#tw: brief rape mention

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

Ok so might accidentally end up doxxing myself with this one but here we go…

The Himboification of Dick Grayson, and Why It Sucks From A Gypsy Perspective

Warning: this is a long one! Also tw for brief mentions of Dick’s canonical SA/rapes, and discussions of purity cultures.

And disclaimer: none of this is intended to slut-shame anyone, so hopefully it doesn’t come across like that. I’m just hoping to explain the weird sexualisation of gypsies in the media, vs our more conservative attitude to sex. This also isn’t meant to shame anyone or tell you how you must imagine Dick Grayson - if you like dark skinned, more-fem Dick, then you keep on enjoying that! This is just what I’ve noticed as someone who is a gypsy, and some patterns I’ve seen in how Dick is portrayed and received.

So, I have a lot of problems with the depiction/perception of Dick Grayson, and particularly the hyper-sexualisation we see. I am not alone in this, and I know it’s something which has been discussed a fair bit in the past.

Honestly, I don’t even know where a lot of this came from? It’s only really in the past decade or so that we start to see it emerge properly in canon; prior to this, whilst it was agreed that Dick is good looking, he was kind of able to get around as a normal guy, and was praised a lot more for his capabilities and athleticism than for his looks. But with the New 52, there seemed to be this shift where Dick is really reduced to his looks. The Grayson/Spyral comics are particularly guilty of this: so many times we see Dick called an idiot (even if somewhat affectionally), sexualised (even by teen-aged girls when he is in his twenties), and reduce himself to his looks (Dick himself even says something along the lines of ‘It’s a good thing I’m pretty’). You can argue that the whole point of Spyral is that Dick was undercover, but it’s something we still see today (I’m thinking the 2025 Valentine’s Day Damian storyline). We can dismiss this as being ‘out of character’, but with how it’s been a gradually accepted part of DC canon over the last decade especially, I don’t know how long we can reasonably make that excuse.

The gypsy perspective isn’t necessarily the main reason I hate this, it’s just one which I feel capable of offering. (if you’re new here, hi, I’m a traveller/gypsy/showman/whatever you want to call me from a fairground and circus family in the UK. I’ve always stuck to fairgrounds myself but a lot of my family were/are still with the circus so I’m not an idiot and it’s all closely related anyway. I also grew up speaking Romani so there’s that.)

Other reasons I hate it include: the double standards of objectifying Dick being treated as almost acceptable because Dick is a man; Dick as an SA/rape survivor; and the fact that it’s bloody stupid because Dick is a highly competent vigilante and detective - a partner of Batman, then Batman himself, who even on his sick days is solving cold cases for fun. He is a genius ffs.

But anyway, onto the potentially doxxing gypsy perspective.

I know that Dick’s ‘gypsy rep’ has been a bit touch and go over the years. Grayson’s run is quite infamous for her handling of this (the whole internalised racism she gave him during his Tevis mob era, and Bruce’s stereotyping in Gotham Knights still makes me feel icky), and it’s only recently that it’s really been discussed again, mostly being ignored by writers in between. However, I’ve also mentioned before that to me, the writer with the most accurate representation is ironically Morrison (because he wasn’t trying). The thing is, even if writers have kind of circumnavigated the whole ‘gypsy’ thing (a term I use because it’s common in the UK, and is one Dick uses himself, alongside ‘carney’ which is the American English version of the British ‘showman’, a subtype of “gypsy”), it’s been canon since Day One that Dick is from the circus. And due to how circuses work, especially with the hereditary nature and how it was more common for the gypsy family who ran the circus to perform in the 40s when Dick was introduced, even if it wasn’t explicitly stated, Dick Grayson has kind of canonically (or at the very least, subtextually) been a gypsy since his introduction.

So now that bit of house keeping is out of the way, why does the himboification of Dick Grayson really annoy me, as a gypsy/showman/carney myself?

So, the first issue I have is really the exoticism. There’s been a large push especially from fan-artists (though it has been very subtlety reflected in canon) to have Dick portrayed with darker skin, to more “accurately” portray him as Romani (spoiler: this is not accurate). There is a fantastic post which explains this further, but it’s actually kind of colourist to say that Dick Grayson is whitewashed. I’m a full gypsy, not a diddakoi or anything, and I’m pasty as fuck. Sure, my dad was often mistaken as South Asian in his youth, as his family are all very olive-skinned and tan dark in the summer, but my mum is white as a sheet (much to her own father’s annoyance) and I take after her. This is the case for a lot of us, especially in the North of Europe. And yet, I am still ethnically a gypsy. Dick does not lose his ‘gypsy card’ for being white. And the fact that many of the fandom view it as necessary for Dick to have a darker complexion to fit this perception of what a Romani person looks like (especially since this perception largely comes from gorjas who’ve never knowingly met a gypsy before in their lives) is not only inaccurate, but kind of problematic. I don’t mind seeing a darker Dick Grayson, but it’s how people act like he has to be dark skinned to be Romani which is frankly just incorrect.

This is doubly problematic when people use his being Romani to exoticise and sexualise Dick. Like with Esmerelda in the Hunchback of Notre Dame, I’ve often seen the fandom (and even canon, to some degree) use Dick’s heritage to make him seem other, and almost remove some barriers for proper conduct (i.e. be overly affectionate, etc). We see this kind of sexualisation with a lot of non-white characters, like Talia for example, and I think that the push for a visibly non-white, exotic Dick Grayson does fall in line with the same kind of racist hyper-sexualisation we see there. Alternatively, maybe this idea of a ‘sexy gypsy from the circus’ has its roots somewhat in real life, but actually results from major misunderstandings: until the sixties, it was common for circuses to have peep shows, with girls outside advertising it in their underwear; the misunderstanding comes in that these girls were not gypsies themselves (see my next point) but hired gorja staff who worked for or alongside us. It’s not unreasonable, then, that a child visiting the circus (and thus shaping their idea of what a circus is) up until the 60s might misinterpret this as being related to gypsies ourselves (songs like Cher’s Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves, also add to this misconception that we’re the ones in the peep shows when we are not, even if that song is a bop) - if that child then worked for DC or was in the fandom, as writers/artists/fan-fic authors/fanartists in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, from the 80s to the 2000s, they might have mistakenly thought this was part of our culture, and not a business running parallel to ours (I hope this makes sense?). This is just a theory, but one of the only places I can think of this stereotype coming from, besides just plain racism?

Anyway, this hyper-sexualisation is ironic because a big part of our culture is actually that it is a purity culture, with equal expectations on both sexes to maintain modesty and virginity prior to marriage (of course, it’s a bit more relaxed nowadays but the expectation is still there, even if you’re in your 30s and unmarried!). This is drilled into us from a very young age, so even if Dick was removed from his culture by the age of eight, in a real life situation, he would likely already be well versed in this aspect of our culture. As I mentioned earlier, even before Dick was explicitly stated to be a gypsy, I think it’s definitely possible to read a gypsy upbringing into his character, even if unintentional, as written pre-Grayson - there’s one discussion Dick has about his anxieties about moving in with Kory whilst unmarried (I forget which comic this is from), and I cannot help but feel this resonate with me as a gypsy.

Then there’s the element of dress. TV shows like ‘My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding’ have done a lot to convince people that we all dress immodestly, but first of all: MBFGW focuses on another subtype of gypsy, Irish travellers - not showmen/circus like Dick is portrayed to be; and secondly - it’s such a small percentage of the population who do dress like that, that it cannot be taken as truth. I’ve a fair few cousins who are half-Irish traveller, and none of them dress like that. You’re far more likely to find a gypsy man wearing a shirt, a jumper, a pair of jeans, and boots than any of the gelled hair and vest top combos you see on there.

It’s a big thing that Dick has some questionable fashion choices (which are often featured as justification for his supposed ‘himbo-ness’), and this is definitely true in canon (Discowing, that one polka dot shirt, the mullet era… oh Dick, you disaster), but I’ve seen a lot of people correlate that directly with his growing up in a circus. As someone from that background, let me tell you that is just a Dick thing. It has nothing to do with being from the circus, we all dress rather normally - I’m sat writing this in a blue T-shirt, a pair of navy jeans, and a pair of boots - aka the kind of thing Dick wears more often than not in later not-the-80s canon! The thing is, this kind of presumption is something I’ve experienced myself in real life. I was doing some charity work, and there was a press element - when the journalist found out I was a gypsy from a circus family, and that I had horses, I was told to come to the photoshoot in my ‘little pink sparkly dress or whatever it is I ride in.’ I ride in jeans and a T-shirt btw. They just presumed because my family owned circuses, I must do vaulting and perform and I don’t - I worked in the kiosk or on the rides. The point is, people make a lot of presumptions about us just because we’re from the circus, and it’s not accurate.

Then there’s also the fanon effeminising of Dick: often giving him softer, feminine features, make-up, etc, to make him ‘pretty’. Like with the skin-colour issue, draw Dick however you like. You do you. But don’t use his being a gypsy to justify that. Tbh, the vast majority of gypsy men I know are extremely masculine: physically, the cis-men of our community tend to be quite tall, stocky, with calloused hands and broad shoulders, by virtue of the fact that we have to build up everywhere we work, and that’s a lot of physical labour. In Europe, there’s a big drinking culture, and playing football, etc. Men also tend to dress quite masc and practically for blue-collar work. And whilst I am sure that there are some more gender-fluid gypsies out there (I have quite a few gypsy friends who are openly queer, or trans), I have seen so many posts on Tumblr with Dick presented as being quite soft and feminine looking, with make-up etc, and when people in the notes ask why he’s drawn like that, the artist replies ‘He’s Rom!’ and I just want to facepalm. You can be a gypsy and masc-presenting. You can be a gypsy and fem-presenting. However, being a gypsy ≠ being feminine, and I’m really sick of seeing it. As someone who studies ancient Persia (like, I have a degree in it and am writing an academic book), the similarities are so obvious with how the Greeks portrayed the Achaemenids as effeminate, and like with the Achaemenids, it’s just not accurate. Again, if that’s how you headcanon Dick, then that’s great, but let’s not pretend that Dick being a gypsy has anything to do with it.

So I’ve now discussed the sexualisation aspect of Dick’s character a bit (I’ve probably left something out but oh well), and now I’ll speak a bit about the ‘dumb�� part. This is a far more recent thing, I think, and I suspect it might be because: a) people have weirdly tagged Tim as the Smart!Robin (they’re all geniuses) and thought this somehow means the rest must be dumb?, b) because of how sexualised Dick is, they’ve gone full himbo (see: Dick in the Grayson comics saying ‘at least [he’s] pretty’). However, from a gypsy point of view, this really annoys me as well.

When travelling with the fairground/circus, it is difficult to get a stable education. We tend to go to school in the winter months, but in the warmer months, we are more homeschooled (maybe using education packs from our normal school), or at larger fairs/events, a special teacher may be present. It used to be common that if we were at a ground for two weeks or more, we’d be enrolled temporarily in a local school for that time, but this isn’t really realistic today. However, it is also true that traditionally, our schooling was quite halted. Whilst less common, it’s still fairly normal for us to leave school early - for example, I left school entirely aged 13 to work full time on the fairgrounds (yes this goes against child labour laws but nobody actually cares). As a result of this, a lot of us have very limited education (illiteracy is not unheard of in the older generations), so it’s not uncommon for people to mistake this for us being stupid. But the thing is, this isn’t true. My dad left school aged 11, and eventually got a gorja job in his late 30s - he is now the top in the country at his job. I left school when I was 13, but decided I wanted to go to university, so I sat my GCSEs without studying, got into college, and whilst also working a full time job, got my A Levels and got into what is ranked the number one university in the world. When I got in, people really could not believe that someone of my background could do it, so it was on national news and television. It’s not that other travellers/gypsies are incapable - for the most part, we just don’t see the point as we’ve got a job and a culture wrapped up in one which we want to keep alive and successful. The point is, it’s so common for us to be underestimated, and part of what I loved about Dick’s character is that he is unapologetically clever. But over the last decade especially, Dick is once again being reduced to just a pretty face. Now, growing up, it was a cultural expectation to take care of your looks, and whilst I think I always looked ok (washed hair every day, showered, ironed matching clothes), it was not my primary interest in the same way that it was for a lot of my peers. So having a character who was from the same background as me and allowed to be intelligent and respected for it in a way I sometimes wasn’t was really special. So to see that intellect being taken away from Dick, somewhat, does strike me. If Dick is reduced to just being pretty and flirty, that’s as stereotypical as it comes in my community, and I love it when he can be more. I’m not saying that Dick has to be super serious all the time (that’s what makes Dick’s character so great, even if he is a bit more serious in canon than in fanon, though to be fair that’s probably because canon is a lot harder on him than fanon), but he can be hot and flirty without being dumb and overly objectified.

I hope this makes sense and I also hope that none of my relatives or uni friends see this and immediately work out it’s me - there’s a reason I started a whole side blog to separate my silly little nerdy interests from anything my friends might see - but Himbo Dick Grayson is something which I can’t get behind. Let him be smart. Let him be hot but not overly exoticised.

[taeaura]

The Over-Simplification of Thomas Hewitt

TW: Self-harm, Self-mutilation, Rape {only mentioned twice, and very brief}, Hoyt warning, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence

Thomas {Hewitt} is such a complex character that I feel is taken to such extremes - he's either oversimplified or outrageously radical. For example: The two most-common tropes I see for him {which I'm not demeaning, just critiquing} are A.) He's an extremely sadistic, unforgiving maniac who has no form of empathy or depth to him {this trope usually makes him a rapist, sex-fiend, or someone who uses sex as a way to resolve disagreements.} B.) An extremely-traumatized individual who can do no wrong, doesn't understand the weight of his actions, a consistently-scared man who's socially unaware of EVERYTHING, and just generally a character with no depth. {This trope ALSO usually portrays Thomas as a sex-fiend as well as someone who uses sex as a form of apology.} The truth is - Thomas is such a complex man; Not only in his character but truly in his nature {which I guess is another word for character but whtever.} YES; He is sadistic. YES; He's traumatized. Yes; He's socially unaware at times - But he's NEITHER of those extremes - at least not by default. I understand the first trope , considering he does appear that way to victims - especially Kemper and Bailey. That being said, he {in the mentality of Thomas} had "valid" reasons to target those two: Bailey referred to him as a "what" {"What is that?"} and Kemper barged into the house uninvited. Thomas knows Erin was invited, he was watching through the basement peephole. He knew Andy wasn't invited based off the way Monty treated him. Also - let's address an obvious-but-often-overlooked aspect of Thomas' "killing patterns": The men he kills - the masks he makes - the way he treats the "masks-to-be" all seem to hint at his potential jealously and envy. He tortured Eric by skinning his fuckin arms - he knocked Kemper out with a sledge hammer and presumably {implied by him picking up a chain of meat hooks} attaches him to a meat hook. Kemper's WAKING UP on a meat hook just to get killed and skinned. Thomas' forms of catharsis are destructive in nature - which seem to extend beyond his victims. In the unrated version of the film, during the "first supper" scene, as Thomas rests his arms against the head crest of the dining chair {this is the most popular GIF of him}, there's multiple scars around his arms - all which vary in size, depth, and location. Sure, these could be work-related accidents, which I'm sure some are, but some seem to be a form of self-harm as well. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority are self-inflicted; Considering Thomas has no other outlet of emotional regulation or consistent support system. To get into further detail, let's break down his prominent character traits individually:

Protective + Family Oriented {and Selfless}

It's very obvious that Thomas is protective, both of his things and his people. He's not possessive, at least not in my interpretation. His devotion to his family comes in selfless ways; Including sacrificing his own safety just to keep the family alive and well - Together. He refused to stop chasing Erin; Even after injuring his leg and losing his arm. He killed the slaughterhouse manager because he insulted his family; Insulting him and his family's hard work to survive. He lost not only his job and his purpose that day, but his family's main income. His selflessness often leads to him getting taken advantage of and overworked. For example; The family fully relies on him and Hoyt for their survival; Though mostly Thomas. Hoyt can do enough, sure, but if Thomas was gone, the whole family would go with him one way or another. I find he genuinely doesn't view himself "on their level." As in he's subservient to them. This post is essentially the essence Im hinting at. He focuses on his purpose - If that purpose isn't fulfilled, "I haven't done enough - I'm not trying hard enough - The family's not proud of me - They shouldn't be proud of me - ect."

Reserved / Distant

Thomas is very reserved which is very obviously a defense mechanism developed in early childhood. He's distant not only because of his trauma, but his personality as well. I've always interpreted him as a natural introvert - which would've been amplified if he so happens to be autistic. Of course, not all autistic individuals are introverted, I just figured because of his predisposed characteristics. Thomas prefers to observe rather to interact; Almost acting as a shadow amongst concrete - Or a fly upon the wall: Watching every movement and discerning every sound. I talk more about this in a previous post.

Cautious {and Selective}

Adding on to the previous segment, Thomas is very cautious {and selective} with the people he surrounds himself with. Strangers? Absolutely not - unless it's obligatory. His family? Yes. I think this traces back to his trauma and social anxiety; His speech impediment makes it excruciatingly difficult to socialize, further isolating himself and his family from 'evil outside' civilizations. Hoyt's consistent hatred for 'hippy' city-slingers and the family's already-biased ignorant and overly-traditional values make Thomas' social pool a drying puddle.

Judgmental, Envious, {and Violent}

To add onto Hoyt's hatred for city-slinging, draft-dodging, hippy protesters; This hate definitely rubs off on Thomas. He's judgmental - both for survival and out of envy. His momma's "Christian teachings" about how full of sin the world is surely don't help the judgment issues. It's a calamitous cycle which gets worse with each year they spend in solitude. Their fear of society - fear of judgment - keeps them hidden from the rest of the world: Abandoned by the government as they're forced to fend for themselves. Forced to lay low within the shadows so they can remain together, as opposed to rotting in separate jail cells. In a way, it's their own "solitary confinement." Solitary confinement can cause an increase in violence / violent tendencies - Which is no surprise in the case of the Hewitt family. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness,

"Those with mental illness are overrepresented in solitary confinement, despite the vulnerability and threats to the mental health of those incarcerated. Research shows that the effects of solitary confinement on mental health are often fatal, both during and after incarceration. Half of all suicides in prisons and jails occur in solitary confinement. A recent study shows the long-lasting effects; that any amount of time spent in solitary increases the risk of death in the first year after release. Individuals were overall 24% more likely to die in the first year after release, including from suicide (78% more likely) and homicide (54% more likely). They were also 127% more likely to die of an opioid overdose in the first two weeks after release."

How does this relate to judgment and envy? I'll tell you:

Thomas is so conspicuously envious - We can see it in every scene with Eric. When he beats the shit out of Eric whilst caressing his face in admiration - Only to calculatingly caress his own in desperation. The way he gasps once he sees Kemper's wedding ring {for Erin} - Only to follow it up with wearing his face to visit her?? His envy comes out as judgment; His anxiety comes out as judgment. His judgment comes out as violence. It's a continuous cycle which he's learned over time from multiple sources.

Creative, Appreciative, Resourceful

Do I even have to explain this one? Nah I'm kidding.

Thomas is a creative and skilled individual who knows taxidermy, sewing, patchwork, leather-working/smith, all that jazz. It's not only a form of catharsis, but a form of hiding himself from the world. He takes pieces of what he finds beautiful, stitches them together, and presents himself as that "collection" of beauty. It's his way to turning himself "beautiful." This leads me to believe he finds beauty in the smallest things. A decaying carcass? A new mask. Withered and rusting jewelry? A new accessory. Left-behind tools? His tools now. He takes care of the things he loves, and loves to take care of what's been forgotten. He's appreciative of small things; Especially considering the Hewitt family didn't {and still doesn't} have much but themselves and their old farm. He notices the small things. The usually insignificant, under-appreciated, forgotten things. Maybe it's out of necessity; Maybe it's because he feels he's one of those things - Just not one deserving of the same grace.

Reliant {and Independant}

Notice how the family always calls for Thomas? They call multiple times, sure, but that seems to be more out of annoyance than worry. They know Thomas will get the job done - He always does - and he does it damn well. He works hard; He was quite literally one of the slaughterhouse's hardest workers. He worked 'till he was forced out of there. Thomas is stubborn, sure, but it helps get his work done. And - it keeps him safe.

Besides meal-prep, housing, cleaning, and transport, Thomas is very independent. He can hunt forage his own food; Protect himself and others; Make his own clothes; Hell, he'd learn how to cook and clean if he needed to. He doesn't really need transport - at least not in his mind. He's content - He'll make do with what he has. It's like the quote from 'Pearl' "One day you will understand that getting what you have isn't what's important - Making the most of what you have is."

___

Apologies for this being relatively short compared to my other previous analyses; My brain's been kinda foggy recently but we're recovering!

Tommy my beloved socially awkward {autistic} Texan🫀

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the night courts justice

pairing: platonic!rhysand x reader

summary: rhysand learns your past traumas are more alike than he assumed.

Tw: MASSIVE trigger warning for r*pe being mentioned. Graphic, graphic violence. Feminine rage, unhinged female rage. Unhinged. 

Would like to preface: this is a work of fiction, uh, yeah. 

I know people write more detailed shit than I did however, I just wanted to give the violence disclaimer bc this is the most violent thing i've ever written (i usually just write fluff!)

Happy reading to my unhinged vengeful girlypops <3 

After you turned, you got bad. You had always struggled with depression, however the fae transformation increased that feeling. 

Rhysand noticed first because you were showing the signs that he did after under the mountain.

“You’re taking care of them, so they’ll be okay when you leave.”  He had approached you on the balcony.

You weren’t an idiot. “Sometimes, I do wonder what would happen if I just…” You waved your hands around. “Ceased.” 

“You wouldn’t see Feyre again.” His voice cracked. “She was what was keeping me from…ending it after I got back.” 

“I don’t know the extent of what happened to you.” You began, “but I can fill in the blanks.” 

“How so?” “From one rape victim to another, I can see the signs.” You simply stated.

It was silent and then, “Feyre found me that night.”  Your voice was a whisper in the wind.

He paused, he could feel the sorrow radiating off of you. You swallowed, “she found me abandoned in the woods, that’s where I was taken. At the time, we had no idea who it was, or where he was from. It was close to the wall. Hence how she found me. I had been there since the previous night. Missing for almost a whole day plus a night. She was hunting at night so people wouldn't get greedy when they saw her with prey. She brought me back to the cottage, her dad was asleep, Nesta woke up because I couldn’t get up the steps and she heard a bang.” You sucked in a deep breath, “I couldn’t get up the steps because….he had hurt me too badly.” He put a hand on your shoulder, he wasn’t one for physical affection like this with someone he barely knew, but he knew you needed it.

You didn’t push him away. 

“Fey and Nesta got me up the steps, it was the first time I had seen the two of them work as a team. They got me in the bath, cleaned up the blood that was staining my legs, my…everything.” 

He tried to keep his rage contained, however it was hard, you felt the air turn denser. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rhysand.” You laughed bitterly. “It’s over and done with.” 

“Do you want revenge?” 

You sighed, “Yes, which makes me terrible-”

“No it does not.” He hissed.

You shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” 

After a brief silence he asked, “You said, at the time. Who was it?” 

“He was from the Spring Court. Not Tamlin or Lucien. Or the guy that Fey killed. But now that I am here, and I have the heightened senses. I recognize the different courts, it’s the smell. He smelled like the Spring Court.” 

“Can I see what he looked like?” Rhysand asked. 

You nodded and let him into your mind.

-------------------------------------------------------

During the war, it had completely slipped your mind that you had told Rhys about these things. Or rather showed him the face. Feyre had come back and then you were off fighting a war. Not too much time to dwell on things. 

But, one day you were called to “the torture chamber” as you called it, however Azriel disapproved even though he also agreed. He just didn’t like how blunt you were about it. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

That’s when you could smell it. The smell of dandelions and dewy grass. The smell that had haunted your nightmares long before Hybern had. You saw him tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, his mouth had a gag stuffed in it. Azriel was behind him, Rhysand off to the side and Feyre was behind you, she had come with you. But based off the look on her face, she knew all along. 

“You can either kill him or I will.” 

“Doesn’t this look bad, High Lord?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If this gets out…” 

“Oh it can, I don’t particularly care, let them know I don’t tolerate anyone being raped, let alone someone in my court. Let Tamlin come and try to defend this.” 

“He’s an asshole, but he never raped me.” Feyre walked up and put a sword in your hands. “Gut him like a fish.” 

You took the sword, ready. You looked at him as he wept. “Do you remember me?” 

Silence. 

You lifted his head with the tip of the sword, drawing blood that trickled down the metal. 

Gods, nothing has ever looked so fun. 

“I said, do you remember me?” You asked in an innocent voice. 

He shook his head, screaming around the gag. 

You widened your eyes, mockingly, “you know I screamed that night too.” 

HIs eyes widened, you didn’t know if he was recognizing your scent, or if he had done this to multiple people and he’s trying to figure out which one you were. “You went across the wall, found an innocent sixteen year old girl. A child. You took me out there and you raped me. And then at the end, when I was crying into the dirt, begging for the Mother to put me to sleep so I would stop hurting; do you remember what you said?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer, so you shoved the blade in deeper, causing a bigger waterfall the color of revenge to cascade down the blade. “I asked a question.”

He shook his head. 

You let a cruel smile slip. “You said that with the way I was acting, I had it coming.” You laughed and his eyes widened. “And now, you’ll see what you’ve had coming all these years.” 

With that you moved the sword. He let out a breath, but then saw you go to the table and grab pliers. 

“How many people?” You asked starting with his finger, that’s when you saw the wedding ring. You laughed coldly. “What poor person did you trap?” 

He glared, you smiled and took the pliers and pulled off a fingernail. He screamed around his gag and it was music to you. “I ask again, how many?” 

He kept screaming, so you kept pulling. 

Once you started on the other hand, that’s when he stopped screaming and began nodding. “You’ll tell me?” You asked. 

He nodded so you removed the gag. “Nine.” 

You let out a laugh through your nose. Not a genuine one of course, but one that showed you were about to become even more angry. “Do you remember their faces?” 

He nodded and you looked at Rhysand, “if you’d ever be so kind. I want to pay them a visit.” 

To let them know their monster is dead, and he did not die a slow death. 

Rhysand nodded to let you know, he intruded the male's mind and then left the room with Feyre. 

He would show her their faces, she would draw from memory. Then you would find them to give them peace that he was dead. 

Only Azriel was left in the cell.

Then you smiled again, a twisted and evil one, “and now our fun begins.” 

That’s when you smelled the urine. 

And your smile grew bigger. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The male was later found staked to a rock by the wall. An ice pick through his forehead and his hands, pinning him to the old stone. The word “rapist” was carved into his naked chest. All fingers were broken and nine teeth were pulled out of his mouth. 

Then a letter was sent to eight houses, explaining that their monster was dead and if they chose to, they could see what became of him by going to a certain spot. 

All eight showed up. 

Well nine but no one could see her. No one could see her or the High Lord of Night Court watching. 

“You feel better?” 

You sighed, “murder is bad, however I can rest easy knowing he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, you definitely know he is.” 

You snorted, “I may have had a bit of fun.”

“He definitely deserved it, the thing with his penis though was twisted.” 

You laughed outright at that. “That was Azriel’s touch.” 

Rhysand shuddered, “once again the guy deserved it, but Gods, you filet’d that thing.” 

“They’ll find it in the autopsy.” You shrugged, sipping your hot chocolate, that fought off the cold Sunday morning. 

He lifted his cup over for a cheers and you clinked, and both of you took a sip. “We’re fucked in the head aren’t we?” You said. 

He nodded, “Oh we definitely are. At least we’re surrounded by other fucked individuals.” 

“Cheers to that.” 

And once again you clinked mugs. 

-------------------------------------------

The next day you were called into the Feyre and Rhysand’s office, part of you wondered if it meant that the mortals had connected the murder of the Night Court and now you’d have to pay for what you’d done. 

But when you walked in, Feyre was smiling genuinely. 

Rhysand gave her a loving look, “could you at least pretend it’s something bad just to mess with her?” He drawled teasingly. 

“She’s my best friend, she’d know I was lying.” Feyre responded as if Rhysand was dumb. 

Could confirm, you would know. 

“I thought I was your best friend.” Rhysand put a hand to his chest as if he was offended but you both could tell he was not. 

You and Feyre shared a look and rolled your eyes in unison. 

“Can I just know what’s going on?” You asked. 

“We want you to be the Night Court’s Justice.” “...Isn’t that what Azriel is for?” 

“Azriel is for collecting information on enemies. You will basically be an assassin for us.” Rhysand explained. “If you so desire.” 

“Who would I go after?” 

“Anybody that poses a threat to my family.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Someone hurts anyone, including you. Then you have our full permission to slit their throats.” He said. “Obviously, we’d give you assignments. When you don’t have assignments you’d be working alongside Azriel.”

You nodded and then went, “fuck it. Okay.” 

“You don’t want to think about it?” Feyre asked. 

“If I’m taking out people that are like the bastard I just killed, then I will do it. Rapists deserve nothing else.” 

Rhysand smirked, “welcome to the court.”

[woobiedoovo]

I think Ford should totally rape Stan. How is he supposed to resist when Stanley is... well, Stanley? He's threatening to knock him up too because I think we ALL know that Ford would find a way to make it possible. Stanley definitely knows Ford would, so he gets scared (he'll never admit to being scared, though. How cute!) and tries to fight Ford off. But Ford has gotten strong throughout the years. Maybe even TOO strong, because he just shushes Stan and tells him to take it.

Anon I’m looking at you with my big ol’ eyes and fluttering my lashes like a young maiden. I ended up making Ford a bit more delusional and less aggressive, but I hope you like it still!!

Let’s get some TW’s out of the way!!

TW: Non-con, creep/condescending Ford, drugging, slight feminization(kind of? There are some inklings of it, so I’m putting it just in case), mentions of body modification(like one sentence), FORD IS NOT VERY GREAT HERE GUYS JUST A WARNING

“Really, Stanley, you should’ve seen this coming.” He really should have, honestly. Ever since they’ve set sail on the Stan O’ War Stanley has done nothing but try to seduce him. Stanford, at the end of the day, was but a man and his twin was nothing but short of a seductress. With his coy smiles, tight shirts, and teasing smirks, it was a miracle he hadn’t jumped his twin sooner. He trailed his hands up Stanley’s torso, over the swell of his belly and up to his covered chest, tight shirt strung taught against his twin’s chest. Stanley’s glassy eyes watched him, drool dripping down his perfect pink lips. He tried to say something, but his word’s came out slurred and undistinguished, making Ford smile softly.

“Ah, yes. That would be the effects of the paralyzing agent I slipped into your beer. Don’t worry dear, it should wear off by morning.” Stanley let out a grunt, his body wiggling in protest underneath him. Rolling his eyes at his twin’s stubbornness, he readjusted their positions, pulling Stanley back towards him as his twin tried to get away. “Don’t fight it Stanley, you’re only making this harder for the both of us.” He tutted, rolling his eyes as his brother glared at him through foggy eyes.

“Really, you’re acting like a child.” Ford sighed, his hands groped at his twin’s generous bosom, punching at his erect nipples. He raised an inquisitive brow as Stanley threw his head back, the sound of Stan’s head hitting the wooden floor of the Stan O’ War drawing Ford’s eye. “Does that feel good, Stanley?” He question was met with a growl, one that he assumed was supposed to come off as threatening but resembled more of a frightened dogs. Adorable. His brother was simply adorable.

His eager hands gripped the hem of Stanley’s shirt, pushing it up and under his armpits, revealing his hairy pecs. His brother’s chest heaved, short and hurried breaths making his chest bounce in an almost hypnotic manner. Two stiff peaks, dusty and swollen, called to him, making his mouth water. Another sound burst forward from Stanley’s lips as he pressed his lips against his nipples, a high-pitched whine that made Ford’s cock twitch in his briefs. He bared his teeth, feeling Stan’s eyes on him, and gently bit down. Another whine.

“So sensitive.” He whispered, pulling and teasing with his teeth as his other hand wandered downward. He switched, now sucking gently on the other, less abused nipple as his hand gripped at Stanley’s crotch, feeling the outline of his twin’s erection. In a feat of admirable perseverance, Stanley moved one sluggish hand down to push away his. He pulled away from his twin’s nipple, a string of spit following him as he sat up to give Stan an indulgent look. “Impressive, Stanley. Most people at this point are fully paralyzed. You really are amazing, my dearest.” Taking Stanley’s hand, he moved it away with little fanfare, unzipping his younger’s twin’s jeans.

Stanley’s boxer’s were damp, his erection desperately trying to escape the confines of his underwear. “You can pretend all you want, Stanley, but your body can’t lie to me.” He pressed down, listening to Stan’s delightful squeak as he put pressure against his clothed cock. With just a little teasing his younger twin looked completely debauched, his chest littered with bite marks and eyes full of unshed tears. His twin’s lips were moving but no sound came out. Disappointing, but it was for the best, he reasoned. Once they copulated and Stanley understood just how much he loved him he wouldn’t have to put him under like this. Though, of course, his twin did look simply adorable while under his mercy like this.

It took a moment to shuffle Stanley’s jeans down his legs, his twin being little help and acting more as a dead weight then anything, as if trying to make it harder for Ford to remove his jeans. He patted Stan’s thigh encouragingly once he finally got them off, throwing the offending item off to the side. The underwear came off much easier, the clothing significantly less tighter than Stanley’s jeans. His twin’s cock, tip flushed and beading with precum, popped up and greeted him. Stan’s legs closed around Ford’s waist, a sad attempt to hide from Ford’s hungry eyes.

“No need to be shy, Stanley. You look beautiful.” Ford reassured him, knowing just how self-conscious his twin felt about his appearance. He found it feather ridiculous, really. His brother was a rather handsome man, rugged and manly in every sense. His hands carded through his twin’s chest hair, pulling at it lightly. Very manly.

Finally, he reached for his own zipper, not bothering to fully undress and only pulling out his erection. He watched as his twin’s eyes widened, the gorgeous brown being swallowed by the black of his pupils. He smiled. As hard as Stanley tried to act like he didn’t want this, the desire in his eyes was hard to hide. Reaching into the pocket of his pants, he pulled out a small travel sized bottle of lube he had hidden away in his pants for just this moment. He popped open the cap, spreading the slick substance against Stan’s fluttering pucker in slow, circling motions. He slowly dipped his finger past the ring of taught muscle, letting out a quiet tsk as Stan tensed up around his pointer finger. He slapped at Stan’s thigh, giving his twin a disapproving look.

“Don’t tense up, Stanley. You’ll hurt yourself.” A mumbling groan from Stan was the only response he got, but he was met with no more resistance as he continued to stretch his twin’s hole with a second finger. He slipped in a third, caressing his twin’s silky walls as he searched for his prostate. He knew he found it when Stan let out a loud moan, the clearest sound his twin had made the whole night. He pulled out, wiping his fingers against Stan’s stomach absentmindedly, patting his stomach apologetically when Stan let out an offended grunt. He shivered at the cold feeing of the lube against his aching cock, spreading the lube with a few eager strokes.

He pressed the head of his cock against Stan’s hole, watching with lidded eyes as the tip sunk in easily. He let out a low groan, slowly rocking back and forth as his cock sunk deeper and deeper into Stanley’s warmth. Stan wiggled underneath him, making him grab at his twin’s soft hips to stop him from pulling away. “You’re doing so good for me, Stanley. If only you could see yourself like this.” He panted, thrusts increasing in intensity as he gained his footing. It was almost overwhelming, the feeling of Stanley wrapped around him, his twin’s soft walls clinging to his penis desperately, pulling him in.

“You look so perfect, my love. It’s like you were made to take me and my cock. You’ll look even more beautiful full of my cum.” His words seemed to gain a reaction from Stanley, his molten walls squeezing against his cock, milking him. “Do you like the sound of that, Stanley? Me cumming inside of you? Breeding you?” He picked up his pace, the sound of their hips meeting echoing in the room. Stan groaned, head shaking. “Don’t be coy, Stanley.” He brought his hand to Stan’s cock, stroking up and down. “You like the thought of carrying my child, don’t you?” The image of Stanley, round with his child made his hips stutter.

“I could make it happen, Stanley. I know you miss the twin’s. You were always more maternal than I was.” His voice became strained the longer he talked, hands gripping Stan’s hips as he hammered into him. “I would take care of you. Make sure you never wanted anything ever again. You would look so amazing pregnant, full of life.” Stan’s legs kicked weakly as he rambled, pumping frantically at his erection.

His stomach tightened, pleasure overwhelming him as he came. He rolled his hip’s against Stanley’s, filling him with his release. Stan was pliant under him, staring up at the ceiling with tear-stained cheeks and red bitten lips, his own cum staining his stomach. He leaned forward, kissing him gently. “Don’t worry Stanley, next time I’ll make sure it takes.”

[mentally-unstabler]

Recovery

Elliot Stabler x Female Reader

TWs- Canonical SVU violence/themes, mention of possible rape (no descriptions or imagery)

AN - this will definitely have a few more parts to it. Check out part 1 here (Disposed). Also we kinda jump around POV-wise this chapter so hopefully it’s not confusing at all.

Masterlist

— 1.1k wc—

Olivia paced back and forth in the waiting room, agonizing over the lack of answers regarding the conditions of her fellow detectives. Despite it being the middle of the night, the whole SVU squad had rushed down to Mercy Hospital as soon as they got the call. None of them had slept in hours.

They’d lost contact with you and Elliot around 6pm the day before, which instantly triggered alarm bells. The raid on the traffickers house was supposed to go down that night and as hours passed without contact, the squad knew something was wrong.

Olivia was the first to raise alarm to the situation. The rest of the squad reserved their worry for a few hours, hoping the two of you had just been caught up and weren’t able to call at the scheduled time.

Eventually, Fin and Munch did a drive by of the target house. When a neighbor commented the occupants left quickly after dinner, they immediately phoned the Captain.

An APB went out on the radios for the missing detectives but no leads panned out. It wasn’t until 2am that Cragen received a call from the Coast Guard, informing him that there were two individuals being pulled from the water. There had been no updates since.

Olivia looks up as a nurse enters the room. The squad was preparing themselves for bad news, seeing as there had been no updates since the initial call to Cragen.

“Is Captain Cragen present?” the nurse asks, scanning the room. She pulls the Captain aside and briefs him on the conditions of his detectives.

Cragen’s face looks relieved as the nurse gave the update, giving Olivia hope that your conditions weren’t as bad as she feared. Eventually Cragen thanked the nurse and returned to where your squad was sat.

“Elliot is recovering from exhaustion and hypothermia,” the Captain explains. “The doctors think they were in the water for over an hour.”

“What about y/l/n?” Fin asks.

“She’s in surgery,” Cragen sighs. “She took a bullet to the shoulder. The nurse said the surgery will be a few hours due to the damage.”

“Ouch,” Fin replies, grimacing at the idea of shoulder surgery.

“But they’ll both be ok?” Olivia asks, worried for her friends.

“They believe so,” Cragen assures her.

All they could do at this point is believe.

IAB showed up at the hospital shortly after dawn. The Captain briefed Tucker on the status of the detectives but explained neither of them was able to give a statement at the moment. Tucker was agitated at the lack of evidence regarding the prior nights events but declined to press for further information out of the Captain.

As soon as Elliot was awake, Olivia and the Captain went to visit him. Fin and Munch hung back in case the nurse had updates on your condition. Also, they didn’t want to overwhelm Elliot, and they needed to keep an eye on Tucker.

“Hey El. How are you feeling?” Olivia asks her partner as she enters his room. The Captain hangs in the doorway, allowing Olivia the time to talk to Elliot.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” Elliot groans in response. “How is she?”

“Y/N’s in surgery,” Olivia replies, sitting on the edge of his bed. “They’re working on her shoulder.”

“I don’t know what happened,” he said. “One second we were talking with the traffickers and the next second they had us bound in the back of a truck.”

“It’s ok,” Olivia reassures him. “We can figure all of this out later. Right now you need to rest.”

“Hey Elliot,” Cragen chimes in. “IAB needs a statement but I let them know you’re still resting. Munch is going to hold back Tucker as long as he can.”

Elliot nods in understanding, his eyes threatening to close in exhaustion.

“I thought she was dead,” he mumbles to Olivia. “She passed out. She wasn’t breathing.”

“How long was she out?” Olivia asks, worried about your condition.

“Too long,” Elliot replies. “I was swimming as fast as I could but she wasn’t moving. She was so cold and limp.”

“She’s going to be alright El,” Olivia states, giving her partner a reassuring smile. Elliot and you had always had a special bond to say the least. It seemed like everyone in the world could see it except the two of you.

“Do you want me to call Kathy?” Olivia asks Elliot.

“Sure,” he replies quietly. “I don’t think she wants to see me but it would be good to let her know I’m ok.”

Kathy had walked out on their marriage months ago and they weren’t exactly on the best terms. Elliot still held onto hope that their marriage was fixable, but was unsure how realistic that outcome was.

Olivia agreed to call Kathy and left Elliot to rest, turning his lights off before shutting the door.

On the way back to the waiting room, the Captain was intercepted by a nurse with a clipboard. Olivia went to join him but Cragen quickly asked her to go update the squad and call Kathy.

Cragen can tell by the look on the nurse’s face that it wasn’t great news.

“Mr. Cragen are you aware that Y/N gave you power of attorney in situations where she is incapacitated?” The nurse asks.

“Yes I’m aware,” Cragen responds. You didn’t have any family and so when you joined SVU a few years prior, you gave Cragen power of attorney in case of this exact situation. You trusted that he would make good decisions on your behalf.

“She’s out of surgery but still sedated,” the nurse explains. “But we need your permission before we can do the rape kit.”

“Rape kit?” Cragen asks, confused.

“The surgeons noted recent vaginal trauma whilst prepping her for surgery. We would have done the kit sooner but she was losing too much blood,” the nurse explains.

“Of course,” Cragen responds somberly. “You have my permission to do the kit. Can one of my detectives be in the room when you perform it? I know she’s unconscious but she’d want someone she knows there.”

The nurse allows Cragen to fetch Olivia from the waiting room, agreeing it may be best to have a female present. Olivia was also your best friend and an older sister of sorts, so she was the obvious choice for the task.

“Captain what’s going on?” Olivia asks worriedly as soon as they leave the waiting room.

“I need you to go in and sit with her while they do the rape kit,” he explains to her.

“Rape kit?” Olivia asks in shock. “Was she…”

“They think so,” Cragen sighs. “I’m going to go and give IAB an update. They may want Elliot to get one too given the circumstances.”

Olivia nods and follows the directions to the exam room, hoping you’d be ok.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

tw for very very brief mentions of rape and incest and other taboo subject matter - only brought up for discussion.

i feel like it is kind of beating a dead horse when i bring up the relationship between fiction, reality, and the exploration of dark/taboo. given the nature of my blog and the change it's made over time—it's brought up repeatedly many times and in many context in which im forced to defend.

outside of that though, i have never really taken a moment to thoroughly break down the reason (or one of them) i find the it important which is the idea of fictional exploration as a sort of third space of processing and development.

there are many arguments surrounding the exploration of taboo relationships, ideas, and incidents in fiction built on the basis of morals. our greater, societal infrastructure relies on the idea of morality to justify any and all material violence. whether that violence be physical harm, systemic injustice, or psychological / verbal abuse etc.

there's a quote by frank bidart that goes "you can convince human beings to do anything if you convince them it is moral" that i think of often when we debate about what is moral and why. all people are equally capable of committing great material harm to other people if they are under the impression they are in the moral right.

so you examine morality as a mechanism for forming social contracts. it is largely debated whether or not morality is subjective or objective - but regardless of either thing, it is a fundamental part of creating a social circle. big or small.

human beings are also naturally social creatures. we want the approval and attention of our peers and we want community. and it will cause us to act in ways, whether that be conscious or unconscious, that are unsavory. whether that be passivitiy to maintain the status quo or othering another person in order to gain social status or favor.

a lot of the people who are staunchly against any forms of taboo in the exploration of fiction are people engaging with this kind of social behavior. at the core of there reasoning, they are seeking solace with peers over a sense of moral superiority all while not contributing anything materially—except often the verbal abuse and harassment of the opposite party.

none of this is very novel for me to point out. there are also plenty of other things that contribute to why this kind of debate happens online so frequently, particularly a strong taboo towards any all sexual content stemming from old-school religious conservatism and other fascist ideas etc.

but i bring it up because of how it relates to my feelings about the concept of fiction as a sort of third space in the same way the internet is a sort of third space.

engaging in this kind of moral crusading online is done by people who are seeking out social spaces that connect them to other people. this is especially true online as the internet has become a third space for people to interact with others that share similar interest and views. they do this to have a space to reaffirm themselves and their morality.

most importantly, they do this because the internet is an easily accessible space to like-mindedness and self-assurance. it's unreliability is overshadowed by the fact that young people engaging in this kind of critique can get ahold of their peers easily this way. humans are social. they seek companionship and our real life third spaces have become more and more sparse over the years.

so, online spaces have become a place for people to process their social development and their emotions with their peers.

now there's an understanding—that people need a way to process their internal world, concepts and ideas somehow.

but there are social contracts that can't be broken in these online spaces. though they are meant to be an escape from the constraints of real life, you are still subject to scrutiny and at risk of becoming a bad actor that is shunned by their own online community and circle of friends.

on top of that, if human beings are capable of committing horrific acts of violence, they are just as capable and if not more, of experiencing that violence in their lives. this also requires processing similar to the normal, everyday social processing people do online.

this much is obvious, even to many people who oppose the idea that fiction doesn't equal reality. you'll often hear them utter words about seeking counseling / therapy underneath posts involving dark subject matter.

but then, there are social contracts of acceptability and palatability. and more, there is inaccessibility.

all human beings are subject to some form of violence or some other type of struggle. whether that be in their class, race, or sexuality - the average person has material conditions and complex emotions that can't be neatly resolved nor shared comfortably with their peers.

everyone needs space to air these aspects of themselves out healthily. you are automatically going to experience a specific amount of negativity in your life that requires an outlet and there is no real way to find a universal solution to answering those feelings. unresolved, it can lead to substance abuse or suicidal thoughts/

and there is no universal, easy to access place for people to unilaterally express and process their feelings and thoughts.

but there is writing fiction.

this, to me, is the one argument that i think is important to bring it up but rarely does. because there are many angles to approach this discourse and this is just one of them.

writing is also a kind of third space. a place to communicate that isn't home or work. a third space in to connect with and break down these emotions—somewhere that can be shared to find camaraderie. it can also be shielded to hide away from the scrutiny of your peers. it is a place where you can inadvertently process these great, overbearing emotions that is neutral and welcome to all.

and it's not that fiction can't cause harm at all. because it certainly can and has

but the very presence of taboo is not the sole cause of harm in what makes something fictional hurtful. propaganda and insensitive messaging and all the ways fiction can hurt people exist with in a predefined context and social climate. that kind of harm spreads through massive scales of government and print and makes its way onto shelves.

more than that, human beings have a sense of morality. it is agreed upon that rape, incest, violence and murder are materially harmful. in the misplaced desire for censorship, it seems people are attempting to affirm this by monitoring works of fiction that have this subject matter at all.

but in that monitoring, you are taking away what makes these kinds of spaces comfortable - which is a lack of hostility.

if you believe this to be the most optimum solution, i implore you to critically examine whether or not you think it morally correct to take away from someone the means to process their emotions. and if you believe still, that it's the best thing to do for all parties i next ask, how will you then make space for them? what space will replace this one?

what are the other solutions have the same level of access to all? can you implement a space for someone with no other healthy outlets, to vent and untangle and smooth out these feelings, without requiring the hypothetical labor of someone else? can you promise you will be able to provide something that offers a similar catharsis for the often deeply complicated feelings being addressed (whether that be directly or indirectly) through the presence of themes like incest, rape, or abuse? can you provide another alternative to the repetitive behaviors of trauma that insist on recreating / imagining these harms in a controlled environment over and over again?

to be clear, it is unnecessary and against my beliefs that you must have experience those things directly to write about them. in fact my point is the opposite.

the thematic concepts that come along with the taboos are the catharsis themselves. a person with a disconnected trauma about neglect or abandonment finding healing in the themes of incest about forbidden love or love that goes against all. a person with no trauma at all, who longs to be free from the daily life stresses of work may find catharsis in the writing of rape which strips autonomy and choice.

human beings are complicated. these examples may feel extreme to you. you are welcome to view them that way. that is your right.

but for other people it is a good solution, one of the best solutions - to strip down these desires bare and explore them where no one is being hurt. where they do not hurt themselves materially or anyone else. art is one of the few spaces you have for yourself. you can argue that distribution is the problem—but if you are able to identify when it is wrong, does your moral superiority extend so far as to believe that that's something only you can do?

and most importantly - are you prepared to take that space from them and provide other outlets? do you think it fair to prevent people from safely having access to something that you, yourself, depend on heavily for social and emotional affirmation?

are you willing to hold space for them when no one else can or no one else will?

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[TW: attempted rape, a little bit of violence]

A/N: I'm gonna highlight the TW part so you can scroll down to skip it

It'd be thrilling for you to be on your first mission, if not for the fact that Graves himself requested it

You have the ideas, but not getting the ideas on why at the same time

You could see why he recruited you to the field, but you're not among the best medic out there, you're just a new recruit so you're basically unqualified for such missions.

If his intention is to get into your pants, well… you won't know what to do

If he's the type who likes to chase women around, then it's easier for you to be the 'easy target' for him. But at the same time, you shudder at the possibility of having to sleep with him

On the flight to the field, you mull over the choices you have

"Johnny."

"Hm?"

"Would you be…. Would you…. Hm," Your face scrunched, "... No, that sounds wrong."

"Wha' is it? Spill it out."

"... Would you be my fake boyfriend for a while? Okay, let me explain first."

Still, he wears the bewildered face, even after you explain everything

"I don't mind, but is it really necessary?" He furrows his brows

"I know it doesn't make sense, but hear me out. You knew what kind of letters he sent to me, you said it yourself that he's getting bolder each day, and trust me when I said that I have known this kind of man my whole life. They won't stop until they get what they want."

"Seems like yer an asshole magnet." He chuckled, "On a serious note, don't ye think he'll get more aggressive after knowin' that you 've a 'boyfriend'?"

"You're right." You rub your face in frustration, "But I don't have a choice, I don't wanna sleep with him."

He thought for a second. "I'll see what I do." He then wraps his arm around your neck, tugging on you in a joking manner, "But don't you think I could misunderstand your request?"

"No, you're just not the type." You laugh, "Besides, I can't see anyone in the team who would be willing to help me, for this kind of stuff…"

"... Now tha' I think 'bout it, yer right."

Upon arrival, the soldier tells the team to move immediately to the base. You're only given 5 minutes to settle down before briefing

To say that the briefing is unpleasant… is an understatement

While the commander gives an introduction for the team, you feel an uncomfortable gaze on you

You don't have to guess it, because when you lift your head, you can see Graves' been eyeing you

It feels like an eternity before it's over

Even then, it's not really over. Because once the commander is done with his speech, Graves casually mentions that he need to talk to Price in private, while not looking away from you

Thankfully, Price dismissed you from accompanying him

Back at the new base, you notice that your room is quite separated from the rest of the team, and that Price's room is farthest away from you

The closest one from your quarter is Ghost, and you can't see yourself asking him for help

That is, until 3 days have passed, and you find two cockroaches under the bed

You scream and jump, and sprint out of the room

And somehow you bump into him in the hallway before you can even acknowledge who's there

(If you knew who it was, you'd rather stay in your room, even with those cockroaches)

He's slightly annoyed by the incident, but asks you what's wrong. You swallow your pride and tell him that you saw cockroaches

"You can just step on it."

"... I'm too afraid to do that."

Seems like your scream attracted more attention, as you saw Gaz and Soap getting out from their room as well, asking if something's up

Ghost gives him a brief explanation, making Soap laughs out loud

"Jeesus, I thought we were under attack or something."

"We should kill them then." Gaz suggested

"Don't kill them." You said

"What'd ye wanna do then? Lettin' them be and hopin' that they'll politely leave yer room?"

"No, just… put them outside or something."

"Ya think they won't come back again?"

While you're busy bickering with Soap, Ghost slips into your room and takes care of it. You only realize it when he comes back with 2 cockroaches dangling in his hand, still wiggling

You almost screamed the second time if you didn't immediately hide behind Gaz

"You still wanna let these things loose?"

"Yes—yes, put them outside—"

And he obeys it without question

Which is surprising, to say the least

While you're grateful that your problem was solved, it actually creates more problems in the future. Because Soap would literally chase you around with a cockroach in his hand (and you have no idea where he gets it)

He'll get scolded by either Price or Ghost though

Anyway, besides the bugs and hot weather, you get used to your new en pretty quickly, as well as your job

Treating minor wounds, talking to injured soldiers, writing and sorting documents, all the usual stuff

You already knew that it wouldn't be easy to treat soldiers in the active warzone, but your team clearly been spoiling you

Most of the soldiers would either scream in pain, or scream at you, and sometimes even both. You attempt to use "You can complain about it later when we finish." but it doesn't work

You could bear it for a few weeks, before you got fed up and straight up running your mouth

"Look, if you wanna get uneven stitches and unnecessary infections, you can keep going. Go on and stress me out, so I will fuck it up."

And when they're still mad at you, you hit them with "I'm gonna report all of your complaints to Captain Price, he's my superior after all. State your name and complain to me, I'll tell him myself."

You felt bad borrowing Price's name, but that's the only thing that made them shut up

Sometimes you hear them muttering "Price's whore" under their breath, but you could care less

You also help other medics when the soldiers straight up humiliate them, by saying that you'll send your report to Graves. It works wonder as well

That is, until the man itself shows up in front of your room when you're just about to call it a day

"I see you've been conducting your survey in the field for me. What was it again? The 'soldier's satisfaction on medic's service'?"

You're actually taken aback by it, but you kept your composure

"I just thought that it's best for the upper rank to hear their complaints, for a reason that they're the one who decides what's the best course of action for the medic."

He chuckles at your explanation, "You're smart, I like that." He then says, "But y'know, borrowing my name for it isn't very wise of you. I can just punish you for that, but I'll let it slide this time."

"Thank you sir, I won't do it again."

"Oh, no. Keep doing it." He put his hand on your shoulder, giving enough weight to emphasize his point, "But keep Price's name out of it. If they complain about you, you should tell them that I would like to request their presence immediately."

After your encounter with him, you feel a sense of dread inside your chest, as if you've been opening a pandora box

Because the next day, Graves decides to oversee the medics' work by himself

Not only that, he'd ask the soldier if they need anything more from the medic, as if he's doing an inspection

His presence gives everyone in the room a tension

One soldier quietly murmurs "This is a warzone, and not a whorehouse for God's sake."

You pretended you didn't hear him

The news about him reach to your own team, and Soap is the first one who confront you about it

"What were ya thinking? Using his name as if you knew him personally?"

"I had to, if not, they're gonna harass the other medics and slow us down."

"Did'ya even think about the consequences? Did it ever cross your mind?"

You want to object him, but you know he's right

"... Sorry, I didn't mean ta shout. It's just that," He presses his hand on his chin, "It's more serious than I thought. Graves wouldn't even bother checking his deputy."

"What should I do then? Should I just… go along with it or ignore him?"

"Don't ever think about ignoring him, it'll only make him excited."

"Then, if I go along with him…?"

"Don't do that either."

He proceeded to explain the probability of him using you for a selfish reason, and it's likely for him to keep you to himself via blackmail

"Okay, then what should I do exactly?"

"Let's see." He thought for a moment, "You could keep doing what you do… no, he'll just prolong your contract." He hummed, forehead creased, "... I think you have to have a rival."

His suggestion causes you to frown, "A rival? Where can I find her? Are there any girls who like him?"

"There's a lot, actually."

He starts to tell you a few names that have caught Graves' attention, from the korean soldier, to the senior in your work

"I don't know…" You bit your lip, "It seems wrong to use my own senior."

"Ye don't have a lot of choice." He shrugs, "They a'ready 've a feelin' for him anyway, ye just need to create the spark between them. Though it'll be hard for ya to do since ye rarely met her, moreover the two of 'em."

"... Okay, we'll see about that."

Several days have passed, and for the first time after your arrival that the fortune goddess smiles at you

You're on your way to Price's office when you spot a brunette girl talking with Graves, and you realize that she's one of the girls Soap talked about

For a split second, your brain decides to prepare a trap, which he falls into without struggle

You've known jealousy for half of your life, mainly from the men you've dated before, so it's easy for you to replicate

And it worked. He really thinks you are, and riles you up by pulling the girl close by her waist

He tugs a smile of satisfaction when you freeze, before passing them with your head down

You continued doing it for 3 to 4 times, while successfully avoiding him in the process. You begin to see him less and less, to the point that you're so sure you're free from him

Until you receive an invitation to a party, hosted by the suspected "businessman" in the neighboring country, delivered by Graves himself

"You're the perfect girl for this mission." He smirks, "It'll be a good time for us to be together, to make up for the time we've lost."

"Uh…." You stare at the invitation on his hand, unable to think, "I… don't think I'm the right person for it, sir. I'm just a medic, I haven't even completed my self-defense training yet."

"I certainly don't mind it if you become a damsel in distress." He teased, which irked you so badly, you almost broke your charade, "Trust me, I know you'll do a great job on it. You'll fit right in with the riches, just like me."

"Well, thank you for the compliment, but really, I'm not cut out of this job. I'm sure Gillian from the intelligent team is more suitable for it."

He let out a sigh, not even hiding the impatience in his breath, "So you'll deny the order from your superior?"

It's enough to shut you up immediately, and you reluctantly shake your head. "No, sir. I'm sorry."

"Good girl." He smiles at you, satisfied, "We'll depart by tomorrow morning, make sure you come on time."

Turns out, Gaz and Ghost are also on the mission. Gaz lights up when he sees you, although a little puzzled because you're not supposed to be on this kind of mission. You have no time to explain to him because Graves already pulls you to the cockpit, separating you with 2 other men

Fast forward, after the disastrous preparation and changing the dress at the last minute (because Graves picked up the most revealing dress that didn't suit you at all), you settle with a long slitted dress and simple makeup.

The party is decent, (you've been to bigger, more extravagant parties, that's why) there's champagne, free buffet, and a chatty host

Graves immediately approaches the man, exchanging greetings and all, while you stick to your role as an arm candy

Before the party, all the members got a briefing about their assignments. Graves would be the one who observes the situation and gives commands, Gaz would be the sniper and distraction so Ghost could sneak in to get the files and the man himself. You didn't get anything, so you assumed you're just an arm candy, until the man offered you a tour to his wine cellar, and you immediately knew that you're the bait

You don't like him one bit, and the fact that you're being used as bait makes you hate him more. He makes a lot of inappropriate jokes and touches, as well as a racist statement when Gaz is captured (he gets the news from the phone)

You try to grin and bear it, until he grabs your ass and presses himself against you. You struggle against him, and he doesn't take it too kindly as he punches your face with his fist full of rings

It hurts a lot that your ear is ringing from the impact. By the time you gain your senses, he's already on top of you, ripping your dress open

"Graves is a good friend of mine, he wouldn't mind if I play with his girls for a while."

You should've taken the self-defense class

It feels like eternity before you hear the door open, and a heavy step comes in. It takes around 3 seconds before the man collapses, with a small arrow on his back

You turn around to see Ghost with black tactical suit, and a different mask, which is just a plain black mask

You quickly cover yourself, fumbling with the remaining of your dress before you hear him calling your name. He calls you with a hushed tone, almost as if he's calling a wounded dog, which is quite accurate, since you don't realize you've been hyperventilating

"Look at me." He commanded, "Take a deep breath… and breathe out. Good, keep it going."

He asks you if you can stand up, and you slowly nod. But as you try to do so, the dress keeps slipping away from your body. Seeing you struggle, he decides to lend you his vest

"Cover yourself with it, and then we leave."

You and him leave the room, with the man on his shoulder, deep in slumber

Back at the makeshift base, they tie the man up on a chair

While Graves and Ghost take care of him, you go to the other room to take care of your swollen cheek. By the time you look in the mirror, it's already blooming red

You make a cold compress for your face, and you hiss at the sharp pain. You sit on the edge of the bed for a while, before you hear people walk in

"What's u— Oh no, what happened to your face?"

You look at Gaz, it seems like he escaped without hassle. "Nothing, just got punched by the package."

"Let me see… Damn, you got a cut."

"No wonder it stings."

He then helps you cleaning the wound, and when he pours the alcohol on the cotton, you stop him

"Let it be."

"Won't it get infected?"

"No, it's a shallow cut. See? The bleeding has stopped."

He chuckles, "I'll trust the medic then."

You both talk for a bit, before Ghost comes in

"We'll be leaving at dawn, make sure you get everything ready."

At dawn, as you and the crew enter the aircraft, you take a glance at the abandoned warehouse to see the man on the chair, unmoving. Graves seems to take notice of it, before he leans in and whispers, "Don't be sorry, he took it upon himself. He shouldn't have touched what's mine."

For a moment, you're filled with so much rage, that you forgot all of your play pretend. "I'm not an object you can play with, Graves." You retorted, words were filled with poison, "I'm not yours, and I will never be."

Which was a mistake, because the minute you said that, his eyes changed almost immediately. And you didn't like it at all

[fakebatmanfan]

Gotham Central Jervis General HCs

TW: Stalking, extremely brief mention of rape (in ref to the comic he's from)

"A little weird, but nice" is a quote I really have to keep in mind while writing this Jervis. It's a perfect summary of his character.

When you first meet (pre-mad hatter), he's weary of you. He always is with strangers, though he usually doesn't find them so lovely...

There's a certain sparkle to you, he comes to believe as he sees you more and more; a glimmer of intelligence in your eyes, a tincture of kindness to your speech.

Things progress especially quickly if you live at the boarding house or nearby.

Being around you, even thinking of you at the start, makes Jervis' anxiety sky rocket. He feels sick to his stomach, as if his heart is racing 100 miles per hour.

And so, though he does approach you in a normal, friendly manner from time to time, he stalks you.

Said normal, friendly interactions (because I'm sure that's what you're here for lol) generally involve awkward small talk, a very shy but kind Jervis and a lack of eye contact.

Jervis' stalking isn't so extreme, as far as Jervi go at least. He just wants to know that you're safe and looking after yourself. After all, Gotham is a dangerous city.

This Jervis' style of stalking mainly involves following you around when he finds the spare time and occasionally pretending to bump into you to engage in conversation. He yearns for your attention...

However, if he suspects something is amiss with you, he'll go out of his way to do it more.

And God forbid you run into any trouble! Do you remember what happened to those boys who he thought raped Connie Littleton? Yeah. That.

While the stalking does calm down once you enter a legitimate relationship, he's still protective of you. The kind of man who always walks you to your door after a date, or at least insists you call him once you've made it home safely.

An utter gentleman; sweet and attentive of you. Not to mention madly in love with you.

Given that he has few social outlets, Jervis is quite attached. He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if you left him...

Like all Jervi, once he becomes the mad hatter, he keeps you as separate from his crimes as physically possible. Almost entirely in the dark, in fact.

He doesn't like you visiting him in Arkham, feeling that it's rather degrading. But, he gladly sends you letters upon letters while he's locked up.

Said letters can be quite mundane content wise (I mean, what can he do in Arkham?), though he always sends his love. He's overjoyed when he receives your replies, rereading them frequently. You're always on his mind...

In Jervis' perfect world, he marries you, further perfecting his mind-control technology and becoming a highly respected scientist. He takes care of and provides for you. You love each other with pure, unbridled benevolence and nothing ever gets between you two.

Say you'll have him? He'll be so kind to you.

[tanketorskk]

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black names explained:

I’ve gotten a few asks about my thoughts on the Black family and specifically their names and the middle names I’ve assigned them so I figured I’d make a post and explain them all, along with how I see the meanings of their names translating to their personalities! I was originally going to do the Black sisters and brothers in this one too but it just got too long so you guys are getting Riddle era Black family until I return with the second installment vjnbjgnbj

tw: brief mention of rape in Lucretia's section

Walburga Irma Black:

Unlike most of her family members, Walburga is not named after a star. Her first name is an alternative spelling of Walpurga which comes from Saint Walpurga, a nun born in 710. Saint Walpurga was also given an annual feast day called Saint Walpurgis Night or Saint Walpurgis Eve. Ironically one of the things she was hailed for was battling witchcraft. She was said to repel witches and was known as a healer of illnesses and one of her only talents not fully related to her religion is noted to be very detailed embroidery. I like to pull things from things like this, especially when it comes to characters we know very little about, so what this tells me about Walburga is that she likely did not have a lot of (female) friends which fits with the fact that I generally think the Black family kept to themselves. She was a skilled healer, which is very interesting considering how she’s usually portrayed as a woman who ruins so much. Is she aware of this aspect of her personality and that’s why she decided to learn so much about healing? And at last, she’s talented at embroidery. This yet again fits with another headcanon of mine that the finer families in pureblood society showed their status through things such as embroidery or homemade lace, to show that the women in the family were so well taken care of that they could focus on nothing but raising a family and making said family look good. I would imagine Walburga was taught by her mother.

Speaking of her mother, Walburga gets her middle name from her mother, Irma Black (born Crabbe) which means she is once again not given a name with a connection to the stars. Irma means complete; entire and is derived from the Old High German word ‘irmin’ meaning ‘world’. One could argue that while Walburga does not have a star specific name she is named in a way that could be interpreted as someone’s whole world.

Alphard Pollux Black:

Alphard is named after the star of the same name, the brightest star in the constellation Hydra. Alphard comes from the Arabic al-fard which, if Wikipedia is to trust lol, means “the individual”. The star is also known both as “the backbone of the Serpent” and “the heart of the Serpent”. From this I like to pull a bit of personality. Alphard has a clear connection to his family, one with a noticeable connection to serpent imagery through the Black family’s consistent history of being sorted into Slytherin. He’s an individual, he’s got the backbone to stand out yet still in a way more acceptable to the family and he’s got the heart to still show love and kindness towards Sirius. I think, and I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion, that Alphard values his family a whole lot. Which is ironic, because in part that’s what gets him blasted off of the family tapestry. Another name for this star is Soheil Solitarius, which translates to the bright solitary one. I interpret this to think he’s got some sort of loneliness to him, even within a family with so many people. That is what being too much of an individual in the Black family gets you. You can only push it too much before you become an outsider and I think Alphard is living right on the cusp.

Just like Alphard, Pollux is yet another star that is the brightest in its constellation, this time it’s the Gemini constellation. Just like how Walburga got her middle name from her mother, Alphard got his from his father. The name Pollux, albeit also the name of a star comes from the twins Castor and Pollux in both Greek and Roman mythology.

As a fun little extra thing, I think Alphard’s fun older guy that he seduces whenever he feels like it (Arvid Thicket) calls him Hydrae and occasionally he calls him Hydra’s Heart because he’s a sap lol.

Cygnus Phineas Black:

Cygnus was the third Cygnus in the family, being named after his paternal grandfather. It's suspected that Cygnus I was likely Cygnus's great-great-grandfather which would be the father of the second man he's named after, former Hogwarts headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black. Cygnus, the constellation derives its name from the Greek word for swan. Looking at the most common symbolism associated with swans, we can assume Cygnus has a certain amount of wisdom to him, which also works perfectly with the fact that he was named after a former headmaster at a respected institution.

Speaking of said former headmaster, Cygnus got his middle name from Phineas Nigellus Black, the most disliked headmaster of Hogwarts, at least believing the statement from Cygnus nephew, Sirius Black. The name Phineas does not come from a star but instead it is a name of Hebrew origin meaning “the mouth of a snake”/“serpent’s mouth”. From this we can pull that Cygnus not only shares the typical views of his family, but looking at a similar saying “having a serpent’s tongue” which means having a tendency to speak maliciously, we can assume that Cygnus might have been either particularly opinionated, a tendency to come off as harsh or negative or both. I would also like to note that Cygnus is specifically named after Phineas Nigellus and not Phineas Nigellus’s son of the same name (as he was disowned for supporting muggle rights).

Lucretia Elladora Black:

Upon first glance, one might think Lucretia is another Black not named after a star. That would technically be correct, though she is named after an asteroid known as 281 Lucretia, an asteroid belonging to the Flora family in the Main Belt. Lucretia also shares her first name with a noblewoman from Ancient Rome. Lucretia was raped by Sextus Tarquinius and subsequently committed suicide after confessing about the rape to her father and husband. It's said that this act was the/one of the first stepping stones in the rebellion that made the Roman government transition from a kingdom to a republic. While I won't go into details interpreting the fact that her namesake was raped, we can look into the fact that Lucretia was noted to be exceptionally devoted to her husband. I think this is especially interesting given how the Prewett family is connected to the Weasleys. They likely weren't at the time Lucretia married Ignatius but even if they were she probably walked the line of marrying someone too different from the Black family and yet she was so devoted to Ignatius that to her it hardly mattered.

Lucretia's middle name Elladora comes from Elladora Black, the sister of Phineas Nigellus. Elladora was actually alive when Lucretia was born (she died six years later in 1931) so it wouldn't be far off to assume that the two possibly had some sort of relationship. Elladora is another name not derived from a star or anything similar, though it is speculated on Elladora Black's wiki page that the name comes from Elladora's mother possibly being named Ella and Callidora Black (the character known as Callidora Black is born after Elladora of course, being the daughter of one of Elladora's nephews, but knowing how the Black family liked to name their children after previous relatives it does not seem completely unbelievable that there was a Callidora Black born before Elladora that she could have gotten the second half of her name from). There are two takes on "Ella", that it comes from the Norman form of the Germanic "Alia" which means "other" or "Aella", a Greek name meaning "whirlwind". Either way, looking at Lucretia one could argue that they fit in regard to her marriage to someone who is from a family that is not necessarily the most respected and in later years is very much considered an "other" to the Black family. The second half, "Dora" is derived from the Greek word "doron" and means "gift". It kinda follows a similar pattern to Walburga's middle name. Just like Walburga is "someone's whole world" Lucretia is "gift/a gift". Considering the usual take on the Black family I think this is kind of sweet.

On the opposite end, to talk a bit more about Elladora. She is noted as the Black that introduces decapitating house elves and hanging their heads on plaques when they're no longer useful. I think Lucretia would share a similar sentiment to her namesake and a more aggressive/demanding way of handling the elves does not seem far off.

Orion Regulus Black:

Orion is a constellation known for featuring a number of bright stars. It is also known for being a good star to navigate from. Looking at this I think it fits with Orion being the head of his family but also the head of Black family in general based off of the fact that he and his family were the ones to live and grow up in 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancestral home of the Black family. I’ve always found this very interesting with him being the youngest as well. In ancient Egypt the stars of Orion were regarded as a god and to me this tells me that this man holds himself in high regard, likely above others even his fellow Blacks. Ironically the bible mentions Orion three times, naming it “Kesil” which literally means fool. I think this perhaps speaks more to others perception of him rather than his own. I would suspect that perhaps due to his age there would be circumstances where he wouldn’t be taken as seriously, something that would surely infuriate a man who considers himself godlike. In Greek mythology he is described as unnaturally strong which one could pull from for a physical description though I don’t personally. What I find interesting is that he stood up to Gaia saying he could kill every animal on earth and was thus punished for it by Gaia sending a scorpion (the constellations of Scorpius) after him. He was later revived by Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer. He’s described as a hunter and a skilled one and while the best way I can think this translates to what we know of him in canon, it could be the way he protects his ancestral home with quite skilful magic. The fact that Orion is made up of so many stars, especially bright ones could also symbolise the Black family in general and how many not only came before him but also how tight knit the family is that he is literally made up of them. This could also be a nod to their incest tendencies, especially given how Orion is the only Black we actually know of (other than his wife of course) to marry another relative.

I am personally a big fan of Orion’s middle name being Regulus, no matter if it’s from a cis or trans Regulus standpoint. Either Orion named both his sons after himself which seems entirely on point with a man that likes himself so much, or Regulus looked enough up to his father and valued family naming traditions enough to name himself after the man. Obviously sharing a name with his son there's going to be some overlap when it comes to personality traits that you can pull from it. Regulus means "prince" and/or "little king" in Latin and this is another time where you see Orion with a name that means something of great importance/something that is generally speaking better than someone else. It is also known as "the king", "the great", "the mighty" and "the centre" as well as one of the royal stars in the Persian monarchy. Even if the whole "heart of the lion" does not fit with Orion in the same sense that some might think it fits Regulus, I'd argue that Orion values/possesses/wishes to possess a good amount of the things that a lion traditionally symbolise, such as courage, nobility, royalty, strength, stateliness and valour.

This ended up so much longer than originally planned which is why I'm saving Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus for another post lol. Hopefully someone enjoys this ramble vjnfjbngjb I've already made multiple people listen to it as it was being made.

This was inspired by an ask I got from @starchildlazaro so I figured I'd tag you since it turned into a post instead of just a normal answer,,,

[crab-rangoon-slut]

The Blood We Shed Chapter 8: Odysseus. PART 1

Chapter warning: brief TW for mention of rape

Chapter synopsis: Takes place during “Odysseus”. Ody is on his way to kill the leaches that have overtaken his palace, Telemachus and you are trying desperately to devise a plan in the meantime.

Story Tropes: Telamchus x reader/oc Slow burn, best friends to lovers, eventual smut and fluff, eventual bloody smut hehe~

Synopsis: Found here in chapter 1⬇️

Still donning our sparring armor as we arrive at the palace, we’re greeted by 108 men all shouting at once.

The guards have barred the platform of the throne where Penelope stands.

“WE DEMAND YOU CHOOSE A KING, NOW!”

One angry man spits,

“CHOOSE!”

“IF YOU DON'T WE’LL TAKE THE THRONE FOR OURSELVES—“

“ENOUGH.”

Penelope snaps—totally outside of her typical graceful demeanor. Her booming voice bounces off the walls of the atrium.

A silence falls on the crowd.

She clears her throat, returning to her usual disposition.

“Now that I finally have your attention,”

The Queen continues, attempting to keep the mob at bay with her commanding tone,

“Tomorrow I’ll prepare a challenge for my hand. By the end of the day, one of you shall take your place on the throne as the King of Ithaca.” She decrees void of any readable emotion in her diction.

“WE WON'T WAIT!” One of the suitors calls out, beginning to rally the crowd again.

Antinous stands with the men at the front; a glint in his eye as he finds The Queen’s gaze.

“If you don’t choose a man, we’ll take exactly what we want from you…”

His threat stands out from the shouts of the others.

Penelope merely smiles at him.

She’s not scared.

She’s pissed.

While we watch intently, I’m situated beside Telemachus at the edge of the crowd. I awkwardly hold my hands clasped in front of my body.

Currently, I’m trying to focus on what Penelope is saying and not on the tension of being pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Telemachus. I stare straight ahead. My thoughts and my stomach are twisting with all kinds of feelings.

Let's see how many I can name:

One. Fear. Fear for Penelope’s safety and Telemachus’s; and for the fight we’re anticipating.

Two. Anxiety; and impatience. He and I haven’t concluded our little conversation after Poseidon’s interruption. There’s so much I want to say... But the time is far from right.

Three. I’m enraged at the suitors. No. Rage is too kind. I’m just about ready to drive my blade into the back of any given man in an instant. And honestly? I can’t wait to.

Four. Grief.

I find myself grieving my father for a second time.

I’m also anxious for Telemachus and his reunion with his own kin. I pray that Odysseus is everything that he’s imagined. But.. at the same time… I’ve had no father return to me today. Not even in an urn.

For that, I feel a fifth thing.

Jealousy.

I’m fighting the urge to look at Telemachus and try to read his mind.

The air around us is so tangibly tense you could cut it with a knife. There’s a shared understanding that our feelings are not a priority right now… even while the effects of his confession have an iron grip on us.

I do notice something out of the corner of my eye though.

Next to me, Telemachus is clenching and unclenching his fist.

It’s a nervous tic I’ve taken notice of ages ago. His whole body is ridged.

He’s violently aware that the suitors are at their breaking point.—

But so are we.

Penelope is trying to buy more time and I know it. All three of us do. And damned if we don’t need it to devise a plan.

We’re incredibly outnumbered by 108 power-hungry men, many of whom are pushing twice my size.

I don’t like these odds.

On a far wall, I notice our friend Alekos.

He's been trying to catch my eye; he subtly gestures for me to come to him

I look to see if Telemachus has noticed. He hasn’t.

His vision is narrowed, skimming every move of the suitors with keen eyes.

I gently tap his hand; he snaps out of it.

I tilt my head toward Alekos.

He looks at me and then the men, then back at me.

“Go,” he whispers with understanding. He’s holding his post.

I nod, slipping quietly along the outskirts of the crowd.

I make my way to Alekos.

He silently greets me as I join him.

“They’re insatiable.” He mumbles, staring into the herd of suitors.

“That’s an understatement.” I hiss.

“I’ve heard what they’ve been planning,” he says, keeping a watchful eye on Telemachus and Penelope,

“They’re coordinating a detailed scheme to kill the Prince—“

My jaw tightens. I know of their threats, but now they have the means and proper motive to commit such a crime.

“And— they plan on taking The Queen.”

His words are quiet and bone-chilling as he speaks,

“They want to force an heir upon her… and attempt to defile the king’s wedding bed.”

“By the gods…”

I whisper,

“I shouldn’t have assumed any less…”

Alekos nods grimly,

“Odysseus can’t be far. And Queen Penelope has also devised a plan...”

He says with confidence; it then turns to grave concern.

“I’ve volunteered to take up a sword and join the sentries in The Majesties' protection. However… when things go wrong, we need to get you out as quickly as possible.”

I shake my head, arms crossed watching the scene in front of me.

“I’m not leaving. All we need to do is stall just a little longer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile,

Odysseus works his way through the back end of the village, chasing the distant palace. His hair is a long, mangy mess, and his beard is overgrown. The calloused man is still sopping wet, disheveled, and determined.

That’s exactly how Athena finds him.

“10 years is a long time, old friend, I hardly recognized you~”

His strides falter as she smiles down, floating beside him. The Divine hadn’t aged a day.

“Athena?”

“Odysseus~”

He's stunned for a moment, however he's quick to remember his mission.

He focuses his pace on the palace again.

“I need to see Penelope.”

“That you do. But you can only stay in the shadows for so long. Let me lend you a hand…”

He raises an eyebrow in interest,

“What did you have in mind?”

Athena hums.

“Hold still, just for a moment,” she says.

She grants him an elaborate disguise, exchanging his clothes for more ragged and plain robes; aging his skin, lengthening his bread.

It’s unsuspecting, he’ll be able to slip by easily.

“We have much to catch up on. Go. Get to your wife and son.”

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 33

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The rest of the month passes in a blur. Every week is as busy as the last as I continue to juggle managing the cafe, shows, classes, therapy and my relationship with Jensen. It’s finally one week out from summer break. All my exams are done and my assignments are mostly done less a final edit. There are just a few shows left in our run and I feel overly proud of myself for getting this far.

I roll over in the too-big king-sized bed in the too-fancy hotel pull what was Jensen’s pillow to my chest. The smell has since faded but it’s still comforting to know he was here. We haven’t seen each other since that weekend as he’s been busy with filming and a few conventions still, but his last day of filming is on the same day as my last show and I’m more than excited about the possibilities. He keeps saying he wants to come back to watch me take my last bow on that stage, but I just can’t see it being possible when he still has to film. But I can’t let that bring me down. Whenever the sadness or fear starts to set in I focus on the ceiling and do the meditation tricks that Dr. Katelyn has been teaching me and I feel better. Over the past month we’ve managed to cover so much of my past and she’s helped me to accept it. With each session I’ve felt a little more ready to embrace a possibility of a future where I could date again. I can tell Jensen’s still concerned, but I just hope I can prove my how I’ve come over summer.

My alarm blares through the room and I force myself to detach from the pillow and climb out of my safe haven. I drag myself into the heavenly shower and attempt to wake myself up properly. As the hot water streams down my body my mind wanders back to the plans Jensen laid out during our brief call when I was on the Subway last night. I know I still have to call my parents and confirm that we can stay with them on certain days, but I know they’ll be over the moon about it, especially when they know it’s not because I’m running away from my problems but embracing my future.

I call my mom while I eat breakfast. She answers quickly and promptly puts me on video so my dad can talk too. After briefly updating them on how my daily life is going I dip into the real reason I called. “So…Does the offer to come visit in summer still stand?”

“Of course!” the both say, then my mom adds, “As long as it’s for the right reasons.”

“It is. I was also wondering if it would be alright if I brought a friend?”

“Of course,” my mom says as my dad says, “Depends.”

I laugh. “He’s a good guy, I swear. I trust this one. He’s also paid for the flights, so…I tried to fight against that, but he won.”

“He sounds alright, but I’ll reserve my judgement until I meet ‘im.” My dad says.

I sigh playfully. “He’s Texan, daddy. You can take him to Uncle Liam’s range.”

“Your last one was Texan too, a poor excuse for one too. My baby doesn’t get hurt again.”

“I love you, daddy.”

“Love you too, Sweet Pea. Separate rooms, Margie.”

“Daaad,” I whine.

“You father’s right. You won’t both fit in your old bed anyway. He can sleep in the den.”

I hear my dad clap and then hum in agreement. “Alright, well I gotta get going, Sweet Pea. I’ll see you soon.” He says to me and then he kisses my mom before saying, “You keep that girl in line, Marge.” He shoots me a wink and then walks out of the frame.

“You look good, happy.”

“Thanks. I am. Therapy is helping. So, is Jensen.”

“I’m glad. So, this will just be a visit then?”

“Yes. I fully intend to come back to New York to graduate next year and then hopefully do more Broadway.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you. I’ll send you those dates, but I should go now.”

“I love you too, Sweetie. I’ll see you very soon.”

I blow her a kiss and then end the call. I quickly slip the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, finish getting ready for work and then all but skip down the street to the cafe.

When I get there I help Stewie load up the truck for today’s deliveries to the set. As I shut the backdoor he tosses me the keys. I shake my head, “Stewie-I-It’s been too long. No. I can’t”

“I’ll be with you. I taught my two eldest to drive when they didn’t know the gas from the brakes. You’ll be fine. It would be a great help if I knew you were capable. But I won’t make you go alone until I know you’re confident.”

“Stewie…But-What-the cafe…”

“We’re gonna be late. Come on.”

I sigh and reluctantly get in the driver seat. I tell myself it’s like riding a bike or a horse, it’s muscle memory. It’s not like I don’t which pedal is which or how to change gears. I just haven’t had a reason or access to drive since I left Texas and the roads are so different here to in the country. I take a deep breath and turn the key in the ignition. I slowly and cautiously navigate out of the alley and onto the main road. Stewie stays quiet, he’s much more calm than my dad was when I first got behind the wheel of his Ranger. He calmly navigates me through the city to the film set. When we get to the gate he passes me his ID pass so I can show the security guard. He looks in the window, nods, hands back the ID and then opens the gate for us. I pass through it carefully and then pull over to the side near the back of the catering tent. When I get out and inspect my work it’s by no means straight but I didn’t hit anything or anyone so I call it a win and rush over to help Stewie unload. As I take the first crate of bread rolls into the tent I spot one of the actresses filling a bowl of fruits, likely stocking up for the day. I smile at her as she glaces my way and then focus on putting the crate down carefully. As I come back with a second crate she’s waiting near the back entrance. 

“Hey,” She says quietly.

“Hi,” I respond politely, “Did you want something specific while we’re unloading?”

She shakes her head. “I was hoping we could chat.”

“Is it about the catering? Is something not to your liking? Stewie’s just outside, he does most of the baking you could chat to him if you like.” I say as I balance the crate against my waist to support some of the weight.

“The food’s great. It’s actually something more personal. You’re dating Jensen Ackles, right?”

I barely know how to respond. I know we’d been spotted a few times but I didn’t think the rumors were so clear yet. We had’ve even given ourselves that label yet, eventhough I guess we are. I can’t help but wonder if Jensen told her anything. He mentioned he was close with the director but he’s never mentioned the actors. I try to stop myself from going to the thought that would undo so much work. I force myself to trust him and take a deep breath to quiet my mind as Dr. Katelyn has taught me. I look back at the actress and give her the most genuine smile I can manage as I finally reply, “We are friends. He was a major part in securing this catering gig. Anything more is his story to tell.”

She nods as if she can see right through my careful answer. “It’s best you keep it that way. Relationships between celebrities and…” she looks me up and down, “Don’t tend to last.”

I nod and plaster on a fake smile to hide my hurt. “Thanks for the advice.” I want to ask how well she even knows him and why she thinks it won’t work, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer, or at least not from her. Jensen’s given me no reason to doubt him, not since Valentine’s at least, so I choose to trust him. After staring me down for what feels like an eternity, she finally takes a bite out of one of the shiny green apples out of her bowl and turns away. I quickly compose myself and focus on the reason I’m here.

Later that night, while I’m on the subway after the show I call Jensen. I know he often does night shoots, so he’s not always able to answer straight away, but he made me promise to call him anyway so he knows I’m safe. So, I do. To my surprise, he answers quickly.

“Hey Darlin’,” he says as soon as the line connects.

“Hey Handsome, you busy?”

“You might regret calling me that right now…” Just as I’m about to question it a selfie comes through. He’s covered in fake blood, scars and dirt.

“I stand by my judgment. But I think sending that photo might go against the NDA.”

“Good thing I threw it out then. So, any update on summer?”

“Yeah, I told my parents…”

“And?”

“We have to sleep in separate rooms. My dad-”

“Not a problem. They care about you. Good. But I hope you know I’d never…not in your parents house anyway.”

“I know that. But they don’t. They don’t know you. Just T-”

“I know. I have no doubt my parents would want to say the same thing, except they know me.”

As much as I want to throw myself into all this planning, the actress’s words from earlier circle back through my mind and I feel torn. I follow another pieces of Dr. Katelyn’s advice and ask for the reassurance that I need rather than letting myself spiral. “Speaking of knowing you…How close are you with the actresses at the set we’ve been catering?”

“Barely. Why?”

“Just met one of them today and she seemed to know about us. She told me I shouldn’t get involved with you.”

“Did she use those words?”

I sigh. “No…She just said that celebrities don’t last with people like me.”

“Maybe that’s her experience but she doesn’t know us. She doesn’t even know what kind of person you are. I may be an actor, but so are you. You’re just on a different stage. Doesn’t make us any different. We’re both people from Texas with a dream, my status in the media shouldn’t impact our feelings for each other.”

“Yeah…”

“Alright, Beautiful, talk to me. Put it all out there. I want to hear all those insecurities so we can work through ‘em together.”

“I’ve got a session with Dr. Katelyn tomorrow. I’ll go through it then.”

“Y/N. Don’t shut me out, please. You’re obviously insecure about this…which is normal, but I don’t want you to bottle it.”

“I just don’t even know…”

“Alright. Promise you’ll talk to the doc tomorrow?”

“I promise.”

“What can I do to help you feel better in the meantime?”

“I don’t know. Just be here. There? Whatever.”

“Of course. I’m here and I really care about you. And I can’t wait to see you. This hasn’t changed your plans for summer has it?”

I stare out the window as the city lights zoom past as I think. I think about that fact that Jensen is taking the time to talk to me during his break, all the times he’s come to visit, the hotel room he organised so I would feel comfortable and the numerous other things he’s said and done for me since we met. I make my decision to be strong. “No. I won’t deliberately prove her right. We may or may not last, but that will be on us. Not because some actress thinks we won’t. ”

“That’s my girl. I agree. You almost at your stop?”

I look up at the small screen to check the next stop. “Two stops left. You need to go?”

“Soon. Tell me one thing you wish you could do this summer?”

“Go riding with you on the trails I used to take.”

“Absolutely. What else?”

“Continue to find myself and see where we fit together. I’m no gold digger, Jens. I really just want a quiet summer with you.”

“I didn’t mean to imply-I just-You’ve had a rough time of it all and you’ve been working so hard. You deserve to enjoy your break.”

“Our break. And I’m not taking a break from everything. I talked to the doc about this trip the other day and my anxieties regarding it. I want to continue therapy over the phone with her. I need to be able to make time for that.”

 “Of course. Whenever you need, we’ll work that in.”

“Thanks. Jens, I-”

“Don’t say it. Not yet.”

“Chill, I wasn’t gonna say that! I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you doing this and being here for me despite everything or since everything or whatever.”

“I made a promise. I keep my promises.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[aceofwhump]

Broadchurch - Alec Hardy Whump Fanfics

Heart and Lungs by orphan_account Summary: Set between S02E05 and S02E06. While Ellie is at his house working on the Sandbrook case, Hardy passes out and falls in the river. Ellie rescues him and is determined to get him warm again. Whumps/TWs: near drowning, heart condition, heart attack, shower to get warm, water trauma/ptsd, caretaking, worried Ellie,

a habit takes twenty-one days to build and two years to fester by PUNK_MENACE Summary: Ellie finds Alec on the floor of his kitchen one morning. She's worried it's his heart again but when he wakes up, she realizes he hasn't been eating or sleeping properly, and it's been going on for a while. It's time for Alec to really start healing. Whumps/TWs: exhaustion, malnutrition, not taking care of oneself, collapsing, passing out, emotional whump

Deep Wide Ocean by orphan_account Summary: Post S2 AU. Claire Ripley revives the accusations of rape and abuse she made against Hardy, leading to the arrest of both Hardy and Miller. As the detectives race to clear their names, things are complicated by the revelation of new secrets and the return of Joe Miller. Whumps/TWs: rape mention, accused of rape, arrested, nightmares, ptsd, emotional whump, crying, heart condition, panic attacks, poisoned, collapsing, hospital,

Understanding of the Dark by everythingmurky Summary: Hardy becomes the focus of Joe Miller's revenge after he's forced to leave Broadchurch. Tipped off by his daughter, Ellie works to find him before it's too late. Part 1 of Valley of the Shadow Whumps/TWs: non con touching, rape/implied rape/sexual assault, kidnapped, tied up, strung up, pacemaker/heart condition, hospital, rescue, recovery, nightmares

Losing the Light by everythingmurky Summary: After being the target of Joe Miller's revenge, Hardy stayed in Broadchurch and resumed his duties as detective inspector just before a serial rapist attacked another victim. An alternate telling of season three, following the events of Understanding of the Dark. Part 2 of Valley of the Shadow Whumps/TWs: sexual assault/rape/rape recovery, trauma, nightmares, collapsing, hospital, heart condition, not taking care of oneself, intubation, worry, heart attack, non con touching,

Down By The River by nannyogg123 for Hazelmist Summary: Have you ever wondered how Alec Hardy’s and Ellie Miller’s lives would have gone, if the pendant would never have been lost? Fate still brings them together in this AU story, united in seeking justice for those who can’t speak for themselves. A slightly different take on the story we are all familiar with (eventual Alec/Ellie). Whumps/TWs: AU/alternate meeting, heart condition, exhaustion, sick, passing out, hospital, collapsing, past trauma, heart attack, aed usage, he's basically a walking mess the whole fic and it's amazing

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part One by nannyogg123 Summary: This is Part One of the story - Alec Hardy's weeks leading up to the Sandbrook case... Where Alec is planning on taking his daughter to a wedding, but life gets in the way. (AU as we don't know much about life before Sandbrook) Part Two will focus on the Sandbrook case and how it rips Alec Hardy's life apart. There is no Ellie Miller in his life yet, but there is Daisy...Part 1 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul and is a prequel of sorts to Down By The River Whumps/TWs: AU, heart condition, lightheaded, dizzy, passing out, hospital, heart attack, nightmares, emotional whump/angst,

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part Two by nannyogg123 Summary: This is the story of the Sandbrook case and how it will rip Alec Hardy's life apart. It's a direct continuation of "A Million Holes Poked In The Soul – Part One", and we will meet familiar OCs. So, reading Part One is recommended to put certain things in context, but you can chose not to. A brief synopsis is provided. It may all be AU. Naturally there are spoilers for both seasons. Part 2 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul Whumps/TWs: This is insanely whumpy and so good. Lots of scenes related to his increasingly worse heart condition, emotional whump and angst, hospital stays, passing out, nearly dying, and more.

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part Three by nannyogg123 Summary: This is the conclusion of “A Million Holes Poked In The Soul”. It’s the final part that deals with the Sandbrook case aftermath and leads up to Alec Hardy coming to Broadchurch. Reading Part One & Two is strongly recommended as this story is a direct continuation. Part 3 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul Whumps/TWs: Pretty much the same as part 2

the light fails and the fog rolls in by Anonymous Summary: Of course it's Miller who finds him crying on the office floor. Whumps/TWs: emotional whump, crying, tears, comfort,

Wrong Moves by marshmallowfluffiness Summary: Alec decided to stay in Broadchurch and got his job back, and his daughter's life is in danger. An unexpected and highly unliked character returns and it's up to the people to defend themselves. Can the people of Broadchurch take another emotional blow? Can Ellie and Alec survive this? Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, waterboarded, torture, beaten, left to die, hospital, nearly killed, coma, nightmares, strangled,caring broadchurch members, caught in an explosion, character death, severe depression, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, major character death, unhappy ending

Her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me by SubwayToHellAndBack Summary: Breathe. He can’t stand watching Miller be so much better at this than him. He doesn’t know how to help and keeps asking Trish the wrong questions. Even though they are the only questions he knows how to ask right now. He can’t tell her what he would like to tell her. So, he keeps on asking these bloody, insensitive questions and letting Miller do all the comforting and talking with that stupid soft voice she’s got. He’s mostly just concentrating on trying to breathe and keeping a calm exterior. It's been working quite well so far if he says so himself. It is making him seem a little grumpier than he would like to be at the moment but it's fine, it’s nothing Miller’s not used to from him by now. She’ll get over it even if she looks at him with this sort of motherly disappointed look. Breathe. Or. A season three rewrite in which Alec deals (tries to avoid) with some past trauma of his and when Ellie finds out about it she's there to help him with it and they become closer than ever. Whumps/TWs: rape, panic attack, past trauma

Alt. Day 28 - Sensory Overload by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: There’s a reason Hardy hides in his office. Why he generally abstains from prolonged socialization. Why he only has Ellie as a friend. Because generally? People are a lot. And massive social gatherings are not his forte. Whumps/TWs: social anxiety, sensory overload,

Garbage Bins and Denial by twelvehotairballoons Summary: Alec Hardy did not take sick days. Except for when he did, apparently, and Ellie was not about to let him take it all alone. Whumps/TWs: sick, nauseous, emeto/vomiting, caretaking

Broken/Break by InSpaceYoghurt Summary: Hardy was going to murder the person who lost their booking. He had specifically called in and asked for two SEPARATE beds. He would have asked for separate ROOMS if he could afford it. And for good reason, too. The last thing he needed was for his colleague // only friend to find him crying, alone, sitting on the bathroom floor. Whumps/TWs: nightmare, heart condition, caretaking

Save Me by Ilovecastiel18 Summary: Post-series. Hardy almost drowns during a case. Ellie has to calm him down. Hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff. One-Shot. Whumps/TWs: near drowning, panic attack, caretaking/comfort,

Never Again by Rosencrantz95 Summary: In which Alec gets hurt while pursuing a suspect, but he’s fine, really. At least he thinks so. Nothing can be wrong with him because he’s had that damn surgery! He’s fine now! Nothing can be wrong with him. He can’t go back to the worst year (what was almost the LAST year) of his life. He can’t do it. Never again. Whumps/TWs: hit in the chest and goes down hard, heart condition, lightheaded, exhaustion, chest pain, emeto/vomiting, collapsing, passing out, Ellie whump, surgery, Daisy is kidnapped, choked,

Kinsley Road by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Broadchurch is dealing with a street gang problem. Hardy and Miller have arrested the leader of a local gang, the Kinsley Road Boys. The gang, in turn, retaliates by targeting Hardy. Whumps/TWs: badly beaten, nearly killed,

Petrol Burns by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Alec has been kidnapped; Ellie and Katie are on the trail of his kidnapper and discover the terrifying fate he'd planned for Hardy. Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, captivity, emotional whump, tied up, gagged, beaten, rescue, crying, hugging

Seventeen Suits and a Beacon by RuntotheForest Summary: Ellie and Alec find themselves in a dangerous and seemingly impossible situation. How will they get out of it? Part 1 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: shot, bleeding out, can't get to medical treatment, field medicine

The Grief That Does Not Speak by RuntotheForest Summary: Ellie and Alec deal with physical and emotional fallout from their harrowing day (as described in "Seventeen Suits and A Beacon") Part 2 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: recovery, injury recovery, emeto/vomiting, emotional whump, bleeding, passing out, pain, nightmares, fever, hospital

The Trouble With Normal by RuntotheForest Summary: After the events described in the previous two installments in the series, Alec and Ellie attempt to ease their way into a 'normal' life and relationship, but various issues arise that seem to make 'normal' more challenging than it needs to be. Part 3 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: injury recovery, physical therapy, pain, drugged, non con cuddling, passing out, sick, nightmares, fever

A Shoulder to Lean On by RuntotheForest Summary: When Alec and Ellie head out to make an arrest, things don't go as planned. Whumps/TWs: hit by a car, shoulder injury, pacemaker, injury recover, concussion, sick, dizziness, emeto/vomiting, caretaking,

Pacemaker series by TheBasilRathbone Summary: Alternate First Meeting - If Hardy had never taken the job in Broadchurch in the first place. 7 part series Whumps/TWs: heart condition

Late night in the police station by fan_fics_are_life Summary: Alec ignores his headache and ends up passing out on Ellie. Whumps/TWs: headache, pain, passing out, caretaking

Open Water by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Post-S3 For Ellie Miller, life can only be normal for so long. When a figure from her past reappears and takes D.I. Hardy, Ellie struggles dealing with fears both past and present. D.I. Hardy, meanwhile, struggles to survive when his fear is leveraged against him. Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, torture, tied up, starvation, hallucinations, drowning/near drowning as a torture technique, fear, whipping, rescue,

The shift by keyrousse Summary: Alec gets hurt as a consequence of his last case. Ellie has to help him during his recovery and discovers a new side of him in the process. Whumps/TWs: hit by a car, attempted murder, hospital, broken bones, traumatic amnesia, inujry recovery,

Stopgap by sunbeamruins Summary: A slight season 2 AU picking up between the events of episodes 3 and 4 where Lee uses his break in to Hardy's house for more nefarious purposes, and the fall out from said actions. Whumps/TWs: Graphic depictions of rape, rape recovery,

Friends and foes by marlowe78 Summary: Even as he realized where he was – in a field, wet and wobbly and confused, about ten miles out of Broadchurch – he knew that something very, very not good had happened. Because the last thing he clearly remembered was picking up his daughter from school. Whumps/TWs: traumatic amnesia, kidnapped, casefic, noncon touching, strong language, drugged,

Stained Red by Ellezaria Summary: Alec gets in the way of a bullet aimed for Ellie and Ellie is not pleased. Whumps/TWs: shot

Cold Case by shambling Summary: A man has been reported missing, and its all routine; Alec goes off to talk to his boss and Ellie stays behind to direct resources. But things are never that simple. Whumps/TWs: knocked out, locked in a freezer, hypothermia

There Is One Consolation In Being Sick; And That Is The Possibility That You May Recover To A Better State Than You Were Ever In Before by Lord_What_Fools_These_Mortals_Be Summary: When Hardy doesn't turn up to work one day, Ellie goes round to his house to investigate. She finds a very sick, or in his words "completely fine" Hardy, and takes it upon herself to care for him, even if that means force-feeding him chicken soup. Whumps/TWs: sick, emeto/vomiting, caretaking,

Five Times Alec Hardy Was Inconvenienced by His Pacemaker (And One Time He Wasn’t) by GnomeIgnominious Summary: Ellie notices a lot about Alec in the year following his pacemaker surgery. He goes through a very subtle personality change, as though the Dorset weather is finally eroding him into something a little more happy. It's not without its teething problems, though Whumps/TWs: pacemaker, heart condition

She Hates Him, She's Sure of It. At Least, She Was Sure of It. by WhumpTown Summary: "No more broken heart." Episodes come far and few between, nightmares send him into wheezing fits but they don't nearly kill him anymore. One episode, one he can't even remember, ruins everything they'd fought for. He finds himself on the table again but this time, it's not nearly the same. Whumps/TWs: struggling to breathe, pacemaker, heart condition, surgery, collapsing, defibrillation, recovery,

[decayflux-protocol]

TW: Brief mentions of rape, gore, and violence

Topic: self-publishing authors and trigger warnings

Can someone please save me?

I somehow landed in the self-publishing author bubble and most of them think that trigger warnings aren't necessary and that triggers are just "every day things that could trigger a flashback." I want to crawl out of my skin as somebody who's been so severely traumatised that my psyche literally FRACTURED. I'd very much appreciate a trigger warning for certain topics like... Idk... Rape? Extreme violence? Gore?

Obviously, if you're reading shit (not sorry) like "dark romance" you can expect it, but it's still fucking necessary. And I will die on this fucking hill.

[thecrispydemon]

My Personal Elm Street:What Freddy Krueger and a Nightmare on Elm Street Taught Me about Myself

TW: brief mentions of rape, and abuse

When I was a kid I wasn’t allowed to watch Horror movies, however I’ve always had a fascination with dark things. When I went to the library I often read books about macabre topics such as, ghosts, and urban legends.

I would ask my classmates, or family members about horror movies they’ve seen, because I was afraid to watch them myself. One day, I was in my third grade classroom sitting with some of the other kids, I don’t remember how we began talking about horror, but I learned about iconic figures like Micheal, Jason, Chucky, but the one that made me the most uneasy was Freddy Krueger.

I remember lying awake at night, thinking about him, the burnt face, the glove with soldered razors, but worst of all was the idea of falling asleep and never waking up. Eventually I reached a point where I was tired of being afraid. Before I fell asleep I’d imagine going to meet him. I envisioned myself walking through a forest with serpentine trees poking out of the fog. The trail lead me to some decrepit cabin, and just behind the door he’d be there. The bright, ratty red and green sweater stood out from the rotting grey wood of the cabin. I don’t remember what was said, what I do recall is that I talked to him as if he were a friend, as if he were a misunderstood soul. Of course I knew this wasn’t the case, it was more about psychological comfort. I did this until my fear of him faded, once I accomplished that, so did his presence in my life, until much later, where he impacted me in a way I didn’t expect.

I started watching horror my freshmen year of high school, since I’m slow at watching new things, I didn’t watch a Nightmare on Elm Street until my senior year. The film peaked my interest, so I decided to watch the sequels. My passion for the franchise was cemented when I watched the second film, Freddy’s Revenge.

Have you ever heard a song that gave you chills the first time you heard it? As if the notes resonated off of something deep within? That was my experience watching Freddy’s Revenge, though I didn’t get chills I still felt that deep resonance. I felt a magnetic pull towards Freddy, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror, a reflection of you, but it isn’t. For a long time I couldn’t figure out why. In the beginning I thought I was experiencing another hyper-fixation, similar to ones I’ve had in the past.

For a year I spent my time learning about the franchise, reading, watching interviews, anything I could get my hands on I consumed. Despite my passion, there was a part of me that was anxious I was doing something socially unacceptable, or that I was liking something “the wrong way”, because Freddy is insinuated to be a child predator. I had a gut feeling that what I was experiencing was more passionate than just about being a fan. I felt like he was a part of my essence. I wouldn’t describe myself as a spiritual person, but something that is ingrained in your psyche, that is apart of your being. and I was afraid what people would think if they found out. I tried to convince myself to not feel the way I did, by imposing rules upon myself. I saw videos, and comments about how it’s “problematic” to simply like Freddy, which legitimized my fears. Despite my anxiety I kept on engaging with the series because it gave me a sense of comfort, and reassurance, ironically enough.

Eventually I wanted Freddy to be my next cosplay project. I gathered all of the things I needed, and on Halloween I woke up early to begin the several hours of makeup. I set to work, layering on latex, my face slowly morphing into his. When I was finished I was overcome with euphoria. As the sun began to set trick-r-treaters made their way through the neighborhood, I stood outside handing out candy. I wasn’t seen as my usual self, instead I was treated as if I was him. There was a level of authenticity that I felt. It’s like a suppressed part of me got to finally come to the surface.

While I learned about the franchise I found the fandom, which was a huge turning point for me. I found others with a similar passion, and they all seemed like average people. My worries about enjoying a “problematic” character lifted. However this did not address all of the emotions I was experiencing, because a lot of people didn’t experience the same intimate connection with Freddy as I did.

I wasn’t completely overcome with shame, due to spending time with my thoughts I determined that I don’t have malevolent tendencies, nor was it the cause for my connection with Freddy, instead it was examining his personality, motivations, and backstory that gave me insight.

From being a product of rape Freddy was mocked and socially isolated from his peers he was passed around several orphanages until being “adopted” by an abusive alcoholic. People treated him as evil by default. All throughout his life he’s only seen cruelty and pain. My life thus far has never been nearly as tragic, but being outcasted, and socially isolated is something that deeply resonates with me. Due to having physical disabilities, being queer, not to mention having undiagnosed ADHD made social connection that much harder. Overall I just couldn’t assimilate socially in school. Since I was undiagnosed, my ADHD symptoms were perceived as me being purposely difficult, like I was bad by default and needed to be “corrected”. Over time this led me to attain a strong sense of independence, and fierce internal rage. I became more vigilant and suspicious of others, in turn it made being vulnerable difficult. Though I wasn’t abused, I see some his fears in myself such as being afraid of being vulnerable, or asking for help out of fear of being seen as “weak”. Additionally having a burning determination in our goals.

Although there are nuances between how Freddy and I perceive the world, and how we treat others. To me he not only represents my darker nature, but my passion, individualism, and tenacity. Accepting him as apart of my identity has given me the strength to take up space in the world, that I deserve to be seen, respected, and to not allow myself to be taken advantage of. Throughout my journey I was afraid that my passionate connection to Freddy said something negative about my morality, or that I was endorsing his actions, but on closer examination I realized that I’ve learned a lot about myself. It’s easy to take a dichotomous view on morality, especially when it comes to fiction. The one takeaway I want to share, is to encourage others to examine their relationship with fiction, and what connects with them, because it’s not always the hero that we learn from.

[fakebatmanfan]

TW: Extremely brief mention of rape and murder

No one ever talks about the interesting nature of Jervis' crime in Gotham Central. Like, he killed a bunch of high schoolers because he thought they raped a friend of his, and it was his first criminal act, too! Of course, murder is wrong, but it's so fascinating to me that Jervis was driven to crime by chivalry(?), or at least the desire to avenge someone he cares about.