#this is me pretending this blog isn't dead

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 2

summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 8.1k

a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 3 (coming soon)

As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places. 

You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks. 

You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.

“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.

You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.

But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”

Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”

You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.

“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.

You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”

You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.

You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.

“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again. 

“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”

“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.

“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.

A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you. 

He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.

Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up. 

He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”

“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”

Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”

“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”

You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear. 

“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”

“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”

Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms. 

He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now. 

After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.

Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.

“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.

You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”

“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.

“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”

“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.

“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”

You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.

—

You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump. 

“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”

You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside. 

He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.

There’s only one way to find out, you decide.

You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?

You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.

But you aren’t so fortunate.

Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive. 

One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.

You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.

The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones. 

Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.

Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been. 

You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch. 

You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen. 

When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.

“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.

“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”

“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.

Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?

You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.

—

Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.

“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.

“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.

“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”

Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive. 

Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.

“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female. 

“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.

Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him. 

“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”

“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.

“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.

He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.

“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs. 

“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.

“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.

“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”

His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.

“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.

“T-the box… I saw—”

“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”

Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.

“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”

“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”

Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.

Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears. 

Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.” 

He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.

“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”

He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.  

As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.

“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.

Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.

“Huh?”

“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”

He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”

You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.

If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.

“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.

“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.

“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.

“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”

His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.

“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.

“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.

“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”

Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole. 

“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”

“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”

He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…

Like one of them. 

“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time. 

A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so. 

Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.

“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.” 

Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway. 

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.

Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.

Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget. 

“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.

“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”

“See… what coming?”

“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”

His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?

“You want me to… to kill—”

“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another. 

You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.

Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”

His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.

“I love you too, Joel.”

The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.

You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger @hjzghi-blog @natalieispunk (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[mommyashtoreth]

Beating a dead horse for this blog I know but I will truly never shut up about Az and Crowley not being "men" (at least 100% men, all the time) or God forbid "male" until I am in my fucking casket. Not "to me <3" or "in my heart <3" or whatever but textually, yknow, "for real." I do of course still wish that the show was more explicit about it, but it's certainly not quiet about it either. Any continued insistence that these characters are "male" characters or that a Lesbian or Sapphic or Dyke or Female or what EVER!!! "version" of them would require a change in casting or anything, is nothing but barefaced bioessentialism and transphobia and I am Done pretending it isn't. There will be NO more "teehee he's like a girl to me" in this community. Miss Anthony J Crowley belongs on my Top Ten Female Characters or whatever and if you can't handle that you don't deserve her. I can see straight through you people. Get away from my girls

[crownofgildedlilies]

oh, don't let your sunshine burn me!

in which: a son of hephaestus discovers a problem he can't solve. mainly, a daughter apollo who doesn't realize just how much her smiles hurt him.

pairing: leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings: not proof read, slight cursing (otherwise, n/a)

tropes: friends to lovers, fluff, pining

word count: 3k

notes: my inaugural fic post on this blog. how special. plz enjoy. feedback is much appreciated.

Leo Valdez was going to lose his mind.

Or maybe a limb. Maybe that would get your attention. He wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't that desperate for you to turn your focus to him.

Stupid Garrett from stupid Ares. Why did he have to go and nearly get his head chopped off by Clarisse while sparring, stealing his thunder?

He should have done more than let his finger slip while hammering away in bunker nine. An exciting injury would have earned the most prized reward of your attention, for sure.

"Are you sure she's too busy?" Leo asked Will for probably four times too many to be considered casual. The blond only rolled his eyes and shoved an icepack into Leo's chest, nearly knocking him back a step, snapping him from his far too obvious admiring of you.

Even from across the infirmary, three hours into your shift, you stole the wind from his lungs. He was convinced you were a favorite of Apollo's, what with the way you glowed and lit up every room you were in.

Which is how he ended up in his current predicament. Absolutely desperate for any hint of your sunshine smile sent in his direction.

"Positive. Now, get out." Will confirmed, checking things off on his clipboard. Leo figured he was probably recording basic information like the patient—himself—had all his limbs, both eyes, ten fingers, and was practically drooling at his half-sister. Leo darted another glance across the room to you, still diligently assessing moronic Garrett from Ares who had been brain dead enough to accept Clarisse's offer of sparring.

Why were you blushing so much?

Something awful and too familiar twisted in his stomach, and all Leo could hear was Piper's voice telling him that he better make his move on you soon, because you were too sweet and too pretty to remain single much longer.

"When's her break again?" Leo asked, ignoring the way Will tipped his head back and closed his eyes, like he was praying for the strength to not hit his patient while under his care.

"And you can't ask her yourself because...?" Will prompted, dragging out the final word and forcing Leo to snap his attention towards the son of Apollo, his jaw practically open in shock.

"Because then she'll know I'm totally into her!" Leo whisper-shouted, waving his hands around as if to emphasize his point.

"You come in here everyday with a new injury asking for her to fix you up." Will pointed out, voice flat. "If she hasn't figured it out yet, I'm not sure she will. You should probably just be direct and ask her out."

Leo narrowed his eyes at Will, but on a rare miracle, he was at a loss for words. Maybe Will had a point. Leo was never exactly good at being subtle about his many, many, crushes, and if you hadn't realized he was hopelessly in love with you yet, then maybe he was safe from feeling the sting of your rejection.

"You're not going to talk to her, are you?" Will sighed, tilting his head slightly as he studied Leo, who, despite having already been given the magic remedy of an ice pack, remained perched on the side of a cot used as a medic's bed.

Leo shook his head side-to-side so quickly Will was a blur of blond hair and orange t-shirt in front of him.

"No can do." Leo said solemnly. "She's miles out of my league. Not even I'm stupid enough to think I have a shot with her."

"Well, at least Garrett isn't as oblivious as you," Will shrugged, shooting Leo a pointed look he didn't understand. The ugly feeling was back in Leo's stomach as he darted his attention towards you and the gods-damned son of Ares.

You were laughing, and Leo wasn't the cause.

Jealousy flared up in him.

You, on the other hand, were completely ignorant to the conversation occurring on the opposite side of the infirmary, far too engrossed in charismatic Garrett from Ares who was retelling the story of how Clarisse had knocked him on his ass and sent him to get bandaged up.

For a child of the war god, he was surprisingly graceful in his defeat.

"Next time, at least bring a shield with you." You smiled at Garrett, checking off the final few items on your clipboard. No major injuries towards his limbs, nor his ten fingers, neither of his eyes had been affected, and he was able to hold a proper conversation with you. "Otherwise I've got nothing else for you. Just an order to take the rest of the day easy."

"I can manage that," Garrett relented, which, for a demigod, was a pretty big ask. Taking it easy was never really an option when one of your parents was a god or goddess. "Hey, any particular reason Valdez is looking at me like he's going to send one of his inventions after me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to act casual as you turned around slightly, finding that Leo had in fact found his way into the infirmary and in fact was staring at Garrett like he might make a good snack for Festus.

You had been starting to worry, thinking that maybe he wasn't going to show up that day.

"Dunno," You shrugged, ducking your face into your clipboard so you didn't have to look at Leo, or Garrett, or Will—who was sending you a look that was both pointed and annoyed at the same time. "But you're set to go."

"Perfect," Garrett jumped off of the examination bed, acting like he hadn't been carried in by two of his half-brothers, a sly grin on his face. "You sure that's not jealousy on Valdez's face?"

"What? Why would Leo be jealous?" You were ashamed to admit you stumbled over your words, your face turning a vibrant shade of red, as you considered the implication of Garrett's words. That Leo might have been into you, enough that just the sight of you talking to Garrett might have been enough to turn his mood sour. "We're just friends."

"Sure," Garrett grinned wickedly, the kind of grin only children of Ares could ever create. The kind that told he totally didn't believe her rushed dismissal of his words. "All I want is an invitation to the wedding. Talk to you later!"

Garrett darted off before you could swat at him with your clipboard, your face flushed with embarrassment. Gods, were you really that obvious in your crush on Leo?

Sure, he came into the infirmary just about every day you were working, with some minor injury or another for you to tend to. And maybe you took a little longer to heal him than you did when Percy or the Stolls came in, were a little sweeter, but were you so transparent that even Garrett from Ares knew what you felt?

"For the love of all the gods and goddesses, would you please just go talk to him?" Will grumbled, borderline exhausted, as he appeared at your side. You jumped, nearly lost in thought, and narrowed your sunshine stare at your half-brother. "He won't leave until he gets the chance to brag to you about his latest made-up injury."

You didn't have to ask who Will was talking about. Leo was still watching you from across the room, rather impatiently. He'd managed to find a few loose bolts and washers and was currently inventing something you couldn't comprehend while he stared very pointedly at the ground by your feet, having averted his stare the moment you darted yours in his direction.

"Shut up," You mumbled to Will, but regardless you dashed off across the room with what felt like permission to engage in your favorite part of the day.

You had received Apollo's gifts of healing, not his poetic words. And every day you cursed that fact, because never could you put into words just how much being around Leo Valdez made you feel centered within yourself. It was like his very personality gave you permission to the version of you that was nearly lost to time and circumstance and the tragedy of being a Greek hero.

"What's the problem today?" You grinned, the smile your half-siblings claimed shined brightest in the camp plastered on your face almost of its own accord as you stood before Leo.

"My hand, Doc." He sighed, playing along and holding up his left hand while the right shoved the ice pack Will had already given him behind his back. You snorted a laugh, and Leo's grin broke out from the solemn facade he had attempted. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to work again if you don't help me."

"Well there's only one solution," You nodded, pretending to read something off of your clipboard—which was still filled out with Garrett's information.

"Anything you recommend is good with me," Leo leaned closer, trying to read over the edge of your clipboard, which you quickly tugged close to your body.

"Right, I've got it." You grinned, dropping your face closer to his, almost like your heart was in control of your body instead of your mind. Leo nodded, and you would have sworn you saw his gaze shoot to your lips for the briefest of seconds. "Amputation. Mr. Valdez, I'm afraid we're going to have to take your hand off."

"But, that's my pretty hand!" Leo protested, playing into your joke quickly. You couldn't even pretend to hide your smile, laughter falling past your lips just as easily as breathing.

"Then I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do for you." You shook your head, grinning widely at Leo, who was—for a guy with ADHD as severe as him—giving you his full attention. "You're free to go. I'll see you and your pretty hand at the bonfire tonight."

"Glad to hear you agree that my hand is pretty." Leo slid off of the examination bed with a grin that had you flushing and looking over the contents of your clipboard simply for something to do with your eyes. "See you later, Doc."

Waving, you sent Leo off.

Over the course of the following week, Leo had found himself at the infirmary—during your shifts only—six more times.

Three smashed fingers from equipment you knew for a fact he knew how to handle properly. One cut to his arm from a piece of scrap metal. A paper cut.

On Thursday, he came in complaining of a serious burn.

"Doc, you'll never believe it. My whole arm caught on fire."

Will hadn't let him into the infirmary, claiming that Leo needed a better lie than that to come visit, since everyone already knew he was fireproof.

Leo came back fifteen minutes later with a second paper cut. Will took his break an hour early, claiming he needed to for his sanity.

But then you didn't so much as catch a glimpse of Leo for four straight days.

You felt more than a little pathetic, jumping every time the door to the infirmary opened, hoping against hope that it would be the curly haired son of Hephaestus you so adored.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, the door opened and you couldn't stop the way your body instinctively twisted around from where you words repacking first aide kits that were left in various locations around camp.

But it wasn't Leo standing at the door, but Piper.

You weren't the closest with her, but you were friendly. So you didn't think she was there for you, at first, until you saw her talking to your half-sister Stella and pointing towards you.

"Hey," Piper's voice had an edge of seriousness to it that snagged your attention, halting your efforts of resupplying. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

"Okay...?" You trailed off, not sure what she could have needed from you.

"Would you be willing to talk to Leo for me? He's in Bunker Nine, convinced he's going to make some big breakthrough on whatever machine he's currently working on." Piper explained and you nodded slowly, not seeing the problem. From your conversations with Leo, he always seemed to be in the middle of some big breakthrough. "He hadn't come out in four days. It's not healthy."

You frowned, trying to recall the last time you'd seen Leo at any of the meals. And when your mind came up blank, you settled on your answer to Piper's request.

"I'll talk to him."

You had never been to Bunker Nine.

As much as you talked to Leo, pretty much everyday, it was always in yours and shared spaces. The infirmary, mainly, but every once in a while at the dining pavilion or at the camp bonfires.

But you could barely focus on any one thing in the bunker. Half-finished projects littered the space, along with countless tools, scraps, and blueprints tacked haphazardly against walls and bulletin boards.

Since it was nearly dinner, the bunker had cleared out of all but one of its occupants. Perched over a table, working so diligently he didn't hear you approach, was none other than Leo Valdez.

Without thinking of the consequences, you dropped the canvas bag you had brought with you on his worktable, startling him so much he jumped in surprise and nearly sent his latest project clattering to the floor.

"Gods!" He shouted, wide eyed and hand pressed to his chest as if he could physically calm his racing heart. You couldn't help the way you grinned, a little lopsided, wholly endeared by him. "Sorry, were you trying to kill me? Because, if so, mission almost accomplished!"

"Actually, the opposite." With a confidence you didn't really possess, you leaned against the worktable next to him and started pulling tinfoil wrapped sandwiches out of the bag. "Everyone's convinced I'm your appointed caretaker, since you don't seem to do it yourself."

Leo had the good sense to seem chastised by the glare you sent him following your words. It wasn't like he could deny it, anyways. How many times had he ended up on your patient list?

"Did Jason put you up to this?"

"Piper," You confirmed, pushing a wrapped sandwich across the table towards him. Next out of the bag was a metal bowl, the bottom slightly charred and filled with paper scraps and twigs. "Light this for me, will you, please?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," Leo grinned, a ball of flame forming in his palm and igniting the twigs in the bowl. Without needing to be told, Leo unwrapped his sandwich and ripped off a chunk to throw into the flames.

You copied his actions. And if you made a wordless prayer to Aphrodite to ask for a little assistance, that was no one's business but your own.

"I've..." You hesitated, darting a glance to Leo before focusing on your sandwich, biting down your declaration that you've missed him in the infirmary. He had already started eating, only further proof that he had been skipping meals while holed up in the bunker. "How come you're always getting hurt, Mr. Clumsy? I thought children of Hephaestus are supposed to be good in the forges."

You would have sworn you saw Leo blush, but your attention quickly darted away from him the moment he lifted his eyes to yours.

"You sure you wanna know the truth?" Leo asked his voice a kind of serious that was almost out of character for him. You nodded, slowly, and forced yourself to meet his eye. "I've been getting hurt on purpose."

"Leo Valdez!"

"Wait, let me finish!" Leo held up his hands to defend himself from your words and your glare, the healer in your absolutely hated the fact that Leo would have done anything to intentionally cause himself harm. "I did it because I got an excuse to see you."

"What?" For a child of Apollo, you sure didn't have a way with words. Distantly, you cursed the fact that you were a gifted healer and not a poet, because you knew what Leo's words meant and yet you couldn't get your own to function. "Wait—"

"I know this sounds stupid," Leo dragged a hand through the dark, disheveled curls atop his head. "But Will wouldn't let me in to see you if I wasn't hurt! So I... maybe... lied, a little bit."

You frowned, in thought. Thinking back, you couldn't remember Leo ever actually being hurt beyond the occasional cut or scrap. You'd always been so caught up in him and his visits to notice.

"I swear I'm not weird. I just really like you." Leo winced, no doubt taking your silence in a bad way.

And you weren't one of Apollo's poetically gifted children, so you simply pressed your lips against his and hoped he got the message.

It was a short kiss, a good first kiss, you noted with no small satisfaction. Your lips tingled and your fingertips were buzzing—and Leo looked like he had just won the lottery.

"You're sweet," You smiled, a thousand watt one that maybe Leo adored as much as your half-siblings did, and nudged his sandwich closer to him. "But you're banned from the infirmary unless you're actively dying. And for real!"

Leo paused, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to create a scenario that would get him past the barrier of your totally official and absolutely within rules ban.

"I can make that happen,"

"No, you can't," You tried to shoot him a discouraging look, but your smile was far too wide to deal any real damage. "Or else I'll go to tonight's bonfire with someone else."

"Nope!" He shook his head quickly, hair bouncing with the movement and expression light with an impish grin. "You kissed me, Doc. You're stuck with me, now."

You smiled, silently deciding you wouldn't mind being stuck with him.

"That's what I thought."

Leaning over to press a second kiss to the corner of his lips, you pretended not to notice the sparks dancing in his curls.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Pyroclasmic Slooch (Sulucina vulcanis)

Debut: Pikmin 3

I think Pyroclasmic Slooch has one of the best names of any Pikmin creature! This is the one I break out if I ever need to explain what a Pikmin name feels like. A large scientific jargon-y sounding word, followed by a single silly little syllable it's perfect! And it IS meaningful, because Pyroclasmic is only one letter away from Pyroclastic, as in pyroclastic flow, a hot volcanic gas/rock current. And Slooch is just, look at this thing! It's what "slooch" looks like! Both as a noun AND a verb!

Fire in video game and monster design is usually pretty boring to me, just for how common it is. I get it, since it is pretty much the most "yeowch! don't touch" thing everyone is familiar with, but I have had enough of Charizardlikes bloating my media! Thank goodness, then, for Pikmin, which implements "conventional" elemental properties into fun, pseudoscientific speculative creatures! It may often be a big load of nonsense, but they explain the nonsense so confidently. Yeah alright. Whatever you say! Maybe a slug could be on fire.

Hello Slooch! What a nice smile you have, framed by your oral tentacles! I wonder if Pyroclasmic Slooch's eyes are useful at all. A regular slug's eyes are mostly just for sensing light and dark, but that doesn't seem practical for a creature that makes its own light that would constantly be in view! Just to be safe, you should give this Slooch a thumbs up, in case it can indeed see you! (computer screen is a real portal to another world where pretend creatures live)

So yeah, Pyroclasmic Slooch is a slug on fire, or maybe a snail whose shell IS fire. It doesn't really matter, either way, the DESIGN is fire! The vibrant orangish stripes on its black body evoke flowing and cooling lava! Lava joke: I bet it was a real "aa moment" when they came up with that design quirk!

As much as I love Pyroclasmic Slooch, it is a wild animal! And it will try to eat the min that you picked, with its funny blue tongue! Louie, everyone's favorite menace Louie, recommends cooking this tongue and no other part of the creature. Would You Eat? I wouldn't, but I wouldn't judge you for doing it. If you have plenty of Red Pikmin, though, their fire immunity makes Slooches very easy to deal with.

You know, real slugs like mold! Do you think Pyroclasmic Slooch likes mold? Maybe it could be friends, with mold. Let's introduce them!

Name: Moldy Slooch (Parasitus pseudofungi elasticis hostus)

Debut: Pikmin 4

Hooray! Now they're inseparable! You may notice that Moldy Slooch's scientific name differs greatly from that of Pyroclasmic Slooch, and that is because the Slooch is no longer in control. It is being puppeted by a fungus! Its nervous system and slime organs have been entirely taken over. Isn't that nice? Now the Slooch doesn't have to do any work, because the fungus does all of that for it! This slug can just relax for the rest of its life, because it is not dead! A dried-up corpse wouldn't be useful a very good friend, would it? In fact, if the Moldy Slooch does die, it can be instantly revived by a phallic, yet kindly Toxstool! The gift of eternal life!

Moldy Slooch's description by Dalmo (the animal enthusiast who could have been writing for this blog the whole time and you would be none the wiser includes the incredible line "Slugga slugga choo choo! Here comes the fungal spore train." So fun! Whee! I want to ride the train!

Moldy Slooch is really the best friend someone could ask for. After I met it in person, and it introduced me to Toxstool, I've never felt better! So what are you waiting for, fellow living animals? Come visit our damp cave sometime! You are always welcome :)

[neechees]

I'm putting out a scam warning for the user @/sheeyancjoje, also previously @/sheeyanc @/sheeyancjosie, possibly other urls, who claims to be a homeless & asthmatic trans person living in a tent. I have reason & evidence to believe that they are not who they say they are, that their photos/evidence is stolen, and that they are actually the scammer Laura Deramas, who is likely also running the blog @/destrawberry. They exhibit multiple red flags for typical scammer behavior including the following evidence:

First off, who is Laura? Laura is a scammer who was initially called out for scamming & suspicious behavior in 2021, then with some manipulation, convinced multiple people that she was genuine (including me), then it was revealed once more that she was scamming & doing everything she was originally called out for: including pretending to be multiple different people & then lying more when confronted about it, exaggerating how badly her family apparently needed "help", guilt tripping people into giving her money and then harassing anybody who did give her money & demanded they give her more. & then later lied a bunch more including faking an arrest & faking her own death (& later pretending to be her own sister asking for funeral money, & calling any evidence against Laura being alive "hate") despite the fact that shes still very much alive & has posted on her own social media multiple times after her alleged "arrest" on May 30th 2023, & alleged "death" on June 2nd, 2023. We'll come back to Laura & why all that is relevant in a minute.

First off, Sheeyanc doesn't actually ever provide evidence that proves what theyre saying is true. They say they're homeless and living in a tent, and while they keep showing a tent, how do we know that these photos aren't stolen? How do we know that those photos aren't just from some camping trip, or staged? How do we know they didn't just go take photos of an another homeless person's set up? We don't. They make other claims that they don't provide proof for, such as saying their legs were swollen, but didn't provide photos of this. We've also had a similar tactic of someone else claiming to he "homeless" and "living in a tent" & this turned out to be false.

Secondly, Sheeyanc has been harassing people to send them money, either by going into their dms to beg them and sending people photos to guilt trip them, or even literally telling people to open up their askbox or messages when they were closed specifically so they could do this. Laura was ALSO known to do this to various users, & she would send people unsolicited photos of her child or her family & talk about how much she was "suffering" to get people to feel bad for her, which she ALSO did to me. When she pretended to die, she also randomly sent people photos of her allegedly "dead" body to ask for money, which upset many people. If you go into the notes of this post, there's multiple users testifying in the notes that Laura would regularly pester them for money & send photos. Note that people asking strangers for large sums of money as a "loan" is a big red flag for scammers we've seen multiple times, including Laura. Below is Sheeyanc doing the exact same things listed above that Laura did: sending people unsolicited photos, talking about how much she was "suffering" unprompted, and asking for large amounts of money from individual users. Also notice the similarity in language and tone between Laura doing this & Sheeyanc doing this.

Thirdly, Sheeyanc blocked the Filipino user who called out Laura Deramas. This Filipino user was the one to discover she had faked her death & photoshopped someone else's death certificate to pretend it was hers. In addition to this, we also know Laura isn't actually dead also because after she'd been called out for this, the user who called her out very mysteriously started getting anon hate in Tagalog. Below is sheeyanc interacting with them just before blocking

& we know Laura has been known to get sassy & rude with anybody who called her out like here. note the appropriation of aave by itssmelau when confronting people who called her out, just like Laura did in the first callout link with the user lizardamiibo while ALSO pretending to be someone else.

As another major point, Sheeyanc has been seen interacting with another scam blog, @/destrawberry, and verbally encouraging people to give them money. Destrawberry is very likely run by the same person who was running imgonetoofar/imthegonetoofar because theyre claiming to be the same person & using the exact same photos, & before deleting, imgonetoofar was promoting & being promoted by the scammer sassysweetiegirl/zaquaaaablu (who referred to "imgonetoofar as their "friend"), both of whom I called out here. And as I mentioned before, the person behind @/destrawberry is a scammer, either someone who stole imgonetoofar's (another scammer) photos & is pretending theyre recent & to be them, or they're the same person who faked their death and came back again to ask for more money. And who else do we know who faked their own death? Laura lol. So in other words, Sheeyanc/destrawberry/imgonetoofar/sassysweetiegirl are all likely run by Laura pretending to be different people. On the left below is Sheeyanc promoting destrawberry, & then on the right is imgonetoofar promoting sassysweetiegirl in the replies, where you can also see me calling them out.

And lastly, Sheeyanc's banner is of the New Matina Town square in Davao city, the Phillipines. Davao city is where Laura lives. Here's a screenshotted image just in case they change it, and below, here's a comparison between Sheeyanc's banner on the top part of the image, while the image below it is a screenshot from a video of NMTS in Davao, very near where the banner photo would've been taken, but at slightly a different angle/position. You can tell its the same place because of the little circular green grass section in both of the photos, which is surrounded by a metal fence with the same design, both have the exact same road signs in the exact same place, & both are in front of a yellowish-white building with a second floor & balcony & the same design of roof, with palm trees.

& heres that same building but at a different angle (at the front). If you google "New Matina Town Square", you get the yellowish white building featured in the photo, and if you reverse image search sheeyanc's banner photo, you still get results for this Town square. Left is Google results, the right image is the Google reverse image results, highlighted in yellow.

If you want to be more precise, The yellowish building is a restaurant called "The commons at MTS", while the photo would have been taken next to another restaurant called "Taboan". Below is a helpful legend I've created from a Google maps view of the New Matina Square. The highlighted red area is where the banner photo approximately would've been taken, & the yellow area is where most Google search photos are taken at the front of the building. You can see the buildings I've mentioned, & if you don't believe me you can go take a look at Google maps & see for yourself.

And just so there's no confusion that Davao city is indeed where Laura lives, here's my old reblog of a post that Laura convinced someone to make for her where it confirms she lives in Davao city, as reblogged also by Laura and she was fundraising because of allegedly being affected by a flood there.

So to recap: the user Sheeyancjoje is likely the scammer Laura Deramas due to similar patterns of behavior, such as 1. Vague "proof", 2. Harassment of tumblr users in asking them for money, including sending unsolicited photos and guilt tripping or repeatedly asking for more money from people who already donated, 3. Asking for large amounts of money from individual users the same way Laura did, 4. Fighting with and blocking the same user that called out Laura for faking her own death, 5. Interacting with other confirmed scammers, including another one involved in a funeral scam, like how Laura was, 6. Their banner is literally a photo of Laura's city of residence

[your-queer-dad]

Hey dad,

My actual father died not long ago, not of natural causes.

He was a terrible person and a worse father, he disregarded the safety of those around him for his own ego, and abandoned me and my mom to go somewhere he could make more money. I see him and how he lived his life, and I see my worst impulses reflected.

For all that, you'd think I'd hate him, or at least not care that he's dead. But I dunno, I don't miss him, I don't mourn 'what could have been?', but I just... I wish I had my dad.

I guess I'm mourning the idea of having a dad. The ability to pretend I had one, maybe. I don't know how to untangle all this, struggling to understand how I'm feeling at all. I guess this is why I'm typing this out.

Y'know, funnily enough, I only started seeing your posts being suggested to me last week, the first week after he died. Honestly, at first, I wanted you off my screen. The long asks you responded to acting as a difficult to avoid reminder/representation of a concept of something I've never had. But that's why you do this isn't it? Because so many people don't have that.

Thanks for doing what you do, I know it's meaningful for a lot of people, including myself, recently.

Hey kiddo, I am so sorry about your loss and your situation. I think it's completely normal and human to want a dad, even if it's not your dad in particular. I cut ties with my own father a few years ago, and there will always be a dad shaped hole in my life. It's okay to want that, it's human. I started the blog to give people what I didn't have. And it's okay to want that. And I completely understand why it would be a painful reminder, but I promise you you are always welcome here. No judgment or pressure. It's okay. I'm really proud of you 🫂🫂

- dad x

[velvetvexations]

op of the werewolf comic was literally drawing himself, not "detransitioning her". presumably because he, being trans, didnt want to represent himself as a girl. thats common sense i fear

No, listen, it is vitally important we put a 19-year old on blast for drawing a boy in a meme instead of a girl.

I seriously can't stress this enough. This bullshit is all they ever talk about. They don't care about trans women except the ones who are compliant and into the same fetishes, they just want to hurt people and feel like martyrs online. Presumably hate crimes, transphobes legislating us out of existence, and campaign ads directly exploiting incarcerated Black trans women in support of a presidential candidate that wants us all dead, that's all, I don't know, too depressing, I guess? The TMEs stealing our memes and liking Rocky Horror, that's the real danger.

They call me a crypto-TERF because I think it's physically possible for a trans woman to cause harm to a trans man, and yet, I don't see them on any TERF's blocklist!

God, can you imagine not being on a TERF's blocklist? That would be so humiliating for any transfeminist with thousands of followers that regularly engages in aggressive activism!

Are they scared of actual, genuine transmisogynists? Is that it? Are they just cowards? Because they'll release the hounds on a nineteen year old drawing a silly meme where the girl happens to be a boy this time instead, but blogs that actively fantasize about murdering everyone with XY chromosomes, what, that intimidates them?

Or maybe they're just scared of seeing what TERFs actually think since they're so insecure in their femininity they have to pretend transphobes see them as women and only hate them exclusively. If you spent literally five seconds on a TERF's blog the fact that they feel the same contempt towards cis men would be glaringly obvious and that would emotionally obliterate these people. They wouldn't survive. Literally they would die because the idea of one person in the world mentally classifying them as men makes them have a screaming panic attack, which is also why they think getting included in a "hey guys" in a group that otherwise consists entirely of cis women and a parakeet is a deliberately cruel assault on the very soul of trans women everywhere rather than something to shrug off and politely ask to be excluded from in the future. I wish we were teaching trans girls to FUCKING COPE ONCE IN AWHILE instead of insisting that no, actually, you should have a fucking hysterical meltdown over fucking everything at all times regardless of context because no one will ever love you except for other trans women, assuming they aren't tainted by cooties from close proximity to t-boys, and you should never make friends or have sex with anyone else.

And isn't "this person drew themselves, a boy, instead of a girl, and that's bad" at the heart of it? Because just like TERFs, they see trans men as casualties in the gender war at best and willful traitors at worse. Usually both! Men will get "I want to impregnate him" jokes and that's fine, because like, sexual harassment and invalidation of one's identified gender isn't bad on principle or anything, it's entirely a matter of social karmic balance, men oppress women therefore you can do or say anything you want to a man, but like, make sure you only go after trans men, okay, because they might "socially murder" you by making a post about how you were objectively an asshole to them on their blog but saying things like that to a cis man could result in ACTUAL FUCKING MURDER WITH A FUCKING BASEBALL BAT.

[rzyraffek]

Omg tysm! The last request was very cute. :3 I have ONE MORE.slashers at a pool party ★ ★ for like, summer lol lol

Also, I really luv your blog, its so cute :33

Omg yay summer themed headcanons! Sadly it's cold today but I will try to get into mood😍

Sfw, they/them

Summer(mostly pool and swiming) with slashers!!

Billy Lenz

Buy god damn SUNSCREAM he will be red after 10minutes of hanging out outsite

The sun is a deadly laser

Pretends he is a shark and attacks their legs when underwater

Also loves to splash and do waves

spooked of hairdryer and comb, he rather look like wet rat

Begs them to buy those funny shaped rubber things that you can lay on (guys I have no clue how those are called so I iwol just put photo at the end of fic if you are confused

Micheal Myers

...

Hm no

No i dont think i will

The closest he ever been to big body of water was when he was drowning somone

I doubt he can swim, so even if he would appear in pool he would just walk on bottom, hhh goofy

Hates wet cothes

And sun

And hot temperatures

Brahms Heelshire

Hhehe water

This guy won't swim, he will just lay/sit in water

Guy looks like dead body lol he just... lays there?

But when s/o gets near he will jump attack them, also.... nice outfit s/o

He is definitely type of guy who loves summer

Will forgot sunscreen and turn into tomato soup

Yautja

Purr hot weather he like

I swear s/o jumped into water for fun and this guy had the biggest heart attack of century "AAA MATE WHY DID OU JUMP!! WHO KNOWS IF ITS SAFE??? WHO KNOWS MAYBE WATER IS TOXIC?? DONT DO THAT!" he also jumped right after them lol

After making sure that, no yaujta water isn't poisonous and yes s/o can swim

Probably he can easly stand on bottom and still have (at least) his chest above water level

Also will pick s/o up while they are mid-swim like' a fish👹 and later throws them back in water ya go

Asa Emory

Will just vibe at shore, sunbathing

Yeah your doing great love, nice swimming... now lemmie just lay down and zzz

Acts like that one mom on beach that never enters water and just doest really care

Yeah yeah just dont drown and do no splash me, if you splash me im going to take your PlayStaton4 privileges

A mimir

Also while yall go next to pool he is 100% throwing them in

Jason

😰

Eeh you sure about that?? Water

He will stick to shallow part of pool

Going to be worried about s/o especially if they do some epic tricks. Yeah that's cool that you can do a flip in water but pls it's scary :(

He enjoys doing lil splashes and just picking them up

Pls hold his hand

Eddie gluskin

Oh my love nice outfit you got

Huh me? Water? Aw don't be silly honey

He will just stick to sitting on edge of pool and watching them swim, do not splash him!! His outfit is too pretty >:( grr

If s/o pushes him into water he will litteraly try to drown them (in wacky way)

Hush

He is the one inviting them! He found some random lake in middle of knowhere lol

Will probably do some dumb contest 'yo swims there the fastest gets a free kiss🤭' *points at other shore 5km away*

Will pick them up underwater and be like "haha look what cool fish I found i Will totaly make dinner out of you" drags out of lake and tickles or something idk hes weird

Also im writing this right before the most important exam of this month cuz if I wont pass it I wont pass this year🥳🤪 wish me luck, chemisty sucks

thats the billy lenz thing i was talking about.

[spacelazarwolf]

hmmmmmmm i’m real fucking tired of jew haters lying abt me!

let's break this down, shall we?

white trans mascs like spacelazarwolf have no issue calling indigenous people "bone chillingly disturbing" for disagreeing with them.

actually i called what you said antisemitic, because it was. i called what i've witnessed from gentiles in general bone-chillingly disturbing and cruel, and that i've witnessed so much ignorance, hostility, and bloodlust from gentiles. because i keep seeing posts celebrating the massacre that happened on the 7th, and i keep getting anons that tell me "hitler missed one", "the world would be better off without your ilk", "we should have gotten rid of you all ages ago", "die zionists rats *nose emoji*", and a lot of very graphic descriptions of how they would like to rape and kill me. one user, blatantly on their blog, openly said that someone should kill me, and someone said they knew where i lived and could make that happen. that's not disagreeing with me. that is bloodlust.

they pretend to care about racism when trans women engage in it, but have zero issue jumping right to demonic stereotypes about indigenous people who dare to point out that their support of israel is supporting genocide.

hey asshole. I WASN'T TALKING ABOUT YOU.

also. I HAVE BEEN OPEN ABOUT MY CRITICISM OF ISRAEL, MY REFUSAL TO SUPPORT IT AS A STATE, AND MY BELIEF THAT WHAT THEY'RE DOING IS GENOCIDE. YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

literally just blatantly lying about a jew's opinion on israel so you can harass and demonize them is, i hate to tell you, antisemitic.

these so called "anti-semitic rants" were me saying jewish people can survive without israel and do not need to colonize or genocide another group of people to survive.

let's give some of the highlights of your posts:

"while you're here hand-wringing about the safety of israelis and spreading the white supremacist lie that they must be in israel to be safe, israel secured its continued existence by just now murdering 500+ parients and doctors under the excuse of 'well hamas is violent and is hiding in there"

'handwringing' do you mean mourning the deaths of peace activists and children? also if you've read literally any of my other posts on the matter, you know i literally talk about how zionists institutions and leadership use jewish safety and antisemitism in the diaspora to bolster support for a jewish state. pointing this out isn't agreeing with it when you do it, why is it when i do it? what could the difference possibly be??

also, there has been no confirmation on who caused the hospital bombing. there are many reports that it was a misfire by one of the groups in gaza, and those are still being investigated. regardless of who fired it, it's still a tragedy. it's still hundreds of innocent lives lost. and it does not change the fact that the lives lost on the 7th were also a tragedy. using this devastating loss of palestinian life as a bludgeon against a diaspora jew for having the audacity to mourn dead jews is disgusting.

"[you] only bring up jewish people of color to argue that israel is actually not a racist project because israel is the only thing stopping jewish people from being exterminated."

literally just lying.

"jewish people in israel are behaving as and acting as white supremacist colonizers of color"

thanks for literally just outright saying that you think the problem is jews, not the state of israel.

"colonizers globally are constantly killing kids"

and therefore the israeli children who died don't matter? are you expecting jewish people to choose between their nieces and nephews and innocent palestinian children who are killed in gaza?

"[spacelazarwolf has] ranted and raved that without israel existing, the jewish people would be genocided. he's appropriated the struggle of indigenous and black people abroad to cry that jewish people aren't welcome in countries like the us, despite living in the us and benefiting from his whiteness and the oppression of indigenous and black people as many other white jewish people do"

i think you've made it pretty clear you're totally fine lying about what i've actually said regarding israel, but the idea that jews are "appropriating the struggle of indigenous and black people abroad" when we talk about experiencing antisemitism in the countries we live in is so???????????? also you make it really clear in this snippet that your issue isn't with israel but with jews in general.

"white jewish people...have been able to exist in relative safety for decades in european countries"

are you actually fucking insane.

"israel's existence has made things more dangerous for jewish people in the middle east and north africa because these are areas that HISTORICALLY had co-existence between religious groups"

nice historical revisionism! swana was safer than christian countries for sure, but it's SO clear to me that you know absolutely nothing about the history of the jews of swana.

"he and israel supporters like him are constantly distracting from the war crimes and terrorism ISRAEL IS COMMITTING by handwringing perpetually about 'but violence is bad and hamas is bad for being violent, the only good palestinians are the ones that are quiet and don't fight back against us when we kill their kids"

sorry, who's "we"? are diaspora jews killing kids? or do you just equate every single jew in the diaspora to israel? also, yet more blatantly lying and claiming i support israel when i repeatedly have stated i haven't! but it's much more convenient to claim i have, because then you can say that i kill kids!

there's a bunch of other times you repeat the lie that i support israel and "advocate for the continued existence of a settler colonizer state and lying and claiming it's the only way for jewish people to be safe" but i won't include all of those bc this post would be VERY long.

"israel supporters are really out here arguing that palestinians need to hold hands with their genociders and forgive them and find peace - completely ignoring that for centuries there was peace between religious groups in the region and israel destroyed it"

goyim being embarrassingly ignorant of jewish history outside of a warped view of the holocaust? i am shocked!

"the supposed civilians attacked turned out to be iof soldiers so yeah actually it's fucked for you to say. they shouldn't attack people who colonize and massacre palestinian people for their day job"

blatantly supporting the massacre of 1,300 israelis, including children.

"all they can do is fight back or die, while israelis grab their passport and fly back to the us or some other european country and wait for israel to finish their genocide so they can go back"

feel like i don't need to explain why. this is conspiracy theory levels of antisemitic.

"the crying and bellyaching that if the jewish people don't have israel, they'll have to go back to countries that are hostile to them is not one i have sympathy for"

yeah we know you don't have sympathy for jews, that's very clear.

"jewish people, black people, and indigenous people all still live there and survive and fight back and thrive in solidarity together. and they DON'T participate in genocide against other groups of people"

yet again making the blatant assertion that it is JEWS who are committing genocide, and not the israeli government. also let's not pretend that. there's always been perfect solidarity between our communities. jews have not always been the best allies to indigenous people and black people, and vice versa.

"there are other places to turn to if you had any interest in NOT participating in western hegemonic white supremacy. but instead of staying and fighting and existing and thriving with other marginalized people who are at HIGHER risk than you in these countries, you argue that somehow jewish people should be exempt from this work that every other marginalized community does"

shouldn't have to point out that i don't argue that, but also this is, again, conspiracy theory levels of fucked up.

"bonkers to watch israel-supporters screaming and crying that if they don't colonize and genocide palestinians then jewish people can't safely exist"

yikes.

"if it were remotely true, israelis wouldn't have pulled out their dual citizenship passports and gone back to europe and the us to wait at a distance for their government to finish the genocide they started in 1948"

again, yikes.

there is a choice outside colonization - you can just fucking leave and go back to your home countries that are welcoming you with open arms cuz you still have dual citizenship. you don't have to commit genocide colonize people to exist."

more yikes.

"spacelazarwolf really wants to try and argue that they can't stop colonizing palestine cuz if they do, they have to go back to - checks notes - countries where a ton of people still live"

who is "they"?

"for some reason [spacelazarwolf] thinks that to avoid going through [genocide], jewish people need to be allowed to commit genocide themselves and eradicate palestinians"

once again lying abt me, and also openly saying that they believe it is jews who are committing genocide.

"fucking bonkers that he thinks he somehow has the right to commit genocide and colonize to avoid the situation other jewish people, indigenous people, and black people worldwide find themselves in. cowardly bitch baby behavior actually. like i'm sorry lots of other groups of colonized people, who have been subject to genocide and violence, and racism and are still undergoing it, has managed to NOT colonize other groups of people for their own gain."

bc jews are just inherently more evil than other marginalized ppl, right? we're just more prone to being selfish and hurting people? we're just sniveling whiny bitch babies who will turn around and stab you in the back, right?

"screaming and crying that 'we need to be allowed to genocide palestinians or otherwise we have to go back to the us, where we as white jewish people never have to actually deal with the things indigenous and black people there do' is disgusting genocidal behavior. the thought of actually being in solidarity with colonized people is repulsive to people like spacelazarwolf - that's why they all seek to justify colonial projects instead."

again, conspiracy theory levels of fucked.

at no point do i engage in anti-semitism. all i ever criticize is israel.

don't feel like i need to point out that this is not true.

he has repeatedly stated that israel has to exist, otherwise jewish people have to go back to the us, where indigenous people are being genocided.

cool lie! also fucked up thing to say!

i've said nothing about jewish pain and trauma. in fact, i have said on numerous occasions that jewish pain and trauma are very real and that they DO NOT justify. colonization.

mmmmmmmmmm nah. "whiny little bitch babies" is not saying that "jewish pain and trauma are very real." also oops you accidentally did dual loyalty again.

but spacelazarwolf is so rabidly racist he immediately began fearmongering about the bloodlust savage knocking at his door trying to kill him.

i'm on desktop or i would include that mike wazowski standing meme bc genuinely what the fuck.

anyway, i have no doubt that their support palestinians is genuine. that's great. but it is also incredibly clear that they hate jews, and that is going to be a huge detriment to their activism for palestinians, and they're not the only one this is happening with. people need to figure that shit out on their own instead of harassing and lying about jews online and perpetuating this kind of violently antisemitic rhetoric. bc this is like beyond fucked. i am tired of gentiles blatantly lying abt me so they can get away with saying horrendously antisemitic things to and about me. get your fucking shit together.

[ilikekidsshows]

hey I figure that you’re probably tired of talking about the Sentimonster nonsense but I genuinely still can’t stand that it’s an actual thing. The wildest thing about it is that I JOINED the fandom because of the Sentimonster theory, actually got excited for it and looked forward to hints, not believing the skeptics or the salters bc it didn’t seem like such a big deal—that is until I saw with my own eyes how SO MANY FANS said with their whole chest that, in “Ephemeral” Adrien HAD to be a Sentimonster or there was no other “sympathetic explanation” for why he didn’t de-akumatize himself or fight off Gabriel.

Seeing the victim blaming in real time was such a punch in the gut—and then they just kept on coming!! It finally hit me how damaging the entire thing because for the show as a whole. If even regular fans that weren’t even known for salting could so willingly disregard and ignore genuine abuse coping mechanisms in favor of magical BS… it was such a dark time. Abuse Apologism and victim blaming in a whole package

Sometimes, when I write about Miraculous, I pretend I'm writing about a show that only had three seasons. That's what the "zagulous fandom" tag is for; it's for posts that are about the parts of Miraculous that had Zag's executive control keeping Astruc in check. I also kinda accepted long ago that my blog's kind of a support blog for people who are against the Sentihuman concept.

When I first heard of the expanded Sentimonster theory, the one that went "all the rich kids are Sentimonsters", I instantly went: "You do realize how making victims of child abuse nonhumans with questionable rights minimizes their victimhood and excuses their abusers, right?" people told me I was making stuff up and whoopsie doo, the writers did exactly that.

Neither Gabriel nor Tomoe faced any consequences for abusing Adrien and Kagami because, after all, since they're Sentimonsters, the real abuse was that they didn't have their Amoks so giving them their Amoks resolves all their problems. The only abusive parent who gets acknowledged as such is Félix's dad, who is dead by the time we hear about any of this, because we can't have abusive parents face consequences for their actions because that might upset people or whatever excuses Astruc's giving for Gabriel's vindication now.

This also minimises all the affects of the abuse on the kids, since they can be handwaved away with: "They were just programmed that way." Kagami's bad social skills aren't because her mother isolated her, it's because she forgot to program Kagami with those skills. Félix's villainous behavior isn't because his mother is overly permissive with him, he was just programmed that way (by the eeeeevil Colt). Adrien isn't a people pleaser because he's repeating his abuse coping mechanisms with his overly controlling girlfriend to keep her happy the same way he did to his overly controlling father, he was just programmed to be the perfect doting son and boyfriend.

You'll notice how neatly this ties into the crew denying that Chloé was abused in any way ever by her clearly abusive mother. Chloé wasn't made into a Sentimonster, so we can't have her bad coping with her abuse be excused by "Sentimonster programming", so now the writers are just gaslighting the audience and saying: "Chloé wasn't mistreated by her parents which caused her to act to out to get attention (which she literally stated to be her motive in season 3), in fact, she's the one who's been terrorizing her poor, innocent father and he needs to be protected from this naturally occuring evil hellspawn."

All child abuse in this show gets excused.

Of course, now the writers have an added reason to make sure Adrien's abuse gets excused in particular: because they made Marinette benefit from it. As I said, Adrien is repeating abuse coping mechanisms learned from dealing with his father to keep Marinette happy. He's always prioritizing her feelings and never brings up his own problems, and this is good for Marinette, because she can just enjoy having a perfect boyfriend who caters to her every need and doesn't have problems of his own or with the ways she treats him (for all she knows). She's even maintaining this status quo by lying about Gabriel to Adrien, so Adrien won't get upset (and have emotional needs that she would need to help him with). Either we have to excuse Adrien's abuse, or we have to admit Marinette is benefitting from the fact that Adrien was abused, and even taking advantage with the way she makes no effort to improve their communication on her end, preferring to spy on Adrien and lie to him instead of just talking to him like an equal.

The show writers are also allergic to following through on their creative decisions, is what I think. They put all these different victims of child abuse and neglect in the show, and then dehumanized these children in different ways so that they wouldn't actually need to say anything about that abuse they wrote in and they can instead pretend it was never there. This is why I also think that, no matter how much the show's defenders insist the story isn't over yet, we will never be getting a proper resolution to the Sentinonsense.

[matt-roseheart]

I 'Lava' you

A short murder drones fanfic based on @dronebiscuitbat 's characters from their rp blog, @ask-elliot-doorman-fam, Tera and Kiara, Rad is here too :P

Kiara paced around the hideout cave, nervously fiddling with her fingers. "What if she doesn't like it? What if she thinks its too cheesy? what if-" Her rant is cut off by Rad trying to calm her down.

"Kia chill, this is Tera you're talking about, sure she may be tough, but every tough person i know has a soft and squishy side that loves this stuff" He says, as he's on the couch tuning a ukulele. "So, lets go over the plan one more time before shes back from checking the perimiter"

Kiara takes a deep breath, which doesn't help much to calm her nerves, "Okay, we're here becase you are 'practicing' for the short-story musical Mr.Roseheart is hosting,"

"Which is thankfully real, couldn't think of an exuse otherwise" He adds.

"Mhm, and hopefully she'll agree to sing along, oh robo-god i hope she'll sing along, she has to for this to work" Kia was nervous about that part, Tera had a beautiful voice, but only ever sang in the privacy of her room. Hopefully the hideout would be enough to bring her out of her shell a bit, no chances of others overhearing her here.

Before Kiara could linger on that thought, there was a sudden whoosh at the entrance, meaning Tera was back. Kia rushed to a seat, put on headphones, and brought up her laptop to a blank page, pretending to be writing something. No stories would be written today, only some of her thoughts going a million miles an hour, dont screw this up please work i have to tell her.

"okay, outside is clear, so Rad, why did you bring a ukulele again?" Tera asked, as she sat down on the other side of the couch.

"Oh, you know the musical Mr.Roseheart is gonna be hosting?" Wait, did she even know about that?

"The music teacher? Uh, yeah i think I've heard about that. Isn't it about a bunch of short-stories instead of one big one? My dad seems pretty interested in going." N had seemed exited when he heard about it, even wanted to audition.

Oh thank robo-god

"Yup, a friend of mine that auditioned asked if i could help with their story, so im here to practice"

"Ok, cool"

"And i was hoping you could help."

"Oh? with what? Guitar?"

"Vocals, i struggle on my own when theres multiple characters singing"

Oh no, she did not like the sound of that.

"I am NOT going anywhere near a stage and singing, no way!" Tera growled, which made kiara more nervous.

"No no no, just for practice, only here. The only audience being Kia" Rad said, as he motioned over to where Kiara was sitting. "The part I need you to sing is basically the same line over and over a few times anyway, please?" He was looking up at her with puppy eyes, hoping to convince her.

Tera hesitated for a moment, normally she wouldn't, but in this case, it was just the three of them, no prying ears to worry about, so why not. "Ugh, fine. But if a video of this starts floating around, you're dead. whats the song?"

"Do you know the song 'Lava'?" She should, Kiara made sure to show her, hoping Tera would listen to it for this.

"That cheesy lovesong between two volcanoes? Yeah, i think Kia showed that to me a while ago"

Good, so far the plan is working "Cool, I'll be the narrator, so all you need to sing is the volcano's part. Do you know the words?"

"He basically says the same thing over and over, so yeah, whenever you're ready." Wow, Kiara was suprised, this is going a lot smoother than she thought it would.

With Tera ready, Rad began to play, and sing suprisingly well, like he's practiced before....

"A long long time ago, there was a volcano, living all alone in the middle of the sea."

"He sat high above his bay, watching all the couples play, and wishing that he had someone too."

"And from his lava came, this song of hope that he sang out loud, every day for years and years" With her part coming up, Tera cleared her throat and began.

"I have a dream I hope will come true, that you're here with me, and I'm here with you, I wish that the earth sea and the sky up above will send me someone to lava"

"Years of singing all alone turned his lava into stone, until he was on the brink of extinction"

"But little did he know that living in the sea below, another volcano was listening to his song"

"Every day she heard his tune her lava grew and grew because she believed his song was meant for her"

"Now she was so ready to finally meet him above the sea as he sang his song of hope for the last time"

"I have a dream I hope will come true, that you're here with me, and I'm here with you, I wish that the earth sea and the sky up above will send me someone to lava"

At that part, Kiara began to remove her headphones and close her laptop, nervously making her way over behind Tera.

"Rising from the sea below stood a lovely volcano, looking all around but she could not see him"

"He tried to sing to let her know that she was not there alone, but with no lava his song was all gone"

"He filled the sea with his tears as he watched his dreams dissapear as she remembered what his song meant to her"

Tera was about to sing the next part, thinking nothing of it, until someone else began to sing, making her jump as she turned around to see Kiara.

"I have a dream I hope will come true, that you're here with me, and I'm here with you, I wish that the earth sea and the sky up above will send me someone to lava"

Tera was caught off guard, by both her singing and the fact that Kia reached out to hold her hand that was resting on the arm of the couch. Theres no way, is she....

As Tera realised what she was doing, Rad continued the song.

"Oh they were so happy to finally meet above the sea, all together now their lava grew and grew"

"No longer are they all alone with aloha as their new home, and when you visit them this is what they sing" Tera, now holding onto Kiara's hand, hoping this wasn't a dream, continued with her.

"I have a dream i hope will come true"

"That you'll grow old with me"

"And I'll grow old with you"

"We thank the earth sea and the sky we thank too"

"I Lava you"

"I Lava you"

"I Love you"

Tera's face was all blush, lighting up the cave with a lavender glow, along with Kia's equally bright white blush. They sat there staring at eachother in awe for a minute before Kia broke the silence.

"Was that too cheesy?"

Tera stood and said, "Not at all, you weren't practicing for the musical, were you?" she asked looking over at thad.

"Nope, this was all her idea" He motioned over towards Kiara.

"So did you like it?" She asked nervously.

"I loved it" Tera said, before placing a kiss on Kia's forehead, nearly sending her into a reboot.

"Oh! I think I need to sit down" Tera sat back down, with Kia sitting next to her.

As Tera put her arm around Kiara, she let out a sigh of relief, everything went perfectly, and she couldn't be happier.

[jorisjurgen]

World of Twelve dashboard simulator #2

👁️ katarynadance follow

Freaks may say i want to fuck antonio sadisski from the bontarian boufbowl Love Arrow team. I'm freaks. I mean im freaks. I mean im freaks.

🌌 somethingquietplace

I wouldn't go that far, but NGL, I don't know how one might not develop an affinity for him... Very charming man! He might be the second greatest player after Khan.

Then again, my opinion on who the second greatest player is changes all the time, haha.

🌸 sadidaskickshoe follow

Ehh khan's been dead for centuries....! Let it go. I think he's cool, but thinking nobody will ever be better is crazy...

🌌 somethingquietplace

He developed most of the techniques still used to this day, just so you know. Visit a museum perhaps. It might be helpful?

🎃 sacriblo0ody follow

average khan fan showing how much criticism of his favourite misogynyst he can withstand.

🌌 somethingquietplace

And you're an average 16 year old child with Very Important Opinions trying to educate me nicely.

🧀 cheesefuckersupreme follow

Seeing somethingquietplace and sadidaskickshoe on the same post is kind of terrifying.

#worlds most toxic crossover? #20 callout posts gang real?

(1,582 notes)

🧀 cheesefuckersupreme follow

Guys they both blocked me ASFHFKDKGJSJ

Do i get a boufbowl fandom badge of honor now????? Did i make it in life?????

🦠 gorebludsac follow

I don't think it's a nice way to post, considering one of them is like neurodivergent and a minor, and the other is tumblr user somethingquietplace (diagnosis self explanatory)

🧀 cheesefuckersupreme follow

I'm sorry yeah i forgot that they're both diagnosed.

#ngl i feel bad kinda for both of them

(34 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

.

I hate adventuring with other people. Just being there and knowing I'll never be their friend. I want to say something, be in the conversation, but I never know what to say, and everyone already knows each other and

Well even when they don't yet know each other, obviously they'll prefer anyone else over me. They'll give up on trying to talk to me.

It's so weird... I hate everyone. Everyone has stupid interests and tastes. Just braindead things. Romance and fucking and fashion. And all of them have normal lives and normal families and once in a while they ask something about mine and I don't know what to say at all. And I want to be liked. Even if I have zero respect for anyone I want to like me. Is it weird?

I guess I'm just sad because I don't have that innate talent to pretend like I care about other people. Or maybe I wish someone actually liked me besides my family.

#delete later #...I really like this ''forbid others from reblogging a post'' function they added recently #When my dad dies I think I will finally kill myself I guess. #not osu #Honestly I can't tolerate anyone at my work. I hate them all and want them dead. #And I can't tolerate anyone close to my age. #They all insult me. Constantly. You know. #So the only people who like me are my family. #Its neverending. I can't take it anymore. #I think me only liking my family might be a self fulfilling prophecy but i don't care. #or so I think.

(2 notes)

🌸 sadidaskickshoe follow

people who post about their family issues on here are weird.... My brother isn't here but just the idea of him seeing anything on my phone makes me so scared to write anything!! 😵‍💫

#temp

(1 note)

🌌 somethingquietplace

I wish people would refrain from obvious vagueblogging about my deleted posts.

#delete later #not osu

(284 notes)

🌸 sadidaskickshoe

people who stalk other peoples blogs are so weird!! I think it's easier to follow one another. Because this is getting embarrassing for us both XD

🌌 somethingquietplace

Ok.

#Mostly I am following you because you said you liked Khan Karkass. #Even if you don't have good opinions (ones I agree with) on him.

(1243 notes)

🦠 gorebludsac follow

A second mad xelor explosive machine has hit the tumblr boufbowl fandom

#those.two.... are mutuals now. #i canrt stop laughing there are tears rolling down my face #remember when kickshoe told me in explicit detail how she wanted me to kill myself #or how quiet typed out whole 40 paragraphs of threats #and ended that post with ''youre wasting my time away from work'' as if hes not termianlly online too #this is historical for me and nobody else

(46 notes)

🪰 maldemal follow

She throw dice on my tabletop til i eacflipcity

🕳️ eviltreeman follow

Collect my Thirsty Branches

(459 notes)

🎭 syxxxxxaenika follow

Bruh someone tried to kill the prince again and missed. How the fuck does a fifth assassin in a row fail at killing the prince of brakmar!!!! I can't live in this stupid country anymore

🌸 sadidaskickshoe

Even if things suck i dont think killing royals is the answer..... 😰

(109 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

Was in a store recently. The prices were disgusting, and the worst of all, the Ministry of Moral Purity wants to propose a tax for being negative about the government... Are we in Brakmar now? Is this Brakmar we're in?

I have something very taxable to say but shall refrain.

🎭 syxxxxxaenika follow

Bontarians when something bontarian happens bontarianly in bonta: is this fucking brakmar

unlike you, I have the free speech to wish death on our royalty. I can say freely that I hope the prince of brakmar kills himself.

🌌 somethingquietplace

It's literally so easy to hate you even besides the holier than thou attitude... Your city has lava. Would a good place to live with good people have lava. Would a good place with good people have invented something called "the Brakmarian burial"?

🎭 syxxxxxaenika follow

You can't be saying that white-blue boy

#WHERE DID A RANDOM BONTARIAN LEARN A 500 YEAR OLD GANG TERM FOR BODY DISPOSAL?? #WHAT???

(24295 notes)

🪄 pantypervert69 follow

CALLOUT POST:

@/xellymelly has been selling re-bought goods from The Mad Xelor. Do NOT buy from her. Not only are they dangerous, they are also wildly past their expiration date. DO NOT USE ANYTHING YOU BOUGHT FROM HER. IT WILL KILL YOU.

🌌 somethingquietplace

If you have items made by The Mad Xelor, Kerubim Crepin from Bonta's Aux Tresors de Kerubim shop has a recycling program for all victims of this scam. He even gives out rewards for all the items you bring in.

I implore you to consider taking the things you bought to him, and making the world a safer place. (And "★bring some magic to your life★")

#not osu #I can personally vouch for this store's quality. It's very well known among some circles around here.

(4838 notes)

🚬 pigpigeazer follow

Everyone always jokes about the bad parts of classes but nobody ever talks about how generous the pandawa are, how honest iops are, how lively ecaflips are, and how empathetic sacriers are

🎃 sacriblo0ody follow

literally im always saying that!

🤖 athefogenesis follow

Except it always comes at the expense of mentioning that their religion makes them ignorant, addicts, or drives them to self harm?? We need to bully people who are hardcore about class tenets harder. You're destroying yourself for some all powerful reality-warping creature that doesnt give a shit about you

🤹 lancerclown420 follow

People like you give us atheist classes such a bad name. Everyone and everything in the world has a purpose, both those who follow a deity, and those who follow a primciple and

Actually they're a sufokian supremacist so nvmmmm

🧙 hupperschlongartor follow

THE NOTES ARE A FREE BLOCKLIST 💀

(637 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

.

#not osu #delete later #the thing is that. I never stopped hating him for ruining my life. #But the amount of hatred i feel ebbs and flows. Does it make sense? #This is stupid. So stupid... Like #oh nooo papycha... you neglected me as a child to the point of incurable mental diseases... #They would be better off if I was dead honestly #i need me and my dad to die. #I need everyone to die actually

(2 notes)

🦞 foggerfish follow

Apparently there's a big thing going on in demigod history community because Goultard (you know, the 4847372882843 or whatever year old son of Iop) undied again and was spotted somewhere around Astrubian border.

👽 cvt3-r41nb0w follow

MY WEDDING IS BACK ON NOBODY WILL HOLD ME BACK. He already married witches i can be the fourth

🗣️ thedarkwitchfromthatbook-is-gay follow

Isn't he gay

😈 osawhip666 follow

isn't he a mass murderer

🌌 somethingquietplace

Finally a reason to kill myself?

#I have to work with demigods a lot so... #Wish me luck in avoiding him like plague? #I had horrible experiences with him in the past #but talking about it would definitely lead someone to finding out who I am so... #I hope he kills himself and it sticks for once.

(447 notes)

🪐 8lunarcoeur8 follow

Heyyy

I wish people would stop rb'ing quiet's boufbowl gifsets considering the fact hes racist, misogynist, a freak, a bonta apologist (goes with the racism), has a fucking Maid, and likes some really weird things.

At least kickshoe has the excuse of being like a teen but this fucking guy is just something else.

🧙 hupperschlongartor follow

whatd he do? 🥺

🪐 8lunarcoeur8 follow

Says weird things about brakmar (x, x, x, x, x, x, x, and mooooore), is a freak (x, x), and a misogynist (x, x, x) (STOP STANNING KHAN KARKASS) also he's weird about huppermages and self described his class as an antihuppermage and even though it was like 200 years ago hes a wholeass immortal man and also is Still a weirdo about ecaflips.

(385 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

RE: the newest cancellation

I don't care about your feelings and I have nothing to apologize for.

#not osu

(1842 notes)

🦴 skellythievin follow

Not me honoring sram by stealing bones from the graveyard 😭

🦴 ougigou-woof-woof follow

LEGENDARY POST

#WHY DO I HAVE THE SAME PFP AS THE BONE STEALING SRAM

(59227 notes)

🌸 sadidaskickshoe

Yaaa antonio sadisski won as always!! They should put sadidas like him in the hall of heroes for our country ᕙ⁠ ⁠(⁠°⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠°⁠ ⁠~⁠)

👯 mirarynnnw follow

He sucks

🌸 sadidaskickshoe

Hi kill yourself :) /gen

#i was banned from using my phone but ill risk it all again to say that nobody will miss you!

(12 notes)

[evilwickedme]

So I did just block the anon who told me to get help bc of my magneto was right title which, more than anything else, tells me they're not familiar with the comics

But also. Trying to tell me, a Jewish comics fan who specifically specializes in the Jewish history of comic books, that Magneto is antisemitic, actually, because he was made into a Jew by a "gentle" in 1975 (which isn't even true), is so wildly a misrepresentation of what his character means in fucking 2023 that it baffled me. Like I considered answering the ask because it was like, ok this is a teachable moment. But like also fuck that guy so.

But here's the thing about magneto is that obviously he's wrong, in that killing people is wrong and in some cases he's basically represented as a terrorist. But he's also obviously right, in that it's literally been proven in the house of x storyline that mutants will never be accepted, will always be hunted and hated, and mutants can and should defend themselves against that. I'll remind you that, although genosha was far from a success, the basic idea of mutants having their own island country is essentially the exact fucking same as krakoa, which is the current wildly successful x men storyline!!!!

And that's ignoring the fact that the magneto was right slogan was born when magneto was dead, and wasn't meant to support any particular action he made, but rather general ideas as I presented them above, and then beyond that, the fact that many Jews in particular identify with the slogan because we've been persecuted and hated for being different for three thousand fucking years, and that in 2023 in particular, after seven years of an increasing rise of antisemitism, having that as the title of my blog is just pointing out the fucking obvious

(this also leaves out the context of when I, in particular, started using the title, and the content of my blog at the time, and the fact that I've had this particular pfp for about as long, and the way all three of those tie in together, but I have no doubt that the person who sent me this ask is not a long time follower of this blog. About two thirds of my followers either already followed me or followed me because of that phase in my life though, and the rest have most likely seen me refer to it multiple times, so that context is not lost on most of them)

Basically. Magneto is a character who, at first, was not very complex. But no character can stick around for sixty years without becoming complex and taking on meaning that was not necessarily intended by the original creator. At this point magneto has been a Jewish Holocaust survivor for nearly five decades, as this anon themself pointed out. He's been handled by Jewish and goyische authors alike. And pretending he's purely an antisemitic character rather than one that many Jews actively cherish and identify with and show in so many ways that you, yourself, are not Jewish, and don't have any idea what you're talking about just so you can send anonymous hate my way...

Well. Point is. Magneto was right.

[natsubeatsrock]

Lisanna Makes Me Hate My Fandom More

Is Lisanna overrated by her fans?

No.

I can't believe that I even have to argue this.

And yet here we are.

I even debated the necessity of this post. Do we need another post saying fandom doesn't value Lisanna? Do we really need ANOTHER one?

Well, I need to get back into this writing on this blog somehow.

I reblogged a post about how fans worship characters you dislike some time ago. Someone reblogged my post all but saying they don't like how Lisanna's elevated over others because of filler moments by her fans. I know the person is a Nalu shipper, but I want to keep this about Lisanna. I have to imagine they think fans of Lisanna elevate her over Lucy. I'm not really interested in talking about that. All I care about is that argument about Lisanna's importance.

Part of me agrees with this. Much of the noise made about Lisanna comes from overestimating her relevance before coming back. This post wouldn't exist if I didn't like her, at the very least. However, as I've mentioned, she wasn't built up like multiple other characters or elements in the series.

Do I think we're on the same wavelength about this idea? Almost certainly not. If you think otherwise, remember that they ship Nalu.

But why make a post about this?

Honestly, this post has been on the back burner for years. I've posted it now as a prelude to another post I've been working on. Despite talking about Lisanna almost too much, I don't think I've emphasized something enough.

I've been talking about how fans handle Lisanna, given canon. I happen to be more generous than others are. Though, I have the opposite view of the situation. I don't think fandom does enough with Lisanna. Especially considering everything we've gotten from her.

I've done this a few times, but entertain me. Put Natsu & the Dragon Egg and everything the anime added to the side for a moment. (I need to talk about that special one of these days.) What has Fairy Tail actually told us about Lisanna?

Lisanna is the younger sister of two fan-favorite characters, Mirajane and Elfman. She'd had a close relationship with the series protagonist before the series started. (Yes, I'm considering Natsu as the protagonist for now.) About two years before Lucy met Natsu, she was presumed dead after a mission didn't go well. However, she was actually transported to another dimension. She spent two years working with an alternate version of Fairy Tail, pretending to be their version of Lisanna.

I know that's only a paragraph's worth of information. Admittedly, canon doesn't show a lot of this information. You're not getting the same focus on Lisanna as you would any member of the Strongest Team. Heck, you're not getting the same focus on her as people like Juvia or Cana at nearly any point of Fairy Tail. We've seen more of Mira and Elfman individually after Lisanna returned than just Lisanna over the entire series.

But let's break down each sentence of that paragraph.

Are fans doing a whole lot with Lisanna's relationship with her siblings? Are people writing about the Strauss kids as siblings? What do they think of each other? How has their relationship been affected by their experiences before and since joining Fairy Tail?

Are fans doing a whole lot with Lisanna's relationship with Natsu? I know most people dismiss their past relationships as currently irrelevant. However, it doesn't seem as though Mashima's forgotten about it. What about their past relationship affects their current relationship? What would a partnership between them look like at this point in the series? (I say this knowing this isn't very likely with the sequel's current events.) Is it possible that they could become closer than they are now in canon?

Are fans doing a lot with the mission that supposedly killed Lisanna? How does this affect those close to Lisanna? How do they treat her once she's back? How does the rest of the guild think of the situation?

Are fans doing a lot with Lisanna's time with Edolas? She spent two years with alternate versions of nearly every character in Fairy Tail. How does this affect her views of characters she didn't know before going to Edolas? How does she feel about Edolas and Edolas Fairy Tail? Does she resent being away from Earthland for so long or miss being in Edolas?

As far as I can tell, most people don't address these questions. People don't seem really interested in trying to read into Lisanna's relationships with her siblings or Natsu beyond potential shipping drama. People aren't interested in how Lisanna being in Edolas impacts anyone or anything in the series.

Now, people care about answering these questions. I've talked about these things quite a bit since Fairy Tail ended. My stories involving Lisanna in-series treat her time in Edolas as formative. And I've read several stories that provide answers to these questions from a number of perspectives.

However, most fans don't write about Lisanna thinking about these things. Has fandom moved past the kind of Lisanna that maliciously sabotages Lucy's place in the guild? Can't say. However, they're not doing a whole lot positive with her now.

"Why does it matter? Mashima obviously decided not to do a lot with Lisanna. Why would fans care about a character the series didn't do much with?"

The funny thing is that it's actually the opposite. Fans do (and should) care about Lisanna because there weren't canon answers to the questions surrounding her. Fans are interested in how these questions could be answered.

And frankly, this wouldn't be the first time. Mashima has done hilariously little with Meredy. But fans love her and create stuff for her all the time. She's one of my favorite minor characters to ship.

Heck, we got more of Levy because fans wanted to see more of her after Phantom Lord. The anime got Changeling to introduce Levy before Phantom Lord. However, there wasn't much else to her relevance to the series before and during that arc. It wasn't until the Fantasia arc that Levy became more plot-relevant and active. Mashima's gone on record to say fans are the reason why.

Fans have argued that Lisanna should have stayed dead for years. I've argued against this numerous times before. I've never understood why this matters to people. Of all the death fakeouts, why is Lisanna's such a big deal for fans? Mashima's written sloppier comebacks for characters. He's brought back characters with less importance. Why is Lisanna where fandom draws the line?

"What else do you expect from the Nalu vermin?"

Calm down, Chris. Of course, shipping has something to do with this. Nalu was always going to be popular with fans. Nalu is synonymous with the fandom. I've seen bias against Nali at work, even where it doesn't make sense.

However, you're not seeing the anti-Gruvia crowd write stories about Juvia being tortured and/or staying dead en masse. The issue with most isn't even with Juvia herself. Isolate her from Gruvia, and the problem is solved. The anti-Gruvia crowd falls into two camps: put Juvia with someone else or keep her away from Gray. Unless we're willing to argue that either is equivalent to killing Juvia, we don't have a discussion. (What day is today, again?)

The closest thing fandom's come up with for Lisanna is Bixanna. Unlike many ships, it feels like the fandom exists to give Lisanna someone to love. In fact, there's a small gap between AO3 stories with Bixanna and Nali. However, much of Bixanna's stories have the ship as a side attraction. Nali stories usually focus on Nali. That's telling on its own.

One last thing before the end. It feels irresponsible to end this post without making a suggestion to write Lisanna. Is there a good way to write Lisanna?

Incidentally, the anime gave us a solid approach. Lisanna has a tendency to tease others. We see it with Natsu at different ages in Natsu and the Dragon Egg. We see it with Elfman on Tenrou Island. If you're wondering, that crack about marrying Natsu aligns with that. That was also in the original chapter, so it's not without precedent from Mashima.

If you're writing Lisanna, you don't have to fall into many pitfalls other writers do. She doesn't have to be evil. She doesn't need to be possessive of Natsu. She doesn't have to be Mirajane's little shipping gremlin. (The fact that this is the best of these worries me.) She doesn't have to be the sacrificial lamb. At least make her a fun character to read.

In Conclusion:

Drink your respect Lisanna juice. This is not a request. This is a command.

[billowingangel]

Welcome ✧

I've been into hetalia since 2016 and for a while I tried to pretend I didn't like it....And I'm tired of living that lie! So I'm back to thinking, loving, obsessing, and writing about Hetalia.

I also block very freely and I'd rather people be 18+ to interact (since occasionally I may post nsfw/nsft which I will always tag)

I'm currently working on a few fanfictions which you can find on AO3 and FF.net

My favorite character is Canada 🍁 And I ship him with pretty much anyone...and I mean anyone...If that makes you uncomfortable please feel free to block this blog or the tags associated with ships you are uncomfortable with. I may at times reblog problematic ships, I'll add tags for the ship and a cw for the problematic element of the ship. Please take care of your mental health and curate your online space to what is best for you ♡ ˎˊ˗

more information below the canada picture

Wow, you clicked continue reading so here's more annoying stuff about me and this blog (^_^)

I spam reblog, mostly fanart (so many in this fandom are so talented!) and miscellaneous things (memes, random shit, writing tips, etc).

I'll occasionally post some of my own fanfictions (drabbles or links to them)

I also will post my rambling silly thoughts. I have decided to let myself loose and be as annoying authentic as possible here.

Also I will do my best to tag content/trigger warnings but I may forget (memory of a goldfish) so if I do please let me know

Here are some tags I use on this blog to organize (still working on what tags to use) ᯓ★

#art reblog ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡): self explanatory

#hetalia fanart ✨: reblogs of hetalia fanart

#canon tbh: posts that I see as accurate to character's personalities, how I perceive them, and how I think they'd act

#hetalia fanfiction:

#hetalia meme:

#positivity: posts and reblogs that are positiive

#misc: posts that are surprisingly not related to hetalia

#me core: reblogs that I really relate to

#fanfic imagine: imagining a fanfiction and maybe i'll write or finish the idea

#fanfic in progress: my thoughts during the process of writing fanfiction, debating whether I should do this or that, talking about what I plan to do, blah blah

#my fanfic: fanfiction that I have written, usually a link to ao3 but may also be to ff.net

I also mostly tag hetalia characters as hws so if you look up hws canada (for example) you'll be able to see all posts about that character

Some of my favorite posts of mine ┈─★

Now more about me which is why you're reading this (I'm just kidding)

Call me angel or anything really I don't care what I'm called (ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ)

Also please feel free to message me!! I love talking to people but I get a bit hestitant about initiating. My discord is billowingangel if you want to talk there!

I'm 20 years old and I go by she/her pronouns and I'm a lesbian I love me some boobs what can I say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I may be a raging homosexual but I'm also a raging hetaliansexual (joke), I am attracted to so many fictional male characters and shockingly a ton of them are from hetalia (shoot me dead)

I love hetalia if that isn't obvious, it's on my brain a probably disturbing amount what can I say I'm mentally ill. I also like other anime (demon slayer <333, jujutsu kaisen, the witch and the beast, parasyte, etc), doctor who (so happy there's a new season), yuri manga!!, and other shit. I love horrors and thrillers! I rarely watch romantic comedies but I love reading romance in fanfiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I'm working on my own book (probably my 20th book) but I'm hoping to actually finish this one.

I am also working on multiple fanfictions: red means it's completed

off the grid: canada slightly snaps and goes on vacation lol

???:idk what to call it, america, england, and france are all fighting for canada's love and he's oblivious

unhealthy obsession: another country becomes obsessed with canada

Falling for Canada: multiple rarepair oneshots with Canada

My first omegaverse 0.0

a really stupid horror drabble that I posted

amecan week 2024

And I believe that's it~ Maybe I'll add my favorite ships

[luna13e-blog]

Rosekiller. Not really any discernible TW but I suck at tagging

-----

Evan is throwing pebbles at the lake when he hears steps getting closer. He turns his head up with a grin to say hello to Barty, just for that grin to disappear instantly.

Barty looks down at him with that void expression that only could meant things with his father had went rough.

"Don't give me that look", Barty scowls.

Evan lowers his eyes in silence, looking at the rock in his hand instead, tracing the softened edges with the fingers of his other hand. Barty sits beside him, chin resting on his knees and arms around his legs.

Evan throws the pebble into the lake. One, two, three, four jumps before it sinks in the water. He makes a gesture with his hand and the pebble flies from the lake right into his palm. He waits for a comment, for Barty to say anything, but after a minute of silence he throws the pebble again. With force this time. The rock flies some meters and sinks in the water. Not bouncing once.

"Can I hug you?", Evan asks, still looking at the place where tiny waves mark where the pebble had sank.

"I don't need a hug", Barty replies defensively, looking as well to the circles in the water.

"Thing is", Evan moves his hand again, the pebble flying back to his hand as it has done before, "I'm not asking if you need one, I'm asking if I can".

"It's a free world, do whatever the fuck you want, Rosier."

Evan turns to look at the boy, who didn't look back at him. He frowns, biting his bottom lip. He weighs the options in his head. "I don't fancy trying to hug you just to be hexed, Crouch"

Barty turns to look at him, with a little frown in his forehead. "Do you want to hug me?"

"No, I'm just asking if I can do things I don't want to do", Evan shakes his head with half a smile. "Yes, I want to."

"...why?", Barty asks suspiciously.

"Because my hugs are amazing, you can ask Dorcas about it", he smiles with that cocky expression of his, "and I believe you deserve one."

"I don't deser-"

"Shut up, Crouch. I'm not asking your opinion on the matter. Not that whatever you say has ever make me changed my mind, has it?", he grins ignoring Barty's huffing. "So, can I?"

"Don't pretend for me to hug you back", Barty answers and that's all Evan needs to kneel and drag him to his chest with one arm.

It isn't sweet or tender. He squeezes hard, Barty's shoulder and his knee digging in him. Barty doesn't move, but he doesn't push him away either, so Evan takes it as a permission to wrap his other arm around him and cradle him into his chest. The position is awkward as Barty remains hugging his legs but he moves his head to hide it in Evan's broad chest, breathing deeply in while a slight tremble curses through his body.

People have taught Evan over the last fourteen years that in these occasions one should say things are going to be okay. But he knows he can't say that, he doesn't know if things are going to be okay. He fears they won't. So as he closes his eyes and tilts his head to rest his forehead over Barty's crown, nose buried in his dark hair, he says the only thing he can say for certain.

"I'm here for you. I am always going to be here".

~~~~~~

Notes: I keep trying to write shorter things. I don't really know if I'm succeeding or not. Also, this is apparently a collection of glimpses over those two through their years in Hogwarts. I like to explore the little pieces that made their bond something unbreakable. Who knows, maybe I'll keep writing these.

Since you lovely people keep liking and reblogging, let me introduce you to this post sister: