your attention, as well as Daryl's. “I don't care what your beliefs are or how you choose to honour them, but with us around for the foreseeable future, we're not gonna take this shit again. Daryl is one of us. He stuck his neck out to protect this place. He didn't have to do that for you. He killed that man because he shot one of our own.” Rick motioned towards you before continuing. “How he did it doesn't matter. What he is doesn't matter. What he needs to eat or drink to survive doesn't matter. He's part of our family, and nothing is going to change that, not even the fact that he's a vampire. Now you have a problem with that, I promise you, we have absolutely no problem with leaving you to the walkers next time.”

With that, Rick stalked off towards the church, everyone else closely following behind. Gabriel cowered under everyone's harsh glares, recoiling with every harsh word thrown his way.

“Fucking asshole,” Maggie voiced, glaring at the priest distastefully.

“Gon' leave you to die next time, shitdick.” Abraham closely followed behind Maggie, soon disappearing into the church.

“Ungrateful ass,” Michonne spat angrily, her glare burning into the side of Gabriel's head.

You and Daryl were the last ones to enter the building. The archer lead you to one of the benches to sit down, taking your arm in his hand and carefully examining the graze more closely this time. You hissed in pain when Daryl twisted your arm too hard, and he sent you an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

You shook your head and sent him a small smile. “It's okay.” Daryl hummed before chuckling, making you frown. “What's so funny?”

“Nothin',” he quickly deflected, shaking his head. “Jus' amazed how ya got shot and ya still managed to put a guy on his ass.”

You laughed and shrugged. “I wasn't about to let that asshole call you an abomination. You're not. I hope you know that.”

Daryl didn't believe that, but he wasn't about to ruin the mood with his insecurities, so instead he just nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He grabbed the piece of red fabric that he always kept on his person and held it over your wound to stop the bleeding, making a mental note to go get some water later to clean the wound somewhat until he could find something better. “Still amazed tha' ya put a guy on his ass when ya were shot, though.”

You giggled. “What can I say? I'm just amazing like that.”

You were only joking, and Daryl knew that. However, you certainly didn't know how right you were to him. You were amazing. You were so amazing to him. And someday he hoped that he would be able to express to you just how amazing he thought you were.

However, not at that moment. No, at that moment, he'd simply enjoy your company, and be happy about the fact that the people he had come to care for so deeply didn't view him as the monster he saw himself as. That meant so much more to him than any of you would ever know. Just for that small moment, even though dead bodies were littered outside the church and everyone had just narrowly escaped being shot at, he was at peace.

However, something always came along to disturb that peace, because later that night, when everyone was celebrating and making plans to head to DC, you and Daryl were speeding off after a car, with only one objective in mind; you had to save Beth.

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permanentswaps · 2 days

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Fun During The Swap Flu - Post Pandemic

Two Years Later:

It’s been two years since the swap flu outbreak, and the world has mostly gone back to normal. There's a vaccine now, and swaps are rare and usually short-lived. The swap-back rate is now at about 99.97%, which the experts say is good enough.

I’d have to agree – but not for the reason most people do. As you might have guessed, I’m part of that (in my opinion very lucky) 0.03%.

If we're being honest, I pop a boner everytime I think about it.

My brother Roger has taken it hard. He’s protested nonstop, dragging us to doctor after doctor. “It’s just not fair,” he’d say, frustration clear in his voice. “We’re supposed to swap back like everyone else!”

“I know, Roger,” I’d reply, feeling a mix of guilt and helplessness. “But the doctors keep saying there’s nothing they can do.”

Each visit felt like a rerun. We’d both introduce ourselves as Jared, which left the doctors baffled. Cases like ours, where one person wanted to swap back and the other didn’t, were rare to say the least. Every time, the doctors would conclude the same: “There’s no known solution. You’re in that rare percentage where the swap appears permanent.”

Outside these appointments, I’ve hidden the truth that I’m a “long swapper.” I lied to my friends, claiming we’d swapped back. Whenever Roerg tried to reconnect, I’d tell them, “He’s struggling with being in his old body again. Can you blame him?” I’d flex my muscles playfully, and they’d laugh along with me.

Alex, one of my new friends, once remarked, “Man, you kept yourself in amazing shape. I get why he's having a hard time giving it up.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” I replied, flexing my arm and grinning.

In truth, even if they find a cure, I’m confident that at this point nobody would believe him to swap us back anyway.

Then there’s Arthur, that guy who was in my DMs when I first got this body. At first, I was just exploring and looking for a quick fuck. Arthur’s profile caught my eye, and his first message was direct: “Damn, you’re hot.”

“Glad you noticed,” I replied, feeling a thrill of excitement. Once I got over the paranoia of quarantine, we met up. And the chemistry was immediate. We spent hours talking and fooling around, and I found myself wanting more than just a casual hookup.

Eventually, I realized I was in Jared’s body permanently and decided it was okayto pursue a serious relationship with Arthur. One evening, after a romantic dinner, I decided it was time to take the next step. We were cuddled up in bed, the room dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere.

“Arthur,” I said, my voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “I’ve been thinking... I don’t want this to be just casual anymore. I want us to be official.”

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly, then softened. “You mean it? You really want to be with me, just me?”

“Absolutely,” I said, my heart pounding. “You mean so much to me. I want to make this real.”

Arthur’s response was a deep, passionate kiss. “I’ve wanted this too,” he murmured against my lips. “I’ve fallen for you, Jared. Completely.”

That night, our intimacy reached a new level. As we kissed, Arthur’s hands roamed over my body, and I felt his touch ignite every nerve. “I want you,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “I want to be inside you.”

“Yes,” I breathed, my body trembling with anticipation. “Please, Arthur.”

Arthur positioned himself between my legs, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly entered me, filling me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. “You feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

“You too,” I gasped, my body arching in response. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending waves of ecstasy through me. His lips found mine in a searing kiss, our breaths mingling as we moved together.

As his pace quickened, Arthur’s hands slid up to my chest, his fingers teasing my nipples. “You like this?” he asked, his voice a low murmur filled with desire.

“Fuck, yes,” I moaned, my body responding eagerly to his touch. His fingers pinched and rolled my nipples, sending electric jolts of pleasure straight to my cock. I could feel the tension building, a tight coil ready to snap.

Arthur’s thrusts became more insistent, his hands working my nipples with expert precision. “I want to make you cum, Jared,” he whispered, his voice commanding yet tender. “I want you to cum just from this.”

“Oh God,” I groaned, my hips bucking as the pleasure became almost unbearable. “Arthur, I’m so close…”

“Cum for me,” he urged, his eyes locked onto mine. His fingers twisted my nipples just right, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside me.

With a final, powerful thrust and a twist of his fingers, the coil inside me snapped. I cried out, my body shuddering violently as I came, my cock pulsing and twitching without a single touch. The intensity of the orgasm left me breathless, my head spinning with the sheer force of the pleasure.

Arthur groaned, following me over the edge as he filled me, his body trembling with his release. He kissed me deeply, capturing my moans with his lips, and I felt a profound connection in that moment – a perfect melding of our bodies and souls.

As we lay there, our bodies still entwined, I looked into Arthur’s eyes and saw the same contentment and love I felt. “You’re incredible,” I panted, my heart still racing. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Arthur smiled, brushing his lips over mine. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” he murmured, his eyes shining with affection.

---

Our relationship continued to grow, and soon Arthur’s work contract was nearing its end. “I have to move back to Buenos Aires,” he said one evening over dinner. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Buenos Aires?” I echoed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “What would I do there?”

“There’s nothing tying you here, right?” he asked, squeezing my hand. “We can start fresh there. You can find work, and we can build a life together.”

“I’m ready for this adventure,” I said, a thrill of excitement running through me. “Let’s do it.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of preparations. I got a new passport, and we packed our bags, each item a reminder of our life here and a promise for the new one we were about to build. The night before our flight, we lay in bed, wrapped around each other, the anticipation electric between us.

“Tomorrow, everything changes,” Arthur whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on my chest. “Are you nervous?”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted, my hand resting on his. “But I’m also really excited. I can’t wait to start this new life with you.”

Arthur’s eyes sparkled in the dim light. “You’re going to love Buenos Aires. The culture, the energy – it’s intoxicating. And I can’t wait to show you everything.”

Our lips met in a slow, passionate kiss, and soon we were lost in each other again, our bodies moving in a rhythm that had become so familiar and yet still so thrilling. That night, Arthur made love to me with an intensity that spoke volumes about his feelings. As he thrust into me, his hands roamed my body, his touch both tender and possessive.

“I want you to remember this,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. “I want you to feel me with you as we start this new chapter.”

“I will,” I gasped, my body arching into his touch. “I’ll always remember this.”

As Arthur moved inside me, his hands found my nipples, teasing and pinching them in a way that sent shivers of pleasure through me. I felt my orgasm building again, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust. “Arthur,” I moaned, my voice breathless. “I’m so close…”

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice husky with desire. “Cum for me, Jared.”

With those words, I let go, my body surrendering to the pleasure. The orgasm that followed was intense and overwhelming, a perfect culmination of our connection. Arthur held me close as we came together, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating in unison.

As we lay there, spent and satisfied, I knew I had made the right decision. Buenos Aires was just the beginning of our adventure, and I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 day

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I was wondering if there were any fics where after season 1 or 2 Derek becomes a teacher at BHHS, preferably Sterek but if not than that's fine!

Hi anon! Raiven made this list and says "I couldn't find any for specifically after s1/2, so heres some teacher!derek with a side of sterek!"

Bad ideas (ans good results) by MysticRadio_Fivesososnotonfire (38/38 | 47,345 | Explicit | Sterek) Derek Hale is a 24 year old University professor in Beacon Hills and he’s always been a student favourite, well expect for one student. Stiles Stilinski, an snarky, arrogant and lazy 21 year old who must just be taking the classes for fun as he sure as hell ain’t passing them.

Teacher’s Pet by MemoriesArePain (30/30 | 43,496 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles makes a profile on an app suggested by Scott after a year of not really dating post a break up from a mildly abusive relationship. After all, it's where Scott and Isaac met. What could go wrong? Stiles begins sexting a dominant guy on there, not realizing that it will turn out to be his law professor in a week when classes start. They both remain anonymous at first, and they continue on into the beginning of the school year. Things get complicated when they meet of course.

Derek makes a profile after his messy divorce, needs some fun and nothing complicated. Of course, it wouldn't stay that way. No matter how hard he tries he can't deny the feelings he's developing. He's screwed.

Know That Golden Rule by DerRumtreiber (9/15 | 38,636 | Explicit | Sterek) “So what, I’m just supposed to waltz back into their lives? And they’ll just accept me as their alpha again?”

“Yes!” Stiles practically shouts. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I mean, ideally, you never would have left in the first place—”

“You told me to leave.”

Stiles ignores him. “ —never would have left in the first place. But you did. And now you’re back, and you’re going to fix what you broke.”

Or, the one where Derek leaves for a year and comes back with a teaching degree and a job at Beacon Hills High School.

When History Met Science by JossWritesSometimes (11/11 | 31,339 | Teen | Sterek) Professor Derek Hale has been teaching History for three years, and has painstakingly kept his private life, private. He would not consider himself a lonely man (no matter what his sister says). Until a certain biology professor, Stiles Stilisnki, arrives at the university. From mistaking him for a student, to becoming friends, could Stiles be the person that makes Derek want to give love another chance?

When the Teacher Met the Agent by JossWritesSometimes (7/7 | 16,828 | Not Rated | Sterek) Derek Hale has been a teacher for almost five years in NYC, but this year he is back in Beacon Hills and has taken his first job as a Kindergarten teacher. However, unlike in NYC, he has multiple Supernatural students, which is something he was not expecting. Especially a certain Stiles Stilinski, who smells...weird. Who is this boy who runs with wolves, and why can't he get him out of his head?

Snippets from them meeting to maybe, possibly, falling in love.

This is what I went to school for by TalesoftheEnchantedForest (1/1 | 10,906 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is a music teacher who's advice to a struggling Eli leads to meeting the sexiest man on Earth, falling for one of his students' dad (literally), and then dating the Spanish teacher at their school. Who are all the same guy, actually.

Stiles is set on making this relationship as romcom-worthy as possible. They just have to work on their communication first.

The New Teacher by TwistedAmusement13 & everchanginginnks (1/1 | 9,562 | Mature | Sterek) Derek, a world-weary English teacher pushing 40, is roped into a wet night out by his best friends. He finds himself charmed by a flirty college student who introduces himself as Stiles. They share an incredible night, but Stiles leaves before Derek wakes up. Thinking that he'll never see Stiles again, Derek bitterly gets ready for work at Beacon Hills High School. He's in for a bit of shock when he's introduced to the newly hired science teacher...

Trick or Treat, Mr. Hale? By literaryoblivion (1/1 | 5,247 | Explicit | Sterek) The tardy bell sounds, ringing loudly, and Derek stands from his desk.

“Alright, settle down,” he says, raising his voice to make sure his students that are still laughing and talking will hear him. “We’re picking up where we left off yesterday, page 138, the Civil War. Now, who can tell me what battle--”

The classroom door swings open, and all the eyes in the class snap to the movement. Derek tries not to react when he sees who it is, tries to make sure his face is a mix of sternness and disappointment when his infamously tardy troublemaker of a student waltzes in with a smirk.

“Stiles,” he says in a sigh.

the shape of my heart by Winchesterek (1/1 | 4,807 | Mature | Sterek) Stiles never thought he'd meet someone like Derek. Someone that was in a similar situation as he was - raising kids that weren't biologically his. It was even wilder because Derek was his god daughters first grade teacher and she was best friends with Derek's niece and nephew.

And Derek was hot. So hot that Stiles couldn't help ogling him every time they spent any amount of time around each other, including play dates and lunch in the school cafeteria with their kids. So Derek asking him out for Valentine's Day? That was just icing on the cake. Plus, Stiles was already head over heels for him.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teacher!derek #student/teacher #anon

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aziraphales-library · 3 days

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Hello!

I cannot thank you enough for everything you do for the fandom. It’s so incredibly kind and amazing and cool of you to do this :) I know that this might be a bit specific, but I’d still like to ask if you could recommend any fics where Aziraphale has either been hurt or has gone through something traumatizing but he hasn’t told Crowley about it, because he thinks that it doesn’t matter, but eventually Crowley finds out and comforts him. (Like in not alone by Lalaland666) it would be awesome if it could also not be a AU, but it can be.

Thank you so so so so much, I hope that you have a wonderful day :D

Hi! Here are some fics in which Aziraphale is struggling, Crowley finds out why and comforts him. Mind the tags and warnings on a few of these!...

A Shadow In The Light by VinnieTheDuck (T)

While having a nice walk in Saint James Park, then having quite the homophobic encounter, Crowley says something during it that accidentally triggers Aziraphale.

let your guard down, for me by ineffableserpent (T)

Aziraphale has never fully calmed down, per say. He’d been able to reign himself in back to a state of functioning, trying to busy himself with other tasks to avoid spiraling once more. Crowley, the angel had discovered, was an immense source of comfort. … He didn’t wish for the demon to find out about his anxiety, as much as Aziraphale oh so desperately wanted to confide in him. But that would lead to Crowley becoming upset, and inevitably, upset with Heaven — considering that Upstairs has almost always been the source of the angel’s anxious responses. Aziraphale has always been able to keep a brave face — to appear as the guardian he was made to be. No matter how many nights he spent alone and gasping for air, begging for his body to cooperate, he always made it out in the end. Until tonight, that is.

Father of War by AraniWrites (T)

There were three things Crowley could depend on every day with complete certainty. One, that Aziraphale loved him utterly and completely, just as much as he loved him in turn. Two, that he could consistently count on the angel to be present within their shared flat above the old bookshop, engrossed in his books for days and weeks at a time, only broken by Crowley’s presence. Three, that they had agreed not to lie to one another again, and both had upheld their agreement faithfully. He had never had reason to doubt these three truths. That is, until today.

The Penitent Man by charliebrown1234 (M)

"I believe that very few men are capable of estimating the immense amount of torture and agony which this dreadful punishment, prolonged for years, inflicts upon the sufferers; ... I am only the more convinced that there is a depth of terrible endurance in which none but the sufferers themselves can fathom... I hold this slow and daily tampering with the mysteries of the brain to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body; and because its ghastly signs and tokens are not so palpable to the eye and sense of touch as scars upon the flesh; because its wounds are not upon the surface, and it extorts few cries that human ears can hear; therefore the more I denounce it, as a secret punishment which slumbering humanity is not roused up to stay." - Charles Dickens on Solitary Confinement at Eastern State Penitentiary, 1842 Aziraphale and Crowley become trapped in an elevator post-Apocalypse, which brings back bad memories for Aziraphale. The resulting flashback is debilitating, and Crowley helps to walk Aziraphale through it.

useless, helpless, hopeless (safe) by Anonymous (M)

Crowley picked a bad day to drop by the shop. Gabriel had already gone, thank goodness, but the bruises on Aziraphale’s face most certainly had not, and the truth came out. Gabriel was raping Aziraphale, and there was absolutely nothing that Crowley could do about it.

What I Am by Anonymous (E)

Aziraphale knows what he is, in Heaven. He’s dirty, and tainted, and easy. He’s good for working off stress. He’s a lower angel, a demoted Cherub banished to Earth and forbidden from saying no. He’s Gabriel’s favourite, though he doesn’t understand why. He knows all too well what he is. But it doesn’t matter. Because Heaven is good, and all that they do must be good in return. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he hates it. Heaven cannot possibly be wrong. Right?

And the one you mentioned...

(Not) Alone by lalaland666 (T)

Aziraphale had lost track of the days quite some time ago. He’d been counting the seconds in his head, before. Heaven was always bright, always lit by perpetual sunlight, and the Room was brighter than the rest of Heaven, too, so it made it quite difficult to keep track of… of… Aziraphale had lost track of the days quite some time ago. Aziraphale is punished by being put in solitary confinement. Eventually, Crowley finds out.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale has ptsd #hurt/comfort #protective crowley #hurt aziraphale #mind the tags #major archive warning #mod d

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scaly-freaks · 23 hours

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inmate 13453

okay don't get excited, i just felt like writing a bit of a drabble to feel out the atmosphere of a potential start to this au (clicking the tag will give up the other stuff i've posted for it btw)

btw check out the playlist and the pinterest board made by @theageofsilver and @allicentsallure bc they're fab

cw: kidnapping

Soft seventeen.

Bambi eyes, bambi legs.

There’s a certain edge to the way people describe the age she’s at. Not quite eighteen, not quite legal, tangible as cherry juice on greedy fingers. She isn’t sixteen, sweet and tender. It’s a soft first step into adulthood, skirting the border, the in between, the unknowable horrors that lie ahead.

She fucking hates being seventeen.

It’s a shit number first of all. Odd numbers make her want to spew. They feel like nails on a chalkboard, polyester static on leg hair. She can’t even dance, so whatever ABBA are singing about doesn’t apply.

Amara sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as the breeze blows west. She swears she can get a sense of the world when she does.

Her stepfather mocks her for it. That blue-eyed, blonde maniac with the ugly Buick Electra he treats like a brand-name Italian from the southern coasts of Europe. He used to treat her mother the same. Until he began to tell Amara you look just like her when she was young. He leaves his porn tabs open on his computer, as if he wants her to know. ‘Teen’, ‘Latina’, ‘Stepfather’, ‘Rough’, ‘Face-fucking’, ‘Breeding.’

She doesn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in her.

She really wants to tell her mother, but there is a chance her mother will look right through her instead. She’s been doing that a lot more nowadays. They can’t afford her meds anymore. She just sits on the porch and watches and waits. For what, is anyone's guess.

>> can you pick me up?

>> its dark

>> pls

>> sorry ik its inconvienant

'Step-Daddy' always replies quickly when it’s her. He has a heart next to her name on his phone. She never agreed to that.

>> it’s spelled inconvenient

“Suck my dick,” Amara tells the screen and switches her phone off before he can message again.

She can walk.

The route back runs dangerously close to the edge of the forest. All kinds rot away in there, but she doesn’t like to think of them by name. They’ll become real if she does. She wishes her mother had found a man who lived in the wetlands, and not here at the cursed border between life and the realm beyond. Marshes are easier to understand. Forests are cursed.

Still, life is horribly simple here. Her high school is placid and filled with the dull-eyed children of dull-eyed adults. The gas station where she works didn’t bother to interview her. She walked in and the guy behind the counter stared at her breasts until he remembered she had a face. Her breasts aced the interview for her.

Can I work here? Just until I graduate.

Sure, grab a nametag.

Four months later, and she doesn’t mind it anymore. Her brain shuts off. Her customers are a ragtag mixture of suspicious, ferret-eyed locals and the occasionally buoyant hiker from out of state. If she doesn’t look like she belongs, she’s pretty, and that usually gives people like her a pass. At least until the sleazy comments become ethnically charged. But even then, Amara has a way of making her eyes go ‘dopey’ and just smiling like she’s too slow to understand. Displaying discomfort is what eggs them on (kind of a nasty realisation she opened her eyes to one day).

An engine growls some way down the road.

Old Chevy pickup, faded gold.

She recognises it from the parking lot at the station near the end of her shift.

A guy stepped out, young, early twenties, with a shock of hair that looked white until she realised it was just really, really blonde. She remembers thinking it was odd. The range of blondes in town runs from deep and dirty to the artificial bleach rattled out of holographic boxes of dye. No one has hair like his. She’d have noticed.

His eyebrows were a little darker, and his lashes were darker still. He had a funny way of walking, and he looked at her like she had the head of a fish and the body of a human being. Amara did her best dopey eyes. She asked him if he’d had a good day, pointed out the offers they had on pork rinds. He didn’t say a word. His skin had smears of black grease, glistening with sweat and bronzed by the sun.

Deep blue eyes.

Horribly deep.

Not the kind you’d want to swim in. She likes a softer blue, blue like chlorine, reminiscent of the safety of swimming pools. His were anything but.

She picks up her speed, and for some reason, puts her phone to her ear as if mid-conversation. Nothing about him said he was dangerous at the time. At least not from the way he’d barely said a word or looked down at her body. He was just there, and then he was gone.

And now here he is again.

The Chevy hits the horn. He is creeping closer. Amara turns and waves at him to go on. She doesn’t want a ride. Why isn’t he rolling down the window to offer one though?

It slows to a crawl. Her throat closes up. She has a feeling speeding up will give him what he wants. He’s obviously trying to be a prick. But if she goes back to talk to him, that would be exponentially worse. She switches her phone back on and sees her stepfather’s message telling her to get back home herself after she didn’t reply to tell him her location.

She quickly shoots him a message, and prays he’ll respond.

He doesn’t.

Fuck it.

She walks faster. The Chevy matches the increase. Sweat blooms on the back of her neck.

Every woman has that oh fuck moment. That I’m going to be on the evening news moment. The please god if he catches me let him kill me before he gets to raping me moment.

None of that goes through her head. She keeps thinking of her mother’s cooking. Her mother hasn’t cooked in a year and a half, not since her mind began to slip. But Amara can taste the spices on her tongue, the way the rice was perfectly simmered, the cinnamon in the back of her throat, the smell that clung to the walls, the heat of it.

I wanna come home, Momma.

Her mother’s face gathers into shape in her head, built with sand particles and saltwater. When the Chevy roars, she starts running. Her mother vanishes.

The lights of the truck blink across the tarmac. It’s a signal. But it isn’t for her.

She looks over her shoulder, and she can’t see him.

Run me over. Leave me like carrion on the road. Let the maggots eat me. Don’t cut me up first.

He slows when she starts to tire out. Picks up when she tries again. No other car has graced this road since she first turned onto it. A sign points her to the right, ushering her deeper into the backwoods. The town is to the left.

He figures out where she’s going when she suddenly makes a dash for the bend in the road.

There’s no time to dodge the pickup when it goes for her this time. The wheels skid as he yanks it at an angle and blocks her way. The door flies open and misses her by an inch. His arm grabs for her. She dodges, animal fear and rust on her tongue. He still doesn’t say a word.

A heavy fist connects with the small of her back and she drops like a stone.

The pain is electric. Air turns her lungs into taut balloons, but she can’t make a sound. She twists around and the bruise forming over her spine grates. Adrenaline quickly numbs it as she lashes out with her arms and legs. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting. Her teeth hit home. A mouthful of tattooed flesh, car oil and sweat. Still no sound from him.

She never sees the fist coming, just like last time.

A blow to the head and lights out, nancy.

#inmate 13453 #aegon ii x oc #house of the dragon #modern aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x amara #modern hotd

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whatshehassaid · 3 days

Note

you had said something in a previous post about Daniel mixing up memories with Armand and Alice and I entertain this theory too. I think the only thing Armand did was remove himself from Daniel’s narrative. And it isn’t until Daniel is reunited with Armand(Rashid) that he starts to slowly remember. Meeting Rashid triggered the memory of him meeting Armand for the first time and that’s why Rashid with his non freaky ass eyes is the one in his dream and not actually Armand. And I think that’s what keeps happening. Because these tiny memories with Armand have no one to latch onto, Armand is being superimposed onto Alice because there is no where for those memories to go because Armand “doesn’t exist” if that makes any kind of sense lol. Just like with Daniel thinking what Louis said to him post self immolation was some druggie in the drug den he woke up in. That memory had nowhere to go so it was superimposed onto someone else. I don’t think Armand necessarily intended/wanted Daniel to remember which is why he was trying to get the “and then what” Daniel and not the “keep selling it” Daniel and maybe it backfired lol

Oh definitely. I have a feeling that Armand was so focused on keeping Louis from detonating like a god damn time bomb that he didn’t even realize until the scene in 2x04 where Daniel asks about the fire that Daniel was having snippets of memories come back.

Armand doesn’t know what actual love is… he doesn’t know how to spot it. He probably thought Daniel never actually loved him, just was addicted to his blood and wanted to become a vampire. But I think he’s realizing now he was wrong… and that the fact that Armand buried those memories so deep in Daniel… but just SEEING him again triggered them? Like… phew.

Just the way the expression on Armand’s face changes when you see him see the flicker of a memory in Daniel’s mind in 2x04. You can almost HEAR the oh my god he’s remembering me? just in his expression alone.

And Armand is CLEARLY still in love with Daniel, you can see the fondness in his eyes in some moments or the sadness. And then Daniel doesn’t even realize it yet but he’s still in love with Armand… though he thinks it’s Alice (if she even exists - even if she doesn’t) he’s in love with. But in reality…..

I cannot WAIT to see the look on that old man’s face when he realizes.

I also have a theory it was really Armand watching over Daniel this entire time. Louis may have looked in on him here and there… but I don’t think Armand ever let him really go.

#god I love them #they’re batshit crazy #iwtv spoilers #devils minion #iwtv #they start off SO fucked up too but by the end they’re like the cutest lil couple I… I love them your honor #asks

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kaylorstree · 18 hours

Text

TTPD Gaylor Lyric Analysis

Because there are so many songs, I’m only analysing the gayest ones.

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO POST THIS!!!!!!

But Daddy I Love Him

Possibly Taylor’s gayest song EVER.

‘These people only raise you to cage you’

A lot of this is about her team, handlers and parents wanting her to stay closeted.

‘These people try to save you because they hate you’

This references judgemental religious people, to whom if she ever came out would want to save her, and pray for her, out of faux concern.

‘Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best’

Again, religious Bible names, but also could reference American conservatives.

‘Told my parents and they came around’

This has to be about being gay. I really doubt her parents wouldn’t have a HUGE problem or be able to influence her that much in terms of problematic men, since she has dated many previously, such as John Mayer and Jake Gylenhall.

‘Tell him to floor it through the fences’

This references Getaway Car, but I also think it references the YNTCD fences, and the other fence meme.

‘I’d rather burn my whole life down’ Dating a man would never ‘burn down’ her entire life.

Down Bad

‘Crying at the gym’

Taylor and Karlie went to the gym all the time. There is so much photographic evidence of this.

Side note (which I think I have previously posted about): I’ve always found it odd how they would be so dressed up for the gym, particularly Taylor. It makes me think they were having lunch or hanging out in secret, for some privacy from the paparazzi maybe?

‘Like I just lost my twin’

Do I really need to elaborate this line?

‘Fuck it if I can’t have him’

I genuinely see no way Taylor couldn’t date any man she really wanted. The only way she REALLY couldn’t have someone would have to be a HUGE reason.

‘Did you take all my old clothes, just to leave me here naked and alone?’

A man wouldn’t take a woman’s clothes, Also, Taylor and Karlie shared a load of clothes back in the day.

Guilty As Sin?

The religious undertones continue, along with the references to heaven and angels.

‘Written mine on my upper thigh, only in my mind’

‘What if the way you hold me, is the thing that’s holy’

‘Without touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin’

Surely it isn’t a sin by any standards to THINK about having sex with a man? But a woman, YES.

‘I keep my longest locked, in lower case inside a vault’.

This was suggest she has repressed longings she needs to hide, but also suggests ‘loml’ and ‘iwannagetyouback’ are important to listen to and decipher.

Fresh Out The Slammer

‘Fresh out the slammer, I’m running back home to you’

This suggests being imprisoned or trapped. To consider a 6 year relationship as being a prison would be offensive to Joe, but would make sense if this was just another fake relationship she’s trapped in until she can finally be with the person she has been waiting for.

Clara Bow

‘You look like Stevie Nicks, in ‘75, the hair and lips’

At first I didn’t understand why this reference jumped out at me- I then realised that there was this tweet comparing Karlie to Steve Nicks’ ex, Linsday Buckingham.

‘You look like Clara Bow in this life, remarkable’

She sings about women and their features throughout this song.

‘Half moonshine, full eclipse’

Karlie is always referred to the sunshine, hiding the sun would be an eclipse.

Peter

‘In closets like cedar, preserved from when we were just kids’

‘You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me’

This suggests waiting for someone when they can finally be together.

‘As the men masqueraded, I hope you’d return’

Men masquerading suggests acting or pretending, just as her beards have been until she can be in a real relationship with the person she actually wants to be with.

iwannagetyouback

‘Wait til you fix your face’

Only a girl would need to fix their face. This also aligns with The 1975 song ‘Girls’, the one that was playing when Taylor and Karlie famously kissed.

‘Curse you out, or pull you into the closet’

I mean, again, when does someone ever literally pull some into a closet? Only figuratively.

Chloe Or Sam Or Sophia Or Marcus

The premise of the song is talking about someone bisexual. It’s impossible to decipher it any other way.

So, she’s outing and implicating one of her previous boyfriends which would be EXTREMELY problematic.

On the other hand, if she was singing about a bisexual woman, that would make sense. There is less stigma surrounding bisexual women compared to men, by some extent.

The Prophecy

‘Don’t want money, just someone who really loves me’

Again, this doesn’t make sense to attribute to a man. Why would she lose money by being in a relationship? Only if it was incredibly controversial, like a queer one.

Also, ‘The Prophecy’ suggests that this is the way things have to be, have been and will be. However, if she changes this it will not be expected for others in the future.

‘I got cursed like Eve got bitten’

‘Was it punishment?’

This alludes once again to sin and religious imagery, but also about how being LGBT can feel like a curse or something unwanted.

‘Looked to the sky’

This suggests God is responsible for the prophecy itself.

‘Pat around when I get home’ alludes to crime and accusations. Perhaps growing up her family were maybe onto her concerning where she’s been and who she’s been with.

Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?

‘You don’t get to tell me about sad’

‘You wouldn’t last a year in the asylum where they raised me’

As discussed online, Taylor didn’t grow up with any particular trauma or a bad childhood by any stretch of the imagination. However, the concept of her being closeted on a global scale, to constantly having to lie in order to keep her livelihood is pretty traumatic in my opinion.

A lot of people wouldn’t be able to survive that.

Please tell me what your interpretations are! 🌼🌈

#kaylor #spotify #taylor swift #gaylor swift #gaylor #taylurking #ttb #karlie kloss #lgbetty #lgbtqia #lyrical analysis #the tortured poets department #ttpd

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ccircusclwn · 3 days

Note

are.you.an.angel..

I've been looking for AleNoah as dads my entire life man!!! You're like.. sent from above!!

wait how did they get MK then..

did Noah and Emma have MK then divorce, and then Noah gained custody..or is she just adopted..

I don't know if you mind me doing this but like,

I like to imagine :3.. that Aleheather broke up and Nemma actually got married but divorced so then MK is just like..there. Then boom Noah and Alejandro meet again and they're like "btw did you know in World Tour I loved you" "fr!? Me.me too!" "do you wanna get married" "yea!!!!"

yea. (I may have gotten Raj into the mix..bleh.)

Wow this is incredibly long sorry about that drink water and have a lovely day!!!!!

-⏰

OKAY I ACCIDENTALLY MAY IR MAY HAVE NOT MADE A CHART THAT EXPLAINS THE AU THANKS TO THIS ASK (IN MY EYES) !!

i personally dont like the idea of the women in the respective relationships abandoning the men to let them be gay w each other, esp since so many people that write similar things end up making emma just straight up abandon the family cause of stress. its way too convinient yknow, jst my opinion, and it makes emma look bad (which shes way too awesome) i think she would be very close w the mudaliar-burromuerto family but as a close friend/honorary aunt sorta way.

but your idea of the au is cool! i like it.

this is kinda of like a long answer to your question being like. how did they have mk.....

okay so.

how did they end up together? i inspired myself from a fic that is literally just noah being alejandro's only visitor in the hospital post-WT. they become friendly and, since the burromuerto family sees alejandro as an embarrassment for being too vulnerable and letting himself lose the million dollars in front of many people, leaving him being kicked out, they eventually end up moving together! its kind of a slowburn college romance if im being honest. and once theyre juniors/seniors in college, they end up getting together.

so. hooow do they adopt mk? since its from birth? wouldnt they be super young? EXACTLY

theyre young parents due to alejandro being pressured from his side of the family to at least get a child if he's going to keep being a failure. this hurts ale deeply and he genuinely starts to panic, thinking he should raise a kid as soon as possible. he manages to convince noah that its true baby fever and that they'll be wonderful parents, even though normally "ideal" parents marry and then have children.

they search for a while and eventually come across someone who was thinking of adoption whilst pregnant, and the three of them worked very hard to make it possible. so in 2007, MK is born, and adopted into the mudaliar-burromuerto family. (i do not know SHIT about adoption so i wont make much detail about it)

of course, not being married and having a child was also critizised, so they quickly married around a year or two later. (it took a while to cut the burromuerto family out of his life, but back then ale was very young and very easily manipulated by his family)

so, around 6 years later, they adopt another kid, which was already a year old, but who really didnt have a name. he was dropped off at an orphanage when he was around 6 months old, but he didnt seem to be registrated anywhere. ale n noah, curious, took on the role to foster care this kid and came up w a name for him, which alejandro chose, nicolás. they adopted him soon after

so yeah full story!!! may be susceptible to change!! wahoo!!

#my art #total drama #alenoah gay dads au #td noah #td alejandro #alenoah #td alenoah #td mk #td mk's brother #yeah a bit unwell about this au

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pjohoo-reclists · 3 days

Note

Hello there! May I request some time travel fics?

Hello Roosinii!! Here you go. I found a decent amount and split it into two rec lists. I'll tag you when the second list is posted. Enjoy!!

PJO/HoO Time Travel Fics (1/2)

A list of fics that have different sorts of time travel involved. All these fics are tagged time travel, in addition to the other tags listed. This list has fics under 40k. This list (TBD) has fics over 40k.

Be my lighthouse; show me the path towards home. by youngjusticewriter

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Abusive Relationships, Post-Tartarus

Despite the tears in his eyes along with Smelly Gabe's blood on his knuckles his mom doesn't immediately demand answers because she's not only the best person in the world but the best mom in the world. Instead, she runs a hand through his mess of hair and hums softly as though he's still a baby instead of a seventeen year old demi-god that's in his twelve year old "troubled kid" body. It feels too soon when his mom finally pulls somewhat away from him to stare at his face - at his eyes and she had to see something in them. Or the first thing Percy does after getting over the shock of being woken up by Grover (who is so young even though he's not) is use his money he got from selling his illegal stash of candy to Yancy students is go find his mom.

Time is a River by Oreocat155338

T | 2.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Apollo, Percy Jackson & Zeus, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Angst, Hopeful Ending, accidental Percy/Hermes elements

"In Einstein's equation, time is a river. It speeds up, meanders, and slows down. The new wrinkle is that it can have whirlpools and fork into two rivers. So, if the river of time can be bent into a pretzel, create whirlpools and fork into two rivers, then time travel cannot be ruled out." - Michio Kaku Percy time travels way further than they meant him to. Now he has to deal with trying to not change things, and figuring out what the hell he's going to do once time catches up.

is it really a crime if you don't exist? by MidnightBunnyy

T | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Humor, tired college student edition, crack

"So, what you're saying is," Percy said, staring at the man in front of him. "you're me from the future." The man took a drink out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Yup." "And you're here," Percy said slowly. "Because Annabeth's brother's boyfriend is trying to prove the existence of the multiverse." The man nodded. "And you got sucked in when he turned it on." Nod. "And now you don't know how to get home." Nod. "And how did you get sucked in, again?" The man mumbled something. "What?" "I was coming back from the bathroom and opened the wrong door."

a new age by suomynonAnonymous

T | 2.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Dark Percy, PTSD, Fix-it

When Luke and Kronos are killed by a mysterious man a few days after the Battle of the Labyrinth, Percy and Annabeth are confused. Who is this man powerful enough to defeat a Titan? And why does he look so much like Percy? |“Our parents care about us, they just have an shit way of showing it. After all, they’re gods. They have important shit to do.” Thalia says dismissively, striding towards the man. “C’mon Percy, let’s kill this-” “If your father cared about you,” the man interrupts quietly. “Why didn’t he tell you Jason was alive?” Thalia freezes. Annabeth and I looked on in confusion. Who was Jason?

the annabeth project by pjoseries (divineauthor)

T | 13k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Banter, Action & Romance, Established Relationship

Time kneels to no one, but Percy will take his chances. Annabeth is lost in time. Percy finds his way to her, but not without a few familiar faces helping him along the way.

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth by mrthology

M | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Character Study, Temporary Character Death, gods being gods

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity. "I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is." "You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he'd lost almost all respect for. "You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?" Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

Love's Design by MidnightinJapan

G | 22k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Drama, Romance, Action/Adventure

Prompt: Nico is sent back in time.

bring the forgotten dawn by poisedwalrus

G | 22k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Unreliable Narrator, Mood whiplash, Fix it

“What is it?” Grover asks, “What’s with that weird look on your face?” “Just trying to figure out if turning me in will get us enough bounty money to buy our way to LA.” Percy says, craning his neck towards the news van. “We are not turning you in to the police.” Grover presses his head back into the alleyway. “Why not?” Percy says. They could use a bit of cash. “You guys can just break me out afterwards, right?” Annabeth looks like she’s considering it. “No, guys,” Grover says. “No.” - If Percy has to spend the rest of his life cleaning up after the gods, then he might as well start from the beginning.

Stick Together and Navigate the Storm by Rynna_Aurelius

M | 24k+ | Last Updated June 29, 2022

Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Triton

Everyone Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD

Kronos has returned. Again. Ever since waking up as his twelve-year-old self, Percy Jackson has thrown himself from one fire into another, taking advantage of the Fates-given second chance to try and set things right. But now, he has to face the results of his efforts: the second Titanomachy back on the horizon, only a few friends who know the truth, and a camp struggling in the aftermath of Kronos's return (And Luke Castellan's sacrifice). All the while, two sides of an impending war are racing to find the Golden Fleece, Hazel Levesque is trying to piece together her own life, and Sally Jackson runs into a fast-talking son of Hephaestus on the run one day. . . "What is it?" Percy demanded. Hazel Levesque grimaced. "Chiron issued the quest for the Golden Fleece this morning. Without you."

close to the breathing wave by poisedwalrus

G | 32k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Luke Castellan

Unreliable Narrator, Mood Whiplash, Fix it

“Why are you looking at skateboards?” asks Luke. “Maybe Kronos wants us to get a skateboard.” Luke presses a hand on the top of Percy’s head and physically turns him away from the window display. “Does Kronos want us to get a skateboard,” he says. “…No.” Luke wants to know what the hell Percy thinks he’s doing. Percy wants Luke to trip and fall over the side of the yacht. They are, as always, at an impasse.

Sands of Time by CSP2708, Dylan_Walts

T | 40k | Complete

Percy Jackson, The Hunters of Artemis, Kronos

Battle, Historical, Pre-Heroes of Olympus

In a fit of rage, Kronos curses Percy before he disappears. The curse, forever tied to Percy, will send him through time at random, and there is no way for him to stop it or is there?

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satubby · 16 hours

Text

[Once upon a dream: Where you were happy]

As once in the dream, where you forgot your memories by my side, I will still be waiting for you, so please just don't forget who you were … My precious daughter of man - Malleus Draconia

[Disclaimer: This may contain errors so I'm sorry if they bother you or confuse you when reading. I didn't think this would be so long, I will finish part 3 in a few weeks. Thanks for your support, credits to the fanart I use, if I find their artists I'll post them.]

Morning was rising outside but the curtains cast shadows in your room, then the doors opened and the maids came into your room, they were all making as much noise as ever, you sigh exhaustedly refusing to look at them. "Come on princess, get up, today is your 16th birthday" One of them said, pulling you out of bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming... It's too early for this" You sigh, getting up and heading to the powder room, you swallowed your bitterness smiling like the 'worthy and pretty princess' you were, then the maids. did their job starting to comb your hair. Your gaze was distant and you constantly clutched your dress, you were beautiful yes, but you honestly didn't care.

"Ouch, damn it" You whisper, feeling their eyes constantly on the back of your head.

"Watch your mouth princess" murmured one, they continued brushing your hair and making you presentable, they always made sure you looked good. As you sat there, the doors opened again and a tall figure walked in. It was the housekeeper serving the queen, she entered haughty and powerful, all the maids in your service began to murmur. "Please hurry princess, you wouldn't want to embarrass the emperor and empress, would you?"

You almost wanted to wring his neck but you knew better than to do stupid things. So you stood up without paying attention to his 'reprimand' and bowed your body politely, bowing your head as well, after all, you were a princess without any power.

"Yes, thank you for letting me know...I assure you I only wish the best for the kingdom and the imperial family" She looks you with that very, very stiff and bitter face. After that incident like every morning, you moved towards the emperor's castle because you lived in the empress castle, farther than any other room, you used to live in the basement where they put weapons and old stuff but it was something.

Walking down the hall, your arrival is announced, with trumpets and a red carpet. You know they're just pretending, no one gives a shit if you got in or not.

"ATTENTION!!! THIS IS THE INCOMING HEIR PRINCESS!" closing your eyes you enter with dignity as you were taught, you felt the pressure on your being before those judging eyes of the pompous nobles, so you tried not to look bad. Some looked at you with barely concealed disgust, others simply didn't look at you and the rest whispered like silly little birds cackling incessantly amidst rumors and gossip.

Your strides echoed with the sound of the floor as you walked towards the rulers of this place you hated to call home; the looks they gave you were either filled with disgust or filled with envy as they stepped aside to make way for you. The hall in front of you slowly filled with people after you walked away and approached the throne on the platform.

The emperor was sitting upright on his throne, next to him was the empress, looking majestic and presumptuous, as always. The empress smiled slightly as you knelt before them, both extended their hands waiting for a kiss from you, most of all it was the woman before you who gave you that silent command.

The empress stroked your hair with false kindness when you complied with her order, still with her smile on her face she continued to enjoy your humiliation, it disgusted you to look like a mere dog... And the emperor didn't even do anything, he never really cared about you.

"Happy sixteenth birthday my dear.... Now I hope you won't do anything to make us sad; or would you like to see her highness disappointed?" Her lips brushed your lobe warning you with sincere malice, then she walked away from you smiling as if nothing had happened, you didn't even react, you knew what she wanted, you wouldn't give her that.

"Thank you for- Your worries, your highness and beloved emperor.... I wish you good vibes and I hope you live long!" With those words, you forced a forced smile swallowing your little pride and the bile in your throat felt bitter. You sincerely praised yourself, since you were good at acting, you had to do it if you wanted to survive.

Again the emperor looked at you without interest and gave you permission to leave, so you did and like every year, you were alone on your birthday, the gifts were not really for you, much less was this party... And honestly you had long ago stopped giving it importance.

Once he gave you permission to leave, you could leave the throne room and get away from this heavy atmosphere that only made you feel sick and want to vomit because of so much hypocrisy in the air. Although before you managed to get out of sight you could hear the nobles start whispering and gossiping behind your back.

They were noisy, much louder than a rooster would be at morning crowing time, but what could you do? Nothing and just thinking about them gave you headaches. You continue down the halls, with a couple of maids walking behind you who don't care for you either. They never really liked you, so they just followed you as their job ordered, even you wouldn't want to be with yourself, you were a bitter mess.

"Please leave me alone, okay? I need air" You turned around stopping at the entrance towards a balcony. They look at you confused but they care so little about you that they better bow and leave, you on the other hand headed for the nearby balcony, stretching your legs and leaning your body against the marble railing.

Looking down at the ground, you let out sighs and snorts, then unleash your usual attitude of resignation and rebellion, only being alone you can say or do the little you can, the little freedom you had.

"Fuck those fucking nobles, I didn't even want to come— Fucking loudmouths, they're just vultures hoping I'm wrong, honestly... GO TO THE FUCK THEM ALL!! That fucking housekeeper, the emperor and the fucking empress!.... Anyway, I hope this day ends soon"

You let your head fall on your shoulders, looking resigned to your situation, you were sick of following these stupid rules. A lady doesn't do this, a lady doesn't do that— You are at your limit and yet you can only complain to yourself or suffer your punishments.

Your eyes unconsciously looked at parts of your body, you bit your lips in frustration.... Those scars still hurt, but you had to bear them because that made you a princess- Although honestly you always had that doubt, Did princesses really do that? In your stories it was something else. But laughing, remind yourself that they are just that, stories annnnd, since you were a child you didn't know who you were before coming here, you were always told what to say or do, as you were foolish and naive, you blindly followed in fear of that damned bitch of an empress.

You were the puppet in her theatrical play, used and punished if something didn't go her way. Sometimes you wanted to kill her, but you'd rather keep your neck in your body. No one would help a dirty blood like you, a stupid girl with no connection or power whatsoever plus your stupid insignificant elven powers weren't even strong you could only heal scrapes or make little lights because according to rumors; your dead mother wasn't a complete elf.

"These heels burn so much, maybe I should throw them away... But that damn woman will punish me if I do. It's a real shame my birthday sucks and the weather is so nice, which is ironic because I'm a mess."

You drop your body onto a nearby table, playing with your fingers, you didn't know at what point you started to fall asleep.

While you were dozing on that table, lost in a kind of dream, you began to feel like you were floating in the air, reality became a dream and vice versa. At some point you opened your eyes in a strange place, it was all white and there was only you, but your body was shining, as if the stars had given you their remains to make you shine.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the giggling of a little girl, a very familiar one, that hair and tattered clothes were familiar even though you couldn't see her face.

"Hello? ... How strange, I swore I heard something-"

You scratched your eyes thinking you were still hallucinating. You had just fallen asleep and didn't know how you got here.

"Haha... Nyum!"

There it was again, that childish giggle attracted you again, then turning towards where it came from, you saw a completely white silhouette standing in the middle of the void.

"Hey girl, what are we doing in this place and-? Wait!" You exclaimed starting to follow her, as she started to run, the emptiness started to change.

The more you ran, the more it changed, the ground felt soft as you now stepped on clouds. Tall mirrors filled your vision like a maze, then again you heard the girl's giggle.

"Haha! You can't catch me.."

Your eyes followed her silhouette in confusion, she was as energetic and elusive as... You, from childhood. You didn't know why, but you began to follow her, all these hallways of mirrors reflected both figures.

"Girl don't run! Ugh, just tell me what this place is, fuck I just wanted to sleep and I ended up here!"

Sighing tired from so much running, you stop to rest, however something caught your attention; some mirrors were worn or broken, others simply had nothing to reflect.

And the farther away you went the darker this place became, you two glowed as the darkness swallowed you. Then you see her entering a specific mirror, it was full of thorns and wilted roses, this place was silent, her giggling stopped being heard, slowly you went towards that mirror.

"That girl- How strange, she took me all this way just to see this mirror?"

You whisper without understanding this strange dream, if it was one to begin with.

So lost were you in your thoughts, that you don't even notice when your hand goes through the mirror and you are swallowed by it, unlike others, this mirror is dark as much as the the glass it was made of as its withered wooden frame.

Screaming as you fall, you feel the air seep into your tresses shaking and making a mess of it, your dress suddenly changed as you landed in a brutish thump.

With pain in your body, you slowly got up spitting grass, that strange fall made you feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Slowly you could stand up on your own feet, you were without shoes which seemed strange but what did you expect? This dream is strange in itself.

"I must stop getting so much in my head— come to think of it, where did that mirror take me?"

You turned around looking at your surroundings, however the girl glimpsed out of the corner of your eye again, laughing at you and making you angry.

"HEY COME BACK HERE YOU SHATTERING BRAT!"

Now you felt like the empress every time you yelled at the silhouette. Fuck! Some habits stick with people.

She kept running into the mist of this dark forest, with you following behind her, the branches on your feet and the wildlife of the place making you scrape, but it didn't matter. You wanted to know how to get out of this place.

"Jijiji! I'm faster than you..." Whispered the brat, her silhouette running and when you finally came out of the dark forest, the light filled her eyes blinding you. When the effect passed, you stopped thinking for an instant, this whole place was magnificent and magical, but the girl was gone.

In its place, the vast tulip field filled your view, in the middle of it and far away on the hill, lay a beautiful oak tree the size of the most pompous castle presumably held by royalty.

Mesmerized by this magnificence, you walked down the hill, it was a few more meters but something guided you to the oak tree. The closer you got, you heard a deep and melancholic voice singing.

Its beautiful whistling caught your attention, the closer you got the better you saw someone's back and— That little girl sitting next to her.

Never thought that you would be Standing here so close to me There's so much I feel that I should say But words can wait until some other day

Both were relaxing on a chair made of wood and flowers as a handle, the stranger kept singing; for some reason his voice gave you a familiar but pleasant peace, you didn't know why or how, but you keep watching them swinging.

It's been a long, long time Haven't felt like this, my dear Since can't remember when It's been a long, long time You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you Or just how empty they all seem without you

The wind was blowing away the colorful petals of the field full of those tulips, you standing still in the tall grass, mesmerized by the whistling of that stranger, still looking at the girl, they seemed so comfortable with each other.

It's been a long, long time It's been a long, oh long time

And then that song stopped, breaking like a spell as well as your illusion, for just as the figure turned, his face could not be seen for he silenced you, causing thousands of tulips to cover your vision.

"WAIT PLEASE! Who are you—"

With an abrupt silence, you were left in the emptiness of before, broken glass halves scattered on the floor surrounded your feet, the girl was gone, only you and that hall of mirrors remained.

Sighing, you pick up several pieces and your fragmented reflection looks back at you.

Your thoughts stop when you feel someone pull you out of that place and your eyes open as you feel the pain of a slap. Your eyes immediately went to those responsible for that: The maids in the service of the empress, who don't even look sorry for having done such a thing.

"Hey, you know you shouldn't sleep like that in public, you should be ashamed of yourself? What if the nobles gossip about you? hahahahaha."

You clutched your reddish cheeks due to the hard slap, you growl silently wanting to do something but you just bit your lip in anger and swallowed it with 'dignity', which was the only thing you really had left; nothing belongs to you nor did anyone in this palace seem to take your position seriously.

You are just an ornament for the empress and a sack of potatoes for others to vent their frustrations. You had nowhere to go, if you left they would surely kill you, because the dirty blood should not live.

"Please, couldn't you be less rude, Tsk! If you were seen slapping me, wouldn't you go unpunished? I'm still the emperor's daughter. It's frowned upon for a commoner to hit a noble, let alone royalty like me" You sneered with measured sarcasm, if they wanted to pull shit against you, you'd mess with them, it's all or nothing.

Your joke made them turn pale, the other maid behind gasped and took a step back. The one who slapped you swallowed as she quickly pulled herself together. They did not want the wrath of the empress if such rumors began to circulate, their necks, and perhaps yours, would roll.

"You should be grateful princess because I have not yet reported your attitude to our noble empress, be good and we can forget about this incident" They said with a smile on their faces, the other nodded his head as the speaker held his face confidently, as if he had all the power in the situation, but his eyes reflected the fear and falsity of his words.

If they did that, they would pay more than you, a simple spanking would not be mere punishment for commoners like them, on the contrary for you, who you would be 'disciplined' for your indecency as a noble,

However, you were interrupted by the empress's housekeeper (that damned boot-licking spy) She advanced towards you and all the maidens present bowed in fear, the two in front of you also trembled.

"Now ladies don't make a fuss in the middle of the balconies and princess let's avoid making a fuss, please if you are not going to do anything at the party then go back to your room. As for you as maids, you have permission from the empress to discipline her, but don't overdo it..." She looked at you with cold condescension, as if she were superior. Biting your lips, you force a smile crumpling your dress in anger but swallow it all, smiling politely and standing up, wiping your dress and bowing.

"Thank you, I will follow that sage advice, as you always know what to do, with your permission." Annoyed and frustrated once again, you left in anger and your footsteps echo loudly through the empty corridors of this place, listening to the maids laughing at you, as always.

Those damn maidservants, they always had something to say, didn't they? Laughing and talking behind your back every chance they got. Then there were those damn nobles, they were all the same, looking down on you. They always had something to comment on, whether it was your looks, your status or how you behaved. In the end you were just a trophy to them. A princess just to show off, nothing more.

Your thoughts were diverted by the sounds of the party, soon the second waltz would begin. But even if you were to go there, you would not be welcome, which is silly and ironic because this party is for you but no one actually congratulates you, the bitch empress steals every birthday you had, only to receive praise for her benevolence towards you... A bastard with dirty half elven blood.

"Phew, at least this day is winding down."

You sighed again as you vaguely thought about your dream, but you were more curious about that stranger, you didn't understand why he sent you back to reality, nor did you know why that girl led you there. In the end you walked down the hallway ignoring the lights and the drunks, it was like that every year, just nobles inflating their egos and gossiping behind each other's backs.

Hallways full of drunks were nothing new to you. Every year the parties ended the same as the others, with drunks and gossiping nobles. You couldn't wait for it to end, you always found it exhausting and annoying. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway with all these drunken fools around you... Surely there were some fucking and eating with lust around.

"Hello princess!"

A voice called out behind you, one you sadly recognized from all the years you had lived in the palace living with the nobles.

The stupid, disgusting son of Marquis Duboff, that dog rather than a man, always insisted on touching you and then complained when you refused. Snarling at fate, you tried to run away from him but he grabbed your hand and cornered you on the wall almost going out to the stairs. "Come on princess! Don't be like that, the other time I saw you flirting with other men, maybe the little slut can't help strutting around and wanting to fuck cock? You can't fool me, I know you like it—!"

Drunk breath filled your nose, you wanted to vomit. His smell and everything about him disgusted you, so when he held your wrists, you kicked him in his private parts, you were irritated beyond belief.

"Tsk! When are you going to understand that I HATE YOU? You're a garbage existence, so.... If you'll excuse me, m-a-r-q-u-i-s!" With those words, you fixed your dress, you could be cheeky and follow orders for your own survival... However, you weren't going to play along with his games, that human excuse was a stubborn and pathetic being because you didn't want to call him a man when the vacancy was too big for him.

This one knocked you down putting his hands in your hair, you in defense tried to shake him off but in the end between pulls, he knocked you down hitting you in the face and calling you an ungrateful bitch.

The blow threw you to the ground and to the side, sending you stumbling into a wall, you almost died if you fell badly down the stairs. You clutched your cheek as a groan of pain escaped you and, of course, the pathetic bastard was still standing there mockingly.

"You're not going anywhere princess, even though you act like an ungrateful bitch...I'm sure you'll soon come to your senses when you see that I can be gentle..."

He sneered at you as he looked down at you from his elevated position holding an entire bottle of wine. His smile grew as he took a step closer to you, striding over and drinking.

Then he started fighting you when you pushed him back wanting to leave, and he had the audacity to call you a spoiled brat, when IN YOUR LIFE! You've had some of that, anything you wanted was squashed and used as an excuse to make you less or crush your spirit.

"STUPID BITCH!", you hear him yell as you poked his eye with your fingernails, in an attempt to stop him from taking your clothes off. He finally smashes the bottle on your head, making you blurry and blood dripping from your wound.

You couldn't stand it any longer and you ran away crying, not out of sadness or helplessness (maybe it was that, but you would never say it out loud) but mostly it was rage, pure and undiluted. You felt pathetic, a fragile doll that broke for someone else's enjoyment.

"Fuck all of you... Ick! You guys are assholes" You clench your fists drawing blood from your wound with a torn piece of cloth from your now torn dress and head to your room, well, those fancy furnishings and decor really couldn't be called a room, it wasn't yours to begin with, just a guest room modified to mimic that of a room for royalty.

Still, you decided it was better to go to your old, dirty and abandoned 'room', which was just the basement where they kept junk and rusty weapons. As you enter, you close the door, dropping into a crouch and hugging your legs, enclosing your face in your dress breaking that elegant facade into sadness and anger.

You were exhausted and tired, very tired of everything, of everyone. Running away from the damn marquis, from the empress, from the nobles. You just wanted to be free, to be happy and find a place to just... be, instead of being a princess forced to live in a damn box and be judged or belittled for every little action.

Sighing as you sat there in that dusty old room, tears streaming down your face as you hid in your dress, you continued to wander in your thoughts. You felt alone, cut off from anything good or happy in this damned place, if there was any happiness in the falsehood of nobility to begin with.

Your snot was running from your nose, your makeup was smeared and you didn't care at the time, you just wanted it all to be over. Sometimes you were angry at your dead mother, you blamed her for your useless elven blood running through your veins. You would even cut yourself to try to get it out and stop being a dirty blood, but all you get were injuries with punishments from the empress, you honestly don't know when was the last time you smiled or if you ever did,

You wanted to keep hating her, she's a mother who never saw you grow up, but you didn't want to be like them, just another human, someone who pretends and discriminates against others just because. It would be hypocritical of you to do so, but sometimes you just want to scream and hate them freely, but it's stupid to do that and you just put your anger aside.

"It's useless, everything is the same every year, what did I expect this time? Mother, is my existence wrong? They just use me and throw me away when I'm not useful. I'm getting tired, how much longer can I go on with this performance?" You cried rubbing your eyes and wiping your smeared makeup with your dress, it was ruined anyway.

Your eyes wandered around the room, looking at old dusty furniture and consumed by time, now they are blurred memories. If you think about it, in the past for some reason, you used to write letters to someone, hoping they would take you away from this place, but those hopes are ephemeral like happiness.

You continued to sit there and cry, your feelings of hopelessness and anger pouring out. The makeup on your face was ruined, but you didn't care, it would be just another reason for the empress to call you a savage, mocking you.

The zero memories of your childhood or the existence of your mother, your life here, everything came over you. It was very hard to face it all, very hard to hold out hope for any kind of happiness for yourself. After all, you were nothing more than a princess in a cage.

For a moment, the sensation you felt in that dream made you think of the stranger, and the memory came to mind, the magical and serene sight. It is contrary to how you felt now.

The moonlight illuminated the old dusty room, your eyes for some reason went to the old table, many broken drawings on it, for a moment you saw yourself as a child writing right there, however something blinded you like a light in your eyes. Curious you get up going to the table, the last time you were here living and sleeping you were exactly 11 years old, so you had left everything the same as when you left.

"What the hell—?" Your gaze went to the pieces of paper, then moving them you coughed through the dust that was released after years in neglect and, shaking it with your hand— A strange piece black as darkness received you, the one that has accompanied you in your life since you are conscious until you forgot it, and if not for today you would still be in oblivion of its existence.

Then, when you took it, an energetic discharge came from the tip to your head, giving you headaches and like a vague memory, you were pulled towards that vision, but it was blurred, what you knew was that you were in a forest. Your hands were small but you did not control this memory and this childish body.

Your ears perked up as you heard your own voice laughing, but it sounded more animated. Sometimes you think the current you is so different from your childhood self, less bitter and miserable.

"M■□ll■s-sama, it's unfair that you always let the human win!"

Another voice interrupted your diatribe and in turn you recognized that it was male, of course with a youthful and scandalous touch. A familiar laughter made you open your eyes in this dream(?), then that stranger whose name you did not fully understand, answered the other man, strangely you did not see who they were, because in this memory you were still hiding behind a tree.

"S□b■k, don't be hard on her, besides I don't want to make her feel bad, my ■□■■■□ is important" Your giggles kept coming out as your eyes made you expectant in this strange dream, just sharing vision with this uncontrolled childish body. The strangers behind the tree, shrouded in mystery, continue to argue.

'What are they talking about?'

You thought to yourself, not your dream self, just your current self. Strangers are still looking for you, you looked like you were 5 years old by the size and high pitched giggles you let out. And that was before you came to the palace, what was not clear to you about this situation and your past self which you didn't remember much, so you are not understanding anything.

The two voices kept talking as the you in this memory peeked out for seconds, unable to really see their faces due to the speed at which you were hiding. You were looking from your childhood perspective, hiding in a tree and laughing to yourself, it all seemed less difficult if you thought about it. The other two males seemed to be looking for you, still arguing as they looked around the area.

Your childhood self seemed cheerful, again you wondered if she was really you or if she was just a past fragment. You looked happy, as if you were having fun playing some kind of game with these strange men. What were they talking about, and why did it seem so familiar, you didn't know, but it hurt your chest to hear yourself laugh.

Since you came to the palace the childish games were over; so seeing this broke you in a certain way. Then you felt big hands taking the shoulders of your childish self, you laughed and named the stranger, but again the seemingly important words or names were cut off and erased, fragments remained of that stage of yours, which you did not know.

"T■un□■ta□■u! hehehe you found me.... You were 3 seconds faster, though it's unfair because S■b□k always complains" Your words and voice were lively, sweeter and in comparison to the bitter words for this life you were leading. The stranger whose face was covered by the sunlight because you were in his arms, his shadowed face looked at you, his fanged lips smiled at you.

His fangs glistened as a smile broke out on his face, laughing at your childish words. His voice was soft and warm, but no less gravelly and elegant, almost like the glow of the incandescent sun on you in the dream.

"You were well hidden, I could hardly find you. But I know your usual hiding places, little ch□■dr□n ■□ m■n." He said with lightness in his voice. One of his big hands moved to stroke your head, tousling your hair as he said this. Even though it was hidden behind the blinding light of the sun, you could still make out its outline....

It had a rather strange silhouette, horns coming out of its head and long wings behind it, something you only saw in forbidden books.... A dragon, but it didn't make sense that it was humanoid.

In fact this whole situation confused you, unfortunately you came back to reality when the darkness swallowed you and you fell to the ground with a sharp blow, the dragon's scale no longer shining as brightly as before. You got up carefully, you were a mess in every sense of the word if you looked at yourself in a mirror.

Picking that thing up carefully, you wonder if this is what made you see that. Are those your memories from when you weren't here? But it didn't make sense, the empress said she found you with two elderly brothers who were farmers, so why - why were you having these weird flashbacks?

You sat on the old bed, holding the dragon scale in your hand and looking at it. Your head was throbbing and your thoughts were a mess. That vision... it was so vivid, like a memory... But how could it be a memory? You come from those farming families, the empress herself had said so... Though knowing her character, she could lie to you as she did about your mother's death.

Those two men in the vision, you couldn't make out any details about them. But why did you feel so close to him in that dream? Besides you had already seen him when you fell asleep on the balcony, is everything connected...?

"Phew, I better go or I might get punished... But I can't leave this here, if they come to clean up, which is rare, they might see it, maybe I should take everything left of this old place" You put the dragon scale in your secret pocket inside your breasts, just when you were about to leave, you also saw the letters hidden under so much trash and dust. Some were torn and some were stained with ink.

Your look is nostalgic, really when you were a simple and silly girl you didn't know how to hide things. So you took them, on your way out you took caution in looking both ways down the dark subway corridor and when you saw the shores clear, you left.

You exited the subway, making sure that no one was there, before leaving. As you did so, you returned to your room as quietly as possible. You hoped that the party was over and everyone was too drunk to notice your absence...

As you walked through the halls, your mind kept thinking about that memory, if it was one. You had so many questions about it, about your past self and who you really were before you turned 6. It was so clear, so real... But who were they? What if... Was it all a strange fantasy of yours? Now you have a faint fragment of hope in you, even if it's vain and selfish.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the empress waiting for you in your room, you panicked hiding the old letters and anything suspicious, she looked at you with false elegance and the lunar shadow did not help your fear to diminish.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you were with the emperor"

You whisper avoiding looking at her, she stood up, unaware that there was your faithful maid. A maid who barely entered months ago and quickly befriended you with insistence; but that doomed her like many. Now she's dead on the floor, again you lost another ally, though you tried to prevent anyone from coming to you, trying to be nice when you couldn't afford that, it's a weakness the empress would exploit.

Said woman continued to look at you with a cold stare, the false elegance on her face unchanged.

"Watch your tone of voice, princess." He said in a cold voice. His cold green eyes scanned you, observing your ragged and disheveled appearance with an almost mocking look on his face.

"I heard about what happened between you and the marquis earlier, my dear." You swallowed bile cursing everyone and her for that false sweetness in her voice. She took a step towards you and her tone quickly changed to a higher pitched one.

"You know how much I despise it when you embarrass me like that."

Her hands went to your bare, messy shoulders, your hair was ragged and that only added to her condescending tone, mocking your messy appearance. You bit your lips, she knew everything, she always does. You're more sure that damn dog Duboff made a fuss complaining about you, you just expected the worst in situations like that.

"W-what's wrong with it, Your Highness? I only defended myself, or are you afraid of rumors? For example... That you don't take good care of me, and even if I AM THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER! You still treat me badly-" Her nails finished digging into your skin as a warning but you were so fed up that you continued.

"And yes I did, I don't give a damn anymore anyway, that dog deserved it! He's a scumbag, he wanted to abuse me, hahaha you don't even care about my image, only yours and your ego-Urgh!" A slap echoed in the empty room. The empress snarled with a contorted face, you laughed internally as you watched her lose her composure, she was a fucking bitch to you.

It was quite satisfying to see the empress lose her composure in this way. Her face contracted in anger, a complete contrast to her normally reserved and cold demeanor. She had just slapped you, leaving a red mark on your cheek.... but you couldn't help but laugh at this. Seeing her lose control like this was almost funny.

The empress snarled at your laughter, the anger and irritation clear on her face. She moved closer to you, grabbing your hair and tugging on it.

"How dare you talk to me like that... You're a dirty bastard blood!"

The empress's face was now contorted with anger, frustration and humiliation. After all, how dare you speak to her like that, especially at a party meant to celebrate her benevolence? You should thank her for even existing, but here you were like a brazen rat.

"You ungrateful, insolent bitch!" She spat, tugging at your scalp and grabbing your cheeks hard so you could look her in the eye.

"How dare you speak to me like that, I who have given you everything! Your position as princess, your meals, your clothes, let it be clear to you that you are inferior to me, without my help the emperor wouldn't care about you!"

"... I didn't want to be this! Do you know how many nights I starved to death just because you and those maids wanted me to? You don't know anything, my life is not really mine but I'm running out of patience, even when I wanted to run away, you didn't let me... I begged you, but no more!"

"You're a-" Her hand reached up to hit you again but when you tried to pull away she only abused you more until it hurt all over, then complained about your rebelliousness and savagery.

He continued to prattle on about your insolence, debating whether he should kill you or not, but decided to leave, only punishing you by locking you in the room and ordering that no one was to come in or go out to feed you for a week.

You got up when she left, she might as well kill herself and you wouldn't care. After a while, you changed your clothes after a relaxing and decent bath, no insults or dirty water. You were self-sufficient enough, since you were treated like a maid when you first arrived, you did everything.

At the end of the night you lay staring at the letters on your bed, those letters written by you that for some reason you don't quite remember why you did it. "Ahh... what a day this was."

You were left in your room, alone once again. The empress had left you with a burning cheek and a week of hungry solitary confinement. But it didn't matter, you were used to it.

With slow steps to the bed, you plopped down on the bed and then settled in, your eyes drifting to the old letters scattered on the bedspread. They were written in childish scribbles, but somehow they had some meaning. Why did you write this? And to whom? You had long forgotten the reasons behind it... You had priorities, like not dying for that woman's whims.

With nothing to do, you decided to read them, starting with the one with the oldest date and paper. The letter began somewhat disorganized, it read like this:

March 23, first date of the solar calendar. 'It happened again today, I miss you Tsunotarou so much..... Mairy yelled at me again, you know, I know I'll never give you these letters but I hope someday to see you so I can read them for you, although I think it's more for convenience. Nobody wants me here, I shouldn't have run away from home, Uncle Lilia was right. Humans are not the same, much less easy to understand. They are like me, physically they are but they don't act like I thought they would. Everyone says I'm a dirty blood worse than a commoner, Sebek was right when he said we are bad, but I'm not like that.

Your expression softened but mostly out of confusion and the feeling that comes from reading this. So that's what the nickname you were talking about in the dream was... That silhouette was Tsunotarou? You didn't know but your head hurt thinking about it and even for some reason you got stuck trying to say that nickname, but still you continued reading.

April 16 of the solar calendar 'I'm very sad, I hardly remember Uncle Lilia anymore, I'm very afraid. Tsunotarou... what if I forget you too? I don't want that, so I'll keep writing letters, so maybe my adult self will read them, I hope everything gets better, because today they made me mop the floor and the housekeeper punished me for something I didn't do. The older maids threw water and cow dung on my floor, when I had already cleaned it, I really want to come back to you Tsunotarou'.

Your expression became somewhat inexplicable, you felt the tears fall again for no apparent reason, you did not understand this feeling. Perhaps compassion for your previous innocent self, who was hurt and crushing your spirit to become what you are today.

The cards only continued to get worse. Your past self was young and innocent, so full of optimism and hope, but instead was only met with suffering. She was treated like dirt, forced to do tasks she wasn't cut out for, and others around her bullied her...and no one did anything to stop it. Your heart ached as you read the letter from your past self, and tears streamed down your face as you read it.

You clenched the letter tightly in your hand, your heart felt heavy in your chest... You didn't know if you wanted to keep reading because you were honestly so devastated by the constant abuse you've normalized, but reading all this just makes you feel sorry for yourself.

Still, you catch a glimpse of one letter in particular lying on the corner of your bed, it's crumpled and musty as if it had been wet. Trembling you pick it up reading it and it just opens up another memory you had blocked out for yourself.

XX December of ... ??? 'Tsunotarou... I no longer remember why or why I am writing this, who are you, that I am writing this to you? I don't know, maybe it was all a dream and you, Tsunotarou whoever you are, don't exist. Last week I was caught trying to escape, but I don't remember the reason for it. Honestly it's all confusing so I'll stop writing these meaningless letters. I just know I've been hiding them, so I have to respect that about myself.... Well, this is goodbye.

Now you remember! This is the last letter you wrote, you only know you finished it because of the first line, that nickname, you wrote it weeks before and you don't remember much. Suddenly your head starts to hurt and you get a lot of cut memories that make you cry in pain.

As you read that last letter, you were hit with a flood of memories. They came back vividly, but it was still a little fuzzy in your mind.

You remembered why you wrote the letters. You were writing to him, that man you played with in the woods in your dream. You remembered him... and you remembered his nickname. Tsunotarou. Even the mere thought of it made your head throb. But as the memories slowly came back, you couldn't help but sob at the truth of all the events and the realization of it.

What little you know of this is due to the only clues you had. With determination, you were determined to seek the truth behind your whole life and your lost happy childhood, so these days where the empress locked you up, you would flee through the secret corridors you had discovered in this room since you lived in it.

Wandering the aisles of the library in the middle of the night, you were looking for books on magic or creatures of that kind, which were burned years ago by the wars, it was hard to find them.

Despite feeling so tired, your heart was beating with determination. You knew you had to find the answers behind everything. It was time for you to find out the truth about your past and the real reason why you were here. You had so many questions running around in your mind....

But it was already late and you could already feel the tiredness invading your body after searching the library, so you walked with your books in hand through the corridors until you reached your room. With a tired sigh, you lay down on your bed, thoughts still running through your head as you slowly drifted off into an intermittent sleep...

And so for the rest of the week, you went to the basement to see if there was anything else but there was not. Then you rummaged through the housekeeper's room finding the strange bag that you now had in your room, in front of you.

There was a strange old stuffed animal, some exotic flowers you didn't know about, a map crumpled and yellowed from years but most surprising were the many dragon scales in a jar.

This was definitely yours, but why would you have this here? It didn't make sense and besides there were 2 books downstairs, one had drawings of 4 men, three of them with pointed ears and one was like the silhouette in your dream, with horns.

The other was a human like you but wore a uniform; also, the second book had strange spells in it. The spell book was like the few pieces of page you found in the library on the hidden side. Thoroughly checking between pages, you saw a piece of paper with something written on it, there was also a drawing made by you most likely, underneath the apparent lullaby.

Something about the drawing of the horned man seemed strangely familiar to you, though you didn't know why. Maybe there was a connection between him and that man in your dream... Curious, you read the writing on the paper, although due to the bad handwriting and scribbles on it, it was difficult to read.

You let go of the paper from your hands because your head started to hurt, a male voice echoed in your erased memories. It was a quiet place, a comfortable bed and finally you saw black tinted lips and fangs, he sang you that song but again, his face was blurred.

You gripped the paper once again tighter, your head throbbing from the strange memory that came over you. The memory was fuzzy, but it was still clear enough that you could make out the vague silhouette of a man, fangs and lips tinged with black. He was singing that song to you, his voice soft and comforting.

Te agarraste la cabeza, tratando de recordar más, pero el dolor de cabeza sólo pareció empeorar. ¿Por qué tus recuerdos volvieron repentinamente a ti una vez más, y fue realmente Tsunotaoru, el hombre que te parecía tan familiar...? No lo sabías así que simplemente te volviste a dormir, cayendo profundamente

The breeze on your face welcomes you back, dazed you open your eyes seeing that you were now on a marble table near the oak tree. Confused you wake up and this time you see that you are not a teenager, more like a girl, this confuses you a lot.

Walking aimlessly, you hear in the distance in the same oak tree or further on, in the tulip field, someone singing, that same song you read in that paper.

I know you I walked with you once in a dream I know you That look in your eyes is such a familiar gleam. And I know it's true, that visions are rarely what they seem.

The tune was different, but undoubtedly it is the same voice and the same place as when that little girl in the dream led you there, the same person singing that lullaby.

But I know you I know what you will do You will love me once and for all As you once did in a dream

You kept moving forward, the smell of flowers filled your nose and as if taking the place of the girl who you assume is your inner self, you continue moving towards the figure on the hill, standing among so many flowers looking at the sun.

But I know you I know what you do You love me at the same time As you once did in a dream I know you I walked with you once in a dream

The wind was soft and cool against your skin as you walked through the tulip field. The sweet smell of flowers filled the air and the sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. As you continued walking, you heard that familiar song echoing in the air.

"Who are you really?" you whisper in that childish little voice, this time you control this body and even if you expected an answer, there is only silence.

The closer you got, the more your heart pounded in your chest. And then, you finally saw it: a tall horned figure standing a few feet away from you.

Something in his majestic, magical and calming presence made you cry. At this moment you became a little girl taking the place of your inner self, now you just wanted to hug that man and run in his arms, like a game.

"Tsunotarou... that's what your name is?" those simple words made the horned figure look at you, with a slow step he walked up to you bending down to look at you.

The stranger smiled at you as he bent down to your level. He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his gaze warm and affectionate.

"Yes, it's me" he whispered in response.

"I have missed you so much." This time your inner self spoke for you, since you wouldn't be able to understand its identity or the feelings it provokes in you, but you don't want to push it away either.

The man dressed in black hugged you tightly, squeezing you close to his chest. It was a protective embrace and you could feel the love and affection in his touch.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to see you again, the clues I left you in your dreams, do you still have doubts my little girl?"

You nodded as you let yourself be carried by him, all your stress or bitter attitudes gone. There is only you and that lost innocence.

"Sorry if I don't understand anything, it's just that I forgot you and that frustrates me" This time you spoke from your heart, with the truth. Without lying to anyone much less yourself and he seemed to understand.

"Everything will have an answer, but I've missed you too, I can't be near you because I wouldn't know how to control myself, I may lose control if I see you more than I should" His whispers sounded melancholy and plaintive, but deep down his tone threatened to overflow into madness and rage.

"Then why didn't you come for me? I don't remember but I feel like I sink into a sadness thinking about you" This time he kept silent, his face you couldn't see but you felt the tension in his body.

"...There were reasons beyond my power that prevented me from that, besides if I went after you I could have accidentally killed you in my rage looking for you."

Despite his words you felt disappointed with him, you still decided not to hate him, you didn't want to be a bad person, no matter how bitter you were.

"I understand... But could you answer me something, why don't I remember you well? I know you had something to do with me however, I don't remember, much less know who I was before what I am now."

The strange man again took your face in his hands and you saw why you couldn't see him, there was a mist blurring his face.

"I don't think it's time yet, but I assure you that in a few weeks you will know... Until then, I will see you and answer your questions, my little daughter of man. Because we saw each other in a dream-"

You wanted to keep asking but he kissed your forehead and you fell into a dream within your dreamlike sleep, finally waking up hyperventilating.

"... Fuck I couldn't ask him his real name."

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menlove · 16 hours

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Hey have you read any good McLennon fix-its

OH BOY HAVE I. i love mclennon fix-its they genuinely heal my soul & they're for sure my favorite i'm ngl. here we gooooo. just pulling from my bookmarks in no particular order...

favorites have a 💖 next to them!

blood on the tracks by mynamesbetty

gen-mature. 66k modern au, 11 part series, eventual fix-it. He was a grown man, a rock star, richer than Croesus, emotionally stable, and more than capable of handling a surprise visit from his ex-husband. Paul married John when he was eighteen and divorced him at twenty-nine. Two years later, John pays Paul a visit.

'til touchdown brings me round again to find by wardo_weditit

explicit. 12k. It was one thing when he was doing this for Elton—yeah, because of a bet, but mostly because Elton is his friend and he wants to support him. It was just a one-off thing that seemed like it could be fun, or cool, or maybe even memorable. But now, if Paul’s going to be there, it takes on a hell of a lot more meaning because that’s the way it goes, that’s what things with Paul always do. Or, Paul comes to see John's surprise appearance at Elton's show, and grand gestures abound.

here you come again by harmonising

mature. 16k. (take this one w a grain of salt i can't remember if it's a full fix it? but well. john's alive, so) 1982. John comes back to England. He and Paul spend a weekend together.

Grow Old With Me by inherownwrite 💖

explicit. 8k. Paul breaks his arm, and John panics.

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) by wardo_wedidit 💖

mature. 39k. “Jesus, took you long enough,” John says, adjusting the duffle over his shoulder. “Thought I might be out here til morning at this rate.” For a second he wonders if he’s drunker than he thought, but no. As far as he can tell, it is still 1980, and he hasn’t seen or so much as spoken to John in ten years. Or, John comes to stay with Paul in Scotland to ride out the press storm of his divorce to Yoko, and Paul learns to stop running away.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards 💖

mature. 27k. (i'm not kidding i think this one is my favorite ever mclennon fics. it's only 27k but it feels like an entire novel. this lives in my head rent free forever. this is my heartstopper or whatever the kids are saying) John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be

Stop all the clocks by javelinbk

mature. 30k. For the following kink meme prompt: ‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’ Also based on the following comment on said prompt: ‘pls someone let them fuck tenderly in 1967’

I Need My Love to Be Here by notgrungybitchin

explicit. 8k. After John gets his first panic attack in Hamburg, he starts to realize that Paul might be the only person who can bring him back to himself.

#i know theres a couple others but i cant find them rn rip #mclennon

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nthspecialll · 1 day

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Javier pointed his gun up... but he also didn't

I have always been on the "Javier pointed his gun up" team, especially because there is an interview with Javier's va saying he did point it up, however after seeing all of the "he actually didn't" I decided to look into it and they are right, there is a short moment you can see him pointing the gun at John and Arthur.

I absolutely hate tumblr for not allowing more vids in a post but at 00.24 is the scene and at 00.34 it is pointed out.

However what does this mean? We have two contradictions, one being the literal game, the other being a voice actor coming out and saying that he actively fought for Javier to point his gun up, we cannot dismiss either. They both has meaning, the fact that he pointed it up and he pointed it at Arthur and John has a meaning and it makes the scene so much more heart breaking.

I think this scene really shows Javier's emotional conflict, because this was not a "slow draw" as I have also seen people say, Javier's va literally states it isn't, this is hesitation, this is conflict, this is discomfort, he does not want to point that gun at John and Arthur but he does it in the end either way because he also does not want to betray Dutch.

(More thoughts under the cut but they are more in dept for the nerds like myself)

The thing with Javier is that he can see things are going wrong, but unlike John and Arthur he doesn't experience it first hand. The two others were left to die by Dutch several times each meanwhile Javier wasn't, while Arthur saw Dutch killing an old lady and going against his principals, Javier saw Dutch coming to rescue him when he needed it the most. Dutch went out of his way to save Javier, meanwhile, Arthur was left even when Dutch could have saved him with minimal effort in the factory.

Dutch gave Javier a job, clothing, food and a family, he gave him everything that he could have hoped for, this was the best-case scenario for Javier when he crossed the border. Javier owes everything to Dutch, it is natural he wants to stick with him because Javier was in a special situation and Dutch was one of a kind. Javier spoke no English, he was in his twenties, he was weak, he was starving, he had nothing. Arthur and John on the other hand, though they owe Dutch a lot, they could have made it even without him (at least if John had made it out the gallows). They were young, they spoke english, they were harsh, and any idiot with a dream could see they had potential, Javier did not have that. It is a the young, influential puppy vs the old, rusty backyard dog.

Still Javier never saw Dutch as family, not in the sense that John and Arthur did, Dutch was never a father to him, Dutch was an employer, so he doesn't get to see Dutch making less and less sense.

That being said, while Javier trusts Dutch, he also trusts his friends, he respects Arthur and John, he knows they are smart, he knows that they believe in Dutch, so he knows that if they are acting out then there is a reason, the problem is he doesn't see the reason as justifiable. But then again, it could very well be because he has no choice but to deem it unjustifiable.

John and Arthur were born in USA, it is their country, they have the right to be there and they have the privilege of being white strong males in the land of dreams, Javier does not, he is strong, he is male, but he is not white, he is a man of color and he is hated for it, we see so many times people throw slurs at him. With the gang broken, Javier is back at where he was when he first to USA. He would struggle being able yo find another gang in the states that would accept him, he wouldn't be able to make a living on his own and he does not want to go back to Mexico because he knows it would put his family at risk, that was the whole reason he fled in the first place.

He believes in Dutch because he has no other choice, because he has nowhere to go with the gang broken up. After it happens we can read that in 1907 he is holed up in a mountain, he is staying away from the area his family is from because he doesn't want to put them in danger, he is not thriving or living his life.

Javier never saw John as a traitor, he never did, he is also the only person on "Dutch's side" to defend John when he is being accused of being the traitor, except when it is to Arthur, then he is okay kind of accusing John because he can't let it show that he is desperate.

He never stopped caring for John or Arthur though, he tells Arthur to worry about his cough, indirectly to take care of himself, and in 1911 Javier is stalling, he does not want to harm John, something very visible when he chooses to jump out the window even though he had every chance at shooting John and get it over with, ensure his own survival, not to mention, he knew about John's daughter, meaning he has been watching John.

"Oh but he shouted at John and called Abigail all sorts of things." This is a broken man we are talking about, a man who has lost everything, a man who has no legacy, a man who has no real life, a man who saw the one person he believed turn crazy, a man who has just realized he is about to die, a man who has most likely wished for death for a long time but doesn't know what to feel now it is coming, you would be desperate too, you would shout over the mountains because there are no consequences, because you will be dead anyways.

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #john marston #rdr john #red dead redemption community #dutch van der linde #rdr2 john #rdr1 javier #rdr2 javier #javier escuella #rdr2 dutch #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead horses #rdr1 #character analysis

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getvalentined · 1 day

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I posted about this on the twits, but I'm gonna do it here too because it's not like this is limited to that platform.

Since I've been seeing my least favorite shitty FF7 rumor around again, friendly reminder that there are no "legal issues" between Gackt and SE delaying anything. Sources claiming otherwise say "trust me bro" when Nomura has literally said it was just the workload.

People who claim that delays in production of anything in the Compilation are because of Gackt are parroting a rumor that's been around for over a decade, which was started by people who used it as an excuse to be racist and homophobic under the thin veneer of frustrated criticism. The majority of hatred toward the character of Genesis Rhapsodos in early fandom, and hatred toward Genesis in modern day fandom from OG Purists, stems from this same place.

Why do you think these people always assert that Genesis' very existence "ruins Sephiroth's character," but never complain about Angeal? Why do you think they have no problems with Aerith having a Jenova-infused Angeal Copy in her church for years—something that should totally change her understanding of the Crisis, but doesn't seem to in any way whatsoever—and yet anything and everything Genesis does is treated as an unforgivable retcon?

It's an excuse to say heinous, horrible things about an all-but-explicitly queer character who is modeled off a real Japanese man, and that's all it ever was, but it gets a pass because they dress it up as criticism of the franchise. Then, when they inevitably start throwing out slurs, nobody cares because "it's just Gackt—I mean Genesis, everyone knows he sucks."

Yeah, you "know" because you let a bunch of bigots tell you he should be judged more harshly than any other character in the entire series because he's not white or straight enough. Because he's based directly on a real flesh-and-blood Japanese man, and to these people that makes him deserving of hate, because people like that shouldn't exist. Because the character is all but explicitly queer (and it is even more explicit in the original language and when accounting for some key culturally-specific literary references portrayed throughout the narrative), and people like that shouldn't exist.

You "know" because you never questioned why this character specifically is the only one it's "objectively and morally correct" to hate and belittle, even though everything he's supposedly hated for applies to multiple other characters throughout the series.

The character is loathed, and the actor is blamed for everything, because some old guard fans said that's how it's supposed to be in this fandom, and if you don't engage with things that way then you don't deserve to be here.

Very cool and normal behavior!

There are very valid reasons to dislike this character, mind you, and plenty of reasons to be critical of the actor. I'm not saying otherwise. I'm saying the pervasive and frankly disgusting fandom-wide hatred stems from the same place as the continued, repeatedly disproven assertion that Gackt is to blame for everything "wrong" with the Compilation and its development: bigotry. I know this because I saw these assertions come into being in real time when Crisis Core first came out. I watched the people saying these things post the most homophobic rants on their personal accounts, I watched people I considered friends get banned from LJ communities for referring to Genesis as Gackt and referring to Gackt with racial slurs.

And I watched them come back later, promising they were better people now, armed with new claims and new arguments that allowed them to continue to be hateful trashfires without getting in trouble. As long as they weren't overt, it was okay. If they slipped up and used a slur in the comments that was mostly okay, since it wasn't in the main post. Mods might lock a thread here and there, but those people got to stay. Their "criticism" was "valid," and thus their bigotry was validated.

Those same claims and complaints are still regurgitated today, only now it's by people who aren't racist and aren't homophobic, but don't realize that their criticism is horribly unbalanced because it was all born from people who were just masking hatred.

Even worse is when these behaviors are mimicked by people claiming to like the character, because the fandom taught them that this was how you're supposed to engage with him, because it's just Gackt—Genesis (I said Genesis!) so he's a piece of shit no matter how you slice it and he deserves to be treated that way. Nobody else does, and nobody questions it, because this is just how it's done.

I'm sorry to be the one to tell people this, but if you slap a bunch of gay stereotypes onto Genesis and then have the characters around him treat him like shit because of them, while implying or outright insisting that IT'S OKAY BECAUSE IT'S GENESIS AND HE SUCKS SO IT'S FUNNY, you are following in the footsteps of bigots. If you constantly refer to the character as "Gackt" like the name itself is a pejorative, you are following in the footsteps of bigots.

No, there is no nuance here. I don't care if you allegedly came to all these conclusions on your own—you didn't and you know it—except for the fact that actually that's worse, because it means that you did some kind of deep dive in the source material and came out the other side agreeing with a bunch of racist homophobes who are still spitting bullshit after over 15 years.

Do fucking better.

#fandom vent #fandom bullshit #genesis rhapsodos

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st0ne-wasps · 2 days

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Regards

Not the most creative title but eh. Tim's pov, he goes back to Benedict Hall to search for his friends body's to bury them. I'm not sure if tumblr is going to let me post this as one thing or not but we'll see. I'll accept polite criticism but keep in mind I mostly just did this for fun/as an experiment and to make my partner sad lol.

(TW: body burying, murder flashbacks, angst, blood, death, swearing)

I yanked the key out of the ignition with a huff. I felt bad leaving Jessica so suddenly with so little explanation— I know what it’s like to deal with this alone— but I can’t stay anywhere near this town anymore. Or anywhere in Alabama. I couldn’t wait to get my sorry ass out of this place, but there’s something I have to do before I can even attempt to leave this all behind.

I stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind me with a thunk and a beep of the car locking that were louder than they should have been. Fucking Benedict Hall, I hoped the place would burn down as I stepped onto the well-kempt grass. The parking lot behind me was empty, lit up with oranges and purples from the setting sun, the harsh streetlights that just recently turned themselves on automatically seeming out of place in the softer light.

I stalked down the paved pathways, carrying a duffle bag over my shoulder and trying to use its size to block my face, in case any overtime workers stayed past their shift, or any security cameras were pointed my way. My footsteps echoed painfully loudly off the brick walls of the college buildings, threatening to give me away to someone that probably wasn’t even there.

I reached for the door, my hand shaking until I squeezed the handle to keep it steady. I opened the door slowly, scared it was going to creak and groan in protest— but it must have been well-oiled, because it didn’t make a sound.

Being back in these hallways got my heart pounding, and I shook my head to quiet my ringing ears. I had to do this, I can’t back out now. For them.

I searched the halls, not remembering the exact locations of… what I was looking for. I passed a room filled with pews, and paused as something caught my eye— a white mug, just sitting abandoned on top of one of the long benches. It was odd, but it wasn’t important, and I kept walking. I flinched at every shadow, every shifting of the old building, but I didn't stop again.

I started to pass by another hall, but just as quickly I stopped. The stairwell was familiar. I could clearly imagine my old college friend, standing there and holding a gun towards that over-curious man. It wasn’t hard to imagine— it was more like remembering the murder I had second-handedly witnessed, posted on fucking Youtube for horror fanatics and thrill seekers to watch with ignorant eyes. They may have witnessed the worst moment of my life, but they were not permitted to see anything I was about to do. This is between me and my old classmates.

I stormed down the hall with a renewed vigor, turning the halls I had practically memorized after watching the video a million fucking times. I turned into the room, almost expecting to see that spindly creature that had ruined my life— but the room was empty. I stepped through the door, switching my bag to the other shoulder as I glanced around.

There he was.

Jay Merrick. The amiteur detective, really just a nostalgic, curious kid. He didn’t deserve to be sitting here like this. Slumped against the wall, camera that had run out of battery hours ago in hand, blood that had once seeped through his soft green jacket now dried and firm. His eyes were closed, almost as if he could have been resting after a long day of snooping and stalking old acquaintances.

I wanted to throw up just looking at him. If he had just left me alone, he would be alive. If I had just been a normal person and told him to fuck off, he would be alive. If I had just…. I shook my head as my ears started ringing again. I can’t focus on this right now. I have to do this. I can’t leave him like this, for my own sake, but mostly for him. He’d deserve the peace of mind.

I knelt beside him, setting down my bag behind me. I gently grabbed his face and tilted it towards my own. I tried to memorize his face, but tears blurred my vision. I absentmindedly stroked his cold cheek with my thumb as I gently removed his hat with my other hand. I… I don’t want to take from him, but I can’t… I can’t let my only keepsake be the damned 670k Youtube channel. I hooked the sweatband of the hat to my belt loop and let it hang there, lifeless as my friend before me. Friend. I never got to tell him I saw him as my friend.

I let go of his face, careful to make sure it rests gently, before I unzipped the bag and pulled out one of four large trash bags. It was far from what he deserved, but it was only temporary. I opened the bag as wide as it would go, and tried to push Jay inside as gently as possible.

It wasn’t as delicate as I would have hoped. It was awkward, and his limbs were at odd angles, and I shuddered as I accidentally touched the crusty blood on his shirt. I closed up the bag and paused. I had to leave him somewhere while I got the others. It was too risky to put him near the entrance, but I couldn’t just leave him here…

I sighed as I resigned myself to carrying them one at a time. I slung the duffle bag over my shoulder, and lifted the trash bag over my other. I heaved both of them back through the door and to my car, laying the hefty trash bag into my trunk as gently as possible, before heading back into the building for a second time tonight.

I started where I’d left off, but turned down a different hallway this time. The tiles and lockers were sickeningly familiar as I saw myself hacking and coughing onto the floor, shouting as I chased to the end of the hall and up against the balcony.

Now, in the present time, I slowly shuffled down the corridor, feeling something disgustingly akin to simple embarrassment as I approached the banister and looked down.

Where was he?

I paused. He should be there. Brian should be there. I raced down the stairs as fast as my body would allow, and I almost fell, but I caught myself on the railing and sprinted to the spot right under where I had just been standing.

No no no no, fuck. Where was he? He was right here. He couldn’t have gone anywhere— he was dead. I heard his skull crack onto the floor. I saw him lay there, still as a board while I rummaged through his pockets. At the time, I thought he was just some sick fuck who liked tormenting me and my hat-wearing companion, but Brian… It was him. It had been him. The whole time.

And he had been right. Fucking. There. I would have been standing on him now. But he was nowhere to be seen. Fuck this, I had to find him. I bet the pale twig fucker had moved him. That shithead, he’d ruined my whole life, but messing with Brian’s corpse was about to be the last straw.

I sprinted down each hall, only stopping when my bag of supplies got caught on something or I thought I saw something that could be Brian. But he wasn’t anywhere. Or at least, not anywhere in this building. I leaned against a doorway, panting and trying to catch my breath again, feeling a tickle in my throat that threatened to lead to a coughing fit before I saw it.

Something faded and yellow looking, in the room with the pews and the odd mug. It couldn’t be. I ran into the room as fast as my slowly tiring legs would allow, and I fell to my knees when I reached my destination.

It wasn’t Brian. But it was his hoodie. Laying strewn across one of the pews and looking terribly empty and lifeless without the smiley man inside of it. I grabbed the fabric, feeling the familiar texture and tears begging to spill from my eyes. It felt so wrong to be holding it without my old friend as its occupant. I held the hoodie to my chest, wiping my face with my own sleeve to avoid getting my tears on it. I inhaled shakily, looking around the area once more— where I had just taken the hoodie from, some sort of black fabric had been laying beneath it. I grabbed it, and instinctively recoiled when I saw what it was, dropping it to the floor and standing up to put space between me and it.

It was a fucking T-shirt. But not a plain one, or a band-branded one, or even one with a sucky pun on it. Instead, it had that damn frowny face, sewed onto the front and mocking me. Look at me, I’m so sad it seemed to say to me, and I kicked it further away from me with my shoe. Fucking disgusting. But I needed to take something with me, something of Brian’s that I could let go of, leave behind to rot. I stuck his faded hoodie under my arm and pulled out another trash bag from my fabric one. I shoved the makeshift mask in with little delicacy. At least I wouldn’t have to make another trip right at this moment.

Fuck that, who thinks like that? There’s no bright side to this… but if there was, Brian could’ve found it, I remembered bitterly. Always such a ray of sunshine for others, even when he was struggling himself. I felt guilty for how many times I must have burdened him while he needed help himself, before I had realized how much he had going on in his own life. I can only hope that he would have forgiven me. Scratch that, I knew that he would have forgiven me without a second thought— the real debate was whether I deserved his forgiveness.

I knew that I didn’t. I’d killed him. Really, I’d killed them all.

But I continued my search. Just one more estranged friend to go. I left the stacked-pews room, and glanced down each hallway, trying to ignore the texture of my old best friend's hoodie under my arm. I could reminisce later. I listened to my own breathing as I continued down the hallway. And the sound of my footsteps. And the sound of a pipe leaking, somewhere in the building. It was eerily quiet, in the building and in my own mind. I didn’t know what to think, what to expect. So I didn’t think about anything as I searched the empty campus for the rageful director.

He probably would have liked a college like this. It wasn’t too different from the one the two of us had gone to together, though the focus on the Arts would have made him happy, and the catholic part would have pleased his parents, though I don’t think it would have been his first pick.

I continued down the hallways, my mind bouncing from one pointless topic to the other, trying to momentarily avoid the weight of the situation. Of my actions. I would’ve liked to slow my steps, drag out the moments for just a while longer. While I knew what would be before me when I find what I’m searching for, I didn’t really know what I was going to have to face. But I couldn't keep stalling, the soft sunset had already turned into cool moonlight, shining in pools on the slightly dusty tile floors. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.

I headed up a stairwell, one that I’d been up before but only really recognized through film— the moments before I had been here were blurry, almost lost to me. But I didn’t need video proof to remember what I had done as I saw the speckles of dried blood at the top of the stairs. I inhaled shakily as I pushed myself up the final step, and my eyes followed the trail of increasing blood splatter around a sharp corner.

Hesitantly, I turned the corner. And he was just as I’d left him.

Alex Kralie, aspiring film director, hardass, and my old semi-friend. I was never that close with him, but he had seemed like a good guy. He had been a good guy— quick tempered, sure, stubborn as all hell but… he’d had a dream. And could anyone really blame him for doing whatever he could to achieve it? He’d had a fire about him, an undeniable spark that would have taken him to great places.

If he wasn’t lying dead on the hard flooring, blood clotted and dried long ago. And man, there was a lot of blood. It covered his shirt, splattered across his face, even smeared across the lenses of his glasses— which had been knocked to the other end of the hall, likely broken in some way. I stared at the roughed-up corpse, frozen to the spot. My ears were ringing loud as shit. My vision was blurry, but I wasn’t sure if it was from tears, or something else.

I could still remember the feeling. Of the adrenaline when he held that gun towards me, of the desperation in his and my own voice, trying to urge each other to different things— and even though I may have “won”, how could I know I was “right?’ —and of my dull knife digging into his flesh, and the blood covering my hand and forearm, dripping onto the floor by the stairs and still yet to be found and cleaned.

I tried to calm my breathing, closing my eyes as I inhaled, and exhaled. When I opened them again, I walked unsteadily to Alex’s forgotten glasses. I picked them up— or, most of them. One of the arms of the frame had snapped off, and was still on the floor. I picked that up too. Both pieces were spotted with blood. I didn’t walk back over to Alex yet, but I set my bag down and pulled a rag and some bleach out of it. I wet the rag with the bleach and wiped off his glasses, before putting them in my bag, and I went ahead and put my old friend's yellow hoodie in there with them as well.

Applying more bleach to the rag, and grabbing another garbage bag before carefully heading over to Alex’s body and crouching before him.

For years, if I had stood before him, I would’ve felt rage. Annoyance. Playful exasperation at best. But seeing him like this, splayed across the floor, defeated, I could only feel pity. Pity for dragging him into this— even unknowingly. Pity for ruining his dream, his life. Pity for myself, because even as he lies, cold and stiff before me, I see myself in him. We are both cowards. The only difference between us being that he can finally stop and rest. But I will keep living as a coward. I am going to keep running. Even now, I run from the consequences of actions I could never explain, nor justify.

I set the rag and trash bag beside me, and sigh— I should really have thought to bring gloves or something. I grab Alex by the shoulders and try to maneuver him into the bag. I try to be as careful as I was for the cameraman, but the feeling of the dried blood on my fingers makes me rush, and I’m not quite as gentle as I would have liked to have been, not quite as gentle as he deserves me to be with him.

Once he was in and sealed up the bag, I put him to the side and pulled out more rags from my bag. It wouldn’t be my first time playing janitor, but it would definitely be the least pleasant. I covered the rags in bleach, trying to inhale as little of the fumes as possible— I should have thought to bring a mask, too— and I cleaned the floor of the crusty red splatters as meticulously as possible.

Even though the proof of what I’d done was all over the internet, if there was no physical proof, no one could prove it was anything more than a stupid art project— that’s what everyone thought it was anyways. An “ARG” or a “found footage horror” or an “urban legend brought to life.” They all thought it was a game, a show, made for their sick entertainment. But as infuriated as it makes me, it’s best for everyone that that’s what they believe, not just me and the consequences I’d face.

It took a few excruciating hours, but at least I could be certain I had removed every speck of Alex’s blood from the hallway. Honestly, I shouldn’t have waited so long to do this, it would have been way easier if the blood hadn’t been dried… but I’d needed to be prepared. And now that I had finished everything I’d needed to do at Benedict Hall, I could begin working on the main reason I’d come here. Yes, I’d have to remove the evidence… but… this next part was more important to me.

I shoved my ruined cleaning supplies into the last trash bag I’d packed, and slung my duffle over my shoulder, and heaved Alex up into my arms. I wish I could have found my old best friend's body, but just as a selfish thought, I’m glad I’d only have to make this trip twice, instead of three times.

When I finally got to my car, and put everything into the trunk, I was tired. Really tired. The moon was already in the middle of the sky, and I still had so much to do. I couldn’t stop, the risk of what I’m doing being discovered was too much. And they deserved this small sacrifice from me. It was the least I could do.

I hopped into my car, listening to it start up before pulling out of the parking lot as fast as I could without being a danger. I tried to let the sound of the road calm me, trying even harder to ignore what I had in the back of my car. It wouldn’t be too far, but it couldn’t be close enough to here to be suspicious. As much as I’d like to have gone somewhere sentimental for this, I couldn’t risk doing it anywhere that had been shown on the hat-wearing kid’s little documentary.

Eventually I found a good enough spot, and pulled myself off-road as far as my car would allow, before hitting the treeline. Hopefully no one spotted it and came to check on me, but the road was completely empty, so I tried not to worry about it too much.

I got out and pulled my duffle bag and the two plastic trash bags out of my trunk. They were all heavy as fuck, but I could manage. I hauled them into the woods, an ironic location, but it was the safest place. For them, at least. I kept sending glances behind my shoulder, as seemingly-casually as possible.

Once I thought I was in far enough, and then some, I finally set everything down. I sat down as well, giving myself a moment to regain my breath before more inevitable physical labor.

Eventually, I stood up and pulled the long shovel out of my bag. I sighed internally at the effort this was going to take, but I knew that it would be worth it as I pierced the fresh earth with the tip of the tool. I yanked out the first clump of dirt. Only a lot more to go.

I dug out another small divot, hoping I wouldn’t run into too many roots or large stones.

I pressed the shovel into the dirt again, willing the body’s of my friends behind me to know that I was doing this for them.

I heard the scrunching sound of dirt being scraped from the ground and realized I should have brought some sort of measuring tape to be able to know when I got to six feet down.

Eventually I lost count, and fell into a rhythm. A solemn rhythm, but one nonetheless. Still, my arms were burning from the effort by the time I thought I got far enough. I climbed out of the hole and opened up one of the trash bags.

It was Alex. I guess it’s only fair for him to be buried first, considering he may have been the first that I infected, and the last that I killed. I pulled him unceremoniously from the plastic, kicking the bag to the side and lifting Alex over to the grave. I looked from him in my arms, to the hole in the ground. He felt so heavy, and cold. Not like carrying a body. It felt like carrying, I don’t know… An empty box. A forgotten toy. Something left behind, empty, beyond use. I didn’t feel like crying because I didn’t feel like I was holding Alex kralie’s corpse. If I had been carrying his corpse, I would have felt the fire. He would have left behind some of his determination. Some hint of existence. Alex Kralie doesn’t leave the world stiff and cold. There’s just no way it would have happened like this.

Regardless, I set him down as carefully as possible into the grave. Once he was laying there, I looked at him again. Despite the blood still caked on his skin, he looked almost peaceful now, like he was sleeping. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alex look so calm. I hoped that meant he was at peace, and not that I was over sentimental.

I felt like I should say something. I had to say something, some sort of grand send off, something to show the lifeless thing before me that, even though we were never close, I had wanted him to have a successful life. And that I never wanted it to be this way. And the anger I felt towards him for his own hand in this mess. And that if i could have ended things differently, I would have without a second thought.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would convey what I needed him to understand, and yet, I felt like I had nothing to say to him.

“Regards.” Was all I could choke out. My eyes blurred. I picked up the shovel again, and started shoveling dirt over him. I watched every bit of it pour over him until he was completely out of sight, and then I started shoveling a little faster. He deserved my time, but there was still a lot to do, and the night was already getting old.

Once the grave was fully covered, I pressed down the dirt as firmly as I could. I knew that if I really wanted these graves to be hard to find, I should be burying dead animals over their bodies— it’d be harder for police dogs to sniff them out that way— but I couldn’t do that to them. They deserved better than that— they deserve better than this— but it’s all I can do, and I was confident enough that no one would find them. At least not until I was long gone— either in another state or dead.

I moved a few feet to the side, and started digging again.

It didn’t feel like it took as long this time, but it felt just as achingly tiring, if not more. I wasn’t sure I was going to have the energy to drive myself out of here by the time I was done with this. But I’d have too.

I opened up the second bag, and tried to pull Jay out without jostling him around too much— but it was just as awkward and ungraceful as it was with the director. Either way, I got Jay out of the bag and kicked the plastic to the side, just as I had before.

I lifted him up and held him before the grave. Just as the first corpse had, Jay felt empty and cold. But different from the man before him, Jay felt young. Despite the fact that I wasn’t much older than Jay, once I really got to know him, he’d started to feel like a younger brother to me. Naive, curious, too good at snooping for his own good. I had begun to feel like I was somewhat responsible for him, his well being and his actions. I wanted him to make it out of this safe, better than I had or would, but here I am. Holding an empty impression of the endearing man I once knew. I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t get him out of it. I couldn’t deter him from his search, and by the time I had made an impression on him, he was too deep in to pull himself out— even with my help and advice.

I needed to have something to say to him. I tried to come up with something as I set him into the grave, and when I stood back up, I took a deep breath.

“I… hope you don’t mind if I keep your hat,” I said softly, staring at him, both our faces worryingly blank. “Don’t get too mad, but I can’t keep your cameras. Or the tapes. There’s… too much on there. It’s not just for my sake, but Jessica’s too.” I looked at him. He didn’t look at me, his eyes were closed. This wasn’t good enough for him. For any of them. “Sleep well.”

I began covering him with dirt too. But I couldn’t look at him. I finished as quickly as possible and turned to the final spot.

At least this could be a much smaller grave. I dug up only a few feet of earth, and pulled the horrid frowny mask out of my bag. I scowled at it, but it made my chest ache as I did.

I tossed it gently into the “grave,” and as I thought about how I had failed to find my closest friend to bury him here, I finally felt myself start truly crying. The fabric just lay in the hole, mimicking my expression and almost begging for the bitter glare I sent at it.

“Brian, if you can hear me… I’ll see you at Lemon.” I said with a wavering chuckle, referencing an old inside joke we’d had. It brought more bittersweet tears to my eyes, remembering the last time I’d said that joke out loud. It had to have been years ago, now. “I’ll never forget you.” I said, with a weak grin.

Then I scowled at the mask again. “And whatever the hell you are… The Operator, ‘Hoodie,’ whoever— you better leave him the fuck alone. Forever.” I said as I kicked dirt over the mask, until it was out of my sight, hopefully for the rest of my life. I wanted to remember Brian by his real face. Not whatever this mockery was.

Finally done, I looked over the freshly finished graves. I wanted to stick around. Sit down and have a break. Think of something more meaningful to say to these people, my friends whose lives I ruined by just being around them. I needed more time with them. I couldn’t leave them so soon.

But the light shining through the trees told me the moon would be setting soon, and without the grueling task to focus on, I was beginning to become paranoid with all these trees surrounding me. I couldn’t stay here with them. I couldn’t see them, ever again. Not until I joined them. Which wouldn’t be for a long fucking time if I had anything to say about it. I couldn’t let The Operator win like that. Not after everything it took from me. From them.

I patted Jay's hat hooked to my belt loop. I pulled Alex's glasses from my duffle bag and slipped them in my pocket. I grabbed Brian's hoodie and carried it over my shoulder. When I got home, where that would be now, I'd put these somewhere safe. Somewhere I'd remember, so I would never forget everything that had happened. Everyone that I had lost.

I put all the grave digging supplies and trash bags back into my duffle bag, fully prepared to dispose of it as soon as physically possible. I carried it all back to my car, and though I wasn’t carrying as much as I was on the way in, my back still ached from all I had done tonight. When I reached my car, I shoved the bag into my trunk for the final time, and walked around the vehicle to reach the driver's side door. I opened it with a cachunk, and peered behind me into the woods one final time.

“Goodbye.”

I got in my car and drove away.

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