#tw: somewhat attempted rape

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

Female reader x Troy Otto after he "died" the reader was the one who stabbed him after he got to grabby you her she stabs with his knife and ran off she the only doctor so she valuable to the group he would also like his knife back. Maybe after a couple month he finds her and I would like some choking but anything would good

SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER!!! I hope you enjoy it.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader (third person for some reason cause that's what happened)

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Choking +Somewhat past possible attempt at r**e but he didn't didn't and he'd have stopped.

“Turns out being stabbed a second time hurts more than the first.”

“Good. I meant for it to hurt.” Her voice cut through the air like his knife did as it cut through his muscle. Her features showed no sign of surrender or fear, only sincerity in her words as the torch flame flickered their shadows on the cement walls. 

Troy raised both hands in surrender, his eyes glancing down to the same knife once stained with his own blood and back into her eyes. His shoulders tensed under his black jacket as her knuckles faded to a paler color gripping the handle of the sharp blade tighter. She had no reason to trust Troy after the last meeting the two had, yet, looking at the man out of his element and with no one around to make him feel taller than he already was, there was a certain chord he hit somewhere in her stomach. She didn’t feel that she was in danger, rather and oddly the opposite.

“Maybe it hurt a bit more because of who it came from.” He stood still as a tree, looking back to the woman through his eyelashes subconsciously. He was here on a mission to bring her back, but seeing her now and the life she’s had since that day months ago made a pit in his stomach open and swallow his heart whole. 

It had been 6 months give or take since she fled. Fled into the cold, rainy night unsure of what terrors where beyond the small compound. But she had to go, at least that’s what her body told her to do in the moment, there was no turning back. It took about a month for her to miss what she had. A roof over head, food and water, and most of al the protection that one Mister Otto provided. 

Ever since day 1 of finding the group, back when there was only a few of them, she could always feel something different with Troy than with any of the other men or women. He looked at her different. Talked to her different. He acted, well, gentler with her than anyone else even as the group grew to more than a few dozen. He told her on multiple occasions how they all needed her… how he needed her. 

He said that same thing the night everything changed. 

“You didn’t listen and forced my hand, Troy. Do you think I like starving out here on my own? I couldn’t come back and deal with any possibilities of YOU.” 

Ouch. Troy felt her words like a punch in the jugular. His eyes couldn’t hide the wince of pain he felt as his blue and white orbs fell to the ground at her boots astrown with holes. He thought back to that night, a night that has haunted him since. The look in her eyes when he felt the searing heat of his own blade slicing his flesh open. The apprehension that was once in her eyes now flickered with rage as she looked directly into his one good eye, pulling the blade back with force and bolting out the door, leaving his howls of pain and his own anger behind her. 

She left him alone. A nightmare he had only ever shared with her. 

“I know,” Troy’s entire expression fell like the edges of his lips. Her grip on the blade loosened as he continued. 

“I have regretted that night since, regretted what I tried to do and-” his eyes caught ahold of hers, both stomachs dropping at the same time before he continued. “-not listening to you. All those times that I told you that the group needed you, I wasn’t lying. They need you more than they need me so if that’s what it takes then-” 

“You’re going to leave for me to come back?” She cut Troy off mid sentence, shocking them both. The grin pulling at the ends of his lips to her question secured the answer both knew, but Troy was honestly questioning if he would do as he said for her. 

“Is that really what you want, darling?”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you call me that, Troy.”  His voice changed back to the Troy she knew, the Troy that made her so irritated and yet welcomed and needed. His little pet name she only ever heard him reserve for her. She hated how much she loved it, but now was not the time for his little mind games. 

“Look-” Troy lowered his hands, resting both comfortably on his hips with his head rolling back in a stretch before meeting her gaze again. “-I know where you’re at now so the option is to come back with me willingly now or I’ll carry you kicking and screaming and the walkers can pick us both off together then leaving the group without a doctor or a leader.” 

The look he gave was unfaultering even through his bluff. She knew Troy wouldn’t force her to accompany him if she didn’t want to, and looking around the small cement room she didn’t have many reasons to NOT want to go back. But she knew if she didn’t go now, he’d end up sending a large enough group to her coordinates that she’d have to leave. It was a decision of eating roadkill for another week or not, and the growing smirk on the brunette's face solidified the answer. 

“You’re not getting your knife back.” 

“Oh c’mon!” She returned the smirk, sliding the sharp, freezing blade into the back of her jeans whilst kicking dirt on the smoldering fire, dimming the light in the room to the single lantern behind the tall brunette. 

A pit in her stomach arose, looking back at the small dug out she called home for the last few months before carrying on behind the footsteps of Troy Otto.

Her nuisance.

Her monster.

Her torment.

Her protector.

And possibly, her savior.  

As night ran into day, both she and Troy’s speed wavered. His footsteps lagged with each step whilst her hands pulled her weight forward tree after tree, both too stubborn to say it was time for a rest. 

Suddenly, a low growl came from the ditch 5 feet from their left. One growl turned into 5 moans, turned into 10 grunts and so on. Both stopped in their steps, hearing the rumbling below the dirt embankment grow with each step they took. 

Sharing a glance, She pushed Troy’s shoulder towards the sound, egging him to go see what they are facing. 

Begrudgingly, Troy cautiously snuck to the edge of the embankment, peering over for a heartbeat or two before a few large footsteps brought him back to her. His hands resting on her upper arms, somehow soothing, while his eye searched the surroundings opposite from the sounds. 

“C’mon, this way,” Troy whispered into her ear before pulling one hand along behind his back. She didn’t pull away, didn’t even notice what he’d done until the cold recaptured her skin moments later. 

As the sun set on another night somehow still breathing, she watched as Troy set traps surrounding the small camp you both had made within only a few good minutes. He swore he would stay awake throughout the night, keeping watch, and yet he paced the perimeter around the small camp fire you’d made, placing leaves and anything that would alert to movement around. 

As he finally sat opposite of her, she couldn’t helo the smile that arose her lips. 

“What?” Troy asked, his cheeks heating from within. That look, the look he’d only ever felt from her made his stomach ache with a hunger he’d only felt a handful of times. He rose to his feet once more, turning to hide the flush he knew she’d be able to see on his skin. 

“Oh c’mon, Troy. Don’t be like that!” Her tone changed to playful and open, like she once was with  him. Glancing down at her shivering fingers, the realization set in. She hadn’t felt this way, hadn’t sounded like that, since she’d been in his company. And even then, it was only ever in HIS company. 

“Come sit. Please?” 

A large breath left Troy’s chest, battling his own heart and mind was something he was used to but having her here again made his whole body numb. He finally obliged, turning on a heel and padding his large footsteps ever softly on the dirt towards her. Looking around one more time for any signs of the deead, or worst any living, before taking a seat beside her. His nose once again thanking him for the fire light in the dense cold. 

“You saved my ass back there,” Her words were soft, sincere. “So thank you, I guess. If it was just me again I probably would have been toast.” 

“You would have been fine, I’m sure.” Troy played with the scar on the back of his left palm. His right thumb digging into the rough scales of skin, the heat she gave off next to him nearly matched that of the fires. It felt good, warm. Yet, he the uneasy feeling was unwavering. 

“You‘ve known that all this-” she gestured to their surroundings. “-This was never MY strong suit. I patch up the people that are good at this kind of thing. People like YOU.” 

She earned a chuckle from the brunette, his shoulders shaking slightly bringing his eyes back up to meet the fires dancing flames. 

“I suppose you always did do a pretty decent job at fixing me up.”

“DECENT?! Oh, I did a whole hell of a lot better than decent with the stitches in your bicep, or your calf, or your left, and don’t forget about the right pec. I bet you can’t even tell you ever were wounded.” 

“You didn’t do a very good job on my thigh-” Troy stopped after that one word. He shouldn’t have said it, he shouldn't have brought it up. Dead silence fell between the two, not even the crickets had the guts to make a sound. 

“I made sure to not hit your femoral vein if that’s any consolation.” Her voice was that of a mouse. So quiet that Troy wasn’t sure if he had merely imagined it. Until he glanced slowly in her direction, catching that look of shame she had only shown once or twice, making his frown shift. 

He wanted to give her a side eye, cautionary and intense, but he had decided to sit on her right which meant his side eye had to be a full look over for his good eye to catch the way she sucked in air through gritted teeth.

Smooth Troy, very smooth. 

He felt her weight shift a tad, looking over to see her body in a full shiver before trying to hide it again. He rolled his jacket off his broad shoulders, catching the back and draping the hefty coat around her. The look she gave him didn’t need words, as he gave a half smile and turned back towards the glowing flames. 

What seemed like hours had passed in silence, comfortable silence, before Troy felt her weight lean into his side. His head swiveled in her direction, his breath caught in his throat when he felt the closeness of their faces in the dimming light. 

She didn’t turn away this time when he gave into his impulse. His flesh melting with her own. He never fully understood how humans had the ability to somehow find their partner’s lips in the dark until that moment when everything seemed to click. 

Neither one was expecting this, rather the opposite. She was expecting to not live to see their group again and he’d figured she was going to end him with his own knife one night in his sleep. But as life has it, something in their fate changed. 

Feeling his warmth only inches from her, she caved. Pressing her weight into him in a full kiss, her eyes drifting closed taking in his lips, his scent, his touch. Both grasping for skin as they weaved their lips together, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip while his hands roamed her body.. 

A sudden pressure was released from her waste band. Cool air drifting over exposed skin as Troy’s lips curved against the pulse of her neck. His chest wavered with a deep chuckle as his head fell backwards with a toothy grin in a croak of laughter. 

“This is mine now,” Troy waved his knife in the air above the two, like a child finally getting back their favorite toy. “Well... again.”

Sitting back on her elbows, the woman shook her head slowly, unable to help the grin growing on her features. He was such a literal pain in the ass but when he was like this, when he wasn’t so serious and did that little giggle of his she couldn’t help but fall further down his rabbit hole. 

His eye caught hers again, shadows flickering in the movement of the flames at their feet as he curled one arm around her torso moving to hover over her form without ant loss of eye contact. He was afraid he’d see that fear in her irises again like the last time they were this close, but he caught submission, adoration, maybe some excitement instead. 

His body moved against hers, clothing against disheveled clothing causing friction against both their skin. She was sure he could feel the heat radiating through her body where his hips rolled against hers. His sweet moan filling her senses as his eye bore down on her. His eye grew dark, lustful, wanting more than just the friction of clothing. He wanted to warm her up in the cool dark night in more ways than just this. 

The small bite of her lip and a nod gave him all the leeway he needed. Not a second passed before his lips were suctioned back onto hers. His tongue forced its way through partially opened lips as his fingertips did the same to her waistband. She was in such a flurry she didn’t even realize where his hand had disappeared to until his lips traveled to her ear, whispering how wet she had become before a wave of heat ran up her spine, arching her back against his touch as his cold hand palmed her most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Choking on air, she breathed deeply into the skin exposed on Troy’s neck above her. Her fingernails gripped the jean jacket covering his shoulders as he nipped little bites down her neck and onto her chest. His movements faltered as he glanced up, catching sight of the woman clenching her eyes closed, teeth gritted on her bottom lip sure to cause blood. Something about that aroused Troy further, quickening his hand free from her jeans and making short work at removing the slightly damp piece of clothing. 

Staring down at her form, Troy felt his member twitch, longing to be free from it’s confines. She wore a simple pair of blue panties that caressed her just right, barely covering her modesty from what he could see in the dimming fire light. Her thighs twitched under his gaze, her meat looking as delicious as the shy giggle that escaped her swollen lips. 

His gaze shifted up her body, taking note of every cut and bruise that covered it before locking gaze with her again. Her eyes had darkened as his did as he shrugged his light jacket off, throwing it towards a tree to their left. His white T-shirt following suit. 

From where she lay, she could see the bulge in Troy’s pants shiver with every movement she made beneath him. Her foot nudged his ass whilst he removed his shirt earning a throaty groan from the brunette between her legs. She scanned his body in the shadows, her gaze stopping on the last wound she cured. A large scar on his abdomen still ever present as a wave of his cries of pain fled like a stream through her ears. 

Troy saw the way her eyes changed, knowing she was occupied elsewhere in that pretty little mind. Clearing his throat, he regained her attention only to give her a little show taking off his jeans. He forgot she hadn’t seen the scar she herself gave him until the moment her eyes once again fell. Her fingers reached out, pulling her to sit in front of him as she ghosted her fingertips over the scaled skin. 

She sure did a good job leaving her mark. 

Troy gave her a moment, but no longer than that before his fingertips caressed her chin. His callouses rubbed her soft, cold skin raising her attention to look him in the eye. The smirk she was met with sent another shiver down her spine, this time accompanied by a hefty gulp and a new warmth dripping from her core. 

One hand dipped lower, finding her folds with ease, applying just enough pressure to earn a whimper from her as his other hand draped around her neck. With a catch in her breath, her eyes shot open with a smirk feeling his fingertips close around delicate skin. 

Her own fingers traced harder over the scales on his thigh but eventually gave in to his touch, leaning backward until her back once again met the cold, hard dirt. Her hands dug small scrapes through the pine needles cushioning around her. Troy’s grip on her throat didn’t relent as his other hand delved one digit, now warmed between the two, into her glistening core. With every pulse that clenched down on his finger, his own member reciprocated. 

The cold air around them was a welcomed element. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist her much longer as he rubbed his clothed cock on her inner thigh. 

He wanted her to need him. 

He waited for her to need him. 

He needed her to need him. 

As his name dripped from her lips, Troy couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t waste time undressing any further as he pulled his underwear down just enough to release his begging cock before replacing his finger with a much larger fulfillment. 

He watched as her eyes clenched shut, a single tear running from one corner of her eye glistening from the shallowly dancing flames. His grip on her neck released at the feeling of her nails raking down his bicep. Her touch melded with the sweet smell of her arousal and gasps of breaths, his thrusts unrelenting. Filling her to the brim over and over. Watching her face contort in ecstasy whilst he sucked in his bottom lip to keep from silent. The only thing he couldn’t muffle were the grunts and groans that escaped him and the sound of bet skin meeting wet skin with such force and need that would make even a nun blush. 

Troy felt her begin to spasm in an eruption of an orgasm. 

It was in her breathing. It was in her nails grazing his skin. It was in the way her body contracted around his cock. It was in the way she whispered sweet-nothings only he will ever know as she bit down on his shoulder, surely leaving yet another one of her marks on his skin. 

He knew he needed to pull out, his own release matching hers. But the way she felt, how she looked, the way she smelled and sounded filled his senses and all Troy could think about was painting those glorious, tight walls of her with his seed. It was a dangerous game they were playing, he knew that. 

And still he did as he pleased. 

His body fell atop hers. All strength leaving him in his release as he collapsed above her, limp dick still within her walls feeling every pulse her body made. 

Everything was silent, the world seemed to disappear as the two soaked up each others heat as the sweat balls rolled off each others skin and into the earth below. 

When the sun began to rise, shining brilliantly through the fog lifting from the tree tops, the pair shared a look. 

“We should get going I suppose. One more day to camp, right?”

Troy nodded silently, a small grin returning to his swollen lips as he chewed his tongue slightly. “I’ve been used to sleepless nights, but this one took a bit more out of me so keep it slow.” 

The woman giggled hopping to her feet and extending an open hand down to Troy, both fully knowing if he took it he'd pull them both down.

“Who knew you’d be such a little chatter box after intimacy, Mr. Otto. The sleeplessness wasn’t fully my fault I do recall.” 

Troy leaned his head back against the tree where both were once propped up on, a toothy smile adorn on his tired and satisfied face. His chest heaving with a silent laugh before shoeing her hand away with a grunt to his feet.   

[your-friendly-sociopath]

Ok listen up, I'm bored and tired and have recently come to the realization that all time is fleeting and hazbin hotel has yet to release their first episode

So to cope, I've written more yandere alastor x reader cus I can

This one is romantic btw, set during alastor's life

Tw: Attempted Rape, murder, and gore

Part 2 here

His Darling Doe

Recently, a quaint little diner opened across the street from Alastor's radio station

It was quite convenient to him, not as out-of-the-way as his usual preferred spot

So he started going to the diner every morning for a cup of joe

You were rather new in town, and had been looking for a job after having just finished moving in

So you applied for a waitress position at the new diner, and got the job

Because you were new, you didn't recognize Alastor as a famous radio host

To you, he was just your average handsome fella

Rather coincidentally, Alastor would find himself at the same table every morning, which just so happened to be in your section

You introduced yourself to him, pencil hovering over your notebook as you prepared to take his order

Much to Alastor's surprise (and slight relief) you didn't fangirl over him immediately

In fact, you treated him like you did any other customer

It was refreshing

Alastor ordered his coffee, while also sizing you up

You came very close to being his next victim

Not because he didn't like you

On contrary you amused him

Always having a snarky reply to his sarcastic remarks

He'd compliment you, and you'd compliment him back

He ended up spending and hour longer at the diner then he should've chatting with you

Reluctantly he told you he had to go, but promised to see you again soon

He was sure to tip you on his way out

Later that night as Alastor was closing up the station he started thinking about you

You had perplexed him

You were one of the few humans that he found entertaining

At least, one of the few humans that didn't need to be brutally murdered in order to find entertaining

He had found himself entranced when speaking with you earlier, he just knew he needed more

So after that night he would always show up early at the diner, hours before his shift at the radio station, and simply talk with you

At first you had been weirded out by his constant presence each morning

But over time you grew to look forward to your meetings

You even developed a crush on him

Now, having lived in new Orleans long enough, you obviously new of it's infamous serial killer

Most of everything you knew came from Alastor's talk show

During one of your early morning meet ups with Alastor, you confessed your deep fear of the killer to him, while also expressing concern for both of y'all's safety

Alastor found this to be very endearing and somewhat amusing (though he didn't let the latter show)

He claimed immediately after you spoke that he would do everything in his power to keep you out of harms way

So after that Alastor would walk you home from your job every night

However one night Alastor got held up at the station, leaving you to walk home, alone

You had walked home by yourself plenty of times before, but tonight was different

As you left the diner you felt a strange sense of foreboding

While walking home you felt grimy old hand roughly grab you wrist and yank you into the alleyway

You opened you mouth to call for help, but before you could make a noise your assailant smashed his lips into yours

You thrashed in his grip and were able to get your mouth free of his

Before you could continue to fight back you heard a zipping sound and realized with dread what this man intended

However, before he could get any further something crashed into him and pinned him to the ground

Immediately you scrambled a few feet away, eyes wide as you realized just who had saved you

Alastor pinned the old man to the ground and ruthlessly stabbed the man over and over, until the walls were covered in scarlet

Quickly, you shuffled backwards, still on the ground, in an attempt to get away

Unfortunately for you, Alastor heard you and snapped his head in your direction, maniacal grin now etched in his face

He kept towards you and pinned you to the ground, similarly to how he had pinned your now dead assailant

You closed your eyes tightly, and flinched away when you felt his hot breath on your neck

You had gotten a glimpse of the body lying a few feet away from you, and had quickly realized that Alastor was the very killer you were so scared of

You were expecting the sharp and painful feeling of a knife being plunged in your chest

So when you instead felt soft kisses along you collar bone, you couldn't help but involuntarily flinch

You felt Alastor pause his gentle touched, as he climbed off of you and pulled you into his lap on the floor

"My darling Doe, are you alright?"

You heard him ask gently

To scared to talk, you managed only a stiff nod

You heard a soft chuckle come from him, as he stood up and carried you bridal style out of the alley, and towards the bayou

You felt the cool night air hit you, and shivered

You could feel your shock slowly wearing off, yet couldn't stop trembling, knowing that you were in the arms of a killer

Alastor felt you trembling in his arms, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your soft hair

"I have you, you're safe now, my dear,"

You heard him whisper into your hair

Eventually you reached a cabin deep within the swamp

Alastor kicked the door open and carried you upstairs into his bedroom

He gently put you down on the bed, before kissing your forehead and leaving, being sure to lock the door behind him

Once you were alone you curled up on the corner of the bed, and cried

You don't know what exactly about, all you knew was that your head was to full of emotion and shock to think clearly

So you cried yourself to sleep

When you woke up you were in the same bed, but in a clean sleeping gown

With Alastor curled up around you

At first you simply nuzzled closer, feeling Alastor tighten his arms around you

Then you noticed the blood stain on his sleeve, and suddenly all your memories of the previous night came crashing back

You jumped out of the bed and ran to the door, yanking on the doorknob, only to find it locked

Suddenly, you felt a warm, broad chest press against your back, and strong arms around your waist

A few months ago you'd've been delighted to be in this situation

Now though, you were petrified

"Wherever do you think your going, my darling Doe?"

You heard Alastor say softly behind you

"You're home now, safe and sound with me. Where you belong~"

Love me some unhinged Alastor

Might do part two, idk yet

[karatekels]

A request with KK3 Terry please and make it as dark/non-con as possible! But OFC always make changes if you have to cause I’d enjoy it no matter what.

I thought of Daniel who warns reader to not go see Terry again cause he actually caught on that she likes him. (I thought this happens right after the events where Miyagi fought Terry & Kreese). She’s shocked to hear about it since she did come to trust Terry and even look up to him. But she listens to her friend (at first). I thought that later she’d get into a dangerous situation at night close by the dojo where a group of men follow her and her first instinct is to go to the dojo in hope of Terry, even after Daniel’s warning. She’s obviously scared and is already imagining the worst things in her head. Thankfully Terry’s there to save her in the last moment and even offers to take care of her since she seems so shaken by it. What she didn’t expect is that it’ll get only worse with him and he expects some kind of “reward” from her for always treating her so nicely, even “going out of his way” to save her, and simply bc he’s had enough of waiting 👀 Make sure to make him cruel enough when he forces himself on her and that he even says smth like “Maybe you should’ve listened to Danny-boy.” (implying that he was there, hiding & watching when Daniel informed her about it). She gives in partway. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance anyway. Also make him throw some comments at her maybe about how pathetic she is, but that he still wants her and only her and she’ll always be his (or whatever else comes to ur mind). And that even when she enjoyed it by the end, she still feels dirty and used. Somewhat empty even and heartbroken. Your goal: Make me cry a bit for her okay

We are starting out the month living up to the title of Dark Desires October with this one! Today also marks the 1 year anniversary of this blog, so HOORAY!

This will be in two parts, and the actual non-con will happen in the next part (though there is attempted sexual assault in this chapter as well). If that’s not something you want to read, I would recommend sitting this one out!

For the rest of you degenerates who are still here… I hope you enjoy.

TW: attempted assault; assault; attempted sexual assault; attempted rape; violence; will lead to non-con in part 2

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Unjust Reward: Chapter 1

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At 10:02 in the morning, an insistent knocking starts at your front door. You giggle quietly, calmly finishing putting your shoes on. Your neighbour and friend (it was weird, calling a 17 year-old a friend when you were in your early twenties, but it was true), Daniel LaRusso, had called late last night, leaving a message on your answering machine. He had sounded panicked, saying that he needed to talk to you as soon as possible and would be coming over in the morning. Calling and leaving your own message, you had amended that to 10AM today.

It wasn’t that you weren’t taking whatever Danny was worried about seriously, but the kid had a tendency to be overdramatic and blow things out of proportion. You weren’t sure if it was a guy thing, a kid thing, or a karate thing, but Daniel always seemed to be on edge about some situation or another.

Grabbing your bag and your sunglasses, you head for the front door, opening it suddenly and catching Daniel’s fist half-raised in the air. You see the cuts and bruising on his knuckles, and hope that they weren’t from pounding on the door. He had been training very intensely with Terry Silver, a new sensei that had come to the Valley a couple of weeks ago, so it was probably from that.

Sensei Terry Silver…

You were kind of crazy about him.

He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome; nearly six and a half feet tall and strong, with long black hair and bright blue eyes. He had a wicked smile and positively oozed charm, to the point that you were frequently tongue-tied in his presence. Terry was very hands-on with his training, based on what you’d seen when you’d come by the dojo to meet Daniel after a training session. You’d found yourself jealous of the boy on more than one occasion, watching Terry’s hands adjust his hips and help him stretch.

“Calm down, Danny! Where’s the fire?” you joke, looking at him with a smile that he doesn’t return. Instead, he grabs your wrist, urgently tugging you towards him.

“Come on, Y/N – we need to talk, it’s important!” he hisses, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Should we go inside?” you ask, holding your front door ajar, but he shakes his head.

“No, we gotta find somewhere he doesn’t know about; he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Who does?” He just shakes his head, refusing to answer you, and you’re starting to get really worried about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You close and lock the door, letting him drag you down the street by the arm. You don’t see how anywhere outside could be more private than your own home, especially seeing as he was likely drawing attention by tugging at your wrist like this, but you knew how difficult it was to talk Daniel out of something when he had set his mind to it.

After a few blocks, you head into a local park, finding an unoccupied bench in a clearing. He gestures for you to sit but doesn’t join you on the bench, instead pacing back and forth in front of you and looking around intently.

“Okay, we should be safe to talk here; we can see if anyone tries to listen in.”

“Daniel, what is going on?” you demand, mildly frustrated by all of the theatrics but mostly concerned about what the source of his panic was.

“It’s Mr. Silver.”

“Is something wrong with Terry? Is he hurt?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought. Terry was big, and strong, and a professional martial artist; if something had hurt him, then it was definitely something to be feared. But Daniel shakes his head.

“No, he’s not hurt; he’s the problem. He’s dangerous!”

“Danny, he’s helping you train for the tournament. Was he just being hard on you?” you ask soothingly, feeling relieved. This was closer to what you had anticipated: Daniel blowing something out of proportion.

“No, listen!” he cries, though he’s trying to keep his voice down. He sounds like that dangerous mix of angry and scared that caused men to be unpredictable, and it has you nervous. “Y/N, I… I can tell that you like Mr. Silver a lot,” he says knowingly, and you blush, feeling like you were being told about ‘the birds and the bees’ by a kid. Had you been that obvious about your feelings for Terry?

“Please don’t go see him again. He’s not good for you; he’s not good for anyone. Listen…”

Daniel’s eyes are wide and scared, and you feel yourself shiver as he describes what had happened at the Cobra Kai dojo last night. Terry had made up everything; Kreese dying, being a down-on-his-luck sensei, wanting to train Danny so he could protect himself… The whole thing had been a nest of lies, part of a plan to get revenge on a teenager for winning a karate tournament.

It was ridiculous; it was insane. It was unbelievable… wasn’t it?

You think back to your own experiences with Terry. You’d been completely speechless the first time he’d come over and spoken to you while Daniel had been changing into his regular clothes. He had looked at you with such intensity, even if he had given you a charming smile the whole time. You’d tried to make small talk with him, and despite how awkward you felt around him, something about him kept drawing you in day after day. It was like you were addicted to the discomfort, the nervousness that you felt around him. He was like one of those Venus flytraps; he looked dangerous, but was still so alluring that prey found itself coming closer anyway, until the trap snapped shut.

As much as you didn’t want to believe it, you could see Terry as someone dangerous, hiding beneath a façade. And, if Mr. Miyagi had fought him, then this wasn’t just Daniel being overdramatic. This was serious.

Your heart clenches once, painfully; you didn’t really know Terry that well, sure. But you had really wanted to. It was like saying goodbye to a relationship that had never really begun, and as this had been the first time you had really felt strongly for someone as an adult, it hurt all the more.

But you had no reason to not believe Daniel’s words, and you would not be a fly caught in a trap.

“Danny, I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry he hurt you, and I’m sorry I didn’t see him for what he was. I’m so glad that you’re alright,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. Daniel was such a small kid, and Terry was a big guy – if he had wanted to, he could’ve really hurt the boy, or worse.

“Please tell me you won’t go see him again,” he begs, and you can hear the fear in his voice. Poor kid; this had really done a number on him.

“I won’t, Danny. I promise. But there’s still something I don’t understand: why couldn’t you have told me this in my apartment?”

“Oh. That.” Daniel says morosely, pulling out a few pages of a magazine out of his jeans pocket and handing them to you.

Smoothing them out, you see that the man being written about in the article is… Terry. But, instead of the humble, down-to-earth man you’d come to (sort-of) know, he was photographed in expensive-looking suits and (in your opinion) gaudy jewelry.

“He’s not some broke guy; he’s a billionaire. And Mike Barnes? Snake, and Dennis? He’s working with them; actually, they’re working for him.”

“He hired a bunch of teenaged goons to attack you?! You and Jessica?!” you shriek, glad that the girl had gone home to Ohio. What kind of monster paid people to harass children?!

“He’s got people everywhere, and he’s a good liar, and he’s a war vet, like Kreese was… is.” Clearly, that man’s death being a hoax was taking some time for the boy to adjust to in his head. “My uncle told me that guys that fought in Vietnam, a lot of them are… messed up.”

You nod sharply, pressing your mouth into a thin line. Terry was dangerous in many ways: a martial artist, a large man, a billionaire with infinite resources… mix in PTSD from the War and he had the potential to be a real monster. You shudder again.

“You’re right, Daniel. We should both stay away from him.”

Daniel’s head snaps up as the sound of a branch snapping comes from the treeline. Before you can reach out to stop him, he sprints towards the source of the noise with a yell, tearing through trees as if he expects Terry or one of his goons to be hiding among the leaves.

“Daniel, stop!” you cry out, quickly moving over to him and dragging him away from the trees. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you lock eyes with him. “There’s no one there, okay? And this is a park, in the middle of the day; no one is going to hurt us here.”

His chest is heaving as he tries to take deep, calming breaths, but he’s still very much on edge. Eventually, his shoulders slump, and you feel like you can let him go without him charging off to fight something.

“Listen to me, Daniel. Terry is probably very dangerous; you’re right about that. He isn’t someone that you can fight against and win. And I’m not saying that because you’re not a great fighter,” you say when he opens his mouth to protest, “I’m saying it because he isn’t going to play by the rules. You could get hurt, or worse. You have to promise me you’ll stay away from him, and keep yourself safe.”

“B-But, what if he –” he stutters, and you interrupt him, knowing just how to nip his desire to play hero in the bud.

“He might not stop at you, Daniel,” you point out, clenching your hands into fists to keep your body from trembling at the thought. “He could go after Mr. Miyagi, or me, or anyone. Best to not let him get to you; he’s like a ticking time bomb, and we don’t know what could set him off. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble; stay with Mr. Miyagi as often as you can. I’m sure he’ll ease up after the tournament.”

Daniel’s forehead creases, and there’s a stubborn look in his eye, but he relents after a moment.

“Okay, fine. And you’ll stay safe too, right?”

“Yes, Danny – I promise. I won’t go near him or that dojo again.”

Daniel lets out a sigh of relief, and insists on accompanying you to the grocery store on your walk home.

“Daniel, you may be taking this a bit too far,” you tease as he helps you carry your things.

“Gotta keep you safe,” he huffs, having insisted on taking the heavier items.

“If anything, this is making me less safe, Daniel. After all, I’m not the karate champion; he’s not after me! You're just putting a target on my back,” you joke, but the boy seems insistent on taking this very seriously. You suppose that that’s better than the alternative.

He walks you to your door, ignoring your protests.

“Thank you, Daniel.” You’re grateful for the help, and the concern, but you had never been someone who liked relying on the support of others. “Now, please don’t do anything silly like risk yourself trying to stand guard, alright? I’m going to be fine.” You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Fine, fine. I’ll give you a call tonight though, alright?” Daniel insists, and you agree, parting ways for the day as you seal yourself in your apartment.

---

You spend the afternoon cleaning the apartment and watching TV, trying not to dwell on what Daniel had told you. You make sure to double-check that every window is locked as you move from room to room, cleaning thoroughly; it was a good way to work off all of this nervous energy.

The fact that Daniel didn’t think you were safe to talk in your own apartment has you on edge. Terry didn’t know where you lived – even if Daniel had told him you used to be neighbours in the now-demolished apartment building, he shouldn’t know where you lived now. And even if he did, it’s not like he could get inside… right?

By the time you’ve eaten dinner and done the dishes, you’re feeling more comfortable in your home again, and decide to relax further by running yourself a nice bath. You sink into the hot water and bubbles, letting the tension from the day escape you, closing your eyes…

The phone rings from the other room, startling you. You glare through the doorway at the offending noise. Daniel had said he was going to call you, but surely you could just call him back when you were out of the bath.

You decide to let the phone ring out, and hear your voice on the answering machine, telling the caller to leave a message after the ‘beep.’ The machine beeps, and there’s silence for a long moment.

“Hello, Y/N.”

The bath water suddenly feels ice cold. That wasn’t Danny.

“It’s Terry Silver.”

He didn’t need to introduce himself; you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“You haven’t come by the dojo in a few days; I’ve missed seeing that pretty face. You know that we have a lot to talk about, and we should. You know where to find me.”

The message ends there, and you curl into a ball in the tub, resting your forehead on your knees as you force yourself to take deep, steady breaths. Your body is covered in goosebumps, though the water is still steaming.

Why was Terry calling you? Why was he acting like everything was fine? If you two had a lot to talk about, then he had assumed that Daniel had told you what he’d done, and should know that you wouldn’t want to talk to him about it. So was he just calling to scare you?

Taking a deep breath, you force your body to move, pulling the stopper out of the drain and standing up; there was no way you’d be able to enjoy the bath now. You dry off and head to your bedroom, rooting around your dresser for your winter pyjamas – you were freezing, despite the hot bath and it being the middle of the summer. Maybe some tea would help…

You walk into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. Selecting a sleepy time teabag from your collection, you open the cupboard and grab a mug, moving back to the stove.

The phone rings again and you yelp, dropping your cup on the floor where it shatters. Ignoring the mess for the moment, you reach over and move the kettle off the element before gingerly hopping onto the counter, not wanting to get glass on your bare feet. Sitting next to the phone now, you find that you can’t move away from it as it continues to ring. Would it be him again?

The machine plays your voice again, the beep sounding ominous. You hold your breath, your gaze locked on the answering machine.

“Y/N?! Are you –”

You scramble to pick up the phone, feeling overwhelmed with relief.

“Hey Danny! Yes, I’m fine,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you pick up?” he demands, clearly worried that you’re not taking this seriously enough.

“I wanted to make sure it was you first, and not Terry calling.” Well, that was true, at least…

“Oh. That’s… that’s a really smart idea,” Daniel says, sounding appeased. “So, everything was normal today?”

“Yeah, I guess, all things considered…” You would not be telling him about Terry calling; it was exactly the type of thing that would have him camping out outside your front door, determined to protect you.

“And everything is alright with you and Mr. Miyagi? No goons ruining the shop or stealing the bonsais?”

“Yeah, nothing happened today. But we can’t let our guard down!”

You hum in agreement; you don’t think you’ll be letting your guard down any time soon.

You agree to check in with Daniel regularly over the next few days; there was only a week or so before the tournament, and hopefully all of this would blow over after that.

You sleep fitfully with the bedroom light on, though you’re not sure how exactly this makes you feel safer.

***

You’re on your way home from work a few days later, hopping off the bus at the stop closest to your house. It was late, and the streets were pretty much deserted in Reseda at this time of night. Your car was in the shop, and you forgot how much longer it took to get home by bus. But it was only a twenty minute walk or so to your apartment, so you aren’t worried.

That is, you weren’t worried until five minutes or so into your trek home.

A low whistle comes from behind you, and you jump, turning to look back even though you know you shouldn’t. A group of four men are following you, maybe fifty feet away. They’d been very quiet up to this point, but now that you’ve spotted them they are getting more rowdy, laughing and shoving each other.

“Look at that; she stopped when you whistled! What a well-trained, pretty little thing,” one of them comments, pitching his voice to carry over to you.

You turn back around, picking up your pace as quickly as you can without breaking into a run, scanning the area for a sign of someone else nearby who might be able to help. You hear the men laugh behind you, and they sound a lot closer.

“Where are you going, beautiful?”

“Why don’t you come have a drink with us; we’ll show you a good time!”

You come up to an intersection, and still, no one else is around. You have a decision to make. It was eight blocks to Daniel and Mr. Miyagi, six blocks to your apartment or… three blocks to the Cobra Kai dojo.

You veer right, sprinting down the street towards the dojo, tears blurring your vision, your heart racing as your feet pound the pavement; you hear one of them shout and can hear them coming after you. Even if Terry hated Daniel, even if he hated you, there was no way he was enough of a monster to stand by and let these men attack you. Please, let him still be there…

You’ve made it two blocks, but you can hear them getting closer, and even with the adrenaline pumping through you, you’re quickly starting to get tired, your breath burning in your throat. You try to push yourself further, you’re almost there… and you roll your ankle, making you stumble to the ground with a yelp.

You make to scramble to your feet, the skin on your palms and your knees burning as the night air hits the fresh scrapes, but quickly find yourself surrounded by the men.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself?” one asks mockingly, smirking down at you.

“Come with me, baby. I’ll take real good care of you,” leers another, making to grab your arm.

“Stay away from me,” you say weakly, your voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. It feels like your throat is closing up; you can’t scream, you can barely breathe.

One comes behind you, forcing his hands underneath your arms to pull you to your feet, and something about him touching you sets you off. You kick back with your leg, hitting him in the knee, making him let go of you; you send an elbow into his stomach and he lets out a pained grunt.

You move to run again – you were only a few doors away from the dojo – but a hand fists in your hair and shoves you over to a slab of raised concrete that housed a few plants. The hand at the back of your head pushes you down, bending you over the concrete, and you hit your head hard on the rough concrete, right on your browbone above one of your eyes and making you cry out with pain.

You’re pulled up by your hair again with a whimper, the man holding you pressing himself against your back.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous – did I hurt you?” he asks, his tone patronizing. “Here, let’s give that pretty little head of yours a softer spot to rest.”

He bends you over the concrete again, this time pushing you face first in the dirt. The men howl and jeer at your position, goading the other man as he holds both your wrists behind your back in his free hand. He grinds his hips against your butt, and you realize with a sickening feeling that he’s hard.

“Please, please don’t!” you beg, trying to make yourself heard as your voice is muffled by the dirt.

“Let me at her first,” growls a man from the side. “The little bitch deserves what’s coming to her for attacking me.”

Your pleas are completely drowned out as the men start to argue, closing in on you as you’re pinned down, their hands grabbing at your clothes. You can’t see, you can’t move, and your heart is thudding so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear.

And then one of them screams.

You’re paralyzed with fear, even as the man holding you down releases you, and you hear the sounds of fighting all around you as you slowly manage to push yourself off the dirt, curling into a ball on the ground. You know you should run away, but you just can’t.

After what seems like forever, you hear footsteps approaching you in the now silent night. Burying your face further in your knees, your whole body trembles.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name startles you enough to look up, and your eyes meet the familiar blue of Terry’s. Even crouched down on the ground next to you, you still have to crane your neck to look up at him. You breathe a sigh of relief; your intuition had been right. Terry had saved you.

“T-Terry?” you stammer, quickly moving from feeling numb to feeling very overwhelmed. “Oh G-God, Terry! They… they…” Your face crumples as you let out an anguished sob, curling up into a ball again and hiding your face.

You feel his large, warm hand touch your upper arm, trying to offer you comfort without startling you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” he murmurs soothingly. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got a first-aid kit, I’ll help patch you up. That’s quite a gash on your forehead.”

You whimper, but force yourself to nod, and he gently helps you to your feet. Looking around, you see two of the men collapsed on the sidewalk, the other two nowhere to be found. Still, the sight of them has you trembling so hard you’re worried you’ll fall over.

“Ssshh, it’s alright. They can’t hurt you anymore. Can you walk?”

You bob your head jerkily and move to walk the short distance to the dojo, but you stumble almost immediately. Before you even come close to hitting the ground, Terry has caught you, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you bridal style over to Cobra Kai. He doesn’t put you down once you reach the front door, merely shifting you so that he has a free hand to open the door and taking you inside.

Walking past the large training area, Terry takes you to a back office, somewhere you’ve never been before. He sets you down on a cot – you knew that he had stayed somewhat regularly in the dojo, or at least, that’s what he’d told you – and orders you to stay put, leaving you alone in the room.

You sit up, leaning against the wall, trying not to cry. This has put you in a very awkward and potentially dangerous situation; just because Terry had saved you from a terrible fate didn’t mean that everything you now knew about him stopped being true. He was still unpredictable, unstable, violent… and possibly very upset with you.

You had to get out of there.

Before you even manage to climb off the bed, Terry is back, looming in the doorway with an armful of things. You freeze, and he comes around to the side of the cot, kneeling in front of you.

“I locked the doors, just to be safe. No one can get in here, I promise,” he reassures you in a soothing voice as he looks through the first-aid kit. You feel yourself start to relax despite your better judgement. Looking at the ground, you see that in addition to the first-aid kit he’s brought over the top of a karate gi, an empty bowl, a bottle of water, and a small towel.

“What’s all that for?” you ask quietly, your voice cracking as you speak. Terry looks up at your face before following your gaze to the objects on the floor.

“You have dirt all over your face; I want to make sure to clean you up so that your cut doesn’t get infected,” he replies calmly, filling the bowl with the water and dipping the towel to get it damp. “And the gi is for you; I thought you might be cold, especially if you go into shock.”

He picks it up, tossing it around your shoulders and loosely tying it at your waist. You slip your arms into the sleeves; it’s far too large for you, and as you take in a deep breath you notice that it smells like Terry. This must be one of his. Despite your better judgement, the scent has you relaxing slightly.

“It looks good on you,” he comments with a comforting smile, and you feel yourself blush. You force yourself to remember what Daniel had told you; you can’t let your guard down around him.

He lifts the damp towel to your face, and your eyes flutter closed as he wipes the dirt and blood away. The cloth presses against your cut and you let out a whimper that makes Terry murmur an apology. He was being so gentle with you.

Once he’s finished with the towel, you open your eyes, and his face is much closer to yours than you had anticipated it being. He takes your chin in his hand, staring at your face intently, and your whole body is rigid with tension.

“I don’t think you need stitches,” he informs you quietly after a moment. “A bandage will be fine. I’ll need to disinfect it, and that will probably hurt a bit, okay?”

You hesitate, again finding it difficult to speak, but eventually give him a nod.

“Lay down.”

“What? Why?” you ask, leaning away from him as you start to panic. He shushes you again, but it’s less comforting than the last time he did it.

“I don’t want the disinfectant getting in your eye is all,” he coos, his hands gentle but firm as he guides your body to the side and lays you on your back on the bed. You force yourself to take deep breaths.

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter the apology, hoping you haven’t offended him for some reason.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction,” he murmurs, rifling through the first-aid kit. “You just had a traumatic experience, after all,” he adds after a moment. “Okay, this is gonna sting. Do you want to squeeze my hand?” he asks, offering it to you.

You set your mouth in a firm line, your body tense in anticipation of the pain, and grab fistfuls of the blanket beneath you in both hands. Terry doesn’t seem at all bothered by your rejection, leaning over you and applying the cold gel to your wound. It stings terribly, and you bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut and trying not to make a noise.

You force your eyes open after a long moment of silence, and see that Terry’s eyes are still on your face, watching your reaction with an intense expression. Something in your belly clenches.

He looks away, choosing a bandage and applying it over your eye, though you think he presses down on it more firmly than necessary.

“There,” he says softly, surveying his work; he’s still holding your head in his hands. “All better.”

He’s doing it again – using that weird, magnetic pull he has to draw you in, make you feel… well, definitely not safe, but like you want to stay on this dangerous precipice with him.

“Thank you,” you say, speaking more loudly than necessary as you move to climb off the bed, intentionally disrupting the intimate atmosphere. You had to get away from him before he sunk his claws into you; in some ways, he felt more dangerous than the men he had saved you from.

“Y/N, wait,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder and keeping you in place.

“I have to get home, I–”

“I’ve missed you.”

You freeze at his words, staring straight ahead at his chest.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You force yourself to breathe again – when did it get so difficult?

“You know why,” you whisper after a long moment, still refusing to look at him. Suddenly, the gi top that had just felt so warm and comforting feels like a straightjacket, and your fingers move to untie it and take it off. You feel his gaze track the motion, but he doesn’t stop you.

“I haven’t done anything to you, Y/N.”

“You’ve been lying to me ever since I met you, Terry!” you snap, your wariness disappearing for a moment.

“I have not,” he growls, setting off alarm bells in your head. “I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never hurt you. I just saved your ass, for fuck’s sake!”

“What about Danny? What about Mike and Snake and–”

Terry’s hand covers your mouth suddenly. You fall silent as a jolt of desire like electricity courses through you. You hate the feeling with every fibre of your being.

“I never lied to him either, and I certainly never hurt him. He just didn’t bother asking the right questions.”

“You’re trying to get out of this on a technicality?” you say once you’ve pried his hand off of your face. He shrugs, an amused smile twisting his lips.

“I’m very good at what I do, Y/N. I have my reasons to make sure LaRusso loses the tournament, and I feel very justified in the training methods I’ve used. I don’t see what any of that has to do with you, though.”

“You’re messing with a kid!”

“Please. He’s practically an adult, and he’s certainly old enough to face the consequences of his actions. But be honest – that’s not why you’re scared of me, sweetheart. What’s the real problem you have with me?”

You’re quiet, biting your lip as you contemplate how to begin to answer his question.

“I know what it is,” he croons, his voice almost musical as he stands over you, moving to brace himself with his hands on either side of you. You lean back as his face gets dangerously close to yours. “You’re scared of what you feel when you look at me, isn’t that right? Scared of what you know you want, thinking about me as you lay awake at night?”

Your heart is beating in your throat, your face heating up.

“I… No, I…”

“Ssshhh,” Terry whispers, closing the distance between your faces once more. You can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. “It’s okay that you’re scared, babygirl. Let me show you what you really want…”

Cradling your head in his hands gently, he pulls you close, kissing you with a passion and a bruising force that is anything but gentle. You brain seems to short-circuit from the intensity of the kiss, and for a brief moment you’re kissing him back; the desire overwhelming you as he stokes it into a burning flame with his lips and tongue. You force yourself to fight through the dizziness, your head spinning.

“Mmhn… Terry… NO!” you say firmly, shoving him in the chest. He moves back a couple of steps, his head cocked as he looks down at you. The moonlight streams in from the window behind him, his eyes glinting brightly at you. He doesn’t seem upset with you.

He also doesn’t seem deterred.

“Don’t fight this, doll. I’ve seen the way you look at me; I know you want it,” he purrs in a husky voice, smirking at you as he slowly approaches the bed once more.

He couldn’t do this… He wouldn’t do this… He had just saved you from those men trying to do this exact thing!

“No, Terry,” you insist, climbing off the side of the bed, your eyes fixed on him. “I don’t want this. Please stay away from me,” you beg, backing through the doorway. The last thing you see is his mouth twisting into a predatory grin that makes you turn and run.

Scrambling, you make your way to the front of the dojo and go to tug the door open.

It doesn’t budge.

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” you hear Terry sing menacingly from the office; the sound of it sends shivers down your spine. He laughs maniacally, like a hyena, before appearing in the doorway, calm as can be. “Double-sided locking system; I thought we might be needing it.”

A sense of dread roots you to the spot, and you feel your teeth chattering.

“You… you planned this?” you say, your voice barely more than a high-pitched whisper, but the sound carries through the silence of the dojo.

“I have far more than just Barnes, Dennis and Snake at my disposal,” he says, giving you a cruel smile. “Those guys were more than happy to go after you for free; I mostly paid them to let me kick their asses without them bitching about it or giving me away.”

“Why?!” you ask frustratedly. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that if Terry had wanted to get you here, he could have done so himself, without needing to stage an attack. This was madness.

“I wanted to see if you’d come to me for help, even knowing what Danny-Boy told you. And you did!” he says, sounding delighted, like he’s praising a child for picking up their toys. He slowly approaches you, and you try to maintain the distance between you, but it’s no use. He’s bigger, he knows what he’s doing, and you’re terrified.

“Guess you shoulda listened to Danny-Boy, huh?”

---

Part 2

[little-lee-froggie]

So, I just woke up to this in my inbox

(tw, the anon mentions rape and suicide)

So yeah, what the fuck.

I’m sorry if it’s weird to make a post about this just because of one hate message, but I’m not going to let anyone talk to me like that. I’m mostly doing this because of the fact that my post where I said I had made attempts is now pretty far down in my post history because I’ve been somewhat active the past few days, and I just got this message this morning. So either this person scrolled through all my posts just to find one they could use to try and trigger me, or they scroll on the vent tag and will just send people messages like this. Also, a person was tagged, which means either I know exactly who did this, or someone is being framed for saying something like this to me.

(Edit: after talking to the person tagged, they were in fact framed. Please don’t be mad at them, they are a victim in this situation, being framed for things they didn’t do. This anon is the bad guy, the person tagged did nothing wrong, and in the small amount of conversation I had with them, the seem very kind)

If this person just scrolls through the vent tag, people need to be aware that there is someone doing this. Venting on the internet is what keeps some people alive, they don’t have anywhere else to go to. Some people need to vent, and the fact that someone might be trying to use that against us is absolutely disgusting, and if this is the case, people need to know for their own safety.

Who ever did this, I’m not going to sugar coat this, you fucking disgust me. You know nothing about me so you have no right to comment on what I deserve, nor does anyone deserve to be rapped. No one has any right to misgender me or anyone else. You may think you know who I am because you read one vent post by me, but you don’t. You don’t know who I am, and you don’t know me. I can’t be sure that the person they tagged is really them, because if they wanted to say who they were, they would have just not used anon, so I’m hesitant to report the person they tagged, but if anyone knows how to check if it was actually that person, that would be great. But yeah, whoever did this, you have no right to misgender me and say such gross things. You likely are looking for attention, I understand that, attention is important, but saying something like this to a person is not justifiable. You can’t do that. I’m pretty numb to most things, so I’m not personally triggered by this, but someone might be. In the event someone were to actually kill themselves because of an anonymous message you sent, that’s your fault. A person would be dead because of you. Do you understand how fucking terrible that is? Someone could die.

I am going to go have a conversation with the person tagged. I understand that if they were the person who actually sent it that this could just result getting told more things like this, but if they are being framed, they deserve to know. But yeah, that anon has been blocked and I’m going to be turning off anon for a little while

[eri-pl]

Inspired by the previous post, a way to make Celegorm in B&L more coherent.

I posted a "good Celegorm" version some time ago, now a version where he's bad but not so out of the blue. TW discussion of rape attempt (motivations, not details) below cut:

So, lust... Celegorm had never before been shown to be lusty. Elves are in general not very lusty (per LaCE), I would assume being a doomed kinslayer doesn't automatically change that. And being a hunter... While there is some cultural association there in general, I'd say not for him.

This guy hunted with Orome and while I'm not a great fan of Orome (anger issues etc), his hunt definitely didn't cultivate anything even adjustment to rape culture. There only one Vala who would be ok with such mentality, and that's one of the reasons why he's not a Vala anymore.

So what, Luthien? No. We aren't going to blame it on Luthien being pretty. We are not.

Morgoth lusted for her, but he's, well, Morgoth. He's like this and he's the worst. And going downhill through the book. (Yes, I like him but he is terrible and I'm not going to lie about it)

It wasn't Luthien's fault or plan. (Let's ignore the earliest version of the story, ok?)

So what?

My suggestion is: it wasn't lust what led Celegorm. (Not revenge either, that would be both terrible and stupid, what does Luthien even have to do with Eol?). It was desperation.

Imagine: Celegorm lived in Nargothrond, with Finrod "more foresight than common sense" Felagund + maybe had some foresight himself. He knew he was going to die relatively soon, he knew he was going to die because of B&L's Silmaril quest (overestimated how directly because of it) and (due to some Finrod's remarks l he knew the quest would succeed.

What doesn't he have. Well, a Silmaril. But also, kids to make the ghost of his father proud. It never mattered before, but now, with the vision of death being close, it does matter.

He gets it after Finwe, the intense want to have kids, have someone after him.

(Does it justify him anyhow? No. Rape is still rape. It just makes him more coherent as character.)

Or maybe he never married before because he looks so much like Miriel and what if his wife died but Luthien is a part Maia—

And also if he weds her and if she gets the Silmaril (Beren or not, he saw a vision of her wearing it, or maybe Finrod saw it and want discreet, anyway her fate is woven)—

If even one Silmaril returns to the house of Feanor without more bloodshed murders, without his (overly sensitive) brothers hating themselves more and more—

A freedom of one woman isn't too high a price, is it?

For the family. For the Silmaril and getting Feanor more grandkids and making them more special than Tyelpe is, maybe this one time Celegorm can make his father proud, maybe he can do something better than Curufin, for Roger brothers' peace of mind (Maedhros doesn't have to know how the wedding exactly happened)

It is as bad, but much less random, I think.

Also, whatever motivation we assume, I see the Luthien situation as Celegorm lowest point. I like to think that he regretted it later (Just not as much to not murder her son. But he wouldn't try to go this far again, with anyone.) That's just... He's very un-elven already, let's not make him more outside of the range of how things work in the Silm.

(Also, yes, I somewhat like him, that's another reason. Because my friends like him.)

[callsignbaphomet]

Edit: nevermind, putting the TWs up here instead of the tags.

TWs: violence, smoking, blood, rape, torture, kidnapping/abduction.

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Once the ringing in Jelani's ear subsided, the stinging sensation in the back of his head overpowered him and he let out a shaky whimper. He was already in a lot of pain from the beatdown he was subjected to but the worst was the sharp pain in his chest which felt worse every time he took a deep breath leading him to believe he had a few fractured ribs. Lying face down on the hard floor was exacerbating the pain so he tried to move to lie face up to see if the pain would subside, even if by a little. Jelani motioned to move his legs but noticed he couldn’t. Regardless of the reason he attempted to prop his right shoulder up to turn around but as he was turning, he received a kick directly to his spine which caused him to yell out.

"Nobody told you to move!" A voice yelled from somewhere.

Jelani was still somewhat disoriented, and it was hard to move to look around, especially with a swollen bloody eye. The pain in his chest was now burning but the kick to his spine made it unlikely that he'd be able to comfortably lie on his back. No matter how he positioned himself he was in immense pain.

One of the assailants sat on his legs, grabbed him by the hair and turned his head so Jelani would be looking at him. His heart began to race when he felt the man reach his hands under him and as soon as he undid his belt Jelani began to protest and scream but what was heard was a muffled mess thanks to the gag in his mouth covered by the tape. Several of the men told him to shut up but Christian, the group's leader, encouraged him to scream all he wanted as he said it would be more fun. The man sitting on his legs harshly pulled Jelani's jeans down to his thighs causing Jelani to scream and thrash about to try and get the man off him. The man sitting on his legs grabbed a handful of Jelani's hair, pulled his head back, and slammed his face against the hard ground several times as hard as he could. After the last hit Jelani just dropped completely. He was dazed from the hit to the back of the head but after getting his face slammed against the ground his vision went blurry and for a second, he thought he was going to pass out. He rested his head on the cold hard ground when he noticed he was bleeding from the nose.

For a second Jelani forgot his current situation and rested. He could hear some noises in the distance, or was it close? He honestly couldn't determine how close or far away they were. As he slowly closed his eyes, he heard a muffled commotion kick up and felt some weight press up against his back.

"Hey!" A voice yelled and suddenly Jelani was shocked awake by a splash of water to the face. The man that had been sitting on his legs tossed an empty bottle of water aside and then grabbed a handful of Jelani's hair and harshly pulled on it as he said, "Nuh-uh, you ain't getting off that easy."

Panic began to set in as Jelani saw the man sitting on him undoing his pants. He stopped for a second and smirked at Jelani. It was probably one of the creepiest and most unsettling smirks he'd ever seen. The man then pressed himself on Jelani adding more pressure to his already fractured ribs and making it that much harder to breathe. Despite the pain he was in Jelani began to struggle but it was in vain.

"I were you I'd save that energy for biting down on that gag 'cause I ain't wasting spit on you, kid." The man whispered into Jelani's ear and in one fast thrust forced himself inside him.

Jelani let out a blood-curdling scream and tried as much as he could to push him off but the harder, he fought back the harder and faster the man forced himself into him. His screaming made the pain in his chest worse but the pain from every thrust meant he couldn't exactly control his screaming. Eventually Jelani stopped trying to fight back due to the pain, he was shivering and involuntarily whimpering accompanied by sniffles. He could feel everything as it happened, but the worst was when he heard the man grunting louder and thrusting faster, and suddenly felt something warm fill him. When the man finally got off him his whimpering got louder and shakier. As the first man made his way out of the basement a second one had already sat on him. Sore and in an insurmountable amount of pain Jelani began to scream again as the second man forced himself inside him. This one took to punching Jelani in the ribs as he finished inside him as well. A third quickly sat on him and as he forced himself inside him, he grabbed Jelani by the throat and squeezed as hard as he could. Jelani kept crying and screaming, he didn't want to resort to begging them to stop, he knew they weren't going to or worse they'd go harder but the pain had gotten to him and occasionally his muffled screams turned to begging. They obviously didn't stop.

"Oh!" Exclaimed the third guy, "We got blood, boys!"

The sight of the blood and Jelani's screaming must have excited the third guy because after he announced Jelani's injury he kept going for another minute and finished. Instead of exiting slowly like the previous two had done this guy decided to inflict as much pain as he could and quickly pulled out. This did cause a lot of pain and as Jelani cried out the third guy laughed as he got dressed. Instead of leaving the basement like the other two had done he went to the stairs, sat down and watched.

The fourth guy had been waiting his turn eagerly but before getting to it Christian told him to wait for a second. He walked over to Jelani who was lying still and crying. Christian crouched down and smiled, he wanted to take in the sight of his men's work and was satisfied, at least partially. He wanted to inflict as much pain and damage as he could and felt there was more that he and his men could do.

"What? We're stopping?" asked the fourth guy as he stood over Jelani with his pants undone.

"No. Not yet. Get him on his knees."

The fourth guy chuckled as he grabbed Jelani and forced him to his knees. He was exhausted and in pain and could barely hold himself up so the man standing behind him held him up. Christian moved a bit closer and reached to grab Jelani's face, but he moved away from Christian's hand. As injured as he was and as exhausted as he looked, Jelani was still fighting back in his own way, even if it seemed insignificant. It wasn't insignificant though, not to Christian, he punched Jelani in the face and as Jelani lowered his head as a way to recoil from the pain Christian grabbed his face and ripped the duct tape off and removed the piece of cloth they used as a gag. Jelani yelled out and scowled at Christian.

"Scowl all you want, you little brat, but all of this is your fault. You shoulda minded your own business."

Christian pulled him closer to him and slowly dragged his tongue across Jelani's mouth. Jelani closed his mouth shut and groaned in disgust.

"Since it was that mouth that got you in trouble in the first place, why don't we put it to good use?" Christian stood back up but remained uncomfortably close. He undid his belt and pants, grabbed Jelani by the hair and pulled back hard to get him to look up at him. He quickly clenched his mouth shut and tried to lower his head, but Christian kept pulling on his hair to force him to look up.

"Open your mouth!"

Christian punched him again and again, but Jelani still kept his mouth shut tightly. This was annoying Christian, so he pointed at the third guy that was sitting on the stairs and told him to bring him his knife. Once he had the knife Christian crouched down and tightly grabbed Jelani's face while sinking his nails into his skin. He took the blade with the other hand and pressed the sharp end against Jelani's throat.

"Open your fucking mouth," Christian growled, "Or I'll slit your throat and let these fucking animals fuck you as you die."

Jelani slightly opened his mouth and Christian shoved three fingers in. He kept pressing the knife against his throat and slowly inserted his fingers deeper into his mouth and back out again repeating the motion. Christian leaned close until his nose was against Jelani's hair and inhaled deeply. Creeped out Jelani shuddered and tried to back away, but Christian stopped him.

"Bite down and I'll shove the knife down your throat and then throat fuck you until you choke on your blood." Christian whispered as he slowly removed his fingers and stood back up. He forced himself into Jelani's mouth while pressing the knife against his throat. At first, he went in and out slowly but progressively inserted himself deeper and harder. Eventually he dropped the knife and with both hands grabbed Jelani's hair and pulled him towards him. Christian told the guy behind Jelani to do what he was gonna do earlier so the man positioned himself, spit into his hand and forced himself inside him. This further agitated his injuries and the pain flared up twice as bad. Jelani screamed and tried to back away from Christian, but the fourth guy pressed his head against Christian and kept it pinned in place cutting off Jelani's air.

The harder Jelani struggled to back up the harder Christian would thrust into him. He wasn't concerned so much with speed as he was with force. As it went on Jelani could feel blood slowly dripping down his legs and was losing consciousness due to lack of air. As he went limp Christian finally let go of him and he hit the floor while coughing and trying to catch his breath. The coughing and the hit injured his already fractured ribs which exacerbated the pain he was in. As the fourth guy finished inside him Christian grabbed a broken beer bottle, picked Jelani back up by pulling on his hair and hit 'im across the face with it. His intention was to wake him up but all it did was knock him out and split open his upper and lower lips.

Jelani was out for a while. As he regained consciousness the sixth guy was just finishing and getting off him. He noticed there was a significant amount of blood in his mouth but as he tried to open his mouth, he noticed they put tape over it again so he was forced to swallow the blood. The amount of pain he was in was indescribable. Everything hurt and his vision was blurrier than before.

"Ah, he's awake." Christian teased as he shoved him with his foot. "Thought you were dead. One too many blows to the head."

Too exhausted to even look up Jelani gave a halfhearted and muffled fuck you to Christian who understood him perfectly and chuckled.

"Soon enough, honey, don't you worry about that." Christian then looked up at the seventh guy and said, "Your turn."

The seventh guy slowly undid his pants but stopped halfway. He looked down at Jelani and focused on all the blood on and under him and took a step back.

"You know what, Chris? I'll pass this once."

"No, you won't. Now get to it." The third guy that was still watching said.

The seventh guy turned to look at the third guy and scowled as he told him to fuck off and then looked at Christian who was growing angry with the delay.

"Look, he's had enough already. Either kill him or let's get the fuck outta here before his brother finds us."

"Bitch," Christian started as he pointed a gun at the man, "Since when did you grow a conscience? You've done this shit and worse before."

"None of them were fucking kids, Chris! I'm not you!"

"Looks pretty grown to me, so just pretend. Now get to it or I'll shoot both of your knees and leave you here so when big brother finds baby brother, he'll also find you. And I can just imagine the hell he'll put you through when he finds out what you did to his 17-year-old kid brother."

The seventh guy scuffed loudly and walked over to Jelani who tried to protest through his gag, but nothing really came out. The man got on his knees and lifted Jelani up on his knees as well. He made sure to use as much spit as he could and slowly slid himself inside him. Didn't matter how slow or careful he was, it still caused Jelani a lot of pain which in turn caused him to cry and shiver.

"Aw, come on, fuck 'im harder! He's not gonna break!" The third guy yelled.

"Shut the fuck up!" The seventh guy replied. He rested his chin on Jelani's left shoulder and whispered, "I'm not coming inside you. Not gonna do that to you."

A few seconds later he pulled out and carefully lowered Jelani to the floor on his side. The man stood up and cleaned the blood off himself and got dressed. He knelt near Jelani and whispered, "I'm so sorry, kid." He left quickly with the third man following him and mocking him for not being rougher and finishing too fast.

Christian waited until they left before turning his attention to Jelani. He circled around him admiring the wounds and the blood but more than that he was calculating what to do. By now Jelani was completely checked out, he was awake but was staring off into nothingness. Even breathing hurt on a level he had never experienced before. As much as he didn't want to cry, he couldn't help it, tears slid down the side of his face as he regretted not forcing Christian's hand to slit his throat. At least then he wouldn't have had to bear whatever else Christian had planned for him.

Christian kicked him in the stomach, but he barely had any energy to react to the kick much less the pain. Jelani even noticed that he could barely even make a sound. His screams were caught in his throat and there was a significant amount of pain. Unsatisfied with Jelani's reaction or lack thereof he kicked him again but the same result repeated. Christian confused his fatigue for a fight.

"Still got some fight in you? Huh?! You little brat!"

Truth was Jelani was barely awake, the blows to the head plus the blood loss were starting to take their toll on him. That and the shock to the system of being raped for hours; his body could barely manage a reaction. Christian searched his pockets for the key to the handcuffs and as soon as he found it, he uncuffed him and untied his legs. If Jelani still had a little fight left in him Christian was going to rip it from him and humiliate him. He stood over him while he smirked and waited for Jelani to make a move. Any move. Unfortunately for Christian nothing happened. Jelani just laid on the floor breathing heavily, bloody, fatigued, crying, battered and with his eyes half closed. Christian kicked him again, but Jelani still didn't move or even react and when he realized Jelani wasn't defying him but was just far too fatigued to even scream a wave of inspiration washed over him.

Christian sat on him, undid his pants and like the seven men before him he forced himself inside Jelani. After a few minutes Christian managed to shove at least three fingers inside him and pulled upwards as much as he could while looking at Jelani to see his reaction. Jelani shut his eyes and screamed in pain though the scream was hoarse with very little range, the screaming made the pain in his chest and throat worse. Christian ripped the tape off Jelani's mouth just to clearly hear him scream but as soon as he did Jelani spit out a lot of blood that had accumulated from his injury but as soon as he spit out the blood he continued to scream.

"Good boy! Scream all you want!" Christian laughed as he kept pulling and thrusting into him.

"Stop please!" Jelani managed to yell through his sobbing.

"Stop? Honey, I have only just started!" He grabbed both of his hands and pinned them against the floor with one hand and with the other he grabbed him by the waist and pulled him towards him to get even deeper.

"Please! Please…"

"Please what? Go harder?" Christian began to thrust into him as hard as he could, and the more Jelani begged him to stop the harder he'd go.

"Goddamn, kid, you're really fucking tight!" Christian kept going and eventually Jelani stopped begging for him to stop. As much as he wanted to, he knew that if he kept begging it would only make it worse for him so he stopped though because of the pain he couldn't help but cry out. After a while Christian slapped the tape back on Jelani's mouth.

Several minutes later Christian pulled out and turned Jelani face up. He barely had his eyes open so Christian grabbed him by the shirt, sat him up, yelled at him to wake up and slapped him across the face as hard as he could with the back of his hand. Jelani was done, he couldn't even keep his head up much less react to the slap. Christian grabbed him by the throat with both hands and slammed him against the ground causing Jelani to hit his head hard enough to black out again. When Jelani came to he was on his back and Christian was on top of him holding his legs open and in place as he forcefully penetrated him again. When he noticed Jelani was awake he used one hand to strangle him as hard as he could and with the other he grabbed one of Jelani's hands and guided it with his own. Jelani was so weak and in so much pain he couldn't keep his hand clasped around himself like Christian ordered him to.

"That's okay." Christian said as he grabbed his hand again and kept it in place with his and slowly began to stroke him. Jelani tried to free his hand but the more he pulled it away the harder Christian would squeeze his hand to keep Jelani's on himself. Eventually he gave up and turned his gaze away from Christian as to avoid looking at him while he forced him to touch himself.

"No, no, no, no. Look at me!" Christian stopped strangling him to keep him facing him. This went on for a while, but Christian told him he wasn't going to stop until he ejaculated. 

When Jelani was close Christian grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him up to his face and in an angry tone yelled, "Look at me! Every time you come you'll only ever remember my face. Doesn't matter who's fucking you, you'll only see my face every single time you come!" When Jelani eventually did Christian licked his and Jelani's hand clean and finished inside him as Jelani began to cry again.

Christian dropped on top of Jelani for a few seconds but before pulling out he whispered, "I'm gonna be inside you for the rest of your life, kid…" Christian then pulled out, stood up and tried cleaning off the blood but eventually gave up. He got dressed and made his way towards the stairs but halfway up he stopped and turned to Jelani.

"If you tell your brother and he comes after us I'm gonna find you, kill him in front of you and we do this shit again and next time I won't be as gentle. Kinda hoping you do, you actually taste pretty good." Christian laughed as he licked his hand and finally left.

Jelani didn't move, he couldn't, he was in too much pain, fatigued and emotionally stunted due to the events. He closed his eyes as he turned sideways and covered his face as he began to cry uncontrollably.

During the entire assault Dagny, who'd been tied to an old pipe with some rope and had her snout closed with tape, had thrashed about so hard she finally managed to break the old pipe and got loose. She quickly ran to Jelani and nuzzled him, but he kept crying. She sat next to him and pawed at him to get his attention but that wasn't working either, so she laid down next to him and cuddled him. After some time, Jelani went quiet and Dagny tried to wake him up by nuzzling his face, which she usually did to wake him up in the morning, but he wasn't waking up. The little nightstalker tried it a few more times but Jelani wasn't waking up. She pawed at him a few more times and when that didn't work, she made her way out of the basement and out of the old broken-down house. She sniffed the air a little and took off to where the camp was.

Dagny followed the scent of the camp and ran as fast as she could. About two miles from the broken house, she found the campsite and ran straight towards Loke.

"Dagny!?" Loke yelled out as soon as he saw her. When Loke got up in the morning he noticed Jelani wasn't in his sleeping bag and neither was Dagny. He assumed he was getting some breakfast, so he looked around the camp for him but hadn't been able to find him. When he asked around and no one had seen him Loke got worried and looked for him around the area. He spent an hour looking in the area around the camp but as time went by without finding his brother Loke began to panic. Marcus, the leader of the caravan, calmed Loke down and said they were going to get a party together to go look for Jelani. As they were preparing to go out Dagny had found her way to Loke. Loke knew well that Dagny didn't go anywhere without Jelani so the fact that she ran to him by herself alarmed him. His panic worsened when he saw rope tied to her collar and duct tape keeping her snout shut. He carefully removed the tape and discarded the rope.

Loke then grabbed his rifle and as he loaded it, he looked at Dagny and said, "Finn ham!" Dagny took off and without telling anyone else he ran after the little nightstalker.

Two miles from the campsite Loke saw a broken-down old house. Half of it had deteriorated so badly that it collapsed in on itself. Dagny ran into the building, but Loke was a little more cautious, he looked around the porch and saw cigarette butts and beer bottles scattered about. That didn't alarm him, it was almost a common sight in areas like the one he was in. Sometimes people would take shelter in old buildings for the night. However, slumped over an old wooden chair was a bloody cloth, Loke touched it and saw the blood on it was still slightly wet meaning that whatever happened hadn't happened that long ago. The fact that Dagny ran inside the building worried him, and all sorts of thoughts invaded his mind.

Dagny's yaps brought Loke back around. He still needed to find his brother and the fact that Dagny was purposely trying to get his attention was making his panic worse. Loke exhaled shakily and ran into what was left of the building.

"Jelani?" Loke called out but there was no answer. Even Dagny stopped yapping. Loke called out again and this time he heard Dagny's whimpers and followed them. As he got close to the doorway leading down to the basement Loke noticed several boot prints going in and out of the basement. Loke was already in full panic mode and the amount of boot prints wasn't helping.

Loke called out to his brother as he went down the stairs and into the basement. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he let out a shaky gasp as he dropped the rifle and covered his mouth with both hands. 

"Oh, fuck…Jela!"

Dagny looked back at Loke and whimpered, she then turned to Jelani and pawed at him. Loke fell on his knees and began to sob while biting down on his hand and with the other tried to balance himself up. After a few minutes he calmed down enough to stand back up and ran towards Jelani. He wanted to make sure Jelani was still alive, so he checked for a pulse and as soon as he felt his pulse Loke broke down crying and shaking. He rested his head on his brother's shoulder and pulled him closer to him as he cried out. After a minute he sat back up and looked over Jelani, the white shirt he was wearing had large blood stains all over, some bruises formed on his neck, Loke guessed it was from manual strangulation, his left eye was swollen, there was dry blood inside his nose, some blood had pooled under his head, so Loke carefully moved his hair around and found two cuts that were still bleeding. Loke then carefully removed the tape from Jelani's mouth and began to panic again when he saw his lips had been torn. Plenty of blood had pooled into his mouth so as soon as Loke removed the tape most of it leaked out of the corner. At the sight of the blood coming out of Jelani's mouth Loke began to sob again. He had to look away for a second to compose himself or else he'd give in to his panic and then he wouldn't be of any help to his brother. As he regulated his breathing, he looked over him again and noticed his jeans were down to his knees and a shaky breath escaped Loke when he saw there was a lot of blood trailing down between his inner thighs. A million things crossed Loke's mind at that moment and each one was as horrid as the last. He carefully moved him around to get a better understanding of the damage and to see why there was so much blood between his legs, but Loke knew, he just wanted to convince himself it wasn't true. He let go of his brother when he saw a little bit of blood had pooled underneath him.

"No, no, no…" Loke cried as he panicked. He gently caressed Jelani's face and leaned close. "Jela, wake up. Please wake up, please. Come on, baby, wake up."

Loke continued to caress Jelani as gently as he could though his hands were shaking uncontrollably, and his crying was becoming erratic.

"Baby, please wake up!" Loke cried out loud as he rested his head on Jelani's arm and sobbed uncontrollably as he continued to beg Jelani to wake up.

After a few minutes Loke felt some movement underneath him so he looked over and gasped as he saw Jelani awake or at least as awake as he could be at that moment. He then laid on his side facing Jelani who silently stared back at him as tears ran down his face. Loke couldn't help but cry as well, the sight of his brother crying and injured felt like someone stabbed him in the chest with a dull knife and repeatedly twisted it. He wrapped his arms around Jelani and hugged him closely while also being careful not to hurt him. Jelani buried his face in Loke's chest and hugged him as he lost all control and cried.

Both siblings remained on the floor hugging each other as Loke let Jelani cry. Loke didn't say anything at first, there were no words he could say that could make his brother feel better or take back what had been done to him. He wanted to be there for him and keep him safe but at the same time he was twisted with guilt. His one goal in life was to keep his brother safe and he felt like he failed him in the worst way imaginable. The worst thing that could be done to another human being was just done to his brother and he wasn't there to protect him from it. Loke tried to hold back his tears but couldn't hold them back any longer, not with the way Jelani was crying and pulling him towards him.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Loke said as he hugged him tighter.

After a while Jelani stopped crying, or at least as much when he woke up and saw Loke. Loke asked him if he could stand which Jelani shrugged as he wasn't sure. He tried talking but when Loke heard how raspy and barely audible his voice was he told him not to talk to avoid hurting himself further. Loke helped him stand and put his pants back on but as soon as Jelani took one step forward, he collapsed into Loke's arms. Walking hurt a lot more than he thought it would. Without hesitating Loke picked his brother up in his arms and carried him with Dagny following close by. It was an arduous trek back to the campsite, but Loke didn't care, he'd stop to rest sometimes but he wanted to get Jelani back to the campsite's doctor as soon as possible.

When they were close to the camp Marcus and a few others ran to help Loke with Jelani and took him to the doctor. At first Jelani protested being seen by the doctor mostly because she'd be able to tell what happened and after such a traumatic ordeal, he didn't feel like having a stranger poke and prod him but Loke and Marcus managed to convince him because of his injuries.

Dr. Subira Walker tended to Jelani's injuries but when the doctor asked him to undress so she could tend to his other wounds he freaked out and had to be given a sedative so Dr. Walker could stop the bleeding and see the extent of his injuries. It took an hour to treat all his wounds and afterwards they let Jelani sleep while the doctor spoke to Loke who was being consoled by Marcus.

"Your suspicions were correct. He was raped, found a lot of semen inside him, that much it couldn't have been less than five people."

"What about his injuries?" Loke asked in a shaky voice.

"Extensive. Two lacerations on the back of his head, summed up together it came to about twenty stitches. Pretty bad concussion which could lead to massive headaches for days, months or even years. It's hard to be sure for now, he did take a few hits to the head, that kind of injury tends to have consequences. Left eye is swollen and has blood in his sclera but that'll clear up in a few days. Bottom and top lips were torn, they took six stitches each. He's got some vocal hemorrhaging."

"Vocal? What do you mean?" Loke asked.

"He screamed so much he tore his vocal cords."

"Jesus Christ…" Marcus exclaimed under his breath as he placed his hand on Loke's shoulder who was visibly shaking and crying.

"He won't be able to talk for at least a few days and even then, he should avoid raising his voice or talking if he can help it. His larynx was also injured, by the bruises I'd say it was from manual strangulation. Has a couple of fractured ribs. Mild blunt abdominal injury. His soft and hard palates in his mouth are bruised. Wrists are bruised. Several tears and lacerations in and around the anus. These next three days are going to be very painful, so I suggest a mix of stimpaks and med-x as well as some antibiotics to kill off any STIs."

"How long will it take him to recover?"

"Physically? We're looking at six to ten weeks of recovery time."

"Okay…" Loke said absent mindedly as he processed everything Dr. Walker had just told him. The only thing he wanted to do was cry; anger and guilt were twisting his insides. Had he not been so rash in his decision to kill that NCR ranger they wouldn't have had to leave New Vegas and Jelani wouldn't have been raped. For a minute his thoughts went to Uthorim and his promise to him that he'd return once the heat died down and the four of them could go to Chicago like Uthorim suggested. Instead, they were out in the middle of nowhere and Loke needed Uthorim now more than ever. He needed his comfort and his strength. But most of all he just needed him.

"Listen," Marcus spoke up as he looked to Dr. Walker to reassure himself that what he was saying made sense, "I'll go talk to the others and let 'em know we’ll camp here for a week so your brother can recover. Can't imagine he'll be able to walk much for a while. Plus, it'll be easier for you to tend to him as well."

"Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus patted Loke's back and went to talk to the rest of the group. Details of what happened hadn't reached the others, all they knew was that Jelani went missing in the middle of the night but was found and was injured. The only three people that knew what really happened were Loke, Marcus, his wife, and Dr. Walker and none of them were about to tell the others what happened. As far as everyone else was concerned Jelani was only attacked, nothing more.

"Can I see him?" Loke asked as he wiped away his tears.

"Sure."

Dr. Walker escorted Loke to her tent where Jelani was asleep on one of the cots. She placed a chair next to the cot he was sleeping on and turned to find Marcus to give Loke some privacy but before leaving she turned back around and grabbed another chair. She sat next to Loke who was gently brushing back Jelani's hair.

"Loke?" Dr. Walker began as she looked over her patient and then back at Loke.

Loke looked up at her, there was more pain in those pale green eyes than he cared to admit. The redness and puffiness from the constant crying made him look helpless. His movement was rigid and slow like he wasn't all there but nevertheless Subira needed to say her piece to prepare Loke for what came next.

"Physical injuries are one thing. You know? We can treat his injuries with stimpaks, we can give him med-x to help with the pain, the antibiotics I gave him will kill virtually anything but he's gonna need more than that."

"What do you mean?" Loke gasped, thinking Jelani's injuries were serious enough to require surgery.

"Unfortunately, I've dealt with rape victims before and many of them go on to develop post-traumatic stress disorder, RTS, depression, some become suicidal, some developed haphephobia–fear of being touched, and other problems. Cases vary from person to person, but nevertheless traumatic events can have a lasting effect on a person's mental health."

"Okay, so what are you saying? That he might develop any or all of that?"

"We won't know for sure yet. My point is that your brother survived a very traumatic experience and he's gonna need you now more than ever."

"I know, but no matter what he needs I'll do it."

"Let 'im know he can talk to you about what happened but don't pressure him to, he needs to do it when he's ready. When he does open up to you just listen to him and be supportive. It'll upset you, it'll make you angry or maybe you might feel guilty but keep your emotions in check and only listen. Let him know he wasn't to blame for it and that he doesn't have to feel shame or guilt. It's not going to be easy hearing any of the details but if you need to talk to someone, I'm right here for both of you."

"Thanks, Dr. Walker." Loke swallowed hard as tears ran down his face. He rested his upper body on the corner of the cot and sobbed. Dagny came out from under the covers, she'd fallen asleep next to Jelani, and nuzzled Loke who then grabbed her, hugged her tightly and thanked her repeatedly.

Subira watched the three of them for a minute and sighed heavily. It was never easy to deal with that sort of thing, watching it tear down families of the victims but to her it was worse when it happened to minors. In the short time she'd known Loke she was aware that that man would do anything for his brother, any needs or wants he had were met swiftly and without hesitation. Before sitting down to eat he made sure his brother had enough food, every treat he had he shared it with his brother first. Whenever got a hold of some clean water he made sure to give it to his brother first and then he'd drink. He constantly doted on his brother and was caring and protective of him. She couldn't possibly imagine how he felt at that exact moment, and she didn't want to know either, his sobbing alone was heartbreaking enough to make her eyes teary. She turned her gaze away from the siblings and stepped out of the tent. She needed to find Marcus to establish some type of security in case the attackers were still in the area but before doing so she closed the tent up to give the boys some privacy.

Jelani slept for almost twenty-four hours. When he finally woke up, he found Loke sleeping next to him. Before he was assaulted he would've found it endearing but when he opened his eyes to find someone asleep next to him it frightened him. It took him a few minutes of staring at Loke's face to realize that it was Loke, and he would never hurt him. After a few minutes of staring and convincing himself that he was safe Jelani tried calling out to Loke, but his voice was still mostly gone, and he found it still hurt when he tried to talk so he gently tapped him on the shoulder. When Loke opened his eyes, both stared at each other for a while, it felt like the world froze for those few minutes while they stared back at each other. Deep down each one wanted to say something but neither felt it was the right time so both kept quiet even though their eyes said it all. Eventually Jelani broke the silence, sort of, he signaled to Loke that he wanted to wash himself and get out of his bloody clothes, having been sedated he hadn't had a chance to bathe after Dr. Walker treated his wounds. Loke got up to get him some clean clothes and when he came back, he asked if Jelani needed help. He did need help, he had difficulty walking and even more difficulty standing for long periods of time, sitting was out of the question, especially now that he'd developed some pain in the pelvic area. However, he wasn't comfortable with someone else with him as he bathed even if it was his own brother who would obviously not have any ill intentions towards him, much less of a sexual nature. He found himself between a rock and a hard place but he desperately needed to clean up, so he agreed to have Loke help him.

The camp had designated three different areas a little ways from the camp itself so people could bathe. Loke took the one that was furthest from the camp as he figured it would make Jelani feel a little more at ease. After warming up some clean water, finding his soap, toothbrush, paste and towel and setting it on a rock Loke went to get Jelani and both slowly made their way back. Dagny obviously followed close by. Once it came to getting undressed Jelani had some problems, but he continued to try to do it himself. Loke stood next to him, keeping an eye on him so he wouldn't fall or lose balance. After a while he managed to get his shirt off and he quickly discarded it, he tossed the bloody shirt as far from him as he could.

For the first time Loke saw all the bruises. Jelani had bruises all over his torso, along his arms, and one very pronounced bruise on his back along the spine. He had to look away for a moment but quickly gathered himself. He was there to help his brother not emotionally fall apart. He traced each bruise he had with his eyes and with each he grew sicker and sicker, but he took a deep breath and asked if he needed help. Jelani shook his head and went to undo his pants but the second his hands touched the fabric he froze. Loke noticed but only kept an eye on him and after a few minutes he told him he'd turn around if it made him feel better. Jelani nodded and waited for Loke to turn away. It took him a while to get fully undressed due to fear and pain but he managed to and once he was in the warm water, he relaxed a little bit. Jelani couldn't move all that well, so Loke offered to help him, it took a while for Jelani to answer but eventually he agreed.

Loke grabbed the soap and poured water over Jelani to help him wash his hair. As soon as Loke placed his hand on his head Jelani let out a loud whimper and jumped.

"Don't! Please!" Jelani cried out in a barely audible raspy voice.

"Honey, it's okay, it's me. Jela, it's me. It's me." Loke reached out to touch his face but remembered what Dr. Walker said about some rape victims being uncomfortable with being touched so Loke retracted his hand.

"I'm sorry." Jelani's voice broke as he lowered his gaze.

"No, don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for." Loke quickly replied and hugged Jelani. He couldn't help but hug him as tight as he could, he wasn't about to stand there and watch his own brother apologize for something he couldn't help. Just hearing him was breaking his heart. It was worse when Loke felt Jelani shivering and he doubted it was from the cold. 

Loke loosened his grip but kept his hands on Jelani's shoulders lightly caressing him. He rested his forehead on his and in a calm voice said, "I would never, ever hurt you, you know that, right?"

"I know…I'm just scared…" Jelani stuttered as he looked around to avoid looking directly at Loke. Tears were starting to fall down his cheeks and he wanted to avoid letting Loke see him cry again. He took a deep breath as he covered his mouth with both hands to stop himself from crying but ultimately, he broke down and began to cry into Loke's chest.

Jelani hugged Loke as tightly as he could while Loke wrapped one arm around him and placed the other arm around him so that his hand was carefully cradling the back of Jelani's head. Hearing his little brother's crying was devastating but Loke consoled him as best as he could even if he was falling apart on the inside.

"I love you." Loke said as he hugged him closer.

"I love you too." Jelani replied between sobs.

Once Jelani calmed down Loke helped him bathe, being extra careful washing his hair to avoid tearing his stitches. Loke helped him dry himself, helped him get dressed and helped him walk back to the camp where he laid him back down on the cot in the medical tent so he could rest. Dagny jumped up on the cot and curled up next to Jelani, since Loke brought him back Dagny refused to leave his side even for a minute. In the meantime, Loke went back to clean up and put away everything they used and got rid of the used water. As Loke tipped the container over he watched the faintly red water wash over the ground. Next to the boulder where Loke had placed the soap, toothbrush and other items Loke saw the jeans Jelani had been wearing when he was attacked. He grabbed them and folded them over his arm and walked towards the shirt Jelani had tossed. Both items were covered in dry blood. His blood. He picked up the shirt and stared at it as he held it in his hands. There weren't any thoughts crossing his mind at the moment, he just focused on the blood stains. He traced his thumbs over the blood and stared at them and without realizing it he started to weep. The more he stared the more he wept until he eventually began to cry into the bloody clothes, Loke lost his balance and dropped to his knees as he wailed. He kept repeating how sorry he was over and over until he was out of breath. After a while he went quiet and lit a cigarette as he held the bloody shirt in his other hand and stared into the forest.

"Loke?" Marcus called out as he and his wife, Tyra, walked over to him. He noticed Loke was holding on to the bloody shirt Jelani was wearing when Loke brought him back.

"Loke?" Tyra called as she knelt next to him and placed her hand on his. She frowned when she felt him trembling.

"Hey, how's your brother?" Marcus asked as he crouched in front of Loke.

"He's pretty numb right now. Still breaks down crying."

"How are you doing though?" Tyra asked.

"Doesn't matter." He took a long drag from the cigarette and stared through them.

"It matters, Loke, it does." Tyra interrupted him. "This is also affecting you and you need help, you both do."

"We know this is hitting you hard, so we wanted to check in on you."

"Thanks, guys, but I'll be fine. I just…keep thinking if I'd gotten up to see why Dagny was so skittish none of that shit would've happened to him. She knew there were strangers in the area, and I ignored her. It's my fucking fault."

"No, don't talk like that, come on. This ain't on you." Marcus reassured Loke though his words fell upon deaf ears.

"Our parents died when I was his age, he was only two and a half years old. Since then, I've been raising him and I've done everything I could to make sure that he's happy, healthy, and safe. I don't know if I'm crazy for feeling this way but more often than not I think of him as my son instead of my brother. Marcus, someone took my son, beat the shit out of him, raped him and left him to die meanwhile I was here sleeping, and I didn't notice he was gone until hours later. My son's gonna carry that with him for the rest of his life and there's nothing I can do to take it back! I failed to protect him! That fucking shit's on me!"

With tears running down his face Loke put out the cigarette he'd been smoking, left the bloody clothes and walked into the forest to take a walk and clear his head. Tyra was gonna go after him, but Marcus stopped her by telling her he needed to be by himself for a while. As parents both Marcus and Tyra completely understood where Loke was coming from but logically speaking there was no possible way for Loke to have known what was going to happen. Of course, it wasn't any of their kids that had been attacked, they had no idea what they would be feeling if they were in Loke's place, much less how they'd react to such a savage attack.

The combination of stimpaks, med-x and antibiotics took their toll on Jelani, and he spent most of the day in and out of sleep. In the afternoon Loke went to get Jelani so he could eat dinner but when he went into the tent, he found the cot was empty. He was immediately filled with panic and dread. Loke left the tent and began to breathe rapidly as he looked around for Jelani, he walked all over the camp but didn't see him. He ran back to where their belongings were, but Jelani wasn't there either, as his eyes began to water he looked towards the forest and saw Dagny sitting next to a tree and a faint trail of smoke emerging from behind said tree. Loke felt lightheaded but he calmed down as he walked towards Jelani and Dagny.

"Hey, little guy." Loke softly cooed at Jelani.

"Hi."

"Jela, honey, you should get back to bed."

"Nah, been in bed all day I just wanna stretch my legs a bit." Jelani exhaled and blew smoke from the cigarette away from him and Loke and then turned to look at Loke. "Really needed these too."

"I know it's a stupid question but, how are you?"

"I don't know. It's like I'm everything and nothing at the same time. I don't know if that makes sense."

"It does. Listen, Marcus and Tyra said we're gonna camp out here for a week to give you time to heal up a bit and–"

"Great!" Jelani scuffed as he flicked the spent cigarette away and grabbed a new one as he reached for his lighter. "Who the fuck else knows what happened?"

"No one else, babe, just Marcus, Tyra, Dr. Walker and me."

"That's four too fuckin' many."

"Jelani," Loke began as he remembered what Subira had told him after he brought Jelani back. He remembered her advice about letting Jelani talk about what happened and he was willing to listen even if he didn't want to. Just knowing it happened made his stomach churn in an awful way, but he was adamant in doing anything and everything he could to help his brother through the ordeal, "if you need to talk about what happened you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Jeg vet. But I don't wanna put that shit on you. I already know you feel guilty–"

"This isn't about me. It doesn't matter how I feel, what matters is trying to help you through this."

"Told Walker I didn't remember anything, but the truth is I remember everything they did. It's stuck in my head and talking about it isn't gonna change the fact that it happened."

"Jela, that's not what talking about it does. Keeping that shit bottled up inside won't help you work that shit out."

"Oh, yeah, because talking and fucking reliving it again will do wonders for me. I just wanna forget it happened."

Jelani put out the cigarette and began to walk away from Loke, but he grabbed his arm to hold him from running off. Panic quickly rose from within Jelani at the feeling of Loke grabbing his arm and holding him back and as a reaction to it he pushed him off him.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

"I'm sorry, Jelani. I just–"

"You what!?" Jelani screamed as he shoved Loke against the tree and got close to his face and in an angry gravelly voice said, "You want me to talk!? Fine! Want me to tell you how after I got the shit kicked out of me, they threw me on the floor and pulled my pants down? How one of them made me look at him while he shoved his cock inside me and didn't even bother using spit? Do you have any fucking idea how much that fucking hurts!? Wanna hear about the other one that put a knife to my throat and made me suck his dick while another one fucked me while I was bleeding? You wanna hear how I begged them to stop but all they did was tell me I was a good boy and how tight I was?"

As he kept talking Jelani's tone went from angry and intense to somber and shaky. As he spoke his jaw quivered as he remembered everything, and tears fell down his face.

"You wanna hear…how the last guy forced me to touch myself and made me look at him when I came? How I can't get my head around that? I didn't want to, but I still got hard and came, and I had to watch him lick my hand clean. Wanna know what he said when he came inside me? He said he was gonna be inside me for the rest of my life and before he left, he said that if I told you what they did they'd kill you. You wanna hear what it was like to be raped for hours? Or how what scares me the most is you'll figure out who did it and you go after them, and they kill you because of me?"

Jelani shuddered as he cried and Loke hugged him tightly. None of it had been easy to hear but he meant every word he told Jelani, he wanted to be there for him and as much as he wanted to cry too, he held back his tears in order to let Jelani cry out. A mixture of regret, rage and sadness overtook Loke as he figured out who had done such an atrocity to his brother. Part of him wanted to arm himself with every weapon they had in order to go after Christian and his men, but Loke knew that Jelani needed him more than he needed to go after them and get revenge for what they did to his brother, his kid.

"Dad?" Jelani wept as he looked up at Loke.

"What, sweetheart?"

"Swear you won't go after them. Swear on my life."

Loke sighed heavily as he rested his cheek on Jelani's head. Part of him wanted to tell him he couldn't make that promise but part of him just wanted to stay and take care of him. He knew he couldn't do both as much as he wanted to, but he had to do what was best for Jelani.

"Please don't go." Jelani cried as he grabbed hold of Loke and held on as tight as he could. "Please! Please, just stay here with me! I need you here, Dad!"

"I'm not going anywhere, hon. I promise."

[femininefatalityyy]

From Victim to Villain: 'Good for Her' Horror in Jennifer's Body (2009)

The 2009, now cult-classic, initial box-office flop, 'Jennifers Body' follows a certain character archetype for female characters which sub-verses the gender stereotypes of the classic 'Final Girl' trope, which is that of the female victim becoming a villain of the story herself.

TW: Horror concepts (Blood, Torture body horror), Mentions of Sexual Assault and Violence against women.

It's somewhat of a cop-out to claim that Jennifer Check is indeed the villain of her story, when if you look even a little bit deeper beneath the surface of the film, you can gain understanding that Jennifer Check is both a victim and a villain of circumstance. She is not inherently evil, and does not naturally gain the desire to kill the men around her, rather she is mindlessly attacked by an all-male band, who then attempt to sacrifice her for fame.

When the sacrifice goes awry because they discover that Jennifer isn't a virgin, which in it of itself is a sub-verse of the horror genre of virgin sacrifices, Jennifer is instead possessed by a man-eating demon. It is a common horror trope where women are punished for their loss of innocence and sexuality in general, Jennifer's Body however, turns that notion on its head. Instead of being punished for her sexuality, Jennifer is given the opportunity to punish those who are aggressors of the patriarchy that caused her to end up this way in the first place.

As previously mentioned, at it's initial release in 2009, Jennifer's Body was very poorly received in the box office, however it was marketed as a sexy high school sort of flip on the male vampire story. Which it isn't.

Megan Fox, who plays Jennifer Check, was two years off of her bikini clad sex-symbol role in the 2007 Transformers movie, and audiences had just begun to be pigeonholed into her reoccurring role of 'Bland, personality-less, sex symbol', which is what the straight male audience who the studio attempted to advertise the movie to, expected. Instead however, Fox spends the movie brutally killing and eating the men of the film, the occasionally sexy-strutting scenes are overwhelmed with Fox's near-haunting portrayal of the possessed Jennifer Check who is taking revenge on the system that hurt her.

Straight men expected a sexy seductress film of the hot cheerleader seducing men, and hurting them (maybe), however while Jennifer does lure her victims with the promise of sex, if you're looking for an explicitly and deducting Megan Fox role, this is the wrong film. The audience was met with a gripping tale which can be seen as a large critique of of the patriarchy and societal views of sexual assault, victim-blaming, and rape culture.

We, the viewers, don't actually learn about what happened to Jennifer until the end of the film, however she's changed after she returns from the van of the band she'd escaped in after the bar her and best friend Amanda Seyfried's 'Anita' had been in catches on fire. It is heavily implied to be a possible sexual assault case before we finally see the scene towards the end, where the band ties her up and proceeds to try and sacrifice her to Satan for fame. The men are shown laughing and making fun of Jennifer as she struggles and cries against her ties, before they begin to stab her and she is eventually possessed by the demon after the ritual fails.

The expectation of sexual assault and instead being tortured and sacrificed is unsettling and intentional. If they look even a little deeper into this expectation, the viewer can question the line between the two instances. She is violated, she's laughed at, and changes drastically because of it.

Learning this piece of information changes Jennifer's story drastically. She changes from victim to vigilante. And the Villainess acts of violence turn into revenge, rather than senseless violence.

Horror has never shied away from social commentary, and they often have been led by women in their narratives. However, it seems 2009 wasn't ready for this social commentary. Though the years have done Jennifer's Body wonders, the then box-office flop which can be attributed to false studio marketing, has now garnered a cult-like following of supporters and feminist support. And what was advertised as a male-gaze sexy cheerleader movie has just begun to be understood for its cultural relevance and critiques.

[elliepassmore]

Africa Risen review

Big thanks to Netgalley, Tordotcom, and the authors for an ARC in exchange for an honest review! The Blue House: Dilman Dila 3/5 stars I thought the concept of this one was interesting, an android attempting to remember her life and identity when she was a human, but had trouble with all the memory.sys and security.sys stuff. March Magic: WC Dunlap 5/5 stars I enjoyed the imagery in this one. Irl: Steven Barnes 5/5 stars I really enjoyed this story. Shango seems pretty unbearable at first, but he really comes through. I also liked the alternate/future version of justice and the intricacies of it. The Deification of Igodo: Joshua Uchena Omenga 3/5 stars This was an interesting story, but not really my thing. Mami Wataworks: Russell Nichols 5/5 stars I was somewhat confused by this one at first, but once I got a hang of the setting, I quite enjoyed the post-apocalyptic scene. Rear Mirror: Nuzo Onoh 5/5 stars This one was very entertaining. I liked the idea and imagery of an angry ghost tormenting the people going against her last/burial wishes. Door Crashers: Frank’s Zeph 3/5 stars The concept of this was intriguing and I think it really felt like it was going somewhere toward the end. However I was confused for most of the story. The Soul Would Have No Rainbow: Yvette Lisa Ndlovu 4/5 stars I liked how we jumped between the past and the present for this one. I also liked the mythological feeling the story has. A Dream of Electric Mothers: Wole Talabi 5/5 stars This one was interesting. I liked how it took contemporary beliefs and carried them forward to be adapted into a sci-fi world. The imagery was also very vivid in this one. Simbi: Sandra Jackson-Opoku 5/5 stars This is a pretty quick story, but I liked the variation on Mami Wata. Housewarming for a Lion Goddess: Aline-Mwezi Niyonsenga 5/5 stars I liked this story a lot. There’s a lot of imagery in it and the narrator had a dual-story thing going on. A Knight in Tunisia: Alex Jennings 5/5 stars This was definitely interesting. The shape of this world was somewhat confusing to me, but I liked the concept. The Devil is Us: Mirette Bahgat 3/5 stars I thought this was going to go somewhere but then it didn’t really, so… Cloud Mine: Timo Odueso 5/5 stars I liked this one and where it seemed to be going. I can definitely feel a larger character arc for Salim. Ruler of the Rear Guard: Maurice Broaddus 4/5 stars This was an interesting picture of future-America (or really a slightly exaggerated current America) and how people might find their way out of it. Peeling Time (Deluxe Edition): Tlotlo Tsamaase 2/5 stars TW implied rape I liked the ending of this, but the rest do it was fairly graphic and I wasn’t a fan. The Sugar Mill: Tobias S. Buckell 5/5 stars This story does a good job of showing the predatory nature of land development and of how ‘white vegans’ often prioritize animals over human lives. I liked the ghosts in this story, and I thought it was a funny touch that they enjoyed watching reality TV. The Carving of War: Somto Ihezue Onyedikachi 4/5 stars Interesting, but I was kind of confused. Ghost Ship: Tananarive Drive 5/5 stars This one head a good vibe to it. It feels like one thing at the start and then it becomes something else. I do wish we’d gotten to see Burden again though. Liquid Twilight: Ytasha Womack 4/5 stars This was a light story, though I don’t think I totally understood the ending. There are some implications there that I think I get, but it’s hard to tell. Once Upon a Time in 1967: Oyedotun Damilola Muees 4/5 stars I liked all the different magical creatures in the story. A Girl Crawls in a Dark Corner: Alexis Brooks de Vita 5/5 stars TW/ FGM, rape Unpleasant business but it has a satisfying ending. The Lady of the Yellow-Painted Library: Tobi Ogundiran 5/5 stars This was a fun little thriller/horror story. I enjoyed the anticipation of what would happen. When the Mami Wata Met a Demon: Moustapha Mbacké Diop 4/5 stars This was another horror-esque story, but it ended on a lighter note. The Papermakers: Akua Lezli Hope 5/5 stars I thought this one was cool. The paper magic and process of making paper are interesting to me. A Soul of Small Places: Mame Bougouma Diene and Woppa Diallo 5/5 stars TW mentions of rape This one is good, has a satisfying arc. I also like the ‘monster’ in this one. Air to Shape Lungs: Shingai Njeri Kagunda 4/5 stars The narrative here is in an unusual style. Interesting story though. Hanfo Driver: Ada Nnadi 4/5 stars This one is an entertaining story about misadventures with a hover bus. I did have some difficulty with it since it’s written in dialect. Exiles of Witchery: Ivana Akotowaa Ofori 5/5 This one is probably one of my favorites from the anthology. There’s magic and mayhem and solidarity, with a dash of danger. The Taloned Beast: Chinelo Onwualu 5/5 stars TW/ rape, abuse An overall good story about accepting who you are and standing with other people against the world. Star Watchers: Danian Darrell Jerry 3/5 stars I feel like this one had a lot of potential but doesn’t really have a lot of follow through. I want to know more about the Star Watchers and their community, and I think a slightly longer story could help with that. Biscuit and Milk: Dare Segun Falowo 4/5 stars This one was…weird, lol. It was definitely interesting and I think I liked it, but it is very weird.

[piratesfromspace]

You Again (Frank Castle/Reader)

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 1.5k TW: light description of wound and bruises, implied rape attempt, mention of alcohol, canon-typical violence, reader has ✨issues✨

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Some hurt/comfort with Frank Castle. For unknown reasons, reader can’t go see a normal doctor. This story was inspired by an unpublished fanfic written by a dear friend of mine, in which Frank already helps reader.

MASTERLIST

“You. Again.”

You never had been so happy to hear his gruff voice. 

“And you’re a fuckin’ mess.” Frank added, tone flat.

“You should see the other guy.” you croaked, trying as best as you could to smile despite the cut on your lower lip.

You were, indeed, a mess. 

Battered and bloody, you were sitting - or more accurately slouching - on the dirty floor, in front of one of Castle’s hideouts door, on a random Tuesday night. Your right hand was badly hiding the knife’s wound on your stomach, the gash in your blood-soaked T-shirt obvious behind your feeble fingers. Angry bruises were already blooming around your wrist, adding yet another painful layer to your miserable appearance. 

“Fuck.” He let the word slip between gritted teeth while scanning your body. You were not in great shape. 

“Fine, come here, don’t bleed out on my front porch.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, while you tried to put yourself on your feet, before admitting you were too weak to accomplish the simple task.

“I-I can’t... stand up.” 

Frank closed his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose, just like he would do to try and calm himself to avoid scolding a child. He eventually crouched beside you, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees, and the other behind your shoulders, gathering you in his arms and lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing. 

The door closed behind him thanks to a powerful kick of his foot, and you finally allowed yourself to relax a little, feeling safe for the first time in days. 

The dingy flat was nowhere near the level of comfort you would wish for yourself, but he was here, in this room, breathing and alive and focusing on you, and that was all that mattered at this moment. 

---

“I’m the first choice when it comes to patching you up I guess.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t have come if I had any other option.”

Frank was trying his best to stitch the wound on your stomach without hurting you too much, but the lack of anesthesia was making it difficult. The witty banter was one way of distracting you, and you were grateful for it.

“Done.” 

The needle clattered on the plate he had put on the floor next to the mattress you were lying on. You let out the breath you were holding, pain slowly radiating through your whole body, making his lazy way from the cut on your belly to the rest of your limbs, awakening in its path the dozens of bruises littering your skin. Your vision got blurry for a moment, ears ringing.

“Hey, stay with me.” his hand was on the side of your face, cradling your cheek while avoiding to touch the cuts on your lips. His warm and callused fingertips against your cheek gently brought you back to reality. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, cataloguing every cut and scratch, and you did not miss the way his eyes just narrowed for a second when they fell on your neck, his fingers hovering above the bruises there. 

“Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No.” you knew the moment the word escaped your mouth that you had answered way too fast and way too loud for you to be believable.

“You’re so bad at lying it hurts to see you try, you know?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Since you’re the one bleeding on MY mattress, I would argue that it’s also my business now.” 

Your defense was pathetic and he was so patient with you, you wondered why you had to be such a defensive jerk sometimes. You slouched a little more, you wanted to disappear into his mattress. 

“Truth is… I-I don’t really know.” 

“Let me take a look.” It was not a question, but he waited nonetheless for you to nod your approval before helping you shimmy out of your torned jeans. You winced, the movement cruelly reminding you of the freshly stitched wound on your abs. 

“Do I need to kill someone?” was his only reaction when the galaxy of black and purple bruises on your thighs appeared from under your pants. 

“He’s already dead.” 

He knew you were not lying this time, the proudness in your soft voice too earnest to be faked. 

“What happened?” he asked, voice so low and caring, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

“You know what happened.” you answered sternly.

Frank wasn’t dumb and it would only take half a brain to do the maths and understand the situation given the bruises on your neck, wrists and thighs, and the broken zipper of your jeans.

“Do you need medication? Something for...” he seemed lost all of a sudden.

“No, Frank, I killed him before anything happened. That was the plan.”

“The plan? You planned on being attacked and… “ he froze, his mind working to make sense of your words. He quickly understood, his expression suddenly changing. If he was looking sorry a few seconds ago, now he was angry.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been up with this vigilante bullshit again?” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” you scoffed.

“You’re not a 6-foot-tall trained marine.”

“That’s the point, I can easily lure those guys, unlike you.” You cut him off.

“You should have told me first.”

“What? I don’t need your permission.”

“You need my protection.” he was starting to lose his patience.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Says the girl bleeding on my doorstep.” he snorted.

The bastard got a point.

“At least I’m trying to be useful.” you retorted, in a low blow, a foolish attempt to not lose too quickly.

“You won’t be useful when you’re dead.”

“Right now I wish I was.” you grumbled, running out of replies.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

“Fuck you Frank. Fuck you.” 

He was tiring. You should have known you had zero chance of winning this argument from the get go. You couldn’t even go and dramatically slam the door on your way out. Your shaking legs would barely carry you up. Ok, maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea, and your injured body was just the proof of his implacable logic.

Frank rose on his feet slowly, a hand rubbing on the back on his head - he always did that when he was stressed and thinking too much. 

“Stay here until you’re somewhat healed.” his eyes were avoiding yours, his voice too soft whereas you wished he would be mad, because he would be way easier to fight him this way. “Please.”

It’s not like you were physically able to go anywhere else, and truth be told it’s not like you wanted to go anywhere else. The hurt in his voice made your heart clench. You had been unfair, just like usual. A stupid defense mechanism.

You thought about the last time he had to patch you up. A mean fever. Found you unconscious in a dark alley. Frank had taken good care of you, slowly bathed you in cold water to lower the fever, before tucking you against him under a blanket and nursing you back to life the following days. He had even kissed you that first night, and the next morning, when you felt better, he had pressed his body against yours and made you feel even better, this time with different means than some cold water. The memory of his kindness contrasting with your current ungratefulness had you on the verge of tears. 

You were mad at yourself. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” you offered after what seemed like an eternity. 

”And… thank you.” you added, trying your best to not burst out crying right there. 

Castle said nothing, he just left for the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, before squatting next to you and handing you the precious liquid. You gulped the whole shot down, you had not realized before how parched you were. 

“You lost some blood, that’s why you’re dehydrated.” he explained matter of factly, voice devoid of hurt or anger, like your little scene had not existed. And that’s why I’m saying nonsense, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll bring you some more.” 

Before he could rise up again, you reached out to touch his face. The sudden movement sent sparks of pain through your guts but you did not flinch. His eyes bore into yours and you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft then fierce, it felt like finally letting go of something that was burning you from the inside, your injury forgotten the second his lips touched yours. The taste of blood in your mouth was soon replaced by the taste of him and the lingering notes of the whiskey he surely drank before you arrived. 

Castle fell slowly on his knees, carefully hugging you, breaking the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper inaudible praises between two “silly girl”. 

You closed your eyes. It felt like finally being home. Finally being safe.

[eulangelo]

callout for @genderfluidlucifer

google docs

tw for transmisogyny + TERFs + emotional manipulation

Transmisogyny

Lucifer is a huge transmisogynist who will complain 24/7 about how TERFs hurt the ace community, but the moment @randomclustermissile , a trans girl (who is not an exclusionist at all) tries to point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles (in the most vague and general way possible, without pointing fingers nor calling anyone names) Lucifer will immediatly jump to block her and so they did with me (another inclusionist) and i have to suppose to everyone else who agreed with that post, even arriving to vagueing about us in private group chats to suggest that we were “sympathizing with exclusionists”. all because we dared point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles. lucifer is TME but apparently they think they’re the authority on TERFs and their talking points but actual trans women are not, according to them, since this is the stuff that they would go and spew to other people. (screenshots from @enbyoctoling​)

here’s more examples of Lucifer (again, a transmasc person) going deep in detail about how according to them, TERFs/SWERFs hate aro/ace people and are an active threat to us

1. link

[Image ID: Three screenshots of a post by Genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot is of a paragraph that reads, "Hey. So I can actually answer this. Anon your commentary about how you thought terfs would approve of sex repulsed aces is sort of it. Except...not. Basically terfs hate ace people for not wanting sex in the approved by terfs way. Terfs are actually extremely interested in [forcing] amatonormativity onto everyone. Because for as sex negative as terfs are...they don't want to actually acknowledge or change the fact that amatonormativity is at the root cause of rape culture and misogyny."

The second screenshot is a zoomed in section of the post that reads, "So yeah no I have NO idea where exclus allies are getting this idea from that terfs would even remotely care about the sexual rights of ace people. Terfs generally hate any sexualities in the LGBTQ+ acronym that aren't LGB because they can't force a gender binary onto those sexualities. At least, not as easily. That's why it's actually a massive sign of someone who doesn't call themselves a terf being a crypto terf if they use the term LGB in a positive manner. Along with the term SGA, as it is deliberately exclusive of nonbinary and not inherently SGA centric queer-aligned sexualities. /END ID]

link to the full post, these are just excerpts but the whole thing is just a very long rant about how TERFs hate ace people and so on (i think it’s worth noticing that although the actual post is kinda long, trans women are never once brought op in a conversation about TERFs issues and the only time transmisogyny is mentioned is not relevant to the conversation)

2. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is nothorses. It reads, "Because apparently I have to say it: Testosterone is not a 'violent' hormone. It doesn't make you 'more aggressive' or a worse person, it doesn't make you 'dangerous,' or 'toxic.' Transmascs do not need to be 'warned of the dangers of T.' We do not need to spend our transitions terrified that we're going to become a danger to those around us - that HRT is going to turn us into a monster.

Everyone experiences mood swings during hormonal shifts (pregnancy, menstruation, menopause, estrogen HRT, etc.) and while you might have grumpy moments or feel anger/frustration that you need to learn to handle differently, that doesn't make you a bad person.

Testosterone can change the way you access/process emotions somewhat, but if you're already thoughtful about how you handle your feelings and treat others, you're going to be fine. It's normal to lash out on occasion, by accident, then apologize and work to do better. It doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone on HRT is prone to this, and everyone experiencing hormonal changes is prone to this.

Getting HRT should be positive and affirming; you should not have to spend your entire transition terrified of becoming a monster."

The post then has a reblog by captainlordauditor that reads, "The big danger of T is that needle ouchy." /END ID]

here’s them reblogging from known transmisogynist user @nothorses (once again, the irony that a post about how testosterone is seen as the "aggressive hormone" does not mention transfem at all which are literally the main victims of this rethoric in the first place)

3. link (1), link (2)

[Image ID: Two screenshots of posts by genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot reads, "Queer exclus: We're not repackaging terf rhetoric! Saying that is transmisogynistic! Also queer exclus: Remove the plus from LGBT!" and has tags that say, "I will pay these people to grow some god damn self awareness. Imagine being this dense. Queer discourse." The post has 15 notes.

The second screenshot reads, "Honestly it is so stupid and frustrating to see ace exclus continue to deny that the ace discourse was started by terfs. Proof was given countless times. And a big name terf like galesofnovember even admitted to starting it. Those of you who demand proof but ignore all of this never wanted proof to begin with." and is tagged with, "ace discourse. The post has 38 notes. /END ID]

heres another two post of theirs conflating TERFs with ace exclusionism

4. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblogged post by furbearingbrick. The original poster is boxlizard, Lucifer's old account. The original post reads, "By the way for people still in denial about it, here's galesofnovember, a terf, admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement. She's taking credit for it. Normally if the victims of this behavior weren't ace/aro or other queer identities y'all be ready to rightfully lynch her. But since it's us, y'all just still wanna stamp your feet and go, 'Nuh uh!' instead of acknowledging facts." The part that says, "admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement" is a link to a galesofnovember post.

There is then a reblogged addition from furbearing brick that reads, "archived versions of the receipts" and has two links to the webarchive. The tags read, "Bringing this back since it's apparently still relevant. Terfism mention. Aphobia mention. Queerphobia mention. Blocklist." and has 1,455 notes. /END ID]

this is their post that ive already talked about but basically they found a 52 notes post made by a TERF in 2012 and this one person said "i dont know why i dont get to be the princess of the anti-ace-brigade" and apparently they are convinced that this means TERFs started the ace exclusionism movement and that this is one of their goals. which is insane when TERFs in real life only care about making life miserable for transfem people first and foremost.

5.link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is yu-gay-fudo. It reads, “Just in case you happen to be unaware, some of the “radfem lite” they post to warm you up to their rhetoric, just off the top of my head:

- Ace/aro exclusionism

- Bi exclusionism or claims that bi people are “less queer” bc of “straight passive privilege”

- Saying you have to be dysphoric to identify as transInvalidating nonbinary people

- Calling queer a slur regardless of context, saying people can’t identify as queer, and saying that it can’t be reclaimed

- “Mogai hell”, “kweer”, or otherwise mocking less common labels and claiming they are “just cishets who want to feel special”

- Excluding sex workers from feminist discussions or claiming that sex work is inherently evil

- Basically anyone who thinks they can determine what other people identify as”. The tags read, "queerphobia tw. twerfs tw. no id." and has 70,727 notes. It was reblogged on March 22nd, 2021 /END ID]

another example of conflating radfems to things that, while wrong, have little to nothing to do with them because being a radfem, again, is something very specific that has all to do with transfem oppression.

Emotional manipulation

Lucifer has done nothing but block, break boundaries, spread lies and vague about people, some of which were even mutuals with them knowing they would see the posts. when confronted about it Lucifer's only answer was "just say you hate me and block me" but they actually ended up blocking everyone first, making it impossible for anyone to set some boundaries with them or even just to calmly confront them about anything.

[proof: Io(popncourse) and Lucifer had a disagreement in a shared discord server, which prompted Lucifer to vague Io in a vent post. Io confronted them, as being vagued is one of buns triggers, to which Lucifer initially agreed to delete the vent post, but then proceeded to victimize themself and immediatly blocked Io. later on, Jude(malewifedeckard) was confronted by Lucifer, then after Jude told them “I’m worried that you’ll vague me just like you did with Io” they proceeded to block Jude and vagued about him too. when Io made a post (which was not a callout, it was just bun setting buns boundaries) explaining what Lucifer did, Lucifer immediatly jumped to victimize themself, acting like they were being called out and straight-up lying, even going so far as to say that no one tried to hear them out, which is a blatant lie if you consider the aforementioned Io and Jude’s attempts at doing so, with Lucifer immediatly blocking and cutting ties with the both of them. ] 

(screenshots taken by @popncourse and @malewifedeckard)

as seen in the proof above Lucifer’s behaviour is not ok because they don’t accept any kind of confrontation and immediatly jump to blocking, and after blocking, they'd immediatly go and vague about the people who confronted them pacificly, spreading more lies and painting themself as the victim and even arriving to say “no one hears me out at all” which is simply not something you can say when you block people who are trying to hear you out in the first place.

this is by no means an invitation to go and harass them, send them hate or anything like that. i absolutely don’t want anything even remotely hateful or negative to be sent their way after this post. 

this post was only made because:

1. as an ace person who fully supports the inclusion of aspec identities in the lgbt+ community i don’t want to support an enviroment that costantly downplays transmisogynistic oppression in order to be taken seriously. there are hundreds of ways to make aspec activism without acting like we(as in TME aspecs)are the victims of a system that seeks for the annihilation of transfemenine people in real life everyday. i especially don’t want to support TME individuals who act transfem-friendly but then block any transfem who tries to speak on transmisogyny without a second thought.

2. Lucifer’s behaviour has hurt two friends of mine and i don’t want to associate with someone who actively breaks people’s boundaries without taking accountability when messing up.

3. i cannot associate with someone who spreads lies about me accusing me of sympathizing with exclusionists all while having me blocked so that i can’t see it nor defend me. they complain about people not hearing them out but they’re the very first person who does not try to hear people out, and instead jumps to spread baseless rumors. this is not someone i can nor want to associate with. 

(image descriptions provided by @malewifedeckard)

[wpdarlingpan]

I have a suggestion! What about pan or jerome valeska kiddnaping the reader/oc? Ik its pretty basic, but maybe pan kidnapps her to obress Emma and Jerome kiddnapps her because he is fond of her appearance yk? Maybe a little bit yandere style.

Thank u I hope you like my suggestions!

Thanks for my first suggestion! I hope it’s good :)

Please let me know if there is something I should fix for later suggestions. Be it my writing style, or if you’d prefer me to make an OC for the story.

Also TW with just a mention of how Greenwood is charged with Rape and Murder. It’s only the mention and will not be brought up further.

Now on with the story.

Background information: Y/N is the daughter of Jim Gordon and Barbara. She isn’t associated with Barbra since she went slightly crazy. She considers Lee like her mom. Her dad is very over protective since he’s seen the dark side of Gotham. She is 18 years old and somewhat shy/innocent from being protected by her dad.

“Bye dad! Love you!” Y/N yelled out as she approached the front door of their apartment. She was hoping to leave before her dad could give her the talk she always got before leaving the house but luck wasn’t on her side. She also felt the teeniest bit of guilt for rushing out so quickly as she and her dad had a good relationship and she knew he was just trying to protect her.

“Wait.” He spoke coming down the hallway into the room. He knew she didn’t like the fact she had to go over rules before she left the house but he’d been even more nervous since there was a breakout at Arkham.

“Yes?” Y/N questioned.

“Got your phone?”

“Yep.”

“Charged?”

“100%.”

“House key?”

“Definitely.”

“Emergency money?”

“Right in my pocket.”

“Pepper spray?”

“Yep and with the safety on so I don’t accidentally spray myself... again.” She spoke while looking down sheepishly.

“All right love you kiddo. Remember what I said about those people who broke out yesterday.”

Jim spoke while lightly kissing the side of her head and let her go to school.

“I remember. Also love you Always and forever dad. Don’t forget you have a date with Lee later!” Y/N reminded before closing the door to make her way to the Gotham High school. Her dad had bought her a car so she would be more safe getting to and from school as he didn’t trust city busses or taxis. She didn’t mind though it was nice and she was able to play some music while she drove.

Once she arrived at the school she saw the cheerleaders loading onto the bus. She was a photographer for the yearbook and it was one of their first football games for the year so they send her to photograph for the team. She was way to shy to actually try out for it. Once double checking if her car was locked she put the keys in her pocket and made her way to the bus with her camera looped around her neck.

She got on first as the rest of the cheerleads were talking outside the bus with the coach. Y/N sat in the very back with her feet up next to her as a sign of ‘do not sit by me’ she was rather short so it was comfortable as well. She then pulled out her phone and began to text her dad that she was safely on the bus. He replied with a quick ‘ok’ and ‘be safe’ then she started to play a game on her phone as the cheerleaders began to load onto the bus. Once everyone was on the bus they drove away from the school at the cheerleaders were practice their cheers. The. Whole. Ride. It was beginning to get on her nerves as she preferred the peace and quiet but she knew that being on a bus with cheerleaders would be anything but. She grabbed one side of her headphones and began to play music. She lightly tapped her fingers to it and looked out the window.

They drove for about 20 more mins before they were stopped. A red truck had pulled in front of them and people approached the truck. She spotted guns in their hands. She quickly dialed her dads phone and begged for him to pick up.

“Y/N? What is it?” He could tell by her erratic breathing that something was wrong.

“There are people with guns on the bus! They just shot the driver. We are on (random Gotham street) please hurry!”

“I’m on my way! Try and stay on the line.” She said a quiet okay she a boy with red hair entered the bus. Jim quickly ordered police officers to make their way towards the scene.

“I want you all to know... this was a very difficult decision for us.” The boy spoke as he waved around his guns as if it was a toy. Y/N had already ducked down in her seat after a different person had handcuffed them to the seats. She wanted to stay out of of the seemingly ringleaders point of view as she watching her phone continue to hold the call with her dad and her headphone was in on low in order for him not to hear the phone. She still listened from her other ear to be aware.

“It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party.

In the end, we decided to skew a little younger.” He spoke while putting the gun to one of the girls heads. He walked towards the back of the bus as he continued his speech. She heard him coming and quickly tucked her phone into her pocket along with the headphones.

“Youth won the day. Sorry.”

He had reached the back to the bus and was about to turn around when he saw her tucked into the seat. She was very small and if he didn’t know this was a high school bus he would have thought she was a kid. She looked up at him with terrified doe eyes and he looked at her with a smile. He liked her. The innocence in her eyes that made him swoon. She clearly wasn’t like his whore of a mother. She would make a good partner.

“And who might you be.” He spoke while he used his charm. He lifted her chin up lightly with his unoccupied hand as the gun still rested in the other. She scooted as far away as she could with the handcuffs keeping her in place.

“Y-Y/N.” She stuttered out in fear. She was trying to hide not stand out. He moved her hand away from the start of the handcuffs and brought up his gun to which she began squirming at as it was raised.

“Shh, just going to get these off.” He attempted to comfort but it was honestly more frighting what was he going to do.

He shot the handcuffs and the bullet got lodged into the seat as she was detached from the seat but still had the cuffs around her wrist.

“You’ll be coming with me Doll.” He spoke while tugging her up from the seat as the cheerleaders continued to cry at the situation.

“No!” She attempted to struggle but she was too small to get away. But he held onto her. He tugged her out of the bus before giving her to Aaron. Since he didn’t trust Greenwood with his girl. Not like he trusted Aaron any more but he wasn’t charged for rape.

Aaron obeyed and tightly held her as Jerome put back on his crazy face and went back onto the bus.

“Give me an "O"!” He shouted to make fun of them.

“I said, give me a "O".” He shot the roof of the bus making the cry harder.

“O!” The cried out through their tears.

“ Give me an "N".” He spoke again with enthusiasm

“N!”

“Give me another "O"!”

“O!”

“What does that spell?” He questioned while greenwood handed him a hose that would spray gasoline out from the truck they had stolen.

"Oh, no!"

He walked up and down the isles of the bus and sprayed each and everyone one of them with gasoline while they all screamed in fear.

He finished and walked out of the bus and grabbed a lighter from his pocket.

“Ready? Okay!” Jerome said as he attempted to make the lighter work. The flame wouldn’t appear and Y/N continued to struggle in Aaron’s arms but for the man it was nothing. Dobkins was bouncing in his place with anticipation.

But it never lit.

“This is so embarrassing.” Jerome spoke harshly. He was making a fool out of himself in front of his girl.

“Anyone got a light?” He requested from the group of cheerleaders. Y/N was questioning if he really expected them to give him one since he was trying to kill them. He walked off after they all cried out a ‘No’ and winked at Y/N as she looked at him making her glance away hoping for her dad to hurry.

“I do. I got...” Dobkins replied while reaching into his own pocket to grab a lighter.

As Dobkins went to hand Jerome the lighter sirens sounded and police pulled onto the scene. She began struggling more as Aaron held her with one hand and shot with the other with little to no aim.

She saw as her dad got out of the car and quickly held up his gun. His heart stopped as he saw his daughter in the hands of one of the Maniax.

“Stand your ground, boys. They can't shoot at a bus.” Jerome smugly told the crew. He glanced at his doll to see her struggling still while eyeing one of the officers.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Jim quickly yelled in fear one something hitting his daughter or the bus.

“Dad!” She yelled out as she attempted to kick Aaron but did little to no damage.

Jeromes eyes widened with surprise. Jim Gordon had a daughter? This would be two birds with one stone. He smirked as Jim looked panicked.

“Aaron, Greenwood, get the truck started. And pass me my girl.” Jerome demanded. Y/N was shoved towards Jerome who caught her with a arm wrapped around her waist. He spotted her phone in her pocket and tossed it onto the pavement so they couldn’t be tracked nor could she call.

The officers had ducked behind their cars as Jerome shot at them.

“We're gonna blow this barbecue stand, huh Doll?” He told her as he tugged her towards the truck as her dad tried to follow before he was shot at again.

Greenwood sat on the outside holding onto the bus with the hose.

“Light 'em up!” Jerome spoke as he turned around and made a round motion with his arm to Dobkins who struggled with a lighter as well.

Jerome laughed manically as he got into the truck with her on his lap to which she blushed making him smirk and they began to drive off leaving Dobkins with the police.

Soon they were out of view and Jim quickly drove the bus away from the flames that had fought when the lighter was dropped. He needed to get his daughter back.

Y/N had a blind fold put on her as they left the scene to head back to Galivants building. Once they arrived Jerome picked her up bridal style and carried her into the building. He was stopped by the man himself as he headed to his room.

“And whose this?” He questioned quite poshly. She couldn’t recognize the voice but it seemed familiar.

“My girl.” He replied looking Galivant in the eye with a murderous look, daring him to say she couldn’t stay.

“Fine. But she stays in your room. Wouldn’t suggest having her out here with Greenwood.” He spoke before walking away to his office. Jerome laughed at even the thought of letting Greenwood anywhere near her. He brought her into his room and sat her on the bed. He quickly locked the door with a key to which he placed in his pocket before removing the blindfold.

Y/N blinked to adjust to the light and when she did she quickly scrambled back on the bed, away from the boy in front of her.

“Oh Y/N your never getting away from me. Not now, not ever.” He spoke before laughing crazily making her whimper and her eyes water. She curled up in a ball in an attempt to shield herself away from the boy.

“Well Doll, welcome to your new home. By the way, the names Jerome. Jerome Valeska.”

Y/N began to shake, her dad had told her about his interview. She should have for the hint from the fact of his unsettling laughter.

She was utterly screwed.

Let me know if you’d like a quick part 2

Also, please suggest things to write 😁

[sneezypeasy]

So, like last time, I’m going to try to break down what’s been going on to anyone who was out of the loop like I was. This is my best attempt at trying to understand the debate currently being waged in the Zutara tag and the timeline of events leading up to it.

TW: non-explicit references to rape/non-con

1. Zutara smut week initially had certain restrictions on the types of sexual and non sexual violence that could be depicted.

2. Upon specific queries from the community (some of which were perceived to be penned in bad faith), the mods removed the restrictions after some internal discussions were had and it was decided that it would be better to allow darkfic (specifically content containing rape, noncon, torture etc) to be submitted. The justification for allowing darkfics of this nature was essentially:

A. A lot of darkfics are written by survivors

B. As such, darkfics can be cathartic or beneficial to both readers and writers

C. It can be difficult to tell whether a darkfic is written by a survivor or not - and no, you can't tell simply by trying to judge the tone or depth or perceived implications of the piece

D. It would be difficult, somewhat subjective and potentially cause more harm than good, to try to draw a line separating "unacceptable" darkfic from "acceptable" darkfic (especially if acceptability hinges upon determining whether the author is a true survivor or not). Ultimately it was decided that less harm than good would come out of lifting the restrictions but enforcing proper tags instead, to allow the reader to filter out content based on their own discretion.

3. This decision was soon met with backlash among users who held the view(s) that:

A. It is in fact possible to differentiate between problematic and unproblematic (or less problematic) darkfics

B. Differentiation of this nature, to my understanding, primarily rests upon whether the fic appears to glorify rape/noncon

C. Rape glorification can be objectively (or near enough so) determined from examining the tone of the work, the way the noncon scenes are framed within the story, the structure and context within which it is placed and the character’s reactions to the scene (both during and after).

D. There is no inherent value to darkfics that appear to glorify rape/noncon that could justify their existence; only harm can come from it

E. In fics where Katara is on the receiving end of coercion, violence, abuse, torture, rape, there is an additional, racial element adding to the possible harm resulting from these fics, as they potentially reflect and/or reinforce racist attitudes surrounding the treatment of brown women both in fiction and in real life. (I hope I’ve explained that right).

F. As a result of all of this, anything less than a hardline stance against fics that glorify rape (or at least fics that would appear to glorify rape), suggests that the event holders themselves fail to treat the subject of rape/noncon with the appropriate moral weight it deserves.

4. In extension to 3, the fact that ZSW was perceived by some users to be a week intending to explore the "romantic" aspects of Zutara, further cemented the idea that darkfics exploring rape/noncon, even "non-problematic" examples, were (or ought to be) inappropriate given the theme of the event.

5. One user ultimately created a brand new tumblr blog specifically to champion the fight against ZSW’s new policy (the policy which indiscriminately allowed for the submission of noncon works without any mod discretion over whether the work was respectful, or whether it glorified rape/noncon content). Edit #1: I have been informed that this user was the same one who repeatedly submitted the queries referred to in point 2. That this user allegedly made a brand new account to repeatedly seek clarification from the mods on the inclusion/exclusion of rape/noncon content, coupled with their later posts aggressively targeting the ZSW the way they did is what was perceived by some mods/users to be disingenuous behaviour likely looking for a fight or intending to “stir the pot”. I have also been informed that the mods did not officially clarify the rule change prior to said user calling attention to it, by which point events had already significantly escalated. The lack of official, expedient clarification on the matter may well have made things worse in this case.

6. At some point, someone highlighted one of the fics submitted for the ZSW as a prime example of a fic that glorified rape. This person also accused the writer of improperly tagging the fic as dubcon rather than noncon. A discussion about the validity of these claims was held on one of the main discord servers for Zutara shippers (containing about 200 members). In the discord channel, the fic writer, who happened to be one of the mods for ZSW, defended their story and claimed the person(s) who complained about the fic mischaracterised their content, and were complaining in bad faith. Edit #2: I would like to rephrase this section to give more clarifying details, as it’s been brought to my attention (and upon reviewing the screenshot more carefully a second time, I do agree), my description was inaccurate/incomplete enough to be misleading. Essentially, the fic writer wasn’t complaining per se; rather, they had seen intense negative feedback being shared about one of their stories, but the account that had shared the negative feedback was also an account that had liked and favourited the very same fic. There was an apparent layer of irony, as it appeared this account was sharing this negative feedback while totally unaware that the description pertained to a fic they had read and enjoyed. This made it nearly impossible to contextualise or interpret the sincerity or fairness of the criticism, and lent credence to the idea that said criticism was built upon grossly misrepresenting the story (considering a fan had read the fic, and enjoyed it, then shared this scathing critique, apparently unable to recognize the actual fic it was written about that they had read.) In response to all of this, the fic writer/mod brought the issue up in discord to share amusement at the apparent irony of the situation, and also to seek clarification on whether the story was mistagged or not, in the hope that other discord members might be able to offer more honest/good-faith criticism than that they had seen. Ultimately as a result of the feedback they received from said discussion, they later added “heavier” tags to their fic (not sure when exactly this happened, but when I checked the story in question yesterday, it was tagged rape/noncon with accompanying disclaimers from the author).

7. A screenshot of (part of) this discussion (with discord names uncensored) was posted anonymously to the tumblr blog mentioned in point 5. This escalated the issue significantly, as users who were pro-restriction felt that the screenshot validated their concerns that rape/noncon works were not being given appropriate respect by the organizers of the event, while those who were supportive of the “tagged-but-not-restricted” policy felt that the screenshot was taken out of context and full context would/should have vindicated the users involved. A very unfortunate consequence of the leak was that many users who were not involved in the fight at all prior to this, suddenly were put in a position where the threat of doxxing became a real fear in what should have been a safe space. The well became very poisoned very, very quickly from there on, as both sides quickly escalated to accusations of hypocrisy, insincerity, disingenuousness and lack of moral integrity based on whether they felt the discord "leak" was justified or not.

8. Multiple users became frightened, sad, disillusioned or just didn't have the spoons to deal with the situation as it got to this point, and ultimately left the fandom.

Edit #3: One of the main users who have taken a strong stance against the tumblr blog mentioned in point 5 has reached out to me to offer more details they feel provide meaningful context, particularly on the subject of accusations of racism, racially motivated harassment, and bad-faith conduct. According to this user:

A. An unfortunate result of the tumblr blog’s continued campaign has been harassment and bullying directed towards the ZSW mods who are WOC. This would appear to run counter to the blog’s stated motivation (of fostering a safer and more welcoming environment for WOC), and/or their justification for leaking the discord post (they have suggested only white women were/would be affected by the leak). It is this consequence particularly that has lost the blog significant respect in the eyes of many users, as at best they appear to be bringing about counterproductive outcomes due to poor judgement; at worst these outcomes were deliberately manipulated due to the blog having always had bad-faith/malicious intent.

B. Upon hearing of the criticism levied against dark fic being allowed in ZSW, particularly from the perspective that it made BIPOC users of uncomfortable, the mods involved in the event allegedly reached out to and sought feedback from BIPOC members of the fandom, and the feedback they received supported a policy of correct tagging (as opposed to outright content restrictions).

C. Allegedly, the mods/users involved in the event have also reached out to those users who have since openly voiced their decisions to leave the fandom. Feedback from these users suggest that their discomfort was a direct result of the continuous conduct of the tumblr blog that had leaked the discord post, and not the result of the earlier decisions that had been made surrounding ZSW.

D. On top of all this, despite their frequent posting the accusational tumblr blog posts have received little to no public support or solidarity from other users (particularly BIPOC users), and altogether this has generated a certain amount of distrust wrt the sincerity of their claims, particularly the claim that they are speaking in allyship or in representation of a large portion of BIPOC users who have felt harmed by the parameters of the event.

E. Other reasons for withdrawing assumption of good faith remain admittedly speculative (that the tumblr blog’s campaign is an extension of the earlier, less successful(?) campaign against ‘Shirtless Zuko Sunday’, due to similar talking points being reiterated particularly regarding the role of race in fandom engagement.)

This is my best attempt at understanding everything so far. If there’s any further context or information that you think this post is missing, please let me know.

(Also, not sure if it needs explaining but there are links to expand on various elements of point 2 because this discussion happens to be one that has come up between me and a friend of mine before (not to do with Zutara specifically, but on the subject of whether and under what circumstances darkfic is justifiable to write/read/condone/defend, etc), and so coincidentally I’ve had those links bookmarked already for a long time, having found the arguments she sent me to be compelling and insightful. I felt that they were relevant here and potentially useful if anyone wanted to read more, so I put them in. I don’t happen to have any links on hand to expand further on anything under point 3, but if anyone wants to submit any that they think are worth reading and would support those points, I’d be happy to include them as well.)

[brownandblackpearls]

🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader)

 PART 1 SUMMARY:

While trying to escape the clutches of criminals and cutthroats, you stumble across a castle beyond imagination. The corpses staked at the front aren’t enough to keep you out. But after entering, you begin to wonder what you got yourself into, and what the castle is hiding within its walls...

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── TW// slight gore, general mentions of rapists// Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ next.

┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐

└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

You fight through the underbrush of the woods, hurrying as quickly as your feet will allow.

They’re on your trail.

You’ve been evading these criminals from the last town you’d passed through, but they just keep stalking after you. They’d been all too eager to see a lone, beautiful woman traveling with no companions, no guides, and no guardians. 

They had tried and failed to corner you alone several times in the town and on the roads, but you haven’t made it this far on your own without some learned skills. A finger-bolt of lightning at one’s eye, a fire-heated palm tight on another’s wrist, swings of sharp dagger at all of their torsos, their throats. 

Anything and everything to escape. It’s not your first sticky situation, and it probably won’t be your last.

You know how to be quiet. How to hide. And when it comes down to it, you know how to swindle and how to fight, if need be. You try not to resort to that, not out of compassion or concern for the heathens that try to best you...no. You just know that you’re not as skilled as some of the rigorously trained ex-militia and rogue bandits that prey on loners in towns and off the roads.

You don’t know exactly what they want. A woman to toss around between themselves and torture before they descend on you like wolves? A new girl to sell on the black market? A pretty decoy to get carts and wagons to stop on the roads, allowing them to abush, raid, rape and kill as they please?

Whatever it is that they want, you’re not giving it to them.

‘They’ll have to catch me, first.’

You duck and dodge branches, bobbing and weaving through the trees before the forest finally begins to clear. You keep your hand on your dagger’s hilt, just in case.

Who knows what hides in the woods?

Finally, you come to a clearing run through by a small creek. The dense woods have seemed to disperse here, and now all that you can spy are peaceful glens and swaying flowers. Deer jump away through the grass, hares run into their holes, and fish shine from the stream. 

It feels…safe.

But you’re not one to be foolish, and so you continue on. Hoisting your basket closer, you can’t help but spy a garden as you pass through the glen.

Fat tomatoes hang on vine, bright orange carrot tops sprout from the soil, green onions, zucchini, berries and fruits….

…Someone has made a garden here. Hopefully if they’re the gardening sort, then they’re the safe sort. You quickly fill your basket with a few items, tuck some coins hidden near the stalks in apology for your ransacking, and carry on.

Finally, the glen ends, the forest stops entirely, and you stumble upon something entirely unexpected.

'A castle...? Out here in the middle of nowhere...?’

A grand, gothic castle of castles, spirals up towards the clouds in the sky. You gaze up at it in awe, sure that there is nothing else in the world quite so large or so spectacular. You’re certain that had the woods not been so oppressive and thick on the way in here, so wide and strenuous, that you would’ve spotted the castle for what it was miles and miles and miles ago.

You whistle low, impressed as you step forward. You take only a few steps before you stop.

A ripple in the wind draws your eye.

Two barely clothed bodies impaled on stakes tower before you, death etched onto their faces. The spikes go through them, hidden by the soiled shifts they wear and rising high up and out through their mouths. It is a grisly sight indeed.  Unfortunately, you’re no stranger to ‘grisly’ in these lands.

You move slower, more carefully than before.

Assessing the bodies, the blood is long dried on the stakes and the petrified flesh. Most of the meat is gone, pecked away by crows most likely, and the flesh that remains is hard and dried out. 

You have dealt with your fair share of monsters, but you’re not too sure you want to risk running into the one who did this. It was done with malice, strength, and a raw fury. A nonchalance for human life, it seems. Much like the same nonchalance shared by the evil men you run from.

You hear faint voices call from the trees. 

They’ve tracked you. And they’re coming closer.

“We can’t come here. It’s cursed ground. Don’t you know who this castle used to belong to?”

“Yeah, and they’re dead. No one’s seen em’ for ages. But I see little footsteps. Have a feeling the lass went this way.”

You freeze, glancing between the bodies, the huge castle door before you, and the mouth of the forest.

It’s the castle and its possible hidden horrors, or the men on your trail.

“Skin like ebony, that one. Pretty mouth, doe eyes. She’d sell for a pretty penny.. We wouldn’t have to raid for months.”

“…Or we could keep her to warm the cold nights.”

Your mind races, trying to choose. 

You could fight the men, still. But there are many of them, and just one of you. Your magic is somewhat abysmal without knowledge to guide you, and your dagger won’t measure up to prove the little sword skills you do possess. Your words will probably not get you out of this one, either. Not this time.

“I’d rather make her scream.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you Macon? But you did that to the last one, and now we’re out here hunting a new lass instead of enjoying the old one.”

‘That’s it,’ you decide.

The castle it is.

You sprint away from the woods as fast as your billowing cloak and dress will allow, ignoring the foul smell of decay and passing between the bodies. You feel as though you’ve irrevocably crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed, a decision made that can’t be taken back.

You will live with it, you decide. Better that, than capture.

Racing to the front of the grand doors, larger than the largest buildings you’ve witnessed in life before this day, you bang raptly against the wood and stone.

For a moment, nothing happens and you feel as though you will be caught right at the footsteps of this castle.

Then, you hear a doldrum, a creak and whirring of machinery and mass movement. The door shifts open just slight enough for you to slide through, making a gigantic noise in it’s wake. 

Quick as wind, you push through and fall to the floor, turning to see the grand door begin to shut closed behind you. 

The men stand before the staked bodies, unwilling to pass them and watching you as the doors close you out of their sight.

“You’d be better off with us murderers and thieves, woman!” One shouts futilely. “For even our hearts aren’t as black as the monster’s in those walls!” 

The door shuts him and the rest out. You harrumph and stand, wiping the dust off your dress and looking away.

Fuck him. And fuck his threats, and fuck his horrible little friends. Any black-hearted beasts you come across, you could handle well enough.

At least…that’s what you tell yourself to keep a brave face. Better that than nothing.

You look around.

The inside of the castle is larger than life, grand, and dark. Everything is clean and without dust as you would’ve expected from such a structure…an army couldn’t keep this clean…yet it feels unlived in.

For a moment, there is nothing but heavy, oppressive silence. You listen for a breath, a sound, but can hear nothing outside of your own increasing heartbeat.

You turn, looking to the top of the staircase.

Your eyes tell you there is nothing there, but your instincts tell you something else.

Suddenly, the lights of a thousand candles sweep on throughout the grand hall, illuminating a massive stone staircase and a figure standing at the top of it. You have very good sight, but the room is so large that you can barely make out the figure, even with the candlelight.

Nothing is said, the figure is motionless, and you begin to tremble. This must be the one who lives in this place…not an intruder or a vagrant. You don’t know how you know, but the figure is too large, too looming, and too confident even in its vagueness of detail for you to assume it to be anything other than the owner. 

The one who likely staked those unfortunate souls outside the walls.

You feel as if the mysterious figure is waiting for something, and you don’t know what to say. But something must be said.

Your voice is as steady as your fear will allow.

“My name is ———. I come from afar. I am…I am seeking refuge…if you will have me.”

“Refuge from the men outside.” 

The voice carries through the empty hall, lilting, low, and deadly. You hear hints of refinement in the speech but they are not enough to hide the white hot lethalness you sense underneath. A rage that you cannot even begin to place or name.

“Y-yes,” you stumble embarrassingly, affected, “from the men outside. They followed me here. I have nowhere to go.”

“And so you feel entitled to my protection.”

“No!’ You exclaim, shaking your head. You stopped expecting assistance from people long ago. The life of a lonely wanderer is just that...lonely. “I inconvenience you, and for that I apologize sincerely. Just…just refuge. I can be on my way after they depart.”

“To where...?” The disembodied voice says as calm as a pond at night, yet you feel the ripples that lie beneath.

“Nowhere,” you breathe.

“…And you come from?” The figure disappears like a mist, yet the voice remains.

“I…nowhere,” you gasp honestly, truly afraid now.

“Lies.” The voice spits viciously, sounding closer then far away, as if it’s bouncing around the space of the great hall.

“It’s t-true!” You insist, your trembling hands reeling in towards your chest in a futile attempt of protection from the unseen danger. “I hail from nowhere! I belong to nowhere! I have little. Just refuge, sir. A night, even!”

“I could grant you refuge,” the voice assumes, “or I could send you back out to those men and be bothered with none of you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you breathe, daring a chance to hope.

The voice chuckles humorlessly, dry as dead leaves.

“Perhaps,” it toys. “But I also wouldn’t allow a mysterious woman of mysterious origins to stay in my castle, learn of my ways, only to run back to the outside world and send a horde of farmhands sprinting over to slay me. Wouldn’t be the first time. No, I think I’ll keep you instead. Are you willing to make that bargain with the Devil?”

You pause, your mind blank. You search for an answer to reason with this...this...your thoughts race.

“Look, I know I’ve come into your abode unannounced and rather…rather rudely, making demands, but I must implore you—“

“—Answer me!” the voice barks, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

'That’s it.’

“You’re a prick, you know that?!” You blurt.

“…” You can hear the confusion in the empty air. “…Pardon?”

You push on, figuring that if you’re going to be staked by the unseen castle-owner or given up to the men outside, or toyed with any longer by any of this nonsense, that you may as well speak your mind one last time.

“You know good and goddamn well that I am not running into a fantastical, creepy castle of myth decorated by corpses on the front porch for the fun of it! As if I care or even believe some farmhands could handle much less defeat you when you can clearly impale full grown adults and work such a place as this—!”

“...”

“—And how dare you tease a woman scared out of her wits, can you even pretend to try to put yourself in my place?! Do you know how long I’ve been running from those idiots? If I had your strength I’d’ve staked them myself and added them to your lovely, little welcome collection as a visiting gift, because believe me, I’m sick of running from morons and monsters! I’m not above spilling blood! But as I said before, I possess little, and come from nothing, and journey towards nothing. From that, you can figure I can’t do much in terms of protecting myself besides running into large, spooky places and begging their arrogant owners for some rest—”

“.....”

“—So, I’d very much appreciate if you stopped toying with me and make your decision on whether you’re going to kill me, kick me out, or keep me, because I’m tired of trying to figure this all out by myself and I’m tired of the anticipation. So what’ll it be Mr. I-Like-to-Leave-Corpses-Outside-My-Castle-and-Harrass-Visitors?”

You huff after your rant, waiting.

The voice is silent for a long, long moment, before an accusing tone reverbs back to you.

“You’re the one who barged in—“

“—You’re the one who opened the door!” You return, throwing your hands out in frustration.

“I didn’t, the castle did.”

“Oh, well fuck me, then. I suppose I ought to thank the ‘castle’ and head back out to let those hoodlums try their worst. So long, strange sir! It was interesting, arguing with you.”

You turn on your heel, over this entire day, and knock at the door raptly. You tap your foot as you wait on the castle, arms crossed and dagger in your hand to strike the nearest hoodlum that likely awaited outside. What a day, you couldn’t believe this shit.

The machinery whirs once more and the door barely opens before a large, leather gloved hand reaches past your head and slams the towering door back, closing it shut. The strength the act takes is incomprehensible, you think. 

Inhuman, you realize.

The hairs at the back of your neck raise long after the presence behind you appears. You feel no breath on your neck, yet you know someone stands behind you. You can’t look away from the large, gloved hand on the door. You’re afraid to see exactly who stands behind you.

A man...? Or something else entirely….?

You try to speak but gasp instead, short and shocked.

Silence reigns before you get a hold of yourself and choke something out.

“Y-y-you’ve made your decision then…I presume...?” You stammer into a squeaking volume, your anger long gone and replaced by fear once again.

“Don’t make me regret it…” The voice sneers, close enough for the breath of it to shift your hair and the baritone to reverb over your skin. A chill runs up your back and you can do little to hide it. You feel as though the figure behind you is impossibly tall, imperceptibly assessing, and spying every single thing you do. 

You feel the presence lean in over your shoulder, a mouth right next to your ear.

“…or you will regret it, visitor. That, I can promise.”

You gulp loudly, nodding your assent without turning around. You feel frozen to the spot. The hand withdraws and your shoulders unclench only a fraction. You feel as if a predator had been standing behind you, and has decided not to destroy you...for the moment.

You wonder if you are right, and why your cheeks suddenly feel so hot when your heart is beating so fast in terror...?

“I’m going to clean the trash off of my porch,” the voice states eerily. “Don’t touch anything until I return.”

As quick as a blink, the presence disappears entirely. 

You finally turn around, alone and confused.

There is nothing but the large castle hall, looking back at you.

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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ next. 

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

[werewolfcave]

ok i'll bite because i've been wondering this for a while. who are the murder squad? - jonny

YESSS Okay! *cracks knuckles*

The Murder Squad is made up of 4 people.

Miriam Marques aka The Devil (my character):

Ramriel (@gayaruakise's character):

Ahi (@umbreix's character):

Moss (@luna-mistrunner's character):

All 4 of them are Madoka Magica type Magical Girls. This means they all made a wish with a creature called Kyubey, and are tasked with fighting witches. This brings us the origins of the Murder Squad.

(TW for mentions of CSA and child abuse)

Miriam's wish, made at age 14, was to know what happened to her and who did it. You see, months prior, she ran away from home and came back. She does not remember what happened, she does not remember why she came back. It turns out that they were sexually assaulted by a man over in the city somewhat close by. Now haunted by this memory being both in absolute clear detail and constantly at the front of her mind, Miriam went to get revenge. See, when you're magic it's rather easy to overpower a grown man as a teenager. So Miriam quite literally ripped her rapist to shreds, in fact, the carnage was enough for the police to chalk up the murder to a rabid animal attack.

Now, she couldn't exactly return to normal life with the factors of A.) just having brutally murdered someone and B.) having the clear memory of her rape at the forefront of her mind. So she set out to continue this murder spree, going by the title of The Devil, killing rapists, pedophiles and the like.

Because of Miriam's power she has the ability to form a mental file on people, she is extremely perceptive and only needs to observe people for an extended period of time, maybe talk to them, to gain a significant amount of information that most would not be able to gather. This is because the magic is the ability to Know. She best utilizes this ability after learning to hunt and stalk people, and to help with this filing she tends to put on acts fit to the people who she is attempting to get file information from. Overall, this power means that she knows far more about people than they know about her, and that is both a blessing a curse.

Now, we aren't here to exclusively talk about Miriam so let's fast forward a couple years to when Miriam is 17, in the middle of hunting a priest in a small town in Wisconsin. After drowning said priest in his own basin of holy water like he had tried to do to an 8 year old so many years ago, they turn around and come face to face with one Tsubasa Ezekiel, later to be known as Ramriel.

Months prior to this, Tsubasa had wished to be something in the eyes of God. They had struggled with feeling like they weren't worthy of living for years, and they still do. This becomes relevant with the fact that not even a file pops up for this person. Miriam is perplexed by this and extremely annoyed that someone walked in on their murder.

Now I should note at this moment, Miriam has horns protruding from her head, a tail with a sharp hook-like end, claws, and fangs at this moment. So she definitely isn't human, that Tsubasa can tell right away. So suffice to say it's rather surprising when Tsubasa just nudges the Priest's body with their foot and say: “He had it long coming from what I’ve deduced” before sitting atop the alter and chuckling, “So what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Miriam is... not exactly welcoming to this newcomer who she can gather absolutely nothing about. So she tells Tsubasa to fuck off and leaves. But unfortunately for Miriam, when she gets back to the Motel she's staying at, TSUBASA IS ALREADY THERE. They're leaning against the wall all smug and they trace the motel room's numbers and say “111. Angel number. How ironic for someone who claims to be the devil.” Miriam is absolutely pissed and tells them to fuck off yet again, but Tsubasa is not going to let their newly discovered God go. So Miriam ends up having to begrudgingly let them tag along.

It's 3 months in that Ramriel receives their name. It comes after a big fight between the two of them, and due to the subject of the argument, Miriam ends up snapping and telling them "y'know what? You want me to be something so bad? Fine. Then I will be your God. I name thee Ramriel." And so their bond was sealed with two crosses carved into Ramriel's back with Miriam's knife.

The two become closer and closer over time. You see, Ramriel fell for Miriam at first sight. Miriam on the other hand, Miriam fell in love kicking and screaming. It was a year and 2 months in that Miriam finally admitting to loving Ramriel. Her Lamb. Her Angel. Her Loyal Follower. Her Everything. After that they were fucking inseparable, codependent even.

Ramriel had gotten Miriam to finally start to eat again, to take care of herself even a little. Miriam had given Ramriel the will to want to live instead of sacrifice themself for someone they love.

Ramriel is Miriam's anchor to reality, and Miriam is Ramriel's anchor to feeling like a person.

But this isn't exclusively about Miriel either, so lets move on.

This brings us to the third member of the Murder Squad, Ahi. Her wish was to be the spark that set her hometown ablaze, and thus she set fire to her Catholic Boarding School. Miriam ran into Ahi first, it was during a hunt and Ahi had set the building ablaze. Miriam suspected Ahi was attempting to interfere so she lured her to a spot to interrogate her along with Ramriel. They trapped her in one of Ramriel's barriers and talked until they were sure that Ahi wasn't attempting to interfere, then they let her go.

But that wasn't the last they saw of Ahi. Instead they ran into her multiple times over the course of a few months, and it was becoming extremely suspicious. Eventually Ahi proposes that she joins them, she loves what Miriam is doing, and she promises she can help.

Miriam isn't fond of witch hunting, her power interferes too much with it, so reluctantly agrees so Ramriel isn't shouldering witch hunts by themself. Ahi is a serial arsonist, and Miriam is a serial killer. Perfect combination, truly.

Anyways, Ahi ends up falling for Ramriel in a week tops, Miriam soon after. Ahi thinks Ramriel is charming, and an absolute sweetheart. Ahi thinks Miriam's whole tall dark and mysterious butch aesthetic is extremely hot, and so is the murder. It's later that Miriam uses Ahi as hunt practice and manages to end up dating her and sleeping with her through this hunt practice. It's also later that Ahi becomes queerplatonic partners with Ramriel.

But before that happens, we see our fourth member enter the scene, Moss. Moss' wish was total control, after years of having none. The way that Miriam met Moss was possibly more unexpected than the way they met Ramriel. When Miriam arrived to take out a target, she found Moss having already killed him. So all Miriam did was offer to help Moss take care of the body. Turns out Moss had been a victim of the guy, and Miriam wasn't gonna complain about a victim taking out their groomer. It was through this encounter that Moss ended up joining the group. They wanted out of town, and why not join this group, amiright? They erased themself from their family's minds and dipped along with the Murder Squad.

Moss becomes a sort of sibling figure to Ahi, and becomes good friends with Ramriel. But when it comes to Miriam, they both share a mutual respect for eachother but they can't be described as close for quite a bit. It's just how it is. But eventually they become some pretty tight knit partners in crime.

Moss is, as Luna has described them, simple. So there isn't much to say on them besides that they take no shit and Miriam has to try to be on her best behavior when they're around. (Not really though, they just think that they have to). Also Moss is a stoner.

Overall I think that sums them up, I'll post Miriam's backstory later but if you click the links attached to Ahi and Ram's names you should find more info about the two of them!

Oh btw they end up getting a cat named Shinji (Ramriel named them) and an Australian Cattle Dog named Dise (as in Paradise Lost, named by Miriam)

Also: the tag for this whole set of OCs is #miriam magica

[malewife-darkling]

tw for discussions of rape //

So- it’s a common, or at least somewhat held headcanon/what if scenario that the King, considering the line “even the Darkling still serves the King”, would call on Aleksander in the same way that he calls upon Genya. 

And in the show, the only Grisha oppression that Alina seems to care about, at least marginally, is when Genya tells her that the King routinely assaults her. 

SO what if, during the tent scene, Alina angrily brings up Genya’s fate to Aleksander, in her “how could you let this happen you monster” 

And he icily replies “do you really think that I wouldn’t have stopped it if I could? Otkazatsya hunger is endless- even when I attempted to take her place- Do you really think this King is different from any other that I’ve served under?” 

And they then have a dialogue where Alina is actually forced to acknowledge and engage with Aleksander

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

Some of my favorite TMNT fics on AO3

Note: these fics are not in any particular order, and there are plenty of others that I like which might not be on the list for whatever reasons. I might also add to this post later on.

The Chronicles of Karai Getting Her Shit Together by Crowdog - TMNT 2012. Post season 2-canon divergence where Karai shows up at the farmhouse instead of staying in the city. Her relationship with Leo blossoms as they’re both forced to face their inner demons. A beautiful, vicious, surprisingly funny story about coping with trauma while being a young monster in love. Tw for abuse, torture, PTSD, disabilities, noncon, alcoholism, molestation.

77 Things Michelangelo is Not Allowed to Do on a Mission by Winnychan - All versions. A cute, funny parody of “Skippy’s List” from a great writer who was taken too soon.

My R by cxlesstial - TMNT 2012. Pushed to the edge, Leo is forced to confront the sufferings of his loved ones along with his own. Inspired by Miss Chief’s beautiful, heartbreaking Youtube videos My R and Self-Inflicted Achromatic. Tw for depictions of depression and suicidal thoughts/actions.

superfight by persepoline - TMNT 2018. “You’d think Leo’s superiority complex and Donnie’s inferiority complex would be at least somewhat compatible. They’re not.” Humor and angst ensue; cw for discussions of disability.

Water, Contrast by Anonymous - TMNT 2012. A short, strange examination of the girl known as Oroku Karai and the ugly things that have shaped her.

sub!Leo prompts by GoblinCatKC - A collection of sexy stories, ranging from the sweet to the vicious, based on Tumblr prompts. Contains BDSM, explicit sexual content, and Turtlecest. Tw for various forms of dub-con and non-con.

Casting Stones at the River by GoblinCatKC - TMNT 2003. An immortality fic with plenty of angst and NSFW sex, including T-cest and polyamory. One of the first TMNT fics I ever read, and still one of the best. 

By Arrangement by theherocomplex - An Arranged Marriage AU where the fate of a world-saving alliance between humans and mutants rests on a reluctant union between Donatello Hamato and warrior April O’Neil. A sweet, funny slow-burn fic.

Not Our Problem by Kyn - “Set in a future in which the Foot took over the East Coast for over a decade. The three surviving turtles have finally killed Shredder, but remain bitter, jaded, scarred, and more than a little distrusting of humanity. Lots of hurt/comfort/psychology/fraternal love/infighting. Involves a baby.” Warnings for discussions of infanticide and suicide, attempted rape/non-con, and coping with disability.

All the small things by taizi - TMNT 2012. When an accident leaves Donnie unusually smol, Mikey has to deal with being a big brother for the first time ever.

Antithesis by VenusTheMarvelTurtle -  All versions. A Foot Leo AU with an Enemies to Unhealthy Lovers romance and heavy BDSM. Contains bad relationships, hateful speech, incest, references to abuse and rape, dubious consent, and graphic depictions of violence.

Hypnotised by squishyturtlefuckfics - TMNT 2018. A sexy, ugly ending to episode “Newsworthy.” Tw for rape.

Unraveled by ChickInRed and Ikara - TMNT 2012. “Donnie's hiding a secret, one he believes will destroy his family should they ever discover it. Little does he know his brothers have a secret as well, but unlike him they can't wait for him to find out.” A hot, sweet, occasionally heart wrenching fic with turtlecest and infant death.

jade green eyes turned white by subtlyfailing - TMNT 2012. A powerful and brutal exploration of the dark Raph storyline at its fullest potential.

Completely Casual by Werepirechick - TMNT 2012. Casey, Donnie, and eventually April stumble into a relationship. Winner of FIRST PLACE in the Universal TMNT Erotica Fanfic Competition 2016 for STEAMIEST SLASH/FEMSLASH. Warnings for self-loathing and bad guys being hateful.

Baby Diaries by the Peanut Gallery by moonie - TMNT 2003. The TMNT and their allies record their thoughts after one of Bishop’s schemes leaves them with a very small new member.

A Son For A Daughter by sleepseeker - TMNT 2012. When Splinter attempts to briefly trade Leo to the Foot in order to rescue Karai, he makes a grave miscalculation that will upend all their lives. Tw for intense non-con and mutilation.

Devil took your hand by moogsthewriter and taizi - TMNT 2012. The Hamato Clan races to save their youngest member after he’s brainwashed by the Foot; a beautiful and terrible story full of angst, violence, and survival.

in the bitter watches by impossiblewanderings - TMNT 2012. Raph speaks to Leo as he lies in a coma, spilling the broken and terrified pieces of his heart.

Past to Present by crabapplered - TMNT 2003. A sad, sexy tale of the SAINW TMNT bonding with each other and their newly returned Donnie through group intercouse, because why not?

Raphael/Donatello Mating Drabbles by Plastron - TMNT 2003. A steamy anthology with turtlecest and the occasional touch of dub con.

These Are Our Days by love_killed_the_superstar - All versions. An adorable description of Mikey and Woody’s relationship.

Ten Minutes by kay_cricketed - Mirage verse. Leo pushes himself to the edge in order to meet a seemingly inconsequential goal. A lyrical, angsty story from a spectacular writer.

Ronin by Lexifer - TMNT 2012. A Leorai story in the aftermath of a devastating final battle between two clans.

Laugh Till It Hurts by BrightLotusMoon -TMNT 2003. Love, angst, and peculiar coping methods in the aftermath of a battle.

Freeze, Starve, and Break Stuff by Abnormal_Cleric  - Raph is cracking at the edges, and Donnie might be the only one who can pull him back. Tw for self-loathing and self-harm.

Together Again by InkyTurtle (Melodistic) - TMNT 2012. Donnie has finally gotten his beloved brothers back--sort of. Now the question is whether he’s the turtle they left behind.

can’t let a cold heart be free. by Chandrakantya - An angsty little Leorai story on a rooftop.

Gravid Problems by Gemi - The TMNT are in for a big change after Donnie gives Leo and Raph some very interesting news. A sweet, funny, adorable little work; warnings for mpreg and tcest.

Countdown to Clarity by LittleKy - 2007 movie and other versions. An angsty reverse-chronology fic discussing the cracks that might have spread through Leo and Raph’s relationship.

Big Brother by outrunningdismay - “AU where the brothers hatched at different times.” A adorable work full of smol turtles and Leo learning to be a big brother one step at a time.

Maelstrom by FicklePencil - Raph’s thoughts in the aftermath of “Broken Foot.” A lot of angst for a rather short fic.

Also, here’s a list of my favorite TMNT works from orphaned accounts.