#btw this is ripped directly from my second assault a cop actually said that to me LMAO

[slamminslamminmcgill]

i can only support from the shadows but as an SA survivor please DO write about joel killing your rapists it would cure me

LETS GOOOO SA survivors eating good tn!!!! we making it out the rape kit with this one 🥵🥵🥵

warning: descriptions of sexual assault, rape kits, non-consensual drugging, police malpractice/incompetence, victim-blaming, arson, and spanking. one single use of the f slur for shits and giggles. reader is male and joel’s roommate. reader’s assailant is male.

"So, the next morning I..."

You sniffled as you relayed your trauma to Joel. He wondered why you'd tensed up anytime anyone even uttered the word 'FEDRA'. You’d said it was a bad experience. He’d said that doesn’t really narrow it down much, so you gave him the full story.

“I got the rape-“ You cleared your throat, that word burning your vocal cords like an acid, “got the rape kit done at the clinic… And I asked for a drug test, so that I’d… that I could prove he slipped me something… Nurse was good, she was nice… She gave me the release of evidence form to give to FEDRA’s law enforcement precinct… but they didn’t… they didn’t take it…”

“What?” Joel’s face was contorted in shock, then a scowl of disgust and rage on your behalf. “The hell you mean they didn’t take it?”

“They didn’t believe me. Said it was my *sniff*… my f-f-fault for meeting up with him in the first place…” You had your eyes down, staring off into space, speaking more to Joel’s shoes than to his face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now. You just know it’d make you burst into tears, tears that you were struggling so hard to contain. “I told them he drugged me… and they said… ‘H-How do I know you didn’t take the drugs before you got there?’”

“Fucking pigs…” Joel grumbled, “…so they just put the blame on you and let him get away with it?”

You nodded. Eventually, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your tears flooded the dam, spilling down your cheeks and onto the floorboards with one lone loud sob. Your hands clamped over your mouth, a makeshift plug for the vocal leak. Your body convulsed with sorrow.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay… You’re okay, bud…” Joel cooed as he took you in his arms, squeezing you tight enough for the facade to pop and your emotions to rush out in full. He held you to his chest and let you scream-cry into his clothes. You didn’t have to look at him, you could just let it out, eyes closed, your face buried in his flannel shirt. “It’s okay, little man. I’m here. I’m here.” He stroked your hair to calm you down, and sighed “We’re gonna make this right, you ‘n’ me…”

“H-How?”

How indeed. Joel’s eyes scanned the room for an answer, until they landed on his lackluster liquor cabinet. 2 shelves, on top: one nice bottle of scotch, about 3/4ths of the way full; on the bottom, about 12 cheap-shit bottles of moonshine. He broke the hug, hustled over to the shelves, and grabbed 4 bottles. He set them on the kitchen table, but not before peeling off the ratty-ass tablecloth that sat atop it. He grabbed it by one of its pre-existing rips, tore it into strips, and plugged the bottles with the cloth. Without even looking back over his shoulder, he commanded of you the following:

“Go grab your lighter.”

—

Thank god you’d had your panic attack when it was dark outside. There were only a couple of hogs working the night shift at the Boston QZ North Pigpen Precinct by the time you two rolled up to bike lock the doors. You’d split up to take the back entrance, while Joel hit it from the front. Then, you met around the side of the building, crouching under a window. He was holding a brick, and you were digging 2 molotovs out of a backpack.

“Alright. Now you’re gonna light ‘em, then I break the window. You throw ‘em in, and we fuckin’ run ‘til I say we can stop. You got that?”

How Joel managed to look so hot even in a ski mask was beyond human understanding. No one’s ever cared this much for you, ever been willing to risk so much for you, and who knew that arson was such an aphrodisiac? You’d been gazing faggily into his eyes, thinking about how hard you were gonna suck his dick after this. It’s the least you could do for him. You were processing such a vivid picture of the rough and nasty catharsis-fucking that you were due later, it was using up all your mental bandwidth. Therefore, his question took some time to buffer. “…What? Oh! Yeah, yup, got it. Sorry.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then tell me what we’re gonna do.”

“I light the bottles, brick goes through the window, bottles go through the window, and we run.”

Joel was actually pleasantly surprised that you were listening. “Okay, good.” He gestured to your hand holding the lighter. “Go on, do it, light ‘em up.”

One flick of the lighter, two burning strips of fabric, and three throws later, Joel grabbed you by the wrist and bolted down the street with you. No words, no time to think, just a mad fucking dash for a couple blocks or so. Eventually, he stopped you in another dark alley.

“Here’s good… Fuck…” Joel panted, bracing his hand on the nearest wall. “Ah, shit…”

“You good?” you asked.

“Yeah, ‘m fine… Fuckin’ knees,” he huffed, “Don’t get old, kid.”

You snorted, “I, uh… I don’t think that’s up to me.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel took one last deep breath, nudged you on the shoulder, “Hey,” and pointed out to the street. “Watch.”

You peered out past the alley, checking the left side first and keeping yourself mostly hidden behind the brick wall. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to be looking, until-

BOOM!

Your head whipped around to the other side of the alley, where several blocks down, the precinct erupted into flames. A dark cloud of smoke suddenly draped the side of the building like a ceremonial cloth, smelling like incense lit by burning rage. It was prettier than any firework show you could imagine. The flames roared, sizzling away your trauma, your anger, and cauterizing your wounded spirit so that it could finally heal. You took off your ski mask to get a better look.

“Pretty, right?” Joel’s voice sounded from behind you seemingly out of nowhere. It made you jump out of your skin, snapping you out of your daze and into a new one when he peeled off his mask to show off such a gorgeous face. His expression was nurturing, cut with affection, pride, and yet laced with a lethal dose of violence. Yeah, Joel, you’re right. You sure are pretty. That’s definitely what we’re thinking about right now. You were left speechless, and simply nodded.

“Y’alright, kid?”

You nodded again, tripping over all your words as they tumbled out your mouth. “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Thanks- Thank you… Thank you.”

“You remember where he lives?”

“Huh?” You cocked your head in confusion. “Where who lives?”

“Y’know… The guy who actually…” Joel pursed his lips, trying to find the most delicate word for the situation. “…violated you.”

“Oh!” You hopped up with an unexpected enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were so hyped up in the beauty of the blazing pigpen, that you’d forgotten FEDRA was only half the problem. They weren’t even the original offenders; they just shat the bed so badly that they managed to take the heat off your actual rapist. “Yeah! Yeah, I remember… I know where he lives.”

“Good. He’s next. Let’s go.”

—

And then later that night,

when you and Joel were back home, in the privacy of your own apartment, your joint safehaven, naked,

your face smushed into the window,

him inside you, behind you, and slapping your ass,

you moaned like a crazed slut, laughed ‘til you cried, and peered through the glass,

to see two vengeful fires lighting the skyline.