#collecting parts-epic au

[critterruthlesslydraggedintosea]

In which Odysseus (possibly through his connections to Hermes and other gods) , was gifted (or cursed depending on who one asks) with the ability to gain aspects of any creature with enough divine or magical power that he injures- allowing him to gain strength from his enemies. For most of his life it doesn’t come up. As a child he grows the tail, stripes and gains some of the strength of Athena’s boar (and gets some more bristle like hairs mixed into his natural texture). That boar proves that he was one of the people with divine blood to get that trait (it’s not guaranteed) but for years after that the only enemies he slays are humans or animals that don’t have enough magic in their blood to carry over to him.

In his desperate fight to survive and get home after the Trojan war, his body starts to have to adapt quickly. It doesn’t help him feel like he’s still a man but his wife still loves him.

I don’t know if I will end up writing anything for it because my brain keeps hopping between teh Epic fandom and Submas too fast for me to get much writing done but I made designs for each of his changes/designs. They’re put bellow because he’s just in non-period accurate boxers and for spoilers/scars

First- he’s had boar-like traits since childhood so everyone knows he has this rare but known to exist connection to transformation and is just accepted to have these traits

Then he goes most of his life without change until the cyclops, where the divine essence that chooses when he gets traits counts the blinding of it as enough injury to gain some traits- mostly tusks and red eyes

He doesn’t physically injure anything else until the sirens but once he gets there, he doesn’t do the deed himself for all of them but he hurts a lot of them verrrry badly so he gets a lot of traits from them.

After that, the only traits he gains are a few from when he bites or hits or even draws his tword at Calypso. Whether or not she actually forces herself on him all the way, she is touchy and pressuring and he has instincts honed in war and battle. He can never hurt her too badly so he doesn’t gain much from her but there’s some.

I decided not to include the harpies and other things he might fight before coming into view of Ithaca, deciding that they either didn’t happen or he didn’t directly hurt them like with Charybdis. This means his next traits are from repeatedly stabbing Poseidon with his own trident over and over, getting a lot of traits (and based on my hippocampus centaur Poseidon just to be fun)- though I made the drawing for this one a little post Ithaca saga to show some of the healing :D.

[meet-me-backstage]

𓃗

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꥟ Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ꥟ It had been years since you ran away from Joel Miller, a hunter, frightened for your life and of who he had become. Before the infected roamed he was the grumpy single father of a chirpy little girl who lived across the street from you and kept himself to himself… until he didn’t, not with you at least when you began watching over Sarah while he couldn’t. He became someone who you could talk to, a friend dare you say, a silly little crush and your lifeline at the beginning of the apocalypse.

Now you are residing in Jackson, a slice of heaven in a cruel world, the perfect distraction from your past and the hell you went through to get away from it. However, you realise that the past really does always come back to haunt you when all too familiar faces arrive at Jackson and you have no other choice but to face Joel again, who makes it his mission to fix your broken friendship.

Unable to fight your heart, feelings resurface and lines blur when it becomes clear that you are just as much Joel’s lifeline as he is yours.

𝑨 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ꥟ Horror themes, not strictly following the first game/season + not at all following the second season/game so kinda au, reader can sing and play guitar, weapons, bad language, death, grief, angst, mentions of pregnancy and stillbirth, blood, mention of vomit, violence, nightmares, PTSD, a lil smidge of dark!Joel, Jackson!Joel, soft & protective with a bit of a dad bod!Joel, unrequited love until it isn’t, jealousy, mutual pining, age gap (reader is 36 and Joel is 56) and smUUUUT (‼️) so you must be 18+ to read❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ꥟ 13.1K (I’m sorry y’all, I got carried away with this one lol😅)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ꥟ Grief, mention of death, parental neglect, bad language, angst, a Platonic (with a capital ‘P’‼️) reader x Joel pre-apocalypse flashback, PTSD, nightmares, blood, violence and mentions of pregnancy.

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

THEN

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑

'It's you... Moved into Sammy's old place across the street not that long ago, right?'

'Errr - yeah?'

'So you got a home - what're you doin' in mine?'

'Sarah invited me in.'

'She also give you the last cinnamon bun?'

'Maybe?'

''Course she did... That was mine.'

'Oh - um - ‘m sorry, Mr Miller - I didn’t kn—’

'Look - 's been a long day and this ain't a daycare so I think it's 'bout time you go home.'

That was it.

That was how you met Joel Miller.

The first day that you'd stepped foot into Joel and Sarah Miller's home, the first time that Joel had ever even acknowledged you, the first time you'd ever seen him up close rather than from across the street or your bedroom window, watching him make monotonous tasks like doing the lawn or hanging laundry look captivating... You figured that you'd just caught him at a bad time, but you didn't blame him for being irritated. He had caught you in the middle of taking a bite out of the last of the cinnamon buns that Sarah had made with the sweet Connie Adler... and you were watching Dawn of the Wolf: Part One, a horror movie that Sarah had snuck out of Joel's dvd collection.

You left just as he'd told you to, politely muttering a 'goodbye' as you did, but you were kinda annoyed that you never got to see what happened at the end of that movie, or find out what the twist was that all the movie buff's at school whispered about when it showed in the theatres at Halloween in 2001... you couldn't go at the time, so you cursed and kicked at the sidewalk whenever you saw the poster, slamming all of it's blockbusting epicness in your face.

It was Sarah's idea... really.

The whole thing.

You'd seen her before that day, just like you had Joel, across the street.

She'd wave at you, smile at you and you'd do the same while your fathers would just stare at each other, sizing the other up.

She'd knocked on your door on a lonely summer's day in 2002, your father was at work, so it didn't take much persuading on your part to run across the road with Sarah, her curly hair bouncing with each skip of your steps while she grabbed onto your hand, leading you to her home as if you didn't know where she lived, as if you hadn't seen each other through your bedroom windows and awkwardly waved before diverting your focus back onto your dreaded maths homework.

While sat on the comfy sandy-brown leather couch tucked into the bay window in the middle of the living room, holding that cinnamon bun, you and Sarah were asking each other questions. She seemed so excited just to be sitting with you, with someone who wasn't so familiar like her father or uncle, someone who wasn't a relative that she could relate to, who was closer to her age that she could befriend.

She was lonely, just as you had been.

The move was unexpected and quick... your dad had gotten a new job opportunity here in Austin, Texas - far from your home before. You knew that he would take the job without even considering that you would have to leave your friends, your boyfriend, extended family, school and, most importantly, the house that your mom made a home - the house that she took her last breath in... you'd left them all behind, never to be spoken of again.

All for him... and he was never even around.

Settling into a new high school... it was your worst nightmare. Pushing your way through narrow hallways, cramped by other students who stood in their close knit friendship groups, unwilling to welcome the newbie into their arms.

And the neighborhood... it was neighborly, but it was also quiet most of the time. However, neighbors like Connie and Danny Adler, they were around all the time to look after Connie's elderly mother, Nana... you couldn't avoid them, they'd be sat outside eating even during the winter just to greet everyone who walked by.

That was how you first met Sarah... officially. You both happened to be walking back from school at the same time, the difference between you being that Sarah was beaming, radiant, and you were frowning, dulled after a day that merged into the last, just like the rest had since you'd moved. Connie and Danny were sat outside feeding Nana, who was confined to her wheelchair and unresponsive to everything around her. You would speed-walk past to avoid them, it wasn't that you didn't like them, they were a harmless little unit, it was just that you weren't in the mood to talk... you never were.

That day was just the same, except Connie had spotted you just as Sarah was walking towards them to drop by.

She did that a lot, an example of how selfless a girl Sarah Miller was.

Connie called you over with that sprightly high-pitched voice of hers, but it wasn't that that made you stop walking, it was the pleading look that Sarah sent you afterwards. That was what made you change your mind, then you and Sarah were ushered into the Adler home to spend the evening baking cookies, to make a friend - finally.

Your first friend in Austin.

Your mood elevated significantly after that day.

Granted, Sarah was a few years younger, but she was everything that you could ask for in a friend: good company with witty humor, but also so kind. Clearly she thought the same about you, her excitement being just as evident as yours because the day after she knocked on your door and dragged you to her home, telling you how 'bored out of her mind' she was and to come try her 'kickass cinnamon swirls'.

Her hazelly green eyes lit up at the coincidence of you having never seen the first part of Dawn of the Wolf, and her dad recently buying it at the local dvd store, after she'd asked you: 'if you could pick any movie to watch right now, what would it be?'

Joel thought that he had gotten rid of you after kicking you out of his house the first time.

He was mistaken.

You and Sarah became inseparable.

You both took comfort in being the same chess piece on a shitty old chessboard with several pieces missing.

Whether you were sprawled out laughing with Sarah on her bed, listening to cds with Sarah on her boombox, sat on the couch with Sarah watching horror movies, or sat on the kitchen counter eating pancakes you made with Sarah, Joel would always utter the same two words whenever he saw you as if he didn't expect you to be in his house. It was like a routine, or a habit of his that made the lack of visitors the Miller household would get so obvious before you moved directly across the road from it in the spring of 2002.

You'd hear the engine of Joel’s truck, the jingling of keys from outside, the door swinging open and a sweaty Joel, after a long day of work, would jump out of his skin at the sight of you and Sarah together before playing it off like it was nothing, and then...

'It's you.'

'Oh - it's you.'

'Oh shi- it's you again.'

And your personal favorite: 'Jesus fuckin' chri- it's you.'

You'd snicker into your hand, oh so discreetly hiding your amusement and failing every time because you weren't exactly trying hard enough, and Joel? Joel noticed everything, and even though he always seemed irked by you, he'd watch you cross the wide and desolate road from his porch to make sure you got back home safe - maybe it was an attentive father thing, you wouldn't know anything about it... your father wouldn't know if you'd gone missing even if the local sheriff shoved your missing poster in his face.

Your dad didn't know that you'd formed a close bond with Sarah, didn't notice that you'd been in the house opposite the street, didn't even notice that you'd left.

On the rare occasion that he was at home it was like he wasn't truly there with you. He treated you like a ghost, maybe because he pictured you as one, everyone back at your hometown would tell you how much you reminded them of your momma, but you'd never know if he did think that because he would never sit with you to talk about how much it hurt him just to look at you.

He kept his distance from you, threw himself into work, mumbling a 'later, darlin'' under his breath if you decided to bother knocking on the door of his study to tell him that you'd be at Sarah's or school.

It didn't hurt you anymore, not like it did when your mom's passing felt like a freshly opened wound to your heart.

Now you woke up every morning with a little smile on your face, hugging your favorite pillow to your chest, anticipating your day spent with Sarah and the reaction that Joel would have when he'd step through the front door only to find you with Sarah in his house for the umpteenth time.

Would he smile? Probably not.

Would he laugh? Definitely not.

Would he shake his head? Probably.

Would he tell you to go home? Definitely.

You tried not to take it too personally. If there was one thing you knew about Joel from the few times that you'd seen him out in the wild, it was that he hated everybody, or he acted like he did... not including Sarah, he loved her, you could tell by the way he drove her to school every morning, the way he'd adjust her backpack while it hung on her shoulders so that the straps wouldn't dig into her skin and leave those sore red marks that you'd get from lugging your own backpack after walking back home from what felt like a never-ending day at school.

Ignoring those same sore red lines from that same backpack, you found yourself stood in your usual place, bouncing on your feet in front of the glossy white door that separates you from the cozy interior of Joel and Sarah's home.

You'd started knocking seconds ago, your tongue peeking past your lips in full concentration as you hit a fun rhythm against the wood, entirely expecting Sarah's face to be the one you're greeted with... but it isn't.

It's his... Joel's grumpy face.

Your fist is still balled and held up mid-knock.

He's never here.

Not during the day anyway.

Only Joel would loom over you like a gatekeeper to his home... Sarah would've welcomed you in by now with a wide, toothy smile and outstretched arms.

He stares down at you silently for only five seconds after he'd opened his front door, but it feels so much longer than that, like an eternity compared to a brief moment. As usual he looks disappointed by your being invading his space, the one who dared to knock on his door and disturb his peace.

"It's you - again," he grumbles unenthusiastically while he holds the door half open with his palm, still looking down on you like you are an imposition to him and his time.

There they are.

Those two words.

But you don't feel the urge to giggle or hide a timid smile this time - maybe it's getting old... kinda like him - though you're quick to rule that thought out, choosing to place the blame at the hands of his harsh scrutiny towards you with those stern brown eyes of his.

He raises an eyebrow in question, like he doesn't know why you're stood on his porch, but then you realise that you'd not said a word to him in response like you typically did, you'd not even moved a muscle - still in a statue-like state caused by your confusion at his presence as if it was such a shock to you that he actually lives in the house that he works so hard to pay for.

Your arm abruptly falls back down to your side with a faint slap, feeling a slight ache in it after holding it up for too long. Say something - say something - say something - anything, stupid— "err hi, Mr - um - Miller - is Sarah home?" You ask timidly, trying to ignore your stomach doing a series of backflips that make you feel all giddy inside.

He grunts, nodding his head before looking over his shoulder to call Sarah, who you presume is awaiting your arrival in her room. You lift your head fully, gazing up at him - he looks... clean. There's not a trace of grime on him like there normally is after he'd spent the day doing construction, his dark stubble doesn't have any wood chip stuck in it and his hair is not flattened from wearing a hard hat all day - he looks... kinda cu— "Sarah!"

"What is it, daddy?!" You hear Sarah's voice coming from the living room, you also hear the television, it sounds like a movie just by the heavy orchestral music sequence in the background of muffled dialogue.

They are watching a movie - together.

Suddenly you feel like you're invading and you never felt like that here before.

Joel's head is still faced to the side and occasionally he side-eyes you, his lips downturned and the lines of his warm-toned skin are deep at the corners of his mouth, "that kid from across the street is here again - I thought we said no visitors today!"

Your palms feel clammy and those backflips your stomach was doing before? They no longer make you feel giddy - you feel agitated at the sole existence of the man standing before you, who is now casually leaning his side against the door as if he doesn't notice the way that your face is flushed red with embarrassment.

Pfft - 'That kid.'

Why'd he have to be so mean?

Why’s he talking about you like you’re not stood right in front of him?

His sheer annoyance towards you is suddenly not as funny as you originally thought it to be... he must really hate you, even more than the other neighbors.

Why're you so butthurt about it?

"Look, kid - I ain't had a day off in a long time 'nd—," he exhales, diverting his gaze back down to you, "between you 'nd me, I'd really like to have this one day with my daughter - you think you could allow me th—"

"I have a name, asshole," you blurt before any of it processes in your head, skipping the part where your brain checks off the words and instead going straight to the part where you vocalize them.

Your heart does one particularly loud beat that you're sure even Joel hears.

Did you really just say that?

You're never gonna see Sarah again now.

After the initial shock of what you’d said washes over his features, you hear it for the first time, a low chuckle coming from Joel's mouth, albeit not at all genuine, it oozes sarcasm and his eyes are darker, colder than they were before you called him an 'asshole'. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?" His voice is smooth and smug, and there's a hint of light-heartedness in his eyes that is unfamiliar to you, angering you even more.

The fact that it was possible to make Joel laugh.

All of those dumb jokes that you'd pulled from your sleeve just to try and make him laugh, only for him to have no reaction at all.

No, it took calling him out on his assholery to get a cackle out of him, to see that prizewinning glimmer in his eyes... and your mom.

Why'd he have to make a joke about her?

You don't realise it until you feel them trickle from your tear ducts down to the corners of your mouth, but you're crying... you're crying in front of Joel Miller and to say that you're horrified is an understatement.

You hadn't cried like this since your mom... and Joel looks perplexed, like he has no idea what to do, but you can see through your blurred vision that his face looks softer, the lines around his eyes and forehead less obvious.

"What the - dad, not cool - her mom - she's—" Sarah appears behind Joel, aiming a disappointed look up at him.

Realisation spreads across his facial features, his posture stiffens and his arm drops to his side, "oh," his mouth opens further to apologize, or maybe to joke about you some more... you don't know because you run back home before you find out.

You don't look back to see if he is watching you, but you just know that he is, you can feel his gaze burning into your back as if it made any difference to your safety, as if it were strong enough that it'd stop any speeding cars from hitting you... truth was, you didn't care right now.

You were pretty sure you'd lost Sarah.

And without Sarah, you had no one.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You were supposed to visit Sarah yesterday.

She remembered how you'd not gotten around to finishing that Dawn of the Wolf movie and wanted to finally finish it with you... It was what you'd initially planned to do with her the other day, when Joel opened the door and... yeah, that didn't work out. Instead, you decided that rotting in your room, reading books and junk eating would be how you spent your summer holiday.

It's way better than being bullied by some grumpy grumbling dinosaur for a neighbor, you tell yourself.

But you miss Sarah - a whole damn lot.

You miss her infectious energy, how she'd lighten the mood so easily after a heart to heart about your moms.

You'd never tell Joel, though it's not like you could now anyway, avoiding him and all, how Sarah felt safe enough around you to open up about how her mom had left without so much as a note or phone call after the divorce, when she was only a baby. She told you how she had no memory whatsoever of her mom, what she looked like, not even a photograph... At least you had those memories to hold close to your heart, a moment of finality with your mom before she left you that Sarah never got to experience.

You're seated at your desk reading with your chin rested on the palm of your hand, the book in your other. Your eyes drift to the framed photograph of your mom that you rummaged out of an old photo album you saved from the trash on moving in day.

She's looking directly at the camera, appearing as though she's smiling at you, just as you liked to remembered her - beautiful and carefree... Usually you smiled back, but you didn't tonight, not only because you weren't in the mood to or because your book had some kind of gravitational pull that lured your attention back into its pages, but because you saw, in the corner of your eye, a light outside.

With your desk's placement in front of the only window in your room and the darkening sky outside you can focus entirely on it, quickly realising that it's coming from Joel and Sarah's front porch. It had responded to motion, you notice when you see two figures, one in front of the other, a smaller and larger one, the smaller one dragging the latter across the road.

The closer that the two figures get to your home, the clearer they become.

It's Joel and Sarah.

An audible gasp leaves your lips. It looks as if Sarah has talked him into this just by the way that his steps towards your house seem hesitant, but she ignores it, dragging him with her hand that barely wraps around his forearm. Her mouth is moving too, talking up at him like she is giving him strict orders.

As they disappear under the frame of your window and step onto your own front porch, a sight you never thought you'd see, you abruptly lift yourself and lean forward, your hips digging into the edge of your desk just to observe them until you lose sight due to the tiled roof of the porch beneath your window.

Your nose and lips are pressed flat against the glass when you hear a faint knock at the door, your heart thumps once after the sound echoes throughout the house.

Another knock.

Another thud of your heart.

A call and response.

The third knock is what causes you to jump away from your window, you draw your attention away from the condensation, the marks you'd left clear on the glass and glance down at the photo of your mom, silently begging her for some form of reassurance, advice, or for her to just magically tell you what to do.

She wouldn't want you to lose your friendship with Sarah.

She wouldn't want you to be alone.

She'd want you to open the door.

She’d tell you to go open the door.

A fourth knock sounds... You decide to go and answer after an internal battle between your brain and heart.

It isn't until you're approaching your front door that you notice the ache in your hips from digging them into your desk in a vigorous effort to study every movement from the father and daughter on the other side of it - you're sure it's going to leave bruises tomorrow.

After deeply inhaling and exhaling you reach for the door handle, twisting and opening it to peek your head through the gap between the door and it's frame, feigning curiosity, like you had no idea who to expect behind it.

"—n't you worry, honey - we'll try tomorrow," Joel tells Sarah. They've got their backs to you, about to give up on you, but they're still on the porch so you stop yourself from internally cursing at how much time you'd wasted to answer - it's not too late.

Sarah nods half-heartedly, her posture visibly deflated.

"Hey," you murmur before you can stop yourself, shut the door and wither away in your room at the hands of your cowardice.

Sarah's head turns first, then Joel's.

Sarah says your name, relief crossing over her features, not looking so defeated as she grabs onto her dad's arm again and pulls him to stand directly in front of you.

Joel does not look so pleased to be dragged around by a fourteen year old after he'd clearly just got back home from work. He was still in his construction clothes, donning his white hardhat, a padded navy jacket that has sawdust and stains all over it as well as tight-fitting blue jeans and boots that had seen better days.

You slowly open the door, it creaks as you reveal the innards of your home… The dim light from the bulb above you spotlights the emptiness, the lack of family photographs and decoration.

Joel is examining the space behind you, his eyes flicker around… He spots the differences between his home and yours, a loving home and an empty one. He wasn't the perfect father, he was exhausted by the time he got back home to Sarah, received constant work calls and had to run around after his brother, Tommy, all the damn time... but at least he made time for Sarah at the end of the day.

Suddenly it's so alarmingly obvious to Joel as to why he'd find you in his house most evenings.

Even what he had to offer for a home was better than the hand you'd been dealt.

Sarah tugs at his arm, "dad - dad," she whispers, grabbing his attention the second time she calls him.

He glances down at her, subtly nodding and muttering an 'I know I know - gimme a second' under his breath, acting as if you're not stood right there... He does that a lot. His hair peeks out messily from under his hat when he lifts his head to awkwardly make eye contact with you. "Ki—" he stops before even starting, and just when you're considering slamming the door in his face, he calls you by your name.

Your jaw goes slack, "w-what - do you want?"

"’S—" he scratches the side of his glistening neck and you gain some fulfilment from that - him being nervous for once. "Your dad home?"

"No," you state, shrugging your shoulders, "he's workin' late."

Joel nods, fighting the urge to roll his eyes - he'd heard that one before, many times from his own mouth - to Sarah, "'course he is." He bites his tongue, you can tell by the way his lips pout while Sarah silently urges him to speak, “Sarah and I - we was wonderin’ if you wanted to—” he looks down at Sarah again like he’d forgotten the words on a script and needed some guidance going through it, “we thought it’d be nice if you joined us - for dinner - ‘n’ watch that movie you like—”

“Dawn of the Wolf?” You blink profusely, hopeful.

“Yeah - Dawn of the Wolf.”

You divert your eyes to Sarah, who is nodding eagerly with each word that comes out of her father’s mouth.

When he’s done talking she looks at you, begging you with those wide eyes that you could never say no to, and her grip on Joel’s arm even tighter, stopping his blood from flowing where her fingertips are pressing into his skin. “Pleaseee pleaseee pleaseee join us!” Sarah adds.

You can’t leave her in suspense for a second longer.

“Sure - I’ll um - join you,” you answer, breaking out into a grin at the same time Sarah does, who drops her dad’s arm and steps forward, pulling you into a hug. She squeezes you so forcefully into her arms, so carried away by her excitement that you can hardly breathe between giggling, “it’s - only been - two days.”

“I don’t care - I missed you,” she confesses to you without a care in the world now that she had her friend back.

Another choked giggle escapes you as you wrap your arms around her, “I - missed you too.”

Joel is stood still watching you and Sarah hug each other… You swear that you see a hint of a smile plastered across his lips at the sight, “c’mon you two, dinner’ll be gettin’ cold.”

“Okay, daddy,” Sarah mumbles while you nod against her shoulder… Then she gives Joel a thankful glance after letting go of you.

You shut yourself outside with them and Sarah holds onto your hand just as she did the first time she invited you into her home, pulling you away from your porch and towards the road.

Joel follows close behind so you’re sandwiched between both members of the Miller family. He strides with his serious eyes glued to you, Sarah and the road, but you’re sure that he’s feeling some kind of relief underneath the tough exterior at the fact that he’s not the one being pulled around by his daughter anymore.

He says your name again, clearer this time, and just as you’re about to cross the dimly lit street, you’re stopped by his hand on your shoulder, a light touch, but you feel the roughness of his palm and fingers all the same.

His eyes can look so kind when he means for them to be.

“Sarah—” he nods in the direction of his little girl, who has let go of your hand and broken into a sprint towards her front door in so much of a frenzy of excitement that she has momentarily forgotten about yours and Joel’s existence, “she told me about your mom.” Joel squeezes your shoulder, not enough for it to hurt, but enough for you to know that he means his words, and is trying to make up for his awkward delivery of them, “if I’d have known I wouldn’t have said what I said.”

You hum, nervously achknowledging his odd way of apologizing.

For a split second he looks down at his old boots, the soles of them falling apart, shaking his head and muttering to himself at the same time. Then he clears his throat and meets your gaze, “I’m sorry - really, I am.”

Two words you never expected to hear from Joel Miller.

NOW

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

'It's you - 's really you.'

Joel, just a few metres away from you, stares at your barely conscious body that had fallen into the stacks of hay bales behind you, knocking them all to the ground and ruining the neat orderly way that you'd first organised them a few days ago. Luckily the back of your head hadn't made any contact with the concrete or wooden shelving, narrowly missing them all on your way down. The thudding sound and force of your body hitting the stacks had sent hay flying and falling much slower than you did around and on top of you, covering you like an itchy fleece blanket.

They all rush to your side, Rick, Maria, Tommy, Jean and a teenage girl you didn't even know... Not Joel, he stays exactly where he is, static and bewildered, just as you had been minutes ago when you first turned and saw him.

He places his hand over his heart, rubbing up and down when he feels the beat of it becoming uncontrollably fast, causing his lips to tremble and let out fast and shaky breaths... it's the sight of you laying there, unable to move because of him, but he cannot bring himself to drag his eyes away for his own good.

He's so sure that you'll vanish if he does, that he'll look away and none of this will have been real, that Tommy isn't here and Jackson is just a figment of his imagination.

The man who owned Jackson Ranch, Rick, Joel had found out, scooped you into his arms effortlessly. Joel was introduced to the younger man by Tommy and Maria, who were being very obvious about their uneasiness as soon as they led him and Ellie towards the ranch during a very tense tour of Jackson... It was crystal clear to Joel that something was going on that he didn't know about by the way that Maria whispered in Tommy's ear the closer they got to the stable.

Joel caught a few snippets by turning his head to the right so that his good ear faced the direction of their private discussion...

'You don't know her like I do, Tommy.'

'What're you talkin' about? 'Course I do.'

'No, you don't - not anymore... I'm telling you, she is not ready for this.'

'She's gonna find out sooner or later - might as well be sooner, don't you think?'

Perhaps some part of Maria agreed with her husband, she stayed silent after that.

Joel still had no idea what the fuck they were talking about and if there was one thing that pissed him off, it was being left in the dark, especially after travelling all this way, convinced that his little brother was in serious trouble and needed rescuing, or dead and needed burying.

He got so impatient that he was even considering killing Tommy himself there and then, right in the middle of the stable in front of all the horses, Ellie, everybody... but he decided against it, wanting to uncover whatever mystery Tommy and Maria were trying to hide from him.

'You gonna tell me?' He interrupted them just as they stepped out onto the snowed over grazing grounds for the horses, ignoring the confused looks he received from Rick, Jean and Ellie.

'Tell you what?' Both Maria and Tommy blurted at the same time.

'Whatever the fuck it is you're tryin' to hide.'

Maria sent a look towards her husband.

'Brother, you might wanna take a few breaths before I tell—’

'Tell me before I do somethin' I regret.'

'It's—'

That's when Joel saw you walking out of a barn and towards the shelter full of hay.

He'd recognise you anywhere, even after how long it'd been since he saw you last.

Sixteen goddamn years.

The thought ran through his mind, that he’d finally succumbed to his old age and was losing it... Exhausted after travelling across the country.

But then it all made sense... you were the reason why Tommy and Maria had been acting so shifty about leading him here.

You worked here.

You lived here.

He managed to croak out your name in the midst of his shock before he shoved himself through Tommy and Maria and headed in your direction, calling out for you louder.

Tommy and Maria quickly caught up with him, telling him to 'slow down', to 'think about this' while the others followed close behind, but he ignored them all, focused entirely on you holding a hay bale in your arms.

It was you.

It was really you.

You're really here... Here in Jackson.

Seeing you cradled in Rick's arms, your face in the crook of his neck, your tears staining his skin and your knees bent over his arm, Joel realises just how real you are. You are a real, living and breathing person made up of organs, limbs and skin that he once knew and not some story-book character from a chapter he'd read a long time ago.

"Can I - do somethin'?" Joel finds himself asking Rick while staring at your mostly motionless form.

Rick had also been staring down at you, tracing his fingertips over the creases at the bend of your knee to soothe your distressed mumbling and restless stirring... That is until he hears Joel's voice, the helplessness of his tone not going unnoticed, but Rick is too angry to care about it.

Dealing with another Miller arriving in Jackson is not his current priority... you are.

"I think you've done enough for now, don't you?" Rick spits with a glare directed at Joel that doesn't waver until after he passes the older man and sets his eyes on the metal gates leading onto one of the many streets in Jackson. Your street, your house, it is only a small distance from the stable and Rick is determined to get you there, "let's get you home," he mumbles, the stubble on his chin tickling your forehead.

Joel watches Rick's every move until the two of you disappear, too small for him to see, even if he squints.

Maria pulls Ellie aside and Tommy brings a hand to Joel's shoulder, shaking it a little to divert Joel's attention onto him. Joel's eyes, full of unanswered confusion, flicker erratically across Tommy's familiar facial features, grasping desperately for anything recognisable in order to try and make sense of a situation he never pictured happening - seeing you again.

Tommy's moustache, though it's darker than Joel's graying facial hair, it mirrors his own. The same eyes and hair, although again, Joel's show signs of his aging with the odd gray hair and sunken eyes that have seen way too much. After studying Tommy's similar freckles dotted along his smoother, paler skin... Joel found that he still couldn't make sense of any of it, which alarms him to a disturbingly high degree.

On the rare occasion that Joel had no idea what to do, Tommy would be there - his little brother was surprisingly good at that, given the amount of times Joel had to take charge and save his ass when it came to money or business.

When Sarah died in Joel's arms, you were there, Tommy was there too. His little brother knew that there was nothing that could be done to save his precious niece... She was gone.

Joel was hysterical, in no place to make any rational decisions, and neither were you after watching your best friend take her last breath... it only got worse when the realisation dawned on the three of you that there was no time or way of burying her, the infected were everywhere, soldiers were everywhere.

It was chaos.

Tommy took matters into his own hands. He led you both to safety that night, over a bridge and eventually to a triage clinic.

Right now Joel only sees doubt in Tommy's eyes, even his little brother doesn’t know what to do, "Tommy - I—" his voice cracks.

Tommy gives Joel his best attempt at a reassuring smile, "C'mon - we'll talk over a drink."

For the first time in a long time, Joel feels useless.

A drink could help take the edge off a little.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You can hear distant, panicked voices surrounding you, but you can't see, nothing but darkness anyway.

It's a safe place... away from Joel.

He may have somehow managed to find you in Jackson, but he could never find you here in this state between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You focus on the gentle rocking of your body, calming words spoken into your ear, and even though you have no clue what is being said it lulls you into a peaceful rest until you're still, no longer being cradled or lullabied, you're laying on your mattress alone.

In an instant you don't as safe as you did before.

The blackness that envelopes you turns red.

Blood.

You're drowning in it again.

There hadn't been any time to take a long breath, you’re engulfed by it immediately this time and your legs kick violently, swimming your way up towards the surface before whatever it was that grabbed you last time could wrap itself around your ankles and drag you down further.

It had to be Joel, a monstrous, inhuman devil incarnate of him that is trying to kill you in various ways.

Part of you questions why you can't hear his voice.

Or see him.

He’s always here.

Maybe he's waiting for you to reach the surface of this pool of death that knows no limit.

The crimson redness of your vision becomes lighter as you near your survival, throwing your arms out as widely as you can just for one breath of fresh air… that's all that matters, not the likelihood of him being there at the finish line - you're that desperate as you feel yourself choking through gurgling, metallic-tasting screams.

Mid-scream, your face comes into contact with the surface and you squint, seeing the silhouette of a broad-shouldered being above you. Joel had been waiting for you here rather than below, teased you into believing that you could escape, given you hope only for it to backfire.

You decide in a split second that lashing out on him is your last possible resort to escape, so you reach above your head as you take prolonged, exaggerated breaths.

"Woah - hey - hey, it's me!" A voice unfamiliar to your nightmares calls to you.

It's Rick.

Your eyes fly open, panicked, and you’re breathing rapidly through your mouth. You've got the collar of Rick's off-white shirt balled into your fists, frozen when you realise that none of it had been real. You’re laying in bed, your bedding soaked with sweat again.

Rick's face is close and his large hands are wrapped around your wrists, urging you with small tugs to loosen your tight grip on his shirt, "it's me," he repeats calmly.

"R-Rick?" You murmur as if you're unsure, but you can see that it's him and not Joel, or Tommy even, because your side lamp is on, the light of it hitting the left side of his face.

"Yeah," he murmurs as quietly as you had questioned him, "you were havin' a nightmare."

You feel your cheeks flush when you notice your thumbs coming into contact with Rick's jugular, still in attack mode, "sorry - I - I thought you were—" Joel - you stop yourself, but Rick isn't stupid, he knows exactly who you mistook him to be, "someone else."

"Hm," Rick leans forward on the wooden chair beside your bed and brings his hands together to rest on the edge of your mattress.

He looks worn out by the events of the day... It's dark out now, he must've been sat with you since you'd passed out at the shelter.

Oh shit.

Pearl.

Shimmer.

The thought of them starving makes you jolt your upper half up and tear your duvet off of you, "Shimmer - Pearl, they need feedin' - I - they’ll be wondering where I a—"

"They've been fed - don't you worry about that," he coaxes you back down without laying a hand on you, but you notice that you're no longer wearing your work jacket or boots, he must've taken them off while you were asleep.

"What? How? Pearl would never let you do that."

Rick nods, "Jean's been coverin' for me while I've been here 'n' - y'know Jean is Pearl's second favorite, you bein' her first of course," he talks to you as if you hadn't been on the verge of killing him minutes ago which calms your nerves, but it doesn't stop you from feeling guilty about it.

You nod, frowning. The red marks that you'd left on his neck are starting to bruise, "I'm so sorry, Rick."

"For what?"

"These," you mutter, timidly reaching out to point out the red patches, your index finger accidentally brushing one of them, "shi—"

"'S okay... Didn't get me quite so bad this time," he smiles, a glint of cheekiness in his eyes.

The fact that he's joking with you instantly relaxes you, but your back rests against your bed's headboard only for you to jolt forward again a second later, "but - the whole ranch - all your workers - they must be wonderi—"

"Maria got some extra hands in. Everything is covered so stop your fussin', you'll give yourself another concussion."

You huff, reluctantly sinking back against the headboard again, nodding. "Where's Maria now?"

Rick blinks up at you, "at the Tipsy Bison - probably helpin' Seth with clearin' up."

Shit.

You whip your head in the direction of the digital clock stood on the middle of your side-table by your lamp and that same framed photo of your mom you had on your desk in Austin twenty years ago.

21:57.

Triple shit.

The movie.

The 'date' - with Rick.

"Oh Rick - the movie," you sigh, wanting to just deflate back into your bed and cocoon yourself in your duvet.

Rick chuckles, "didn't want to see it anyway." His face flushes pink, making the forming bruises even more red than they were before, "I er - was only goin' for you, thought that much was obvious."

You smile shyly at his confession, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes and Rick sees it.

You wanted to see the movie.

You wanted to go on that 'date' with Rick.

You wanted to make amends with Maria... Tommy too.

Rick, careful not to startle you, slides his right hand across your sheets towards your own one that is laying palm-side up and slack beside your thigh. He watches as his warm fingertips brush over yours before searching your eyes, which instantly widen at his touch and meet his, "there's always tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

He nods, his already messy slicked back hairstyle from running his fingers through it all day to ease his stress falls in front of his ears, the curls at the tip of each strand framing his ocean eyes. "If you're feelin' any better, yeah, tomorrow - after work. We'll meet at the Tipsy," he slides his hand further over yours, testing the waters, "how about it?"

"Sure."

"Alright then - it's a date."

He covers your hand completely with his own and finally, you respond, turning your hand underneath his so that they're in the form of an 'x' and curling your fingers over his knuckles.

In the moment you don't feel so bad about passing out in front of several pairs of eyes because it got you here - yes, with an uncomfortable headache and a sore back, but also an actual date with Rick.

A firm knock at your front door bellows throughout your house, so loud that you feel the vibration of it in your bones too.

Rick lets out a small groan of annoyance while you jump out of your skin, your hand shaking underneath his. He diverts his attention back to you from the open doorway leading to the landing and staircase. "Must be that asshole again," he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head, disappointed at your moment being ruined by whoever it is.

Your eyebrows furrow... what asshole could he mean? "Tommy?"

It's not Tommy, you know it. He wouldn't show up at your house out of the blue like this, Maria wouldn't let him and he'd have listened to her.

No, you know who it is, you can see it in Rick's eyes too, the answer - you just don't want to admit it.

"No - the other one—" he breaks eye contact, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, which is holding his like a vice, "Joel."

If your head didn't hurt before, it certainly hurts now.

Your breath hitches, "J—"

"He's been out there knockin' all day."

"Did you - answer?"

"I did.” Rick bites his lips together.

"Heee - say anythin' to you?" You ask without thinking, curious, your heart hammering inside your chest harder than Joel is knocking.

"Not much... just that you're - old friends." 'Old friends' - that's one way of putting it - Rick notices the way that you tense up at Joel's exact words, "he - er - wanted to see you—" you subconsciously shake your head, "yeah, I figured as much so I told 'im to leave - this is the—" Rick counts, looking down at his fingers while he does, "sixth time he's come back."

You find that hard to believe at first, surely Maria would've warned him off, Tommy too... Then you remember that Joel was never one for rules that weren't his own.

He won't leave.

Not until he sees you.

What does he want from you?

To sit and reminisce on the old days with an 'old friend'?

Like they’re something fond to look back on - like they hold a dear place in your hearts - like you hadn't tried to forget them all with every ounce of your being for the last sixteen years - like you could forget what he did to all those innocent people... to you.

What more could he want from you than all of the time he'd already taken? Another minute - another hour - another day? Week? Year?

Your hand abruptly slips away from Rick's at the same time another knock is planted against your front door.

You look to the photo of your mom beside you.

Although the glass in front of it is cracked and the frame holding it is chipped from travelling with you from place to place since the beginning of the outbreak, the radiance of her smile hasn’t faded after everything and you still pleaded for advice from her from time to time…

She’d tell you to go open the door.

"Everythin's fine—" Rick nods before rising from the chair, "I'll just - send him on his way - again... and bring you up a glass of water," he mutters unconvincingly, knowing that it's not going to work - you know that it's not going to work.

Your hand reaches out to grab Rick's wrist, immediately he stops in his tracks to assist you with anything you need. He's prepared, tired as he is, to sit beside you all night until Joel eventually gets too tired to play this 'cat and mouse' game with you... but little to Rick's knowledge, you've already admitted defeat. You shake your head, "no—" your throat bobs up and down, "I'll do it."

Rick opens his mouth to argue, but nothing he can say will change your mind - or at least you don't want him to try to, otherwise you fear that Joel will be waiting for you outside forever.

"It's got to be me."

He nods once before stepping aside so that you have the space to lift yourself onto your feet, then he follows, keeping a hand in line with your back in case you lose balance. You're grateful for his help because your legs feel like jelly, wobbling with each step you take. Whether it's because of the fall earlier or Joel Miller at your door, you're not sure - probably both. You're also grateful for his support in your decision to answer the door yourself, you're not so sure you would if you had been on your own. You could imagine yourself laying in bed, Joel knocking like he is now, and doing nothing but hold your pillow over your ears.

The silence between you and Rick on the way to your front door would be deafening if all your thoughts running around in circles came to a halt and your heart's unusually fast pounding came to a stop.

You have a home, a life and work that Joel cannot interfere with anymore.

You're at the bottom of the staircase.

You have work in the morning and he can't be there when you leave so you might as well get rid of him now.

You're standing directly at the front door.

You might think this is stupid now, but you'll be thanking yourself tomorrow, when you're drinking with Rick and completely Joel-less.

You're gripping onto the door handle like it's a life or death decision, whether you choose to twist it or not.

This is the good kind of defeat that'll finally allow you to move on with your life, to say a final goodbye to Jo—

You open the door.

The door that acted as a wall between you is knocked down and you're exposed to the brown eyes that had the ability to turn you into a puddle of mush all those years ago. You're terrified that if you look into them again you'll find out that they still have that same effect, but you force yourself to anyway, convinced that this'll be the last time you’ll ever have to face him.

Joel's mouth is ajar - he'd expected for it to be Rick answering again just to tell him to leave.

He's still wearing the same clothes that he was wearing when you first saw him, but your vision is much less blurry than it had been before. He looks cold, his lips almost the shade of the purple grapes that grew in several batches outside the greenhouses during the summer this year. You watch them closely as he mouths what looks like 'it's you', but his lips must be so numb from waiting out here for you that they aren't moving the way he wants them to.

Your breath hitches when you sheepishly meet each other's eyes, neither of you blink, you just stare until you physically can't anymore - when your eyes start stinging, begging you to just close them for one millisecond, but even that's too long.

"Can I - come in?" He manages to ask, hugging his arms around himself, squeezing, but you're too busy examining everything that you'd missed earlier, everything that had changed since you last saw him: he has more salt than pepper hair on his cheeks and above his top lip, a scar under his eye, new wrinkles engraved into his skin and the scar on his right temple is much more faded than you remember it to be... he looks disheveled, but that isn’t new, Joel looked scruffy most of the time before, but now he looks even more like time had passed him by without even realising it, without him doing a single thing for his own health— the man himself interrupts by saying your name, "please."

His voice and your name had been a brutal combination from the moment that he first said it when he knocked on the door of your home back in Austin, so you're not surprised at your brain spiralling, trying desperately to process it without malfunctioning.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rick chimes in, making his presence known to Joel, making it clear that while he had been out here freezing his ass off, Rick had been with you in your home.

It pisses Joel off, that Rick had had all this time with you alone, and as soon as he gets the opportunity to have some with you, he is being interrupted by some uppity stranger he'd not met twelve hours ago that clings onto you like fungus clings onto infected. "Do you mind backin' off a little, buddy?"

"Actually I d—" Rick goes to step in front of you, but you stop him by placing your hand flat on his chest.

"Rick," you scold him in a whisper, instantly grabbing the attention of both men.

Joel's eyes are wide while yours are peeking up at him, "what're you thinkin'?"

"I think she wants you to leave," Rick blurts, unwilling to back away like Joel had told him to.

"That might be what you're thinkin', not what she is—"

If looks could kill, Rick would be slaughtered by Joel and dead on the floor - your heart thuds at the possible outcome of this conversation if Rick didn't shut the hell up. "Rick!" You push at his chest with the hand that is still resting on it, "I've got this."

"You’re sure?" He asks, giving Joel the stink eye.

"Mhm, go fetch me that glass of water."

Rick nods, his eyes suspiciously flickering between you and Joel before he leaves the two of you alone... You didn't want this either, to be alone with the man who haunted your mind night and day, but if you wanted to end this once and for all, Rick couldn't be here gritting his teeth at Joel every five seconds.

"Now that your puppy dog is outta the way—" Joel keeps rubbing at his sides, “is it what you want?" His eyes, focused, trying to spot any trace of doubt in yours, "f'me to leave?"

Yes... no - god, you don't know anymore. The fact that he's giving you the choice disturbs you, like it's a trick question.

What'll he do if you say no?

Or if you say yes?

Why couldn't he just force his way into your home and be done with it?

You nod your head unconsciously - yes, you want him to leave, but you can't let him leave, not yet. You exhale, not believing that you're about to let source of your nightmares into the safety of your home, "no."

His thick coat, the colour of damp sand, brushes past the arm of your t-shirt, the same one that you put on for work this morning, it's just as discoloured as his from hanging around horses all day every day… You hadn't felt self-conscious about your appearance until now, stood directly under the main light of your living room.

Joel looks uncomfortable too under the bright light, knowing how much he had changed in the last sixteen years - how much older he must look to you now.

Just say it... tell him that you never want to see him again.

"J-Joel - I - I never—"

"This where you been all this time?"

There it is... the reason why you had left him and Tess without a word. He wouldn't have let you go without interrogating you, without trying to talk you out of it, knowing that you would've listened - and probably stayed in the same miserable situation, stuck in the Boston QZ, pregnant, living with a man who you feared that you didn't know anymore, who you loved, who was willing to sacrifice you and your unborn baby for supplies... and with his partner, who you had to listen to him fuck every night for two years.

A part of you doesn't want him to know what you went through to get here, what you sacrificed, what life had been like since then... that it hadn't been what you hoped for it to be. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that there was some regret on your part for jumping ship.

You wouldn't have lost your baby.

Charlie would still be breathing.

No, he can’t know the prices you had to pay.

"No," you nibble on your bottom lip.

"That's it—" he breathlessly chuckles, but he's not happy, far from it, "that's all you got for me?"

"It's the truth." The very vague truth.

"No it ain't."

"Yes it—" you're prepared for a back and forth of 'no it ain'ts' and yes it is-es', but Rick interrupts, bringing in your glass of water, which you snatch and chug down in a matter of seconds before slamming the empty glass onto the coffee table between you and Joel. The glass doesn't break, but the ring underneath wobbles on the table's surface due to the trembling of your hands, "is," you finish before muttering a 'thank you' in Rick's direction.

"No problem. I'll just be - in the kitchen," Rick sighs out, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "call me if you need anythin'."

You nod, watching Joel closely as he murderously watches Rick leave the room.

The sound of glass circling over wood fades into silence.

Joel's eyes are back on you in a flash, "where were you before you got here?"

You shrug your shoulders, "I - I don't remember - we moved around a lot."

"We?"

"Mhm."

"Who's we?"

"Maria's group."

Joel's lips tighten into a thin line, mustering up more questions in his head. In a swift few movements he pinches his gloves off of his hands, flinging the garments onto the two-seater couch to his left and bringing a hand up to his forehead, rubbing his fingers over the creases on his skin, "'Maria - she find you out there?"

You gulp, blinking at him, "a - handful of her people took me to her."

"When?" He peeks at you through his fingers.

Your bottom lip quivers - why'd he have to do this? Why'd he have to remind you of the worst day of your life? "W-winter," your eyes gloss over, but you refuse to let any tears fall, sucking them back behind your eyes only for them to block your nose and make you sniffle, "sixteen years ago."

Joel's fingers trail over his nose, pinching the bridge of it with his index finger and thumb - his eyes are closed, "where?"

"A small town in Colorado - Silverton."

"Colorado," he repeats under his breath, letting his hand fall away from his face so that he can really see your raw reaction to his next question, "was Charlie with you?" Your jaw falls, immediately about to answer his question, that yes, your friend was with you, and you wouldn't have made it to Colorado alive without her... but Joel stops you before you can spill the truth in a frantic moment of weakness, "'cause there ain't no way you got to Colorado from Boston on your own."

You inhale a shaky breath, holding it in to distract you from his intimidation, "Charlie w-wasn't with me."

Joel shakes his head, looking down at the varnished floorboards under his boots, "so you're sayin' 's just a coincidence that she vanished into thin air the same night you did?"

"Yes," you lie as well as you possibly can, it's easier when he isn't staring at you. "I got to Colorado from Boston all on my own - in a car."

“A car?”

“Those metal things with four wheels—”

“Don’t do that - you know what I mean.”

“Fine. I found one with some gas on the freeway - it took me all the way there.”

Lie - lie - lie.

Silence takes over the room again as Joel processes all of the answers you had given him to questions that ran through his head more than he’d like to admit, they fill a crater on his brain that'd been left there since the morning he saw yours and Charlie's sleeping bags unzipped and empty - with no trail to follow, nothing... you'd gone, for good - or so he thought.

You're restlessly tapping your foot on the floor when Joel lifts his head again, anticipating the last question of his interrogation, one that you will have to answer with nothing but the truth, instead, he examines the room. All the furniture came with the house that Maria assigned to you, there were a few odd bits and pieces that you'd gotten from trades: books, cds, a boombox, a rug, flowers... it's not much, but it's yours.

"And the baby?" He'd been searching for any sign of him, photos on the walls of your son, drawings, toys... any indication that a teenage version of you was living here too. His search stops when he realises that there's nothing and he looks to you again, genuinely afraid of your answer, but his eyebrows raise, silently urging you to just say it - he'd avoided asking long enough already.

You knew it is was coming, but when the question actually leaves his lips you cannot stop the singular tear that falls from your eye. The liquid mixes with the blood pooling around your bottom row of teeth on the inside of your bottom lip from biting it so hard - the taste of your emotional and physical pain on your tongue at the same time.

"H-he - he didn’t make it."

'He', Joel mouths and bows his neck with a shaky sigh, taking a moment of silence for the baby boy that had kicked his large hand from under your skin, the baby boy he never got to meet, but had spent so much time with through your pregnancy. "H-he—" Joel's voice cracks, alerting your ears, you've never heard him do that. He places his hand over his heart, "how - when did he—"

You shake your head, warning him to just stop with the questions.

"I need to know - please." He looks so lost, his eyes round and glossy... You knew that pain all too well and you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he was really feeling it too.

"No - you don't," you state, your voice weak but as cold as ice, another tear rolling down your face. "What happened to my son has nothing to do with you."

"It sure as hell does!" He steps around the coffee table closer to you as he raises his voice, only for you to flinch and take a step back, desperately trying to keep the space between you before you melt into his arms like you always craved to before.

It did - it had everything to do with Joel.

After all, ‘Miller’ was your son’s last name, and you were constantly reminded of it whenever you visited his grave to replace his flowers.

"My life - my boy's life, it stopped having anything to do with you when you used us as bait for some fuckin' medicine and ammo," your harsh, but true words slip out of your lips and after, you could hear a pin drop it's so quiet.

Joel looks ashamed, guilty. His lips are downturned and the tiniest of tears falls from his own eyes... he no longer looks like the monster you imagined him to be in your nightmares, he is a pale imitation of himself. "I'm sorry,” he says gently, so unlike the venomous voice he used to threaten victims as a hunter, but he knows that this is an apology that could never make what he did right.

You take a slow breath, preparing to say what you'd let him into your home to say, "if - you - really mean it… leave. I never want to see you again."

You did it - you finally did it.

He's fighting himself, you can tell, his lips are doing that thing where they twitch as his nose scrunches up... It's not in his nature to do what he is told when he wants to do the opposite, but he also knows that the best and only option for him now is to leave... to do what Ellie wants him to do, to take her to the Fireflies and leave Jackson.

"You heard her," Rick announces from behind you again, he must’ve been alerted by the raising of voices and for a moment you wonder how much he’d heard.

Joel ignores Rick this time, nodding at you and sniffling back his tears before swiftly leaving the room, making sure to collide his shoulder with Rick's on the way out of your house.

The door slams, signalling Joel's exit.

Rick nods at you as a further confirmation.

You exhale out a long breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding in and collapse onto the couch beside you with your eyes closed, your hands landing on a rubbery texture that is definitely not your couch.

It’s Joel’s gloves.

Quadruple shit.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You wish that you could say you felt any better this morning, but that'd be a lie.

You'd been telling a lot of lies recently and you didn't want to get in the habit of doing it... but they had been your only protection from facing your past - facing Joel.

Old Beardy snorts next to your ear while you scratch under his chin, reminding you that he is also your protector, he’d never let anything bad happen to you. You lean your forehead against his, it calms the ache at the back of your head, which isn’t as in pain as you thought it’d be, and it also calms your shot nerves, giving you a moment to properly catch up on the rest that you didn’t get last night.

Rick left soon after Joel did, he told you to ‘get some rest’ and that he’d sign you off of work for the day… You decided that you’d come to work anyway because you know that you’re better off in the stables with the horses than anywhere else, let alone your bed… you had nightmares in that bed every goddamn night for the last seven years so what would’ve made today any different?

The stable door behind you opens and slams shut, immediately alerting you because either it’s Rick coming in to update the board of patrol shifts for today, or it’s a patroller who has come in wayyy too early for their shift.

You peek one eye open and look to your right, realising that it’s neither Rick or an overly eager early bird.

It’s Joel.

He strides with purpose into the stable in the same clothes he was wearing yesterday, looking like he’d had about as much sleep as you did judging by the dark bags underneath his bloodshot eyes.

Old Beardy snorts again, urging you to keep showering him with the love that he gets from you all the time while your temple is rested above his nose as Joel fiddles around with the horse tack located at the corner of the stable next to the patrol board… clearly he’d not spotted you, too engrossed in whatever he’s doing here this early in the morning.

You and Old Beardy observe the man from afar as he picks up a bridle, saddle and an attachable bag, carrying them over to Callus’ stall - the stallion seems familiar with him, not fussing when Joel starts to pet, then dress him.

Is he doing what you think he’s doing?

Leaving - just as you told him to?

And on Callus?

“I’ll be right back, boy - I promise,” you whisper to Old Beardy, looking him in the eyes as you say it so he knows that you’re telling the truth before you intend to discreetly sneak out of the stable and report Joel’s attempted horse theft to Rick, wherever he is.

But Old Beardy, stubborn and talkative as he is, grumpily neighs so loudly that the sawdust from the old wood of the stable falls due to the vibration that the noise sends through each and every slat.

That’s your plan ruined.

Old Beardy has probably woken up the entire population of Jackson and you’re aware that your cover is well and truly blown… Joel is already staring at a frozen, crouched and wide-eyed you in the midst of placing the saddle he’d taken onto Callus’ back. 

This is awkward, given the last thing you’d said to him was ‘I never want to see you again’. You meant what you said, and definitely hadn’t considered the likely possibility of bumping into him this morning…

You stand up straight, resorting back to your normal posture stood in front of Old Beardy’s stall, giving the horse beside you a dead pan look that doesn’t last a second because you can never stay mad at any of your beloved four-legged friends.

“I see you haven’t got your barkin’ boyfriend on a leash this mornin’,” Joel grumbles, turning his attention back to attaching the saddle to the obedient Callus.

“I believe the ‘b’ word you’re lookin’ for is boss—” you grumble right back, bravely taking a few steps towards Callus’ stall so that you can see Joel’s entire rugged figure and block the gate, not letting him leave… not with Callus, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“Yeah you made that perfectly clear last night,” he grunts as he tugs at one of the saddle’s buckles, tightening it just enough.

You furrow your brows, planting your hands at each wooden post, ignoring the splinters threatening to impale your skin in your effort to trap Joel into the confined square, “what’re you doing?”

Your attempt at interrogating him catches Joel’s attention, he glances at you over his shoulder with his hands outstretched over the horse’s middle. His nose is red from the cold, or maybe from crying, and you try your best not to falter, not to show that you care because you don’t - you can’t. You expect his answer to be as shut off as your own had been, an ‘ain’t no business of yours what I’m doin’ or a ‘leave me the hell alone’, but he doesn’t say either, “ain’t it obvious?”

“I’m not letting you go with Callus.”

“Thought it was what you wanted - f’me to leave.”

“I’m not letting you steal Callus,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes while correcting yourself.

The determination fades from his features, like he’d expected you to change your mind about wanting him to leave. His eyes stay trained on you anyway, taking one last long look like he always did before he lost someone he cared about to a bite, to a gunshot wound… this almost seemed worst, you’re alive and he’d finally found you but you wanted nothing to do with him anymore - you’re slipping through his fingers again.

“I’m borrowin’ Callus,” he corrects you, resuming his movements, stuffing a few supplies that Maria or Tommy had probably given him because he cannot look at you any longer - treating you like you’re already a pile of ash on the ground.

Your grip on the poles to either side of you weakens until you completely let go, “w-what?”

“Your boss said I could take him with me.”

“Take him where?”

A small huff of a laugh leaves Joel’s lips, but you don’t see it because you’re face to face with the back of his head, “Eastern Colorado.”

Eastern Colorado?

Is this all some kind of sick joke to him?

He’s actually… leaving?

With Callus?

And Rick’s approval?

You don’t believe him.

Joel has been here not even for a day and he’s going to get you in trouble.

After all the bullshit that you’d put Rick through, this is the bullshit that is going to get you fired?

Your hands ball into fists, knuckles brushing against the gloves that he left on your couch. You’d snatched them on the way out of your house this morning, about to chuck them in the trash, but then you decided against it, figuring that they’d be worth trading in for something so you tucked them into the waistband of your jeans… you’d forgotten about them until now.

Now that you notice the material of them against your skin, it burns. You reach for them and roughly tug them away, expecting to see bubbling ulcers and blood on your hips, but there aren’t.

Relying entirely on your anger in this moment, not your racing heart, your fragmented breaths or your doubtful brain, you stride towards Joel. He turns quickly upon hearing your loud footsteps brushing through hay on concrete, his hands flying upward at the same time yours do, both your defence mechanisms responding to each other’s with a dramatic flinch of your bodies.

“H-here’s your - stupid gloves,” you grit your teeth as you shove them into his hands after you both realise that neither of you intended to scare the other out of their skin.

You try desperately not to make any contact with him as you do it, like Old Beardy avoided touching you at first, because you’re also terrified of what his touch will do to you. How it’d probably send you into another episode, another series of sleepless nights and nightmares… How it’d break you if you made skin to skin contact again, you’d fall for him all over again, you’re sure of it, but you have no choice against the matter because as soon as your hands are in reaching distance, he takes them into his, gripping onto you like his life depends on it.

A small hiss leaves your lips as the coldness of his skin on yours burns more than his gloves did, but you don’t run from it… and there’s no pool of blood or dead bodies to be seen.

It’s just Joel - the real Joel, not the bloodthirsty alter ego of him you’d conjured up inside your head that you once knew him to be capable of being back in Boston.

“I’ve got somethin’ that needs takin’ care of at the university there—” his thumbs brush over your fingers when he sees that you’re lost in the physical contact between you, he bows his head towards yours, luring your panicked eyes away from his closed hands around yours, “listen to me - I’m comin’ back… and if Tommy and Maria let me - I’m stayin’—”

You shake your head.

“I’m gonna try to make things right between us—”

You shake your head again.

“‘Nd if you still want me to leave I will - I promise you’ll never see me again.”

The stable door swings open before you can rip your hands away and scream at him, the words on the tip of your tongue...

‘It’s too late to make things right.’

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ⇝

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 (𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫😭😭

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞’ 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒

@eaterof-concrete @exzidss @pedrosgrogu @whirlwindrider29 @ccmoonshine @wheatmaze @hayleynott @peelieblue @senoratess @sunnypeachdream @puddles221b @kirsteng42 @piercethevic03 @bardot49 @maybe-a-bi-witch @xwackk @mellymbee @aurelialou @hjzghi-blog @dendulinka6 @hhjhgdaiqoqoan @holmesblogger @areyoutheretoru @dailyobsession @youusunshineyoutemptress @deansgirlsworld @merz-8 @orcasoul

𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

𓃗

[tavyliasin]

BG3 2025 Creative Challenge!

Baldur's Gate 3 Fandom Artists, Writers, and Creatives!

I would like to invite you to a year of prompts to create whatever you would like! SFW, NSFW, whatever medium you would like to create in, the choice is yours! The idea is that we have on prompt per month so it should be easier to follow along without becoming overloaded. You don't have to create something specifically for the event either - if you have a WIP or other work you're publishing that month that fits the description you are more than welcome to add that in! I'll make a new post at the start of each month with the details of that month's challenge prompt, but this will be our masterpost to start the year off with a bang. Details below the cut!

The Year Of Prompts

January - New Year New You Pick a new character, trope, or pairing. Something you haven’t tried before. Make it a challenge to do something new and different! February - Romance Novels Go for something romantic, or if romance isn’t your cup of tea try something around the Necromancy of Thay instead! March - Marching Forwards March to your goal to finish a WIP or LongFic, or March into a new world by making something in an AU! April - Fools Rush In Make something humorous, something fun, whether it’s based on a meme or a joke pairing or just something with a bit more whimsy and some laughs~ May - Maybe? What If? Reverse a trope or reimagine a part of the canon - what if things were different? 

June - June Bugs Create something centred around a game glitch or exploit, past or present! July - Why Would July To Me? A piece around lies, deceptions, and other ways the truth can be twisted or obscured. August - When In Rome… A piece themed around the customs of specific races, backgrounds, regions, or Guilds. Are they followed or broken? That’s up to you! September - Seven Deadly Sins Pick one, or more, of the classic “seven deadly sins” and see how that can relate to one or more characters or tropes. October - Days of the Dead Create something around a character death, a memorial, a lingering ghost, or find a way a character might cheat their death or be brought back from it~ 

November - Gnomevember Either create something centred on Gnome characters from the game, or the other story points around them (Steel Watch, Iron Throne, Runepowder, etc) December - Season of Giving Create a surprise gift for someone in fandom, or write a piece around a gift being given by or to a character or characters!

Rules

The rules are very simple!

Create your piece in 2025, preferably within the prompt month but if you post a little early or late that's fine too!

All pieces must be your creations or a collaboration - No AI or chatbot content

You are free to work in whatever medium you like for each and every prompt!

Set your own goal - you can do a short 100-500 word minific, some simple sketches, or write a whole 10k word one shot epic, or draw a full page comic. What matters is that it's a goal YOU want to achieve!

There will be options to submit prompts and fill prompts in the AO3 collections - this is entirely your choice! You can take a prompt if you like, work on something you had already started, or create something entirely new!

Have fun!

The Goal

The aim really is simple - to set some targets, and work on at least 12 things this year so at this time next year you can look back on your progress and celebrate your achievements. If you miss a month or turn in late, that's fine! Do what works for you!

AO3 Collections

For those of you that would like to, there will be a parent collection for the year event as a whole and some sub-collections for each month to allow us to keep everything nice and organised. It's completely optional if you would like to put your work on AO3 or not - you're more than welcome to just keep it on Tumblr or wherever you usually share your works!

This event is for you to use however you feel best, to inspire creativity, working towards manageable goals, and trying something different.

Social Media Tags

Use the tag #BG32025 if you would like to! I don't know if anyone else is using this one but I'll cross my fingers that we're the only ones~ Feel free to share the event and please do support each other through our creativity! A character or pairing or kink or trope might not be your cup of tea, but let's celebrate how it is there for someone else who might really enjoy it, and keep a positive and passionate view whilst respecting boundaries by tagging works appropriately as always <3

Thank you for reading this far and I hope to see you all through they year adding your works and creativity to our fandom <3 we have so much amazing talent here, I'm delighted to have the privilege of seeing it all~

[sunseed-fandump]

For the bad batch au.

Ok, here we go: What happened if they met the heroes in one of their anarchy acts? What if they found the vanilla kingdom and decided to make it some sort of headquarters or they still have the kingdom with them just rather fixing it, they just left it like that and also kicked out/threatened the sugar gnomes there.

How strong they are compared to the OG's?

While I already discussed how the kids feel about each hero in another post, I will talk about their headquarters!

It's where the Cookie Kingdom would have been. Now, there's a nice roomy castle that the kids call home. As for the Sugar Gnomes? Well, the kids tried to chase them off, but the gnomes kept coming back. They just really wanted to build stuff, y'know? And hey, we see you cookies are pretty homeless and we just overheard you talking about needing to find a place to stay! And since you saved our village from those cake monsters, let us build something for you! (The kids did not see the village and the monsters were in their way. The rescue was by total accident, but it worked out in their favor.)

The gnomes are still around the castle, doing maintenance and general upkeep. The kids tolerate their presence. Plus, the gnomes are good builders. Wizard has a nice big lab all to himself. Wild Strawberry has a place to train and her own game room. Gingerbrave has a huge walk-in freezer for his collection of parts. It everything a group of crazy little anarchists needs hidden away in the mountains!

As for how strong they are compared to their Canon counterparts... That's kind of hard to gauge since the Canon Gingerbrave crew are capable of holding their own on Beast-Yeast and in dangerous territory like Shadow Milk Cookie's Spire. So while the Bad Batch definitely have a lot more in terms of versatility, I'd say its possible for them to be on equal standing - at least in terms of story. In terms of the actual video game, they'd absolutely be Epics instead of Commons.

[mimizumc]

Okay so, the world building. In tma au they are all human because I think it would be easier that way with meat and corruption being a factor. So they live in tma world with all the cults and institutes but the whole story takes place in the 80's and before the main story there was a large political or whatever organization like EU and it was called senate like in the IDW comics and decepticons protested against them and eventually destroyed them they are considered a terrorist organization but are more like league of super villains but it's way too cartoony for tma univers so terrorist it is. Autobots is organization that is sprout out as a reaction to decepticons and consist from anti terrorist squads all around the world merged into one new organization. Decepticon need to hide, so they're base is under water at the coasts of Mexico cuz I just think it's epic sigma and I'm leaning this reality more to 80's futurism then realism. So by the 80's war between Autobots and Decepticons began to combust and at one moment both Megatron and Optimus disappeared leaving Soundwave searching for Megatron while he has to make sure Decepticons won't turn in just a mess, Bumblebee and Hot Rod searching for Optimus while Ultra Magnus replacing Optimus. The main protagonist is Soundwave because he is so perfect for this role honestly and I'm just not that interested in autobots. He is marked by the eye but will transform into avatar, so he could find Megatron, but he would have to adjust to his new powers. Shockwave knows a lot about the entity's he was a fan of Lietners collection although found him kinda pathetic, he buried himself in the research of possible ways to use fears for decepticons and at one point isolated himself so much in research he became avatar of lonely. Part 1 of tma au Astrotrain and Blitzwing next, spoiler they are doomed.

[expanding-hyrule]

Story Spotlights Hub Post

Reference post for links and details on the Expanding Hyrule Story Spotlights community project.

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Original Post - Review Form - Reviews - Fic Archive - Art Archive

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Works In Need of Reviews

Looking to help support a creator in Expanding Hyrule? All of these works in our collection have yet to get enough reviews for a spotlight. Works need a minimum of 3 reviews to be featured, and will include up to 5 in their post, but you are welcome to submit more, the link to the responses is available on this post for creators to read the whole list.

You can find all these works linked in the archives listed above!

Short Projects (Concept boards, under 10 chapter fics, etc)

Song of the City by @/ReBuggy

Depths of the Darkness by @/Veelilu

In the Blood by @/Zeldas_Eyebrows

Vessels by @ro-blaze (2/3)

The inconsistences of fate by @stinkyguar

Linkubus by @/RoughInTheDiamond (1/3)

Fall Under Your Spell by @louwhose (1/3)

The Final Hyrule by @louwhose (1/3)

Red Dead Zelink by @/ghostgirl19 (1/3)

On the Shores of Change by @/leadernovaandthemacabre (1/3)

The Temporanaut by @/leadernovaandthemacabre

The Prince of Hyrule by @batrogers

Shadows of History by @palmolli

Tri-Time War by @ixtaek (1/3)

The Tale of the Realm Walker by @tnc-n3cl

Day After Destiny by @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet

Moderate Projects (Started comics, <50k fics, etc)

The Triforce Awakens by @sillylildude (2/3)

DadLink AU by @dadlink/@pluviatrix

Princess Link: Engaged to my sister's kidnapper??? by @sparkspsps (1/3)

Chained Truths AU by @mirensiart (2/3)

The Legend of the Three by @fablesfables

Lock and Key by @louwhose (1/3)

petrichor and bones by @/pastelsandpining

Into the Dark by @deiliamedlini

The Hand That Holds the Sword by @zarvasace

Restoration Age by @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet

Cinders of Life by @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet

Large Projects (Ongoing comics, <100k fics, etc)

Fighting Fate by @/Allendra

Desert Blight by @/jclbs

Path of the Infinite by @shadow_djinni (1/3)

Blooming in Adversity by @/botwriter

The Promise by @zeldaelmo (1/3)

A Conviction to Save by @advocaado

Inspiration, Illusions, and other Inconveniences by @zeldaelmo (1/3)

A Voice from the Desert by @avoicefromthedesert

Epic Projects (Long running comics, >100k fics, etc)

Hero by @karama9 (2/3)

All That Hurts Us by @karama9 (2/3)

The Hero of the Dunes by @webhead3345

The Golden Chain by @zeldadiarist (1/3)

Legacies & Bloodlines by @/nolansman

Unbroken by @deiliamedlini (2/3)

A Crossing of Stars by @ixtaek

Fighting Gravity by @/CrazygurlMadness

The Wondrous Adventures of the Righteous Maximus by @/Split Infinitive

Bright as Night by @/Allendra

Make a Wish, Make it Count by @/LiliansMalice

Cloak and Dagger by @crownedcrusader

The Weekly Hyrule News by @/BatNeko

Reality by @/Leila Editer

The Hunt by @/andrhars

And the Clouds Parted by @/SkyLeaf

I Belong To You by @mistresslrigtar (2/3)

The Magic Awakens by @/Scarlet_Curls

Alone With You by @deiliamedlini (1/3)

S.T.T. by @/AzrealTheStoryteller

Mark of a Hero by @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet (2/3)

Already Spotlighted Projects

| Alternate Triforce | The Baker and the Seamstress | Break the Wheel (post scheduled) | Captain Link Araki and the Harbinger of Destiny | The Curse of Demise (post scheduled) | Cycle of the Stars | Divine Gemstones | Fae & Fortitude (post scheduled) | The Fruitcake Campaign (post scheduled) | Goddess of Secrecy (post scheduled) | Guarding Zelda | The Hero and the Priestess | The King's Lament | A Link To The Stars | The Mage's Lantern | No More. Not One Single Time More | On My Honor | The Princess's Heart | Remnants of the Past | The Ritual of Lomei Labyrinth (post scheduled) | The Sea's Prophecy | Stone Fate | Strings of Fate (post scheduled) | Too Old to Keep | Triforce of Power | Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore (post scheduled) | Void's Grasp

[signanothername]

I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf

I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO

Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch

Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox

Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au

Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)

Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced

So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch

But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill

Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)

But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)

What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going

But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN

He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch

he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics

One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?

Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333

If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3

[ryin-silverfish]

Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox spirits

The inner core of foxes

Foxes and their association with Fire

Notable fox spirits

The foxes of 狐狸缘全传

Has Daji ever been worshipped as a goddess?

Fox masks

The foxes of Liaozhai

Weaknesses and abilities of fox spirits

Three resource collections on Chinese fox spirits: 1, 2, 3

Human-fox hybrids

Can foxes and their descendents magically know if someone's telling the truth?

The magical properties of fox saliva

Fox exams and Heavenly Foxes

Are male foxes more malicious?

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

Masterpost 2

[superscrub323]

A Little Elaboration on why a certain Animatic does the Lovers section of God Games the best

Alright if you've been following me you should know that one of my favorite tertiary characters in Epic the Musical is Ares and it's primarily because there's no reason for any version of the God of War to go harder on a verse than the God of Music yet Earle Gresham Jr. did so anyway and most of us, including those who write Warrior Penelope AU fanfics, thank him for it.

It's also a challenge for animators because while Apollo's and Hephaestus's verses and scenes are fairly straight forward, the primary challenge with Hera and Aphrodite is which glammed the fuck outfits they're going to be wearing, and Zeus needs to be depicted with all the pomp and grandiose we'd expect after hearing him proclaim his greatness and power in 'Thunder Bringer'; pretty every animatic artist universally agrees that Ares and Athena have to fight and flyte* at the same time and while all of them usually do a good job depicting the basic gist on how said fight usually goes, Ares temporarily having an edge over Athena, Athena emotionally rallying after Ares insults Telemachus, and Athena beating and/or intimidating Ares and Aphrodite into releasing him.**

But there is one animatic that does the Lovers section of God Games the best in fact it's the only part they've done and while I desperately hope they do the rest of the song they did the Lovers section so good it...sticks with me in ways that never leave my brain cavity and that's @sixofclovers's version of that part of a scene which...oh geez were do I start?

First off, one thing to notice is that while the character designs are simple but no less striking, it gives a chance to do things different from how animatics go, for example it opens with Athena having a lyre string and a hammer and giving it to her owl which is explained in the description stating that Athena in this version has to collect tokens from all the participants in Zeus's game, which in this case is Apollo's lyre string, Hephaestus's forge hammer, Aphrodite's pearl ear ring, (most likely) a peacock feather from Hera, and the golden ichor from Ares, which is already an interesting idea on it's own but that last one is pretty interesting in ways I'll get to later.

Then it cuts to Aphrodite and, unusually, she doesn't look seductive, flirty, or playful, she looks pissed at Athena and in tears while surrounded by a purple aura that is rapidly growing and when it comes in contact with Athena it compels her to cry and share her grief. Which also as a bonus forces Athena to be put on her back foot especially since as she weakly defends Odysseus with 'he was busy fighting' she has to wipe away her tears as Aphrodite sings 'more like busy spiting, the cyclops' she takes off her ear piercing and holds it to her eye in a striking visual way that references said Cyclops and begins to crush it in away that lets Athena know she finds her argument uncompelling until Athena in tears has to beg for Aphrodite to 'please reconsider this' while shapeshifting out of her armor symbolically making herself vulnerable before Aphrodite which causes her to loosen her grip on her pearl ear ring until...

'Really Athena? These old tricks?'

BAM

'Ares!'

And then Ares charges in and back hands her to the floor while Athena desperately barely gets time to magically summon her armor and shield to shield herself as Ares steps on her while Athena, and by proxy we the audience, get a good look at Ares and we see that he's crying along with Aphrodite and Athena which means that not only is Ares unaffected by Aphrodite's forced empathy making him cry, he shares it and is empowered by it. But as Ares gets to singing he kicks Athena away to give her a chance to get on her feet so Athena can prepare to get her grisly token Ares's of approval.

Another thing to note is that while the other 4 gods have personal objects they can give away as tokens, Ares's token is his ichor. Ares explicitly wants to clash spears with Athena and the only way he'll agree to release Odysseus is if she can draw ichor, not beat, just get a single cut of his blood which in turn paints a version of Ares that is confident in his ability to fight Athena under Aphrodite's forced empathy wave.

Said confidence is further backed up as while Athena is still on the back foot despite having her shield and spear already drawn, Ares doesn't even have his spear drawn yet and Athena is still on her back foot, and when Ares does draw his spear he draws it so fast it extinguishes 6 torches behind him which symbolizes the 6 men Odysseus sacrifices to Scylla as he calls out Odysseus unwillingness to even try to fight Scylla (didn't even try to kill her.)

And as Ares continues fighting Athena while he laments his cowardness, he beats her pretty evenly before throwing her to the ground while calling Telemachus pathetic and weak. Which in turn gives Athena a chance to channel the rage she feels at Ares for insulting her friend and to emotionally rally past Aphrodite's empathy wave but what is usual is that even when Athena is using her owl as a distraction to get Ares to turn his back for a surprise attack, she still can't get a clean cut on his neck...so instead she points to Aphrodite as she tells him 'And tell your lover that a broken heart can mend' and charges at her to force Ares to intercept Athena and catch the spear head.

And despite having the pointy end of a spear firmly in his hand it's still not enough to get him to draw blood and while Ares could probably kick Athena away and continue fighting, Aphrodite, who has been watching them fight, smiles in approval of Athena's willingness to protect her friends and Ares's protective nature (another thing that rarely gets shown) and hugs Ares from behind as if to tell him 'it's okay baby, you can let him go' and Ares grips the spear tighter and willingly draws his ichor thanks to Athena's urging to give Odysseus a chance to prove he isn't a coward and Aphrodite's approval of his release. Which is further demonstrated when Ares looks at Aphrodite who gives a smile not and they both say 'ugh...release them' as Ares gives Athena's owl Aphrodite's pearl earring covered in his blood so Athena can move on.

It's an amazing animatic that lets all 3 characters be more than how they're usually depicted in these animatic, Aphrodite doesn't get to be the sultry seductress, she gets to be aggrieved at Odysseus for letting his mom die, Athena gets a chance to show her ability to experience empathy and how dirty she can be in a fight, and Ares...gets to unironically (at least with Aphrodite helping him) be the martially superior God of War in a straight up fight and show emotions beyond rage and demonstrate his protective nature, and as an added bonus it's one of the few animatics where Athena does beat or intimidate Ares and Aphrodite into surrendering, they both give up of their own will which is...wow!

I hope the guys at Epic do that scene in a way that's something similar because...I can't get over how breathtaking it is and I once again shout out at sixcloveranimations for doing a fantastic job and doing it debatably the best.

*scold or in this case quarrel

**Special shout out to Neal the Illustrator, @anniflamma, and @gigizetz for having some of the best full animatics for God Games.

[rmd-writes]

Favourite LS Fandom Memories

This is such a sweet game that @thisbuildinghasfeelings came up with! Thanks also to @strandnreyes and @welcometololaland for the tags (Lola, I’m assuming that was a tag and if not, just lie and tell me it was).

Here’s 5 favourite things:

1. That time I started thinking about the legalities of Carlos putting TK on the deed to the loft

I was doing my skincare late at night, started pondering, and ended up reading both the Texan standard sale of property contract and the Texan Property Law Act at midnight, then I woke up to a very lengthy fandom discussion about how it might have happened. Even better was that this discussion spawned a debate about the ownership of Schitt’s Creek and how that could possibly have worked elsewhere.

Which brings me to my next favourite thing:

2. The fandom Venn Diagrams

I was drawn into LS because @clottedcreamfudge kept sending me the Butt Bounce™️ gif (you know the ones, from 1x02) and then @three-drink-amy shared the proposal and I was sold. I’d already seen a lot about the gay howdy wee woo show a bunch of mutuals were watching so it wasn’t a hard sell.

The overlapping fandoms delight me though! I love seeing people from one fandom start with liking gif sets and then they start rb them and then I see them pop up in my ao3 emails so much. I love being told that I’ve posted so many Tarlos gifs that someone started watching just to see what it’s about. I especially loved those of you who tried so hard to resist the inevitable, only to end up creating gif sets and writing fics.

I love it so much because that was me too, desperately trying not to fall too hard into a third fandom 😅

3. Beta reading

I’ve had the privilege of getting to beta read, help plot and brainstorm some of the most (in my very objective opinion) iconic fics in the fandom and I loved doing it. Helping plot and brainstorm fics is actually my favourite part of writing and the fact that people are willing to hand their drafts over and trust me with their words means so much to me, whether it’s an epic AU, or someone’s first foray into writing for a new fandom. I still can’t believe that anyone let me beta read a sportsball AU, let alone three of them lol

4. The Soulmates Scene

Need I say more?

5. The baseball day!!

Something about a fandom that, generally speaking does not seem to be interested in baseball, collectively following the World Series and (in my case) learning how to read game stats was just so fun!

Bonus extra: the friends I’ve made along the way 😘💖

Open tag 💖

But also @liminalmemories21 @reasonandfaithinharmony @danieljradcliffe @reyesstrand @lightningboltreader

@guardian-angle22 @goodways @saguaroblossom @she-walked-away @detective-giggles @herefortarlos

@carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses @never-blooms @freneticfloetry @whatsintheboxmh

@heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @firstprince-history-huh @chicgeekgirl89

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: February 14/25

Happy Friday everyone! Check out this week's collection of fics on my radar, and make sure to read the JFC fic for Sunday's meeting! Enjoy!

JOHNLOCK FIC CLUB

If Equal Affection Cannot Be by blueink3 (E, 31,156 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Family, Retirement, Grown Up Rosie, Angst, Reunion, Loneliness, Sussex, Fluff, Sexy Times, Happy Ending) – Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars...

RECENT MFLs

An Authorized Biography by scrub456 (G, 2,644 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP Divergence, Angelo's, Epic Friendship, Humour, BAMF Angelo, BAMF John, Pawn Shop, John's Cane) – An account of what really  happened that night at Angelo's. It's possible maybe the biographers got it wrong. Part 2 of Reader Appreciation Prompt Extravaganza  || Part 7 of Singular

Golden Ticket by DiscordantWords (M, 6,167+ w., 2/? Ch. || WIP || Wonka AU || Crack Treated Seriously, Angst with Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary, Character Death, Candy, Falling in Love) – Years after an odd, gruesome, and highly publicised breakdown ruined his career, a disgraced candymaker has abruptly reopened his factory. His motives are shrouded in mystery, something that only serves to inflame the curious public. To celebrate his triumphant return, he launches a contest: five golden tickets hidden at random in chocolate bars distributed throughout London. The lucky recipients of those tickets are promised an experience they will never forget. And so, on one cold morning in January, five winners gather to claim their prize. John Watson is among them.

The Secret of Agra by Calais_Reno (T, 17,921+ w., 4/19 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, John on a Case, Missing Person, Liminal Spaces, Otherworld, Minor Character Death, Eventual Reunion) – A year after The Reichenbach Fall, John learns that Sherlock isn’t dead, but has now found himself in a spot of trouble. John goes after him. This is a "down the rabbit hole" story, a London Below, a wonderland, an impossible place where missing people find themselves. It's also a love story about our two heroes desperate to find one another, realising things about themselves and each other.

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner (E, 73,699 w., 14 Ch. || ACD Canon || Angst, Romance, Smut, Mystery, First Kiss / Time, Drug Use, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Gay Sex) – Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart.

[somepsychopomp]

Writing list

So this post will definitely be subject to editing in the future, but here we go. This is a (non-chronological) collection of all my writing for Epic, including entire fics, AUs, links, etc.

The Omegaverse AU feat. Omega Ody (plus the Trojan War spin off to this AU)

Literal Monster!Odysseus AU (on Ao3)

Wolf Hybrid Odysseus AU: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 (feat. wolf Penelope), Part 7 (AKA father-pup bonding)

Calypso/Ody mind control AU (on Ao3)

Zeus/Odysseus/Poseidon: A Fair Contest Chapter 1 + sneak peak at chapter 2 + bonus fem!Ody

Poseidon & Telemachus AU (AKA the evil dad AU)

And lastly, my miscellaneous other fic ideas and one-shots:

a glimpse of my Nosferatu Poseidon/Ody AU + part 2 + part 3 + part 4 + part 5 + Hermes

uncle Eury & Polites

Zeus and Poseidon both wanna bone Ody + part 2

NOTE: I love getting asks about my fics! Come talk to me or ask any question you have! ♥️ But PLEASE know I have multiple AUs running concurrently & if you leave me a question with no context clues and I can't figure out what you're referring to, I WILL NOT ANSWER 😭 I'm not trying to be mean but I simply am not a mind reader

[poseidon-you-loser]

Cursed!Odysseus EPIC au part two

(Part one link below if you haven’t read it yet)

Odysseus didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have at some point because the next thing he knew, the sun was shining on his face and the storm was gone.

His head still throbbed however and he let out a groan as he tried to raise his right hand to rub over his eyes. He gave up halfway there when a sharp protest came from his shoulder, and he just sat for a moment as his body throbbed in aching pain. He panted for a moment to catch his breath as his entire right side screamed at him.

“Perimedes is patched up. We think he will recover.” A familiar voice said to his right and he tried not to moan as he turned his aching head in that direction.

How long had he been sitting propped up against the side of the ship?

Squinting at the light, he could make out the tired form of Eurylochus beside him. The tall man had his large sword resting on his knees, and he scrubbed at the red on the blade. The furrow of his brow seemed to indicate distress that a stain had taken to the blade.

“Wha?” Was the closest intelligent response the King of Ithaca could give at the moment.

“Perimedes. He will be fine.” The patient voice repeated, though frustration leaked between the words as the frown on his face deepened.

“Perimedes was injured?” Odysseus slurred out, and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, running into his teeth too often for his comfort.

The steady scrubbing sounds stopped and a world heavy sigh followed.

“Captain? Do you not remember what happened?” Eurylochus sounded hesitant now and almost sad. Odysseus could’ve swore that a heavy silence suddenly fell over the ship, despite the thirty plus men who resided there.

He took a moment to collect himself, and his brain struggled through a heavy fog before it gave him images.

Odysseus jerked forward abruptly, groaning in pain as his eyes roamed the deck and skeleton crew before settling on his own hands.

They were normal.

He gasped in relief, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“I’m cured.” He breathed out in a shaky exhale.

“Captain. You are not cured.” Eurylochus spoke up from beside him, his sword cleaning discarded as he stared at his friend.

Odysseus felt his heart skip for a moment. “What?”

“You are not cured. We have done nothing for the gods to grant us this mercy so soon. You were unconscious, that is all.” Eurylochus seemed so certain of this that a suspicion started to set low in his belly.

“How do you know this, Eurylochus?” He whispered, fear clenching him in a vice.

“Captain, you cannot see it, but your eyes are red. They shine like the monsters we’ve faced.”

Odysseus brought his left hand up to hover over his eyes, feeling self conscious.

Penelope once said her favorite part of him was his eyes. How was he supposed to face her now? Would she recognize them when they were not brown, but red like the blood he’d shed to get back to her?

His hand cracked in front of him, claws breaking free and extending a few inches.

He gasped in shock and pain, dropping his hand and bringing it close to his chest.

No, this wasn’t happening. Was this the deal he struck? Doomed to be a monster to save the lives of himself and his crew?

“Anything else. Please.” His own words echoed in his head and he tried not to think of what Penelope would do when she saw him.

If she saw him again.

He choked on his own cry and the pain reverberated through him and irritated the wounds on his right side. He’d been stabbed and shot by his own crew in the span of one day.

He was so tired of it all.

The claws did not retract.

“You also have a few other problems.” Was the slow but deadpan response and he brought his gaze up to see Eurylochus pointing down to the other side of the deck.

A long object laid there, undisturbed until now as it twitched. It was a good eight feet long and it led right back to where he was sitting. Red, brown, and black scales shinned down the length of it, only broken up with patches of fur of the same colors, until it came to a rather large amount of feathers and fur at the end.

It looked soft.

His brain halted when he realized and remembered. “That’s a tail.”

“Yes, Captain. Your tail.” Eurylochus responded calmly.

Odysseus shifted and that is when the rest of it sunk in. He groaned at the presence of wings being crushed behind him and he leaned forward to take pressure off the feathered and scaled appendages.

They were large as well, fifteen feet at least in length. They were the same red, brown, and black as the tail he’d sported.

The tail twitched and moved closer, dragging upon the deck, until it curled up next to him.

He was too distracted to give it mind.

“How close are we to home, Eurylochus?” Odysseus closed his eyes and gasped out as he tried to shift and move, stiffness and new appendages making the effort seem insurmountable.

“About seven days time, sir,” was the response, though it seemed strangely halted.

Odysseus cracked open his left eye to see his friend sitting stiffly next to him. The end of the tail was on his second’s lap and his hands hovered above it. Something broke in his expression as he stared at the appendage.

“I’m so sorry, Captain.” Eurylochus broke, tears leaking from his eyes. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Which time, Odysseus did not know. With the wind bag or with the cows? It seemed like the crew could’ve done more of listening to him.

But a sobbing friend was still a hard thing to watch.

Odysseus’s heart clenched, and he felt the tail move without his permission to wrap around his friend in comfort.

Eurylochus froze, but ultimately buried his hands and face into the soft feathers, sobs wracking his strong frame.

Odysseus would’ve joined him but he couldn’t find enough moisture to fill his eyes.

He was so tired.

“Captain?” A different voice called out and he looked up to see other parts of the crew gathering on the deck. They stood back from him, fear in their eyes as they saw Eurylochus having a breakdown beside him. “What do we do now?”

Odysseus sighed deeply.

“We go home.”

The crew weakly nodded at that and set back to work.

“Ody?” He heard the broken call from beside him.

Eurylochus had emerged from burying himself in the comfort of his friend’s new appendage. His eyes were bloodshot and he’d never looked so burdened before, not even when they were in the ten years at war or when Polites died.

Odysseus pulled the tail away from him slowly, the sound of it dragging on the deck very loud in the near silence of the exhausted crew.

“I’m so sorry I betrayed your trust. I thought I was doing what was right for the crew. We can never make it at this rate. We will starve before we reach the shores of Ithaca.” Eurylochus looked deep into his eyes as he said this, unflinching at his friend’s new appearance.

“Hunger is so heavy.” The crew echoed his second as they mourned, and Odysseus felt his body could only agree.

He said nothing in response as he attempted to stand, clawed hands grabbing the side of the ship. His wings flared out to right his balance until he was leaning heavily on the railing and staring out at the sea.

His stomach churned, angry at its emptiness as he stared over the side of the ship and into the water.

Though they were spared from the wrath of Poseidon, it did not look like the god was inclined to fed them.

Nothing stirred in the waters. No fish. No food.

His hands clenched on the wooden boards beneath him and wood splintered underneath them as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

The bloodlust always got worse with his thoughts of food. Why did Eurylochus have to bring this up again so soon?

“Penelope. Telemachus.” He whispered to himself as he felt his tail thrash irritatedly on the wooden deck.

The crew gave him a wide berth since his…change, so Odysseus knew Eurylochus was the only one near him.

“Eurylochus.” He turned to face his second once more.

“Captain. Not long before you woke the crew spotted an island in the distance.” The man looked hesitant at the topic change, knowing his words were not going to be received well.

Odysseus froze. “Ithaca is seven days away.” His ears twitched in agitation.

They couldn’t be serious?

“The crew won’t make it that long, sir. They cannot row without food.” He gestured to the weak crew, barely moving the oars in the water.

“Why not? I have, haven’t I? Do we not remember how I came to be this way, Eurylochus?” He snapped, and something else responded likewise in his ribcage. He hunched with a groan, panting as he held his side and felt rolling skin that wanted to burst with scales.

“Captain. I think it would do you well to eat also.” His second pleaded with him.

“It would do me well to see my wife!” He snarled, and something else gave beneath his skin as it warped and changed.

He must’ve black out for a moment because he next heard frantic yells and orders shouted.

“Take us to that island now!” Eurylochus shouted as Odysseus fought back the change, wings curled around him as he hugged his ribcage to stop it from expanding.

“Penelope.” He choked out before a sword hilt came down upon his head.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I think we as a collective fandom should make more angst stuff about epic.

dude canonically traumatized, stuck with a crappy magic donor (epic!gaster)who saw him as nothing more than an asset (called him that to his face mind you), raised his brother by himself after that said magic donor went to get the milk on his way to commit genocide, hasn't gotten a wink of sleep in the last 20 years and is suicidal as a result (along with other reasons) - WHY ISN'T THIS FANDOM DOING ANYTHING ABOUT THAT????

This fandom LIVES off of the misery of residents of the multiverse. The utmv has basically gotten the MLP treatment with the OG material being sunshine and rainbows and every Au out of it having the vibes and story of silent hill and I have no mouth and I must scream.

Like imagine how many peices of art or fanfics that could come out talking about this stuff!!!! AUGH SO MUCH POTENTIAL. Like what if epics friends find out about his past, what if his brother finds out how he's actually feeling. IMAGINE WHAT CROSS AND THE X-TALE GANG WOULD DO AS A RESULT. WHAT THE CHORMATIC CREW WOULD DO!!!!

TOO MUCH POTENITIAL BEING WASTED >:(((((((((((((((((

Probably cause most of the focus in the sans AU part of the fandom is mostly on the bad sanses and making them into either a family or a large poly that’s barely a poly.

So basically, shipping. Many people forget Epic even exists — and replace him as Cross’ best friend even — and mainly focus on using him to say a joke or something. Which isn’t too bad I suppose, I’d imagine it’s rather hard to get Epic to drop that “memey” part of his personality—especially if it’s also a coping mechanism for him—but also imagine what it’d take to push him far enough to drop it or let it slip.

[yellow-computer-mouse]

Introducing ... The Bloodbane System.

Collective Info ꩜ .ᐟ

꩜ Call us Bloodbane or Bloodbane& collectively. Bane as a nickname. We ask that you refrain from calling us our user or IRL name. Our IRL name is the name of our core, and it feels strange to be called by his name.

꩜ We use they/xe/it plural pronouns collectively. Each of us has our pronouns in our tag, and we ask that you respect those individually.

꩜ We are not a human. We are not a being. We are a thing. We are an it. Respect this or die by our blade. (/lh, srs)

꩜ If you believe that any system origin is invalid, do not interact. If you are a radqueer or transID, do not interact. If you are anti-lesboys, do not interact. If you are a pro/com/darkshipper, do not interact. You will be blocked. We will answer questions with the same respect you ask them.

꩜ We are bodily a minor. We don't mind any age interacting, but please follow your own boundaries.

꩜ We are greyromantic, achillean, and asexual. We are dating our wonderful boyfriend @ihateasthma <3

System Info ꩜ .ᐟ

꩜ We are traumagenic, with greyout amnesia that appears to be worsening. We are open about our trauma, but we are not comfortable talking about it unless we trust you. You can ask, but do not expect an answer. We barely know what happened.

꩜ We have NPD, BPD, and HPD, as well as autism, ADHD, ARFID, RSD, and anxiety. If we are replying shortly or leaving things unanswered, we are most likely having some kind of episode. Always interact kindly.

꩜ We are very fictive-heavy, with brainmades never sticking around very long. We are all perfectly fine with all sourcemates and doubles.

꩜ We love talking about ourselves (/npd). Please, ask questions about any of this.

꩜ Frequent fronters are a very private thing for us, for private reasons. You can ask if we're close, but we do not want to divulge who we consider "frequent."

꩜ We have individual trigger tags. If you would like to know them, please send an ask off anon or DM us. Do not share these triggers with others, no matter what. If they want to know, we will tell them ourselves. Triggers are HIGHLY private information, especially for us. If you share our triggers, you will be blocked, and we will likely never speak to you again. Consider this your one and only warning.

꩜ We are headmates. Occasionally, we call ourselves members. You do not call us this. You call us headmates. We are not alters. We are not parts. We are headmates.

Tags ꩜ .ᐟ

꩜ #not skeletons - Not UTMV or Undertale related.

꩜ #not dragons - Not WoF related.

꩜ #not art/#not my art - Self-explanatory.

꩜ #yellow scribbles - Our art.

꩜ #yellow writes - Our writing.

꩜ #yellow academy - UTMV high school AU.

꩜ #yellow polls - Our polls.

꩜ #yellow's stash - Things we want to save.

꩜ #yellow! in the ask box - Our asks.

꩜ #mutuals <3 - Our mutuals.

꩜ #i love isopod <3 - Isopods. We LOVE isopods. Bug hate of any kind will not be tolerated here. We will trigger tag them for you. Our bug blog is @yellow-loves-bugs.

꩜ #thinking with portals - Portal.

꩜ #i love will woob <3 - Will Wood.

꩜ #rip my paradise bro - Rot in Paradise.

꩜ #just gooping around - Slime Rancher.

꩜ #that's the way the cookie crumbles - Cookie Run Kingdom.

꩜ #this is pretty epic - Epic: the Musical.

꩜ #mmm mouthwash 🤤 - Disused Mouthwashing tag. Our Mouthwashing blog is @number1daisukefan.

꩜ #[name] [emoji] // [pro] . [noun] - Headmate tagging system.

Sideblogs ꩜ .ᐟ

꩜ Our system blog is @teeth-and-bones-and-blood.

꩜ Our age regression blog is @little-bloodbane-nettles.

꩜ Our religious blog is @dearolympusabove.

꩜ Our blog for our Epic headmates is @my-name-is-nooobody.

꩜ Our blog for our Mouthwashing headmates (former system blog) is @tulpar-transmissions.

꩜ Our blog for our Cookie Run Kingdom headmates is @put-the-cookies-back.

꩜ Icarus's blog is @come-rest-your-bones-next-to-me.

꩜ Ryan's blog is @iwaitforyou001.

꩜ Apollo's blog is @alwayssummerwhenhesaround.

꩜ Deicide's blog is @de1c1de.

꩜ Sin and Crescent's blog is @bow-to-your-king.

꩜ Dust's blog is @two-coffins-for-sleep.

꩜ Our WoF ask blogs are @ask-hs-jade-winglet, @wof-adoption-au, and @wofsidequesters.

꩜ Our Jimmy roleplay blog is @everyones-favorite-co-pilot.

꩜ Our gimmick blog is @your-fave-hates-billionaires, run by Sin and Crescent.

Please keep in mind that many of these are outdated.

Servers ꩜ .ᐟ

꩜ Bloodbane Thicket, our age regresson server.

꩜ Bloodbane Brackens, our general syscord server.

꩜ The Lotus Eaters, our Epic: the Musical server.

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 4: Flying Solo | Bang Chan

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You Are Here) | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Synopsis: Y/n's epic performance has earned her and the phantoms serious credits! Yet, Flynn is still not convinced...

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader [Occurs somewhat in this chapter] (Minsung as well if you squint)

Genre: Julie and the Phantoms/3RACHA AU, Crack, Angst, Fluffy Moments

Warnings: Arguing, mentions of death

Notice: Hello, my darlings! I want to reaffirm the notice from last chapter: there is slight allusion to Han being gay in this chapter since he represents Alex in the original show. I want to clarify that I do NOT believe Han is gay in real life. This is a work of fiction, and nothing more since I do not know the Stray Kids members personally! As always, I own no rights to 'Julie and the Phantoms' nor its characters. I also want to say I PROMISE the actual Chan x reader is COMING, just not until later chapters unfortunately :') With all of that out of the way, enjoy this chapter, and if you do, I would appreciate if you would like and reblog!!

You scanned the crowd of students, their confused gazes pressing heavily on you, as if their collective curiosity could somehow suffocate the air. Nobody seemed to understand how the boys who had been playing on stage with you moments ago had suddenly vanished. Was it a collective hallucination?

"Were those holograms?" the Dirty Candy member dressed in purple questioned. Your eyes widened at the thought, and a surge of excitement bubbled up within you, so intense that you nearly leapt for joy right then and there.

"Yes!" you immediately responded, "yes, those were holograms! I, uh, plugged a flashdrive into the ceiling projector before I got on stage! I'd explain it but it involves algorithms, science stuff, things I myself don't really get, y'know?"

The crowd of students erupted into a thunderous applause, clearly entertained by your 'concept.' You gave a small nod in their direction, a nervous smile still plastered on your face, though it couldn’t hide the flicker of relief. Meanwhile, the boys who had been performing with you moments ago now stood just offstage, watching with pride as the excitement unfolded.

"That's wild, mates," Chan exasperatedly stated, a tad tired from how hard he had just performed. "They can see us when we play, but not when the music ends."

"We should double check!" Changbin replied, smacking a gentle hand against Chan's chest as he hopped back on stage; subsequently, he began dancing idiotically, moving in weird, stuttery movements. If the student body could have seen him, they would have scrunched their faces in disgust at the unusual behavior. Thankfully, they could not see him, and once Changbin reached this realization, he hopped off of the stage and whispered the obvious fact to Han and Chan.

"I wish I couldn't see you," Han muttered sassily, refusing to make eye contact with the shorter male. Changbin shrugged and made his way to make a one-sided conversation with the purple Dirty Candy member, whom Carrie was currently criticizing for her previous hologram comment.

As the principal dismissed the students back to class, Mrs. Jeon approached you, a grin wide on her face.

"Mrs. Jeon, I am so sorry for not asking for permission," you hurriedly apologized, moving down to sit down in front of her on the stage. "I wanted to prove my place in this school."

"As amazing as that was, y/n," she started, the grin disapaiting slowly, "your spot's already been filled." She motioned to a student who was carrying a cello down the gymnasium bleacher steps; the instrument was nearly twice his size, and it banged with each step down.

"Come on! He can barely lift the thing!" you yelled as your eyebrows furrowed.

"He'll grow into it," Mrs. Jeon waved her hand dismissively. She quickly turned her attention back to you. "I wish I could help, I truly do, but it's not up to me."

"It is up to me," the director added on as she made her way towards you and Mrs. Jeon, her hands clasping together. "Don't get me wrong, I am not in any fashion condoning this little stunt, but I am not going down in history as the director who kicked y/n y/l/n out of her high school music program."

If you were not physically smiling, your eyes sure were.

"Thank you!" you exhuberantly exclaimed.

"But," she contradicted, causing your spirit to dim slightly. "I want a part in your thank you speech at the Grammys." The comment eased your mind, eliciting giggles from both you and Mrs. Jeon.

"Definitely," you reassured as you nodded your head. She reciprocated the head motion as she turned to walk away. Mrs. Jeon looked at you, pride visible in her expression.

"Welcome back, sweetheart."

---

You scowered the hallways in an attempt to find Flynn, who had somehow snuck out of your sights after the performance was over. You found her back in the empty music room, fiddling at the trumpet she had been playing when the both of you had made your way to the gymnasium.

"There you are!" you sighed out of relief once you had found her. "What'd you think?"

"You...did it," she said, surprisingly nonchalant for a girl who had been hyping you up all afternoon. "Good job."

"Are you okay?" you asked out of concern, taking the seat besides her.

"I'm great, what do you mean," she replied sarcastically, never taking her gaze off of the trumpet.

"You don't sound great." You attempted to rest a hand on her back, but she quickly jerked it off of her.

"Just didn't know you had started playing with a hologram band," she told you bluntly, smirking coldly.

"Oh, that!" you nodded, dread suddenly overtaking you once more as you thought of something on the spot to reply with. "It was one song; we aren't a band! I mean, they are a band. A hologram band. For sure holograms!" you put emphasis on the word, hoping she would not be too suspicious at the sudden appearance of the phantoms.

"Noticed that," she sharply commented. "Any reason you've been keeping them a secret?" She finally looked up at you, the look in her eyes dejected, almost depressed even.

"There's a reason!" you instantly responded, your voice wavering out of anxiety; no thoughts came to your mind on how to cover the boys up this time, so you opted for a simple, "But, I can't tell you. They got me back into the music program though!" You waved your hands around flamboyantly, contrasting the stark demeanor on Flynn's face.

"Are you lying to me?" she questioned, her gaze staring intently into yours; your faux excitement quickly faltered as you exhaled deeply.

"Yeah," you admitted. "I am."

"So, when did we start lying to each other?" Flynn kicked her feet at the ground as she questioned you, the sadness on her face now morphing into anger.

"Flynn," you began. You could not think of a proper explanation, still; you knew your best friend would think you were absolutely nuts if you told her the "holograms" were really ghosts. All you could mumble out was an, "I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry?'" she repeated your words, crossing her arms out of rage. "That's all you've got?"

"You wouldn't understand!" you retaliated, raising your voice significantly higher than intended. Flynn nodded her head before standing up.

"I guess we just don't understand each other anymore then," she said solemnly before marching off. You hopped out of your seat, following after her swiftly into the hallways and calling her name repeatedly; however, you could not catch up to her. The students in the hallways kept blocking your way, either scrambling to get to class or congratulating you on your performance.

"It's true! That was absolutely incredible!" a blonde haired boy came up to you, following a comment one of the football players had said about your performance being similar to Coachella. The boy was Felix, also known as the boy you had been crushing on for years; the mere sight of him made your heart race as you beamed.

The happiness did not last for long, however, as Carrie quickly appeared beside him; the two had been going out for months, and her presence demeaned you in more ways than one.

"It was!" she added onto Felix's congratulatory message. "It was immensely better than the time you flaked on your performance and cried!" You quirked an eyebrow towards her as Felix lightly grasped her shoulder.

"Let's get to class, yeah?" he whispered to her as she scoffed.

"Yeah," you agreed, causing both of them to glance at you. "Then maybe you could study up on some manners!" Felix had to stifle a chuckle at your comment; Carrie, on the other hand, looked you up and down judgingly before walking away. As she made her distance, Felix scolded her on her comments, and you overheard a conversation about how you did not deserve your chair back.

You ignored the comments and turned a nearby corner.

"Y/n!" three voices exclaimed loudly, scaring you out of your socks and causing you to jump.

"Stop doing that!" you shouted, attempting to smack Chan's shoulder; of course, your hand passed through his dematerialized figure.

"Nice try," he smirked, a playful wink following his words that sent an unexpected flutter through your chest, leaving your heart racing. It was the same type of race that sent your mind a-haze as you spoke to Felix earlier.

'No way,' you thought. ‘He’s a ghost.’ You quickly pushed the wild thought aside, trying to reason with yourself, but before you could calm the frantic pace of your thoughts, Chan spoke again.

"Anyways," he began. "Are we not going to talk about what just happened?!" His tone was hyper, exhilerated at the performance the four of you had put on.

"Yeah, the whole school could see you," you restated the aforementioned events. "It's lowkey freaking me out."

"Okay!" Han commented in a relieved demeanor. "It's freaking me out too! Like, you could see us and now people can see us whenever we play music, and my clothes are made of air but I am still getting a wedgie!" You scrunched your face at Han's TMI of a rambling.

"The important thing is," Chan deflected from Han's comments, "we killed it in there! They loved you, y/n!"

"They loved us," you corrected, glancing back and forth between the three before settling an adoring look upon Chan. "That was an amazing song, Channie. Thank you." He smiled, his tongue playing in between his teeth, at the nickname.

"And did you guys see the cheerleaders looking at me?" Changbin enlivenly asked. "At least I think they were looking at me." He suddenly grasped Chan's shoulders, turning the older towards him. "Please say they were looking at me." You smiled at Changbin's adorable actions.

"Bin, they totally were," Chan confirmed as he cupped Changbins face, shaking it gently and causing Changbin to explode with thrill. In contrast to Han and Chan's animation, Han still appeared perplexed.

"The afterlife should really come with instructions," he whispered to himself.

"Well, the good thing is that nobody knew you guys were ghosts," you explained to them. "I passed you guys off as holograms. Plus, I got back into the music program." You shoved your hands into your pockets as you said that, your manner becoming saddened.

"That's great!" Changbin cheered. "Why do you look so bummed out?"

"Dude, you're making this face," Chan threw his arms around the two other boys, bringing them closer in as they displayed exaggerated frowns to mimic your own.

"Things just got weird between me and Flynn," you shrugged. "She asked about you guys and obviously I can't tell her that you guys are ghosts."

"Sweet," Changbin replied, surprising you slightly. "Girls are already talking about us." He threw a finger gun at you, winking in a silly manner.

"Stop. I'm serious," you nearly whined out due to dejection. "I can't tell her about you guys so she thinks I'm lying to her."

"You kind of are," Han replied.

"Not the point," you held your hand up dismissively. "If I tell Flynn you guys are ghosts, she'll think I've gone off the deep end." At that time, a janitor rolled a cleaning cart through the hall way, looking at you as if you had gone insane; after all you did look as if you were talking to yourself.

"That guy definitely thinks you've gone off the deep end," Changbin pointed to the janitor as he walked away. You could not help but smile at the circumstance.

"I gotta get to class," you commented, moving past the blockade of boys; Chan moved out of your way, forgetting you could not make contact with him.

"Later, y/n," Changbin waved. "Oh! Can you set me up with one of those cheerleaders?!"

"Make sure to tell them that he's dead!" Han hollered after you, causing you to giggle.

"No, leave that part out!" Changbin opposed, turning around to meet a slammed-shut door.

"And, she's gone."

---

Han was pacing back and forth in the studio, stressed out of his mind as he pondered anxiously.

"I think he's practicing his model strut," Changbin whispered to Chan.

"He's so nervous that it's making me nervous," Chan nodded his head in agreement.

"Okay, you guys know I don't handle change well," Han motioned to them as he stopped racing. "Death? That was a change. Becoming ghosts? Another change. Now, we can be seen whenever we play with y/n. Big freaking change!"

"Yeah, but it was a good change," Chan countered. "With her, we can be on stage again. Be the band we never got the chance to be. Come on, you guys gotta be down for that." He looked to Changbin for approval, and the latter smiled in assertation.

"Duh, who wouldn't be," Han's nervy tone contrasted his assurred statement. "I just wanna know why."

"Forget about the why," Chan commanded. "In fact, I say we invite y/n to join 3RACHA." He suggested as he stood up.

"Absolutely!" Changbin stood up as well, agreeing with the older. "I mean think about it: with a new lead singer, we'd be legendary."

"Hey!" Chan boomed in Changbin's face, causing the younger to jerk his head towards Chan. "I'm our lead singer."

"Dude," Changbin retaliated. "That girl has the voice of an angel. Plus, she can make us visible. Without her, we're just background noise."

"You don't gotta be so mean about it," Chan faux pouted; meanwhile, Han began walking back and forth once again. "And we're back on the runway!" Chan commented as he noticed his friend's dread-filled motions.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Han halted in his steps, looking down at the ground as he sighed. "I gotta get some air." He rushed towards the doors to the studio, attempting to grab the door handle; however, his hand passed straight through, making no contact with the object.

"You know you can just poof out, right?" Changbin questioned.

"Don't tell me how to ghost!" Han nearly yelled at the bassist, causing him to whistle surprisingly; despite his comment, Han did as Changbin had stated and warped out of the studio.

---

Han walked for a long time, seeing all of the people who could not see him. He felt a sense of disappointment as he reminisced on the nearly thirty years he had missed out on. So much had changed, from technology to trends; he felt like an outsiders in multiple aspects.

He kept his gaze focused dejectedly on the ground; as such, he did not notice nor hear the male approaching behind him until they had collided into one another. The unknown clutz had been on a skateboard, riding through the streets of Sunset Boulevard without a care in the world.

The two males coughed and groaned in pain, the unknown one of the two standing up first and inspecting every inch of his board.

"Dude, you dinged my board!" he exclaimed, his gaze full of rage towards Han.

"Dinged your board?" Han asked in disbelief. "You dinged me! You're lucky I don't-" Han paused, realizing the reality of the situation at hand. "You. You dinged me. You could touch me, hit me. Are you a ghost?"

"Yep," the guy replied bluntly. "Ever since I realized the hard way that skating in traffic was bad." He took off his helmet, allowing Han to steal a good look at him. He had short brown hair that was curly in the front; his face was perfectly round, complimented by fair skin and matching chocolate eyes.

'He's ethereal,' Han thought to himself, the look turning into a prolonged gaze.

"Hey, uh," the guy began, snapping Han out of his burning stare. "Sorry I ran into you. I honestly thought you were a lifer and I would just pass right through you."

"A lifer?" Han stammeredly questioned, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yeah," the boy responded. "Just a word for living people. I presume you're new to the whole ghost thing?"

"Am I being too obvious?" Han nervously smiled, scratching the back of his head.

"Just a little," the boy chuckled. "Hey, uh, I'm Minho." He held out a hand for Han to shake, the latter of whom took it gratefully.

"Han." The two boys smiled at each other for a prolonged period of time, both of their cheeks dusted pink as they longingly stared at one another.

The next few minutes consisted of nothing but small talk, including Minho asking Han his business in Hollywood, Han explaining his minor afterlife crisis, and Minho telling Han he could help as long as Han kept up with him on his skateboard. Han chased after the skater boy, giggles escaping him every so often.

He had no idea the impact Minho was about to have on his afterlife.

---

"Changbin, what do you think about this riff?" Chan inquired as he strummed his guitar with precision; the two bandmates had been working on a melody all day, a method they hoped would get you to join 3RACHA.

"Sweet, I'm feelin' it!" Changbin exclaimed. "Then I can come in with a little." Changbin followed his sentence up with an adorning bass riff.

"Then y/n comes in with her killer lyrics!" Chan continued.

"And 3RACHA is reborn!" Changbin finished as the two began playing. At that time, you entered the garage, your calm expression soon morphing into one of disappointment.

"Guys!" you called out to the two, causing them to halt in playing their instruments. "You guys aren't supposed to be playing alone out here."

"But we're not alone," Changbin retaliated playfully as Chan wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "because we always have each other!" You rolled your eyes at his response, a smirk daring to play at your expression.

"We only had our amps on volume one," Chan explained, his Aussie accent thick in respondance.

"But we rocked it on level ten!" Changbin followed up. "Wanna hear it again?" You replied to Changbin's question by unplugging his bass from the nearby amp. Changbin and Chan nodded in understanding, setting their instruments down on their stands.

"We actually have some huge news for you," Chan stated abruptly. "We had a band meeting earlier, and," as Chan pointed to Changbin, the latter began to draft a drumrool by patting on his knees.

"We want you to join 3RACHA!" Chan exclaimed, excitement present in his voice. "Don't worry! This isn't a joke." You widened your eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"Oh," you responded nonchalantly, instantly causing both boys' expressions to diminish.

"'Oh?'" Chan repeated confused. "That's what you say when you get socks for Christmas, not when you're invited to join the most epic band ever!"

"I'm sorry," you deeply exhaled as you genuinely apologized. "I'm honored, truly, but I can't focus on anything besides Flynn right now. She's still mad at me and won't return any of my texts." Changbin rubbed his hands together and Chan put his hands on his hips, both of them doing what they did out of both awkwardness and sympathy.

"Yeah, you're in a tough spot," Chan stated, sort of dismissively. "So you wanna join the band?" You quirked an annoyed eyebrow.

"Read the room, Chan," you told him before attempting to walk out of the studio.

"Oh come on!" Chan called after you. "We need you, and you need us because you need music." His statement made you halt in your tracks as you turned slowly around, your expression hinting him to explain farther.

"Look, Binnie and I found this poem you wrote, and we added this cool beat to it! It sounds awesome!" You glared at the boys now, furrowing your eyebrows as your gaze shifted to the paper.

"Where did you get that?" you interrogated the boys, causing them to look back and forth at each other with guilt present in their faces.

"Uh," Chan stuttered. "Definitely not from your Dream Box!" Chan shoved Changbin in front of him as a defense measure; as a result, Changbin smiled nervously at you as you dashed towards Chan, and he instinctually moved out of the way.

"You went through my stuff?!" you screamed at Chan as he escaped to hide behind the piano.

"Yeah, we can do that now!" Changbin obliviously commented.

"No, you cannot!" you argued. "Boundaries, remember? Give it back!" you attempted to snatch the paper out of Chan's hands; however, he jerked his hand back quickly, hopping on top of the grand piano.

"No!" Chan denied, his tone of voice condescending yet encouraging. "You need to realize the insane amount of talent you have! Listen to this: 'If somebody hurts you, I'm gonna get hurt too. And my life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo.'" Chan harped on the last part of the poem, turning it into lyrics in order to fit the mental melody he and Changbin had created.

"Oh-oh!" speaking of Changbin, he complimented the end of the lyric with his own sonata.

"It’s a killer melody," Chan remarked, his voice soft and breathy, a tone that you found undeniably attractive. Your cheeks flushed faintly, warmth spreading across your face as you tried to ignore the effect his words had on you.

"I wrote that about Flynn when she was helping me through my mom's death," you explained, your expression quickly shifting from Chan's captivity to sorrow as you reminisced on the tough time with your friend. "I need to go," you said as you walked away, opening the studio doors.

"What about the band?" Chan questioned as you stepped outside, his eyes going sad.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" you responded, giving Chan a tad of hope. "Stay out of my room!"

Consider that optimism lost.

---

Chan and Changbin stood at the piano, humming the lyrics to your poem and questioning the part about "deep dish" and whether it referred to pizza or secrets. All of a sudden, Han appeared in between the two boys beaming the day away.

"Hey, man!" Changbin grinned back. "Where ya been?"

"Kind of everywhere, honestly," Han admitted. "I met a new ghost friend, and he answered a lot of my questions."

"Yeah? Like whether or not y/n is gonna join the band?" Chan asked sarcastically.

"Well we didn't really discuss that," Han responded in a perplexed manner, turning his attention immediately back to Changbin. "But, I figured out why we're here! All ghosts have some sort of unfinished business that we need to complete before we can pass over to the afterlife." Han smiled brightly as he explained all of the concepts Minho had told him about.

"Why would we do that?" Chan questioned, shocking his bandmates. "I'm just saying this is like a second chance for us. We just need to get y/n to play with us."

"Yeah, turns out the girl can write just as well as she can sing," Changbin told Han. "Chan and I made a killer melody out of a poem she wrote." As Changbin finished his sentence, Chan handed Han the paper containing your lyrics.

"Ah, without your drummer," Han noted disappointedly.

"Drumming is so 90's, Han," Chan replied.

"Well you know what else is so 90's?" Han retaliated. "Being rude. Get woke, Chan. These are sensitive times." He finished his reprisal by slapping the paper against Chan's chest, his hand coming into contact roughly with Chan.

"I learned that from my ghost friend," Han whispered to Changbin with glee.

"Woke," Changbin repeated while laughing. "Weird word. What's it mean?"

"No clue."

---

It took a long time for the guys to convince you to play the song with them; eventually you came to a compromise: you would play the song if you were able to use it as an apology to Flynn.

It took even more convincing to get her to come over to your place; however, she quickly obliged once you told her the "holograms" she had seen perform were actually ghosts. She was both amused and a bit concerned, intrigued to see just how far the act from your end would go.

After hours of rehearsing, you texted Flynn to come over; she arrived fifteen minutes after the initial text, rapping on the door harshly. You opened the door in excitement, smiling slightly towards your friend.

"Thanks for coming," you told her. "We did our best to perfect the song, which no song is perfect, but I still think you'll enjoy it."

"Oh, no!" Flynn retaliated. "If I'm going to hear a song from your imaginary ghost band, it needs to be perfect. So, get back in there. You too!" She motioned to an empty space of air, pretending she was speaking to an unseen spirit.

"They aren't out here," you replied, chuckling slightly.

"Oh, I know," Flynn smugly replied, stepping forward and softly patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, closing the doors to the studio.

"Alright, guys. Y'all ready?" you inquired the boys, receiving excited nods from all three of them. Flynn stood in the middle of the studio, unknowingly close in proximity to where Changbin was setting up his bass amps.

"Oh, can you sit down here?" you gestured to a nearby chair. "Changbin needs some space to rock out, and he feels weird walking through you." Changbin gave you a thumbs up in response; in contrast, Flynn coldly giggled.

"Boy, when you create a world, you sure do live in it."

"Just sit!" you demanded of your best friend, gripping onto her shouders from behind and nearly shoving her into the chair. "As you can see, there is no technology present that can produce a hologram. Feel free to check it out." Flynn glanced around the ceiling of the garage, snarkily pursing her lips together and crossing her arms.

"The guys took a poem I wrote about you and turned into a song," you began to explain.

"Awe, I wish I didn't have to talk to your dad after this," she tilted her head in half-concernment and half-sarcasm.

"It's called 'Flying Solo,'" you lightly chuckled, dismissing her statement. "I hope you like it." With that, you began to press tempo keys on your keyboard in order to make a beat before you started to press the physical keys, singing your best friend the apology:

"If I leave you on a bad note Leave you on a sad note Guess that means I'm buying lunch that day I know all your secrets You know all my deep-dish Guess that means some things they never, they never Change We both know what I, what I, what I Mean When I look at you it's like I'm looking at me"

Flynn rocked her head to the catchy melody of the song, lost in the world of musicality; so lost in fact, that she almost did not notice when the guys appeared out of thin air. When she did, however, she nearly fell out of her seat. You chuckled at her actions as you and the 3RACHA members sang the chorus.

"My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you Hey, yeah Hey, yeah My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you"

You knelt in front of Flynn, her face a mix of confusion and a subtle hint of fear. You offered her a reassuring smile, the warmth of it meant to ease her uncertainty, before you seamlessly continued into the next verse.

"Yeah, you know who I'm likin' Way before I liked them, duh Cause you liked them first And if somebody hurts you I'm gonna get hurt too That's just how we work, yeah, that's just how we work It will never Change We both know what I, what I, what I Mean When I look at you it's like I'm looking at me"

You repeated the chorus, barely holding back laughter as Flynn’s bewilderment deepened with each passing moment. She stared in utter confusion at each phantom, from Han to Changbin, and finally Chan, completely lost in how they were all standing there in front of her. Between the choruses, you playfully guided her to each member, struggling to contain your amusement. She flinched when Chan suddenly jumped at her, and you could not help but laugh, while you vibed with Han, who was fully immersed in his energetic drumming. When you finally led her to Changbin, she hesitated before waving a hand through him, her eyes widening as her fingers passed right through him, meeting no resistance whatsoever.

"Weird, right?" Changbin asked her, noting the astoundment on her face.

"They're ghosts!" Flynn exclaimed, affirming the point you had tried to get across to her all day.

"Uh, we prefer musical spirits," Han corrected, earning an assured point and nod from Changbin.

"So does this mean you're joining our band, y/n?" Chan caught your attention, amping up his guitar riff as he asked.

"Um, I think you are joining her band," Flynn retaliated, her demeanor laced with joking sass.

"I'm gonna go with what she said." You wrapped an arm around Flynn’s shoulders, feeling the warmth of her presence beside you. As you did, you caught a sneaky smile from Chan, one that made your heart skip a beat and a flush spread across your cheeks.

Flynn looked at you two, knowingly with a smirk. You had yet to accept your feelings for Chan as of yet, but that was not the focus of today. Today was about your best friend and exemplifying your love for her.

You led her back to the studio floor as you finished out the last chorus, dancing and goofing around with Flynn as you ended out on a high-note. Your forehead was pressed against Flynn's, grins plastered on five faces in the room. You broke away from the contact, care present in your expression.

"Believe me now?"