#ellie's self ship night!

[sadiestarrs]

Pray For A Sign

Warnings: slight internal homophobia mentions, idk that’s it ig

A/N: this was released early bcs i love you guys 🤍🤍 this is proofread and also inspired by this fic!!! thank you so so much for liking cherry red, my other fic! idk when pt2 will be released tho😔

Plot: after being dared by ellie to deface school property, the two of you end up in detention together

Word count: less than 2k (i think)

You had never imagined yourself in detention, let alone for four hours.

It was unfortunate how you were the only one caught on that night, spray painting a rather foul image on the school banner. None of it was your fault though. You couldn’t back out. Especially because Ellie had dared you.

Everyone snuck out after curfew, meeting at the back of the canteen and hanging out. You had never participated in this congregation: there was too much homework and studying to be done. But you were dragged out by some new friends, whilst half-asleep, encouraging you to try something new.

At first, you sat there like a stiff wall, not really joining in until someone called out to play truth or dare. As soon as the circle is formed, you “accidentally” lay your eyes on the gorgeously toned person sitting directly in front of you, who also happened to be staring.

There’s too much happening to notice the two of you eye fucking each other, but the growing heat inside your chest and on your cheeks was very noticeable.

The bottle spun countless times before it landed on you. And when it does, she’s the first to give you a command. Spray-paint a dick on the school banner outside.

You didn’t want to do it, not at all, but she was staring at you—they all were. An intrigued, mischievous stare straight into your soul. Before long, a brand new can of neon green paint is placed into your hands, paired with meticulous sneaking through the quiet halls.

She sticks near you the entire time, not close enough to worry, but enough to make your breath quicken. Just do it and run away. It’s just a dare. No big deal. You try everything under the sun to keep yourself from freaking out but nothing works. Your parents raised you to be a rule-following, obedient person, if they saw you defacing school property, they’d ship you to the middle of the ocean.

“You don’t have to look so nervous, you know.”

It takes a while to register that she was talking to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the ladder steady, just make sure to hold your dress down.”

You look down and realise that you were still wearing a nightgown, cut short by your mid-thighs with little frills and lace edges. Could this be more embarrassing? Ellie smirks before walking ahead, leaving you in heated self-consciousness.

All you wanted was to be back in your dorm. Would they notice if you left? Yes. Yes, they would. And you would never hear the end of it. If you were dared, you had to follow through or be left with social isolation.

A strong breeze hits your bare skin, making you hold your arms close and minimise movement. As you do this, you see her staring, standing in front of everyone and waiting for the coast to be clear.

She lets everyone go past and sticks behind, leaving just the two of you. “You cold?” Pulling off her light grey, Ellie hands it over, insisting that you take it. “No, it’s fine, keep it.”

Instead of accepting, she pushes the hoodie into your hands, walking away before you can say anything. It’s all too much. You had never even had a conversation with her before and now she’s giving you things? You didn't even want to put it on, but feel another gust of wind and quickly change your mind. It smells exactly how you imagined. Just like Ellie would.

She had a reputation for being “bad” and unreliable. You had never personally seen that side of her but you had heard about it many times. So seeing her now act friendly and even caring was more than strange. It was suspicious.

“Go on, Newbie.”

The group waits for you to ascend the ladder, menacingly laying their eyes on you. Just like she said, Ellie stands nearby, holding the rickety object in place.

Please God, if you’re going to answer my prayers, please answer this one. You receive no response. Instead, you have to make your way up, stopping every two rails to take a deep breath. Heights were never your strong point.

“Come on! We don’t have all day.”

Were they getting off seeing you suffer? This was all new. You never hung out or joined in on their group antics. This was a mistake. All of it was. You shouldn't have given into peer pressure. That's all they taught at your school, for God's sake.

When you reach the top, after a painfully long extent, you open the can and begin spraying, receiving splatters of the neon chemicals on your face.

Quiet cheers could be heard from below, and if you weren’t busy simultaneously trying not to fall and keep your dress down, you would have enjoyed it.

When you're done, a breath you didn’t know you were holding is released from deep in your chest. Now you might finally get their approval.

“Shit.”

They scramble from below, everyone separating and running in different directions. No one bothered to help you down or even warn you that a Sister was coming.

“Hurry up!”

The only person left. You didn’t realise she stayed. Ellie.

Briskly helping you get down, and holding your hand for milliseconds, the two of you try to escape before being stopped by another Sister.

That was how you ended up in detention.

✦

“Graffiti. Damaging public property. Public indecency. The odds are stacked against you two.”

You sit in a century-old wooden chair, dust-coated on every surface whilst listening to the Sister reprimand you. And Ellie.

Luckily, she was the only person left when everyone had run. You couldn’t tell the Sister that you were dared, anyway. If anyone found out that you snitched, then you really would have to leave the country. It was funny how she considered your night dress as indecency, though. You barely manage to stifle your laugh.

“It wasn’t her, I promise. I’m responsible because I told her to do it.” Despite her efforts, the Sister doesn’t listen to Ellie, raising her eyebrows and sitting at her desk, leaning back before falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Ellie gets up, making you look at her from across the room. “Are you mad at me?”

It’s a dumb question. So dumb that you don’t bother responding.

“Hey, you can’t say that I didn’t try. It’s not my fault that I’m a great darer.”

“That’s not a thing,” you bitterly respond, turning away and stewing in your own little rage. Four hours. Four hours that could have been dedicated to studying or sleeping. Wasted by sitting in an old room with someone who you couldn’t stand looking at for longer than three seconds.

Ellie wanders around the class for a bit, lifting books and analysing small things. She even stands next to the Sister, messing around with her pens but receives no laugh from you. Before long, she makes her way to a window, cracking it open and stepping out before coming back in.

“You coming with?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

Not only was she breaking the rule about not leaving your seat in detention, she was leaving the room.

“No, Ellie, of course I’m not coming with you. I’ve already gotten in enough trouble and my parents are probably gonna pull me out of here by the end of the week.”

“Well let’s spend your last few days having fun. Please?”

She was convincing but you had to remind yourself that she was the one who put you here in the first place. You shake your head no and continue staring forward, not being tempted by her longing gaze.

You hear a sigh before the window opens and twigs snap underneath her feet.

✦

“I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson now, child.”

You shake your head eagerly hoping that it will make her stop talking. “Don’t forget that the eyes of God are always watching.” Mhm. “Keep out of trouble or you’ll be sitting here once again.” Mhm.

Finally, you’re able to go back to your dorm after a back-breaking four hours in that cold, clogged classroom. You hope for the walk to be quiet and pleasant but are proved wrong after seeing the same auburnette sitting outside. Waiting for you.

You can’t come up with a reason why she would wait. Ellie had gotten away with sneaking out and still managed to be there for you.

“Can I walk you to your dorm?”

The answer that leaves your mouth is no when your heart truly wants to say yes. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that to yourself. No. Ellie was bad news. A name you hear and shudder after. Not someone that the likes of you should be walking with.

But still, you let her, awkwardly avoiding any and every type of contact, audial and physical. She still tries, though, making small talk and little guesses about your personality.

“Let me guess, your parents sent you here so that you could become a better person? Yeah, that’s most of the stories around here.”

She continues this one-sided conversation, yapping to herself in an honestly cute and almost funny way.

“Why don’t you hang out with anyone? I’ve never really seen you around, and I know most people here.”

The real answer was not due to shyness or lack of confidence. It was because of something deeper inside you. Something that you couldn’t explain. Something that only came out when you were around Ellie. You had always known what it was but never tried to face it. It was pushed to the back of your mind, left to be forgotten about. The way it should be.

When the two of you finally make it to your dorm, Ellie pushes her way through despite not being invited in.

“Damn, you keep your room really clean. You should see mine, it’s a mess.” The mere thought of being in Ellie’s room makes your heart skip a beat.

She fiddles with a few things around, smelling each perfume and examining the few stuffed animals on your twin bed. “This is by far the nicest dorm in the school. I should visit more often.” A small wink is passed your way.

You don’t object to her snooping. In fact, you begin to welcome it, now answering her questions and entertaining the conversation.

“What happened to that hoodie I gave you?”

The hoodie. Was it shameful that you held it in bed with you every night since that day? Yes, definitely yes. But it smelled like her. And it was probably the closest you’ll ever get to her.

“Do you want it back?” You begin to look under your covers for it before grabbing it from underneath a bunched-up blanket.

“No, no it’s fine, keep it. I like how you have it in your bed.”

God, this was mortifying. You don’t respond, quickly chucking it back onto the bed. “I have plenty more hoodies if you want any.” She offers you a list of her belongings just about stopping at underwear.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and instead look at the clock. 8 PM. You had missed so much studying time because of detention and needed to catch up on thousands of subjects.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, but I have homework and studying and-”

“You want me to leave, don’t worry, I got it. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Instead of moving towards the door, she takes a step closer, closing the already small space between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat. What was she doing? She examined you like she did in detention. Only now in your room.

“Nice work on the banner.”

With that, she gives a small smile, one with something hidden behind it. Something that only your heart could see. The thing you had buried inside yourself.

“Bye, Newbie.”

[thelamentknight]

Ellis Vinter

18/Male

Norwegian 

Gay

Aquarius 

Hometown is Snowmist Mountains

Twisted from Elsa

Ignihyde

3rd Year

Best Subject is Conjuration

He’s in the Horse Riding Club

His Favorite Food is Hot Chocolate Tart

His Least Favorite Food is Reaper Pepper

Dislikes Spring

Hobbies include Reading, Stationary, Studying, Journaling, Puzzles, Calligraphy, and Ice Skating

Talents: Memorization

UM “Beware the Frozen Heart“:

When Ellis points at someone and says his UM, an ice shard shoots out of the finger and into the victim. In a short span of time, the victim’s hair turns white, their cheeks lose color, their body becomes cold and frosty, and the victim d!es as their heart turns to literal ice. Ellis despises his UM, and has only used it as a last resort for self defense.

Like many Ignihyde students, Ellis is a cautious lone wolf who doesn’t socialize much. He is elegant and graceful, which is to be expected of a prince like him. Due to his quiet, lonely, and somewhat reclusive nature, along with his wealthy background, many students interpret his shyness as arrogance and haughtiness. So Ellis isn’t very popular among the students. While he tends to hide it, Ellis is quite anxious and nervous 70% of the time, and is actually quite touch starved.

Backstory (Accidental m*rder and Ab*se warning):

Ellis is the heir Prince of Snowmist Mountains. He had a younger brother and was very close with him. But one day, when the two were kids, assassins came during the night. The assassins managed to grab Ellis’ younger brother, so Ellis used his UM on the thief holding his brother. However, the thief used his brother as a shield, so the UM ended up hitting Ellis’ brother and not the thief. Soon after his brother was hit by the UM, he was d*ad. In fear of what they saw, the assassins scrammed. 

The King, Queen, guards, and other royal staff arrived to where the heard the ruckus, and were horrified by the sight of the younger prince’s lifeless c*rpse, and the older prince sobbing on the floor. Everyone blamed Ellis for the d*ath of the younger prince. His parents locked Ellis in his room, where they beat and screamed at him, calling him a monster. 

Ellis was forbidden from leaving his room, and if he did, his parents would beat and scream at him again. The maids had to bring him food, but they would leave it in front of the door, knock, and run before Ellis opened it. His Tutor needed guards in the room before being okay tutoring Ellis. Everyone at the castle despised the older Prince.

A few years later, the King and Queen d!ed when the ship they were on sunk, leaving Ellis with the throne. However, many were against Ellis being the Ruler, due to how young he was…and also because they despised him, so Snowmist Mountain is now currently ruled by the Grand Duke, and he rules the kingdom well.

He ordered Ellis to be released from his room prison, and he let the Prince know that he can leave the room whenever he pleased. Ellis was gobsmacked by this, and was even more gobsmacked that the Duke wasn’t expecting something out of him. The Grand Duke treats Ellis as if he were his son, something Ellis hadn’t experienced in many years.

Fun Facts:

+ Dislikes Spring due to pollen allergies (it only gives him sniffles, but it’s still annoying)

+ It’s noted how Ellis got his UM at a much younger age compared to most people (who tend to get them at 16)

+ Once a day, the Grand Duke messages/calls Ellis to see how he’s doing

+ He has a cold body (if you touch him, you can feel that he’s cold)

+ His nightmares consist of the ab*se he went through and about his brother getting k!lled

+ Loves a good cup of Hot Chocolate with marshmallows 

+ Ellis’ favorite thing in the morning is to hear the icemen passing by and singing. At NRC, he has a music box that plays the songs the icemen would sing

+ Seems to always wear gloves

+ His spice tolerance is non existent

+ Keeps his things tidy, clean, and organized

+ He’ll take his horse, Olaf, for an evening walk every day

+ Ellis has very high As, and is actually good at math. He would be very willing to tutor other students despite his shyness…but most other students would rather fail than be around him (this bites them in the butt during Chapter 3)

+ Winter is his favorite holiday. Loves building snowman and ice skating

+ Has a sweet tooth

+ Is VERY skilled in ice magic

+ Dating Ángel Iglesias

+ The only one that knows that Ángel has a fear of bells

Voice Claim

Back of head design

[ellstersmash]

Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

The only thing I've written (well, and posted) since I last did this in July is the worm fic, which is really just dialogue and while it does make my heart happy, I don't think I love it more than any of these! so yeah, gotta agree w/ past ellie:

nothing on my tongue - my magnum opus. solavellan, sad ending, not a songfic despite the suspicious signs. contains basically all of my most popular fic posts on tumblr. most infuriating and also most satisfying to write.

Not to Keep - shenko fake dating one-shot that makes me fall back in love with them every time i reread it.

days in, nights out - OC x OC which means it will never get eyes on it but I am literally never not thinking about Makon and Athi. Hands down my healthiest ship, and I have probably given them some of my favorite writing.

anybody's hands - wayhaven pre-relationship mason/theo that i was really really nervous to post bc there's sex but not with each other, but in hindsight, i don't know why. that's kind of par for the agent-m-course. anyway! the writing holds up and i learned a lot about their dynamic working on this.

be gentle with me - another mayo one shot, but deep relationship. i love rereading this one. no notes, wouldn't change a thing.

[nosenipped]

respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better.

roleplayer name: lucien!

pronouns: deez / nuts. ( he / they. )

muse name(s): jackson overland frost. :3 his name is so fucking english i literally can't type this without giggling. he's got a korean name too, but im not revealing it because of plot.

preferred communication: discord or DMs. i'm still getting used to the mechanics on tumblr rn so. 😭😭 but there r some features in tumblr's DMs that kinda tick me off, so discord's the home place for communications for me. i run a shit ton of accounts on different platforms too, so if i don't reply it's bc im out of energy or im busy with work. 💔

experience: started in pokémon. got traumatized. went to animerp. also got traumatized. the cycle repeats for about 6 years.

preferred roleplay type: dependent on the day! i've always preferred writing something fluffy as opposed to angsty, ( but the lines are very thin for this muse ) only because jack's already a VERY angsty character and as a whole and i feel if i kept writing angst i'd run out of material quickly.

pet peeves / dealbreakers: forced shipping &&. self—inserts that seem too inserted, eg. forcing themselves onto my muses. ( i realize it's essentially the same thing but trust there's a difference. ) i've only ever shipped muses after messages of development and if i see potential. it's also a matter of personal comfort.

i've had past experiences where people took it too far with their muses and got personally affected by their relationship which is INSANELY unhealthy.

another one is just ship jealousy? i've personally NEVER experienced it as the receiver before, i hope i never do anyway, but we're all friends and grown—ups here im sure we could just write without any hidden agendas. i've had people close to me suffer from this before and it's incredibly sad &&. pathetic, y'all don't do that pls.

best time to write: evening or like. really early in the morning LMAOOO. i'm a night owl most of the times so if im not getting to anything in the morning or afternoon, it's mostly all churned out at night. ( but ofc that doesn't mean i'm not active during the morning or afternoon. )

are you like your muse?: to a large extent, definitely. i wouldn't go as far as to call us twins tho? even if some people do, there's just some things that we see differently.

for starters, unlike this loser, i can swim. /silly i got medals to back my claim.

i'm definitely not as dense to love as this dude is, and i'm able to differentiate platonic and romantic ties. this SUCKS so bad knowing he's also a womanizer in the last books .. i need his ass GONE.

in terms of similarities, i truly see him as something of a vessel to articulate my grief and anger as well as nostalgia through my boyo. :3 and since i've practically rewritten his ass to incorporate book and movie and mythology lore ( it gave me a MIGRAINE during my work i swear ;; the amt of effort i place into him needs to go widespread to my course. ) parts of me are also within to fill the plot holes. <3

i offer my jack frost to write with you all with my heart and soul on the line, so it really means a whole lot to me whenever people love him.

i got tagged by @lcafman ! WAAAHHH ELLIE ILYSM /p ONE OF MY POOKIES AND A GENUINELY GREAT PERSON TO GET TO KNOW. <33

＊ tagging ... @nerdynanny ， @toothcollct ， @saheira ， @seachant ， @fatedarrows ， @chieftain-of-berk ， @pcterpan ， @wishfulmuses ♡ feel free to participate if you'd like!! ( ^ω^ )

[illumiera]

9 and 23 for miss ellie for the ‘firsts’ tag game :33

thank you for the asks, Jules!! 💖

✨ ask game! ✨

9. first time living away from home

Elentari has a "technically..." and "true" answer, I feel! so, technically, her first time living away from home came at the age of eighteen after her murder by the Dark Brotherhood and resurrection by Mara, when she fled her family home in Daggerfall and boarded the first ship she came across. it took her to Anvil in Cyrodiil, where she spent several months (her nineteenth birthday included) holed up in an inn, deep in a state of grief and shock. at that point, she only really left her room to pray for her family's souls at the Chapel of Dibella. however! after this overwhelming despair lifted (she specifically remembers feeling the urge to stand and open the window, then being swept by the warmest, kindest breeze she'd ever felt), she packed her bags and headed to the Arcane University in the Imperial City, where she stayed for about two years. she'd count this as her first proper living away from home experience, I'd think, late nights studying and falling asleep on textbooks and drinking ill-advised stamina potions in lieu of a good rest included.

23. first display of their powers or abilities

call it a leftover gift from Akatosh, but once she begins to study and become even marginally stronger than the novice mage she was back in Daggerfall, Elentari finds Destruction magic very, very easy—just like how Mara's touch blessed her abilities with Restoration. of course, having gotten through Helgen without raising a spell or weapon thanks to Ralof defending the scared, skinny little noblewoman at his side, she doesn't actually realise this until she's tasked with going to Bleak Falls Barrow, runs into some bandits, and intends to strike out with a fire spell to warn them off, being totally out of her depth as she is. what actually happens is that Akatosh's little gift and innate dragon soul self-preservation kicks in, and that's the first time she ever takes someone's life. it's clear there's no saving these bandits from their injuries, but she tries and fails anyway. as for the true extent of her prowess with Restoration, coupled with that dragon soul... we see that a few years after the bandit incident in i fear no fate, when she outright refuses to accept Miraak's death, reverses time itself to bring his soul back, and heals his body almost completely!

[skoulsons]

I’m The Reason You Won’t Come Home

• gif by @maryjanewatscns

• title from Ethel Cain’s song “A House in Nebraska.” aka Joel and Ellie’s song.

Relationships: Joel & Ellie, Joel & Tommy, Tommy & Ellie

Word count: ~8.7k (I did not want it to go on this long)

Warnings: Minor depictions of torture and violence, some blood, death.

Authors note: This is straight sadness. Ever since I discovered tlou2 and his death, this has always been a thought. It’s nearly a year and a half ongoing, so I just sort of spit a year and a half’s worth of thoughts into…whatever the heck this is. I cried a lot writing this, but I’m also a sensitive wimp, so that could be why.

Summary:

The second he’s gone, she starts to break. She just told Joel last night about wanting to try and forgive him. To try and get back on good terms. To try for what they want to be; what they deserve to be. And she almost just lost him. But now, she has the chance to get them back home and to start that journey of reconciliation.

Some extra notes:

If you ship them I might just fill your house with mosquitos on a hot summer day and lock you inside

I wrote this in a combination of game and show canon, so there are moments, callbacks, and descriptions from both

I don’t think there’s anything that classifies as a tlou2 spoiler, but if there is it’s pretty minor

This is more self-indulgent than anything else. If something seems out of character, I apologize. Like I said, incredibly self-indulgent

I love physical touch and that is…very evident in this

Canon divergence from tlou2 in a few ways, obviously. One of them is there being no door at the bottom of the stairs as I genuinely forgot about it and I am….7.9k words in as I write this. so.

(A very big thank you to my beautiful friend @ellie-licious for beta reading and helping me figure out a specific part of this fic <3 and in general for being a great friend to me for many reasons. I love and cherish you very much brother and this is for you)

~~~~

Ellie wakes up on the floor, cheek pressed to the cold basement tile. She can see two blurry figures a few feet from her. One is limp, almost like a rag doll. The other is moving, struggling with the limp one. Sitting it up? She can’t tell. Ellie’s ears are ringing and her vision is blurry; her nose and eyes throbbing as her throat feels like sandpaper.

Tommy is the struggling figure across the room, attempting to wake up an unconscious Joel. Tommy’s working on sitting him up against the glass. Joel has a heartbeat, he’s breathing. He’s alive. But he’s hurt, bad. Tommy’s hands find Joel’s neck and then the sides of his face, tapping him and shouting to try and wake the older. Joel’s face is bloody. He has a slice over his left cheekbone, a gash across his jugular, a chip out of his ear, a broken nose, a cut on his right temple that stretches down to his jawline, fresh blood still coming from them. His hair had an even coating of blood through the strands.

“Dammit, Joel, come on! I need you awake. Come the fuck on, Joel!” Tommy yelled, patting at his brother’s neck for something. A cough, a groan, a twitch of his fingers or a pull at the corner of his mouth. But Joel gave nothing.

Ellie stirs slightly, groaning into the floor as her vision focuses more and her ears ring into her skull. She coughs some blood up, catching Tommy’s attention. He takes his hands back from Joel’s neck, placing steady hands to his shoulders to keep him in place against the glass before crossing the room to Ellie’s side. Tommy kneels on the ground beside her, placing a hand on the back of her shoulder as she comes to.

“Hey…” He says, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Tommy?” She asks, voice slurring as she speaks, eyes still trying to adjust to the man kneeling above her and figure across the room. Joel.

“Yeah, s’me. You okay?”

Reality rushes back to her. You’re gonna fucking die! Let him go. We didn’t think anyone was gonna show up! The hell did you expect? You want what I want, right? His face. The people. Didn’t she cut a guy? Wasn’t Tommy unconscious? She was kicked in the ribs. There’s blood on the glass. His blood. He was groaning. He was-

Ellie started to roll on her side, her vision rolling with her. “Joel….he was-“

Tommy cuts her off. “He’s okay for now. Can't get him to wake up though-“

“Where-“ is he. She places her palm to the tile, trying to push herself up off the floor, her ribs aching at the movement.

“No, Ellie. You need to relax-“

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy. I need to see him,” she bites, and Tommy knows arguing with her will go nowhere. She’s stubborn, just like her father.

She stands up, pushing past Tommy’s instruction for her to stay down. She holds onto his arms as she stands, steadying herself before walking alongside him. Tommy helps her take baby steps across the room, walking through pools of dried blood. His dried blood.

Joel’s back is straight against the wall, head hung slightly to the right. His legs are extended in front of him, both of his hands in his lap. Tommy lowers Ellie on Joel’s left side, Ellie kneeling down beside him, taking his left hand in hers. She interlocks her fingers with his, something that’s felt so lost between them the past four years.

She held his hand a number of times during that Winter. After she went back to him in that basement and they held onto each other, it was easier. And after David, it was almost frequent. When they’d be walking and a twig snapped, she reached for him. When they spotted a rabbit or a deer, she reached for him. Nights around the fire when the images and the words and the actions played on repeat, she sought out his hand. She’d scooch across the snowy ground to his side, sliding her hand in his without a second thought. He’d give her a tight squeeze immediately before letting his hand relax in her grip. She fell asleep like that one night, waking up to her hand still in his while his rifle rested across his lap.

But his rifle was resting against his pack before she fell asleep, at least six feet from where they sat. He had gotten up that night, releasing her hand to get his rifle to keep watch. But instead of staying up and watching over her, he settled back beside her, taking her hand in his again. She didn’t mention it that morning, and neither did he.

“Can-can you find a rag or something for me. And some water, too. He should have some in his pack.” Her hands moved to his jaw, turning his head side-to-side to check his cuts.

Any emotion in her voice is held off completely with Tommy in the room. He can’t see her like how she wants to be right now. She was almost killed. He was almost killed. And there’s a lump in her throat right now that she can’t have Tommy know about. She doesn’t want him to see her like that. She can’t break in front of him, not right now.

Tommy finds an old T-shirt and Joel’s water canteen in his pack and hands them to Ellie, her lightly soaking the shirt with some water as she starts cleaning the cut on his neck.

She pauses for a second, turning her head to the side, still avoiding Tommy’s gaze. “Dina and Jesse are on their way. Can you go watch out for them, please?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Tommy…” she called, turning fully to see him. Her eyes were red already. “Be careful.”

He offered her a gentle smile before heading up the stairs, pulling the door closed behind him. He stops before it reaches the doorframe. “Ellie? Let me know when he wakes, okay?”

“Yup,” is all she manages as he leaves the door ajar behind him.

The second he’s gone, she starts to break. She just told Joel last night about wanting to try and forgive him. To try and get back on good terms. To try for what they want to be; what they deserve to be. And she almost just lost him. But now, she has the chance to get them back home and to start that journey of reconciliation.

But he needs her right now, her thoughts don’t. She puts the rag down and grabs his left hand to hold it in hers, crying as she tries to wrap his one hand in both of hers, as tiny as they are.

“Joel?” she asks, her voice cracking as tears well in her eyes.

She hasn’t felt this small in years; especially not since their estrangement. Her voice feels like it jumps an octave asking for him now. She feels small, vulnerable, open. They haven’t been open since the night after they were home from her birthday trip. They watched Jurassic Park, but it wasn’t the same after that. Now, it feels like she’s reverted back to their old ways. Five years ago when they were on the road together, Ellie calling out for him so he could tell her what to do. The name she’d yell when she was scared and needed him to guide her. How she shouted for him against the raging current when they jumped off that bridge and he held her against him, shielding her from the rock face. How she screamed for him to help her when Sam had turned and was clawing at her on that motel floor. His name that seemed to offer so much comfort, protection, and security back then now holds years of heartbreak, fear, guilt, and shame.

“It’s me,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face as she brings the conglomeration of their hands up to her face, resting her lips against the back of his left hand. His hands are cold against her lips as her tears fall, soaking his wrist in salty streams. “Joel…” she pauses. What the fuck do I say? What does he deserve to hear? Will I even mean what I say? “You have to get up. You need to get up, Joel. Please,” she sobs, rubbing her thumbs back and forth over his hand as she struggles to catch her breath.

A few minutes of her crying passes before she clears her throat. She gives his hand a few reassuring squeezes. “I’m gonna clean your face a bit, okay? You’re still bleeding a lot and some of these cuts are bad.”

She squeezes his hand again before reaching for the rag again and dabbing more water on it. She gently uses her left hand to tilt his head up to work on the cut on his neck.

The water was ice cold and he unconsciously flinched when Ellie dabbed the t-shirt to his neck. She apologized every time, hoping he could hear her. She meant it. Even after the last two years of almost delighting in pushing him away and knowing he was hurt by how she was treating him, she regretted that now. She hated it now. Even if this was physical pain, her stomach still churned at the thought of knowing thoughts he’s probably had the past two years and how she hurt him mentally. She’s sincere over her apologies. She doesn’t like seeing him hurt; and now, she hates to be the one causing him more pain and discomfort.

She finishes cleaning the blood off his face, even cleaning some that got on his teeth. She ran the rag through his hair, soaking sections of it and wringing the blood out. He looked…better, but nowhere near good. None of the cuts should need stitches, she thinks, so that’s good. She places the rag and water beside her again, double checking his face over for any spots she may have missed. She grabbed hold of his hand again, carefully running her fingers across the calluses that litter his knuckles.

Tommy appeared at the top of the stairs, voice laced with concern. She would tell him if something happened. “Ellie? Anything?”

Ellie sighed, heavy and deep. Why isn’t he waking up? She cleared her throat, attempting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “No…nothing yet. Sorry,”

“S’not your fault, sweetheart. Just let me know when he wakes,” and Tommy was off to continue his watch for the other teenagers.

When. More like if, at this point.

And that’s exactly when he did. A heavy grown from the older man as Ellie eyes immediately locked on to him again, scanning his face. His hand moved in hers as his eyes fluttered slightly. His thumb rubbed over her fingers as she smiled, holding her tears in case this wasn’t quite it.

But his eyes opened and were trained on her immediately. She squeezed his hand tight again, offering him a small smile as tears dropped from her chin and fell to their hands. “Hey…” she whispered, keeping her voice quiet for him.

“El…” he tried, voice croaking at the attempt. She smiled at him. He’s here. He’s alive.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she confirmed, squeezing his hand again.

Joel immediately started moving and adjusting his position on the floor, but Ellie was quick to lay a hand on his chest, tears still on her face. “No, you’re staying here. You’re…in bad shape, Joel,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled, grabbing at his hand again. “You have to stay here til we can get you safely home.”

Joel’s left hand lifts from her grasp as he brings it up closer to her face, his eyebrows furrowing; uncertain that she’s actually here. She finds it again with her right and holds tight to it, pressing it against her cheek and smiling. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re not hallucinating, I promise. We’re not dead or in some afterlife.”

She was there, too. She was on that basement tile, face forcefully pressed into the ground. Forced to watch. Laid out right in front of him, every fear Joel ever dreaded resurfacing right then; mere feet from him. The fear of her dying again. He wasn’t concerned over himself, it was all over her and what they were doing. They tackled her to the ground, kicked her in the ribs and kicked her head later, giving her a bloody, and possibly broken, nose.

He had every right to think she wasn’t real. Everything told him they died. He had every right to believe he did die and, somehow, the darkness that he thought came after death was just a place that filled in the horrifying gaps. Those gaps being filled by Ellie being beaten and killed, all while he was unable to save her.

But now, hearing her voice and the reassurance in we’re not dead wasn’t enough. He had to hold her. He had to feel her so he could know. His hand to her cheek, fingers through her hair, her tucked away against his chest, or her curled up against his side while his arm drapes across her. That was all for them and he needed it all now to know. To know that she was alive. That they were alive.

Joel frees a finger from her grasp and runs it back and forth over her cheek. Man did she miss contact. This used to be second- no, first nature for them, but it’s been so lost, even before their estrangement. But right now, it feels like it was never lost. “It’s me,” is all she can get out. A phrase from him that always brought her out of dissociation. Two words that grounded her; comforted her throughout Winter and settling into Jackson. Any uncertainty was always met with those two words. It became their thing.

She rests their hands back into his lap before reluctantly letting go. “I’ll be right back,” she whispers, quickly shooting up and running to the top of the stairs, checking behind her every step, the fear that Joel would disappear if she let her eyes off him.

She cracked the basement door open and peaked her head through. “Tommy?! He’s awake,” she called, and Tommy rounded the corner from the front door. Ellie offered him a grateful smile as he struggled to catch his breath, both from running and the realization that Joel was alive.

Tommy rushed downstairs with her, meeting Joel at his side. Ellie stayed a few feet back, letting the brothers have a few minutes. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to conceal his emotion. “Hey, big brother. She cleaned you up real good. How you feelin’?”

“Pain,” is all Joel could manage, though it came out clearer than either of them were expecting. “Fucking sore. Beaten…I was…,” Joel tried, his throat aching with every word.

“I know, brother. I know. But you’re alright now. Jesse and Dina are comin’ and then we’ll have enough people to get you safely home, alright? You’re gonna be just fine, Joel,” he assured, placing a hand over Joel’s heart.

“You were…hit…”

“Nah, it’s nothin’. Clinic at Jackson will get us both up ‘n runnin’ again in no time.” Tommy paused. “Just rest for right now, alright? Once they get here, we’ll get on our way home,” Tommy reassured, grabbing Joel’s hand briefly to offer a comforting squeeze. Ellie pressed a hand to his arm as he passed by, heading back upstairs to watch for Dina and Jesse.

Ellie kneeled back to Joel’s side, gathering his left hand in both of hers again. He brought his right over to them, placing it atop hers, rubbing his thumb in circles on the backs of her hands.

“You heard your brother; you need to rest. We’ll get you up and back home once they get here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

“I can’t rest.”

Ellie looks at him confused. “I know you’re in pain and that it’s probably hard to get real rest right now. You don’t even have to sleep, you can just ‘rest your eyes’,” she joked, freeing her left hand to use air quotes. “You love resting your eyes.”

“No, kiddo,” he said, struggling to form the right words.

The term of endearment strikes a chord in her. There was a small party at the Tipsy Bison one night and both of them showed up. It was a year into their estrangement and Ellie cursed herself every time she gave him the pleasure of even looking in his direction, let alone talking to him. Within an hour, Ellie was pissed. Some comment Seth made about her vocabulary. She cussed him out and rushed out the door, Joel right on her heels.

“Kiddo-“ his voice was gentle, never raised.

“Don’t! Don’t. What the fuck don’t you get? I said I’d come back here, but we’re done. You don’t get to fucking talk to me, especially using names like that. Keep your fucking distance,” she yelled, some Jacksonfolk trickling out of the bar at the shouting as she stormed off towards their his house.

Joel was left in the street that evening, soft flurries of snow coating his hair and beard as he watched her storm down the Jackson streets. He could see their his house from there. He intently watched every step she took, her right hand coming up to her face every so often. She was crying.

He never called her ‘kiddo’ after that. Until now.

“I can’t.”

“Joel, what the fuck are you talking about? Did I miss something?”

She did.

How the hell did she miss it?

The crook between his neck and shoulder; similar to Tess.

He had been bitten.

Her face drops immediately, her mouth slowly falling open as he pulled a fistful of his clothes to the side, showing it better. “I’m…not waking up again.”

Ellie’s breath is rapid now, hitching with every inhale. She’s reached a point beyond hyperventilating. She is choking, coughing, suffocating. Her whole body burns as she pulls her hands away from his, struggling to even know where to put them because she can’t think.

“Joel…” she whispers, almost as a warning. She’s fallen back to sitting on her heels now, an uncomfortable and unsure space between them.

Joel took a deep breath in, preparing himself. “They kicked and knocked you out. I didn’t have any strength…I couldn’t fight them. They pulled me up to my feet and forced me to stand. The guys took turns punching me in the gut…one of them also giving me this cut from my temple to my jaw. They were laughing at this point, like they were playing a game. They…” he paused, collecting his breath. He felt like he was running out. “They kicked you a few more times, they wanted you awake to watch. When you didn’t wake up…three of the guys left, mumbling something about infected.” He paused again to catch his breath. Even recounting it was almost too much for him. The anger in his eyes was raging remembering how they kicked her. “Few minutes later…they were coming back down the stairs with a runner. They had tied a rope around its neck like it was a dog. They teased me with it…threatened Tommy, too. I begged them not to. They…they gave the runner some slack and I tried to turn away, but two of them were holding me up by the arms…I couldn’t go anywhere. I turned my head and…” He motioned to the bite. It was two sets of teeth marks. He was bit twice. “They all laughed and pulled the leash back, shooting the runner in the face. The two guys let go of me and I fell…broke my nose. I’ve been in and out since then. I don’t know why or how I even woke up the first time.”

She waited, collecting what the hell he just told her. “...why isn’t the runner still here?”

He sighed again, closing his eyes briefly. Even in his current state, he’s dreaming of stringing them up by their insides, letting them hang from the cross beams of the mansion. “They knew you were immune. So, I guess in an attempt to…hurt you, they took away the evidence that I got bit. The blonde girl kneeled in front of me…said she wanted you to have hope I’d be okay. That we’d be okay.”

“What the fuck,” is all she could manage.

Joel coughed and her eyes grew wide. “Wait, it’s your neck…” she breathed in with no satisfaction. “You…you don’t…”

“Have a lot of time,” he continued, finishing her thought. “No, baby, I don’t.”

They stayed in silence for a while, unable to grasp what exactly reality was. This was never supposed to happen. She’s supposed to forgive him. They’re supposed to watch Curtis and Viper 2. They’re supposed to go back to Jackson and practice guitar together. She wants to learn to make those little wooden animals he loves spending so much time on, too, and she knows he’ll teach her. They’re both still needed on patrol. They’re meant to have more meals together. They’re supposed to have a future.

“Rehash whatever you need to. I won’t blame you. Do what you need to, kiddo.”

“You’re about to fucking die and you want me to rehash my feelings? You want me to fucking kick and scream and hit you?!”

“If you need to.”

“I’m about to lose you-“ she cuts herself off, a choked sob at lose. She should never have to say that. She never dreamed she’d ever have to say that.

Joel sighed, his eyes closing briefly. Why. Why like this?

She crawls towards him, burying herself against his chest. Don’t fucking touch me. It rings in her ears. It taunts her. She swatted his hand away and told him we’re done. She left him stood at Saint Mary’s, the same hospital he saved her life at. The place where he told her “we’re not done; we have a future,” was now where he was being told that they were done.

But then they talked on the porch. They had hope. He had hope she was coming back. That she wanted to try for them. They wouldn’t have to be done anymore.

And now they were done. For good. There was no coming back, not from this.

She pushes himself as close as she can against him, burying her face in his left shoulder as she clings to his coat and sobs. She sobs for their whole journey. Every moment together she wished she clung to him but didn’t. The nights during Winter when she couldn’t sleep unless she was right beside him. She cried for their nights in Jackson when she woke him up with her nightmares, crawling under the comforter with him. She cried for their quick goodbye hugs before he’d leave for patrol. She cried for when she would cling to his arm when they would meet other Jacksonfolk. She cried for the times he kissed her forehead or lightly rubbed her back when

She cried for their good days of practicing guitar, watching Jurassic Park, and living the life they never thought they’d get. The days she woke up to him cooking breakfast and they had orange juice. How he always gave her the slightly bigger portion so she’d eat more. The days when she helped him with little construction projects around Jackson. The days he’d visit her and Shimmer at the stables, always commending Ellie on how well she took care of him. Sometimes he’d help her out by brushing his mane. He needed the experience, she said.

She cried for their bad days of arguments, disputes, and going to bed angry. She always woke up to a note on her nightstand the mornings after. On patrol. I’m sorry about yesterday. I’d like to talk about it later if that’s alright with you. Be safe today. Love, Joel. They always reconciled, one of them cracking a joke at the end to lighten the mood. It was a miracle they were ever able to reconcile, considering how terrible they could both be at talking about their feelings. But they always managed in their own little way.

She cried for their estrangement. How she’d treated him the past two years; avoiding him at any cost. Glaring at him if he was in the immediate vicinity. Always finding an out if he approached her. She would go through Tommy to find out Joel’s schedule, all so she could work around it. She cried for how her smile faded even seeing him across town. The anger she harbored towards him those years, unable to see any hope or light at the end of the tunnel.

She cried for him. She cried for who he was. Who he is. All he ever did was protect her and ask her to be safe. His care for her was infinite and it nearly drove her insane. No one ever cared for her how he did. Every day, he did everything he could for her. Whether it be out on the road or in the security of Jackson, he never stopped caring. Never stopped protecting or loving. To show her a glimpse into Before; who he was Before.. To show her what having a family, a father, was like. He went above and beyond to give her the life she deserved, all because he wanted her to be happy. It was never about him.

She cried for the smiles she caught. The once-in-a-blue-moon toothy smiles where he truly laughed. His small chuckles or when he’d blow air out of his nose at some snarky remark she made. Sometimes he’d smile during their meals together. She thought it was weird at first when he told her “it’s not because of the food.” He was happy to just be with her. To have a sense of normalcy with this little girl. To escape from the horrors of infected outside the walls of Jackson and be able to sit at a wooden table and eat with proper plates and silverware for a full meal.

She cried over his gentleness. He was a violent man. He killed and tortured men for years and he was effective. But when it came to her, he was nothing but gentle. He always spoke softly, always held her as gently as his calloused, blood stained hands could manage. How any touch was feather-light and didn’t feel like it could come from someone known for notorious violence like Joel. But she was the exception. Her delicate, fourteen-year-old self brought out a side of him that he always believed was buried two decades prior.

She cried for missing his contact. They got so comfortable after Winter. Holding hands, hugs on the harder days, and the general proximity. They’d sit beside each other by the fire, and Joel would wake up with her head alarmingly close to him, some mornings on his thigh or shin. It became more frequent when they moved into Jackson. She was glued to his side any time they left the house; other residents of Jackson thought it was sweet. But, ever since the estrangement and shoving him away, she didn’t think they’d ever be this close again.

And through their estrangement, he was patient. He waited for her those years. He was heartbroken over it and she knew, but he was still patient, not knowing if she’d even come back or try to repair it. He stayed the whole time, still, patiently waiting. And if she never went back, he’d stay anyway, content with the time he had with her. He loved her too much to force it. She was alive, and that’s all that mattered to him.

And she was about to lose that man in mere hours.

She was draped across his lap now, face pressed into his neck as his was pressed into her hair. She sobbed into him, soaking his coat and button-up. His arms were wrapped around her, left arm cradling her head into him as his right was on her back, rubbing and tracing gentle patterns and designs through her shirt. She’d never be held like this again.

“Kiddo,” he spoke, breaking her concentration on the fabric of his shirt. “I’m startin’ to not feel too well.”

Ellie shut her eyes tight, tears spilling over immediately. “No. No, no, no, no, no. No, fuck. How much fucking time do you have? I still need time,” she pleaded.

“Time for what?”

“To just…just…be here. To be with you while you’re still…”

He gave her a look and she knew exactly what he meant. They didn’t have that time. His eyes would close soon enough, and it wouldn’t be Joel to open them again.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, sobbing into his chest once again. She was mumbling incoherences into his coat, wailing sobs coming out of her that didn’t even sound human. This was reality. She hadn’t felt it until now. She cried, she screamed bloody murder into his chest. He was dying. He was dead already.

He hugged her back as tight as he could manage. He was still injured, but injuries be damned if they ever stopped him from comforting or protecting her. She comes first.

“I need more time,” she weeped into his chest.

“I know, baby. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t. I’d rather be gone before I have the chance to hurt you.” He kissed her head quickly once but held a longer one the second time, his eyes closing at the sound of her sobs at the lost contact between them. “Hey…” his mouth still in her hair, trying to keep himself from eating a mouthful of her auburn strands. “Baby…can you call for Tommy? I want to see him.”

She gave his shirt a few more shuddering hiccups before pulling away, stepping to the bottom of the staircase. “Don’t close your fucking eyes.”

She raced to the top of the stairs, skipping two or three at a time until she reached the door. It flew open, Ellie nearly collapsing to the floor as Tommy rushed to her side.

“Whoa, hey. The hell happened?” Tommy paused, his hand held inches above her shoulder. “Did he-“

“He wants to talk to you,” she said, adjusting herself to sit on the floor she just collapsed on.

Tommy rushed down the stairs as Ellie stayed on the first floor of the mansion, her knees bent in front of her as her forearms draped over them, tears spilling down her face. She hugged her legs closer to herself, face burying in the space between her kneecaps. Joel was dying.

Tommy kneeled beside his older brother, seeing the bite immediately from Joel’s clothes still being pulled to the side. Tommy’s face went still, hands flexing into fists.

“How-“

“They tortured me with a runner. Bit me twice.” Joel’s breathing was shaky now. Emotion or the infection taking over, he wasn’t sure. “I’m not feeling well, Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t respond. There was nothing to say. His big brother was dying. The last of his blood, his companion for life, his construction partner. Nothing prepares you for that, not even the world they live in.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

“Dammit, Joel,” he whispers, turning away to wipe his face. “What…you want me to get her out of here? Head back home like nothin’ happened? Let you run around as some fuckin’ infected and risk seeing you again in that state? Risk her seeing you that way?!”

“No…no.” Joel pulled his revolver from his belt, holding it out to Tommy. “Before she’s back downstairs. Please, Tommy. She can’t do something like this. Please, she can’t. I can’t have her…” he hesitates, unable to finish that thought. “I don’t want her seeing me as an infected, neither. I don’t want you seein’ that. Please, Tommy, you have to.”

Tommy’s response was immediate and sure. “I ain’t fucking shooting you, Joel.”

“You’ve killed hundreds of people, Tommy.”

“Those are hunters, Joel! People we fucking stole from ages ago! People who were the object of our grief! You’re my brother!”

“So do me the mercy of shooting me in the head.”

There’s a silence. A hard, cold, unbelievable silence between them. Tommy paced back and forth in front of Joel, anxiously messing with his hands as he imagines how any of this would play out. Where do I shoot him? Forehead? Temple? Chin? Will Ellie hate me? Will Maria hate me? What if I can’t take it like Joel couldn’t? What if Ellie attempts because she can’t take it?

“Please, Tommy, don’t let me turn. I don’t want you to see that. I don’t want her to see that. Fucking…Tommy, please.”

Tommy faces him head on, his eyes red, expression clear. “Do it yourself,” he bites, turning towards the stairs. He pauses at the bottom, hand gripping the railing. Fuck, that was a bad call.

“I love you, baby brother.”

Tommy’s chin drops to his chest as he pulls himself up the stairs, the sleeves of his coat wiping profusely at his face. His head burns. He opens the door and Ellie is still there, hugging herself on the floor, knees brought to her chest as she weeps in front of him.

Tommy doesn’t say a word, only grabs his rifle from the back of the couch and takes watch at the front door again. Ellie watches him, confused. He’d say something, right? Right?

She fumbles getting up, throwing the door back open as she rushes back down to Joel.

The crown of his head is pressed against the glass behind him, eyes closed tight as tears pool down the sides of his face and into his ears, some falling and dripping off his jaw. She can see his shoulders and abdomen jump with each sob. He has never looked like this before.

He lifts his head from the glass, meeting her eyes as she kneels back beside him. He sought her hand this time, holding it tight. His eyes are red and there are wet streaks along his cheeks and jaw.

They sat there in silence, Ellie attentively playing with his fingers as he occasionally sniffed, trying to push those emotions far away from her to see. Joel cleared his throat and adjusted his back as best he could against the glass.

“Listen-“ he started, a gentle graze of his thumb over her hand.

“No.”

“Ellie-”

“Joel, stop…stop…”

“You don’t even know-“

“I know exactly what you want to fucking say. No.”

He freed his hands from hers, picking the revolver up from the floor beside him. He picked both her hands up again, placing the gun tightly in her grip. “It’s fully loaded. No Russian roulette, nothing.”

“Russian roulette?”

He laughed wetly. “Get Tommy to explain it to you.”

“I want you to.” He’d never get to explain anything to her after this.

He smiles briefly. She’s like a little kid asking to get her way, and he’d be damned if he didn't explain it.

“It’s a…dangerous game. You put one round in the chamber, spin it, place it against the body, and you fire at your own head. Your fate is up to chance.” He rubs his thumb over hers. “But there’s no chance with this.”

She gripped the revolver, staring at it. “…Is that why Tommy walked away? Did you ask him?”

He nodded. “He told me to do it myself.”

Well, why can't you?

And it’s almost like Joel can sense the question from a mile away.

“I’m afraid I’ll flinch again.” His voice cracks on again. “With the infection already startin’ to take root I…”

“Joel…I can’t fucking shoot you. I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t want to feel whatever it is they feel. I don’t know if I’ll know it’s you and won’t be able to control what I’m doin’. I don’t want to give you another bite. I don’t want to give you something else that’ll keep you up at night. When you think of me, I don’t want that to be what you picture. I don’t want to tear you apart.”

Joel succumbs to a coughing fit and nearly coughs up blood as he leans forward, Ellie pounding on his back. Joel heaves as his head hangs above his legs, Ellie rubbing his back gently. It’s Riley all over again. Joel sits back up against the glass and exhales heavily as Ellie brings their hands back together. This is going fast.

Ellie hesitates, absentmindedly squeezing his hand tighter. “What if I forget what you look like? What if I shoot you through the face and that’s all I see from now on? What if I can’t remember your face? What if I try to draw you and all I see is a bullet hole between your eyes? What if I can’t remember your nose or your mouth or your eyes or-“

She was rambling and furiously wiping the tears away from her cheeks now. Joel brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks. He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks multiple times, wiping from her nose to her ear lobes, and spoke. “What color are my eyes?”

She stared at him for a minute, eyes threatening to spill over again. She looked down to the space between them, avoiding his gaze. “Brown.”

“Hey.” He said firmer, forcing her to look at him. “What color are my eyes?”

She stared at him for a minute, keeping the contact. “Brown,” she said, still skeptical.

“Ellie, baby…what color are my eyes?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and exhaled. “Brown. Your…your eyes are brown. Your eyes are brown,” she breathed, almost relieved to say that back to him. “Your eyes are brown and your…your nose has a little arch to it. You have the scar on your temple and the one on your nose, too.” She hesitated for a minute, lightly laughing to herself. “You have these two little patches in your beard where you don’t have any hair-“

“Alright,” he rolled his eyes, smiling back at her. He brought her head towards him, pressing a kiss to her hairline before pulling her away again.

“Your hair is a mix of black and white. Your ears sit close to your head and you have these two little creases between your eyes, too.”

He smiled at her again. This is what he wanted. After how she expressed the fear of forgetting what he looked like, this is what he wanted for her. What she needed. For her to know she could remember him. That if she drew him, if she remembered him, she remembered him, not something else.

She lightly smiled back. “The corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile, too. Sometimes there’ll be three or four if you laugh hard.”

She noticed the small things in him. She had him perfectly pictured in her mind, down to the minute details of his eye crinkles. But she didn’t do it just so she could remember his face; it was because she loved him. Because she loved them- those little, physical quirks he’d nearly forgotten about himself.

He smiled bigger, just for that.

Her smile faded fast, reality coming back to her. “Your eyes crinkle when you smile…” she trailed off, looking down as she took his hands from her face and into her hers, placing them in their laps. She was never going to him smile again.

“C’mere,” he asked and she climbed back against him, contorting herself against his chest as her cheek pressed against his heart. Her right hand had a section of his flannel balled up into her fist, clinging to what she still had left of him. Her left was in her lap, fidgeting with his fingers.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, Ellie attentively playing with his fingers to distract herself from their fate approaching at a rapid rate. She crossed them over each other, intertwined hers with his, balled his hands into fists, and held his every way she knew how.

The longer they sat, the more labored his breathing became. She could feel him fading; dying. He could, too. It was getting harder to breathe. Deeper inhales were needed for almost every other breath. He was lightheaded; dizzy. His head was dropping more, like his neck muscles were giving out. The infection was getting far. It was a network at this point, vines emerging from his shoulder into his neck and chest; it resembled tree roots. He was sweating and getting hot. This was going way too fast.

“Babygirl…”

“No,” she whimpered into his chest, holding that ball of his flannel tighter.. “No, Joel. Please…stop.”

“Ellie, we’re risking it. I’m…I’m going, kiddo. I can tell.”

She curled herself tighter into his lap, bending her knees and bringing them closer to her face as they fell against his chest. He pulled his hands from hers, wrapping them tighter around her. She’s always been so small, and right now was no exception. She fit into him so easily, completely encapsulated by his embrace.

Ellie was trembling with sobs; a mix of hiccups, hyperventilating, and a wailing that any clicker could hone in on from miles away. She felt like she was falling apart. His embrace is supposed to offer her support and stability, not make her feel like they’re nowhere to be found. Security and protection, and yet she feels open, vulnerable, and exposed.

Her fist in his flannel moved to his arm, her left arm following as she held onto his forearms, trying to ground herself in his embrace and how she should feel against him.

He’s practically dead. Maybe that’s why; it’s barely him at this point. The infection is taking him from her. And that is as much of a reason she needs to go through with this. What feels terrible to her is a thousand times worse for him. He’ll be with Sarah. He’ll be free.

“Baby,” he started. He hadn’t called her that in years before today. And she had already lost count of the amount of times he’d used it within the last few hours. She’s never gonna hear it again. “Hey, look at me, please.” She pulled away and scooted off his lap slightly, her legs still draped across him. His hands found her cheeks, his hold noticeably weaker. He smiled at her.

This little girl. His little girl. He smiled at her; because of her. The little girl who attacked him (and Tess) when they first met. Who did nothing but cling to his side because he protected her. I need something smuggled out of the city. To you, she’s cargo. But then there was Henry and Sam, nights together on the road, car rides, Jackson (a glimpse into their future), a life threatening injury, and her life on the line. And somehow…it became more than a job. She became more than just cargo. Somewhere along the way, the fortified walls built up around him were torn down by her. He protected, provided, and cared for her. He nurtured her. He reassured her. He held her tight and called her “babygirl.” He saw more importance in holding her hand through a night sleep than he did in keeping watch over them.

Eventually, that cargo was hearing him sing and being taught guitar. That smuggler was stringing up lights around her makeshift home in their her garage. Somewhere along the way, two unrelated survivors of the world, brought together as a job, were walking hand-in-hand down the streets of their new home together.

At first, she seemed to just be a replacement for Sarah; her ghost following him everywhere. Those nightmares becoming more prevalent when Ellie entered the picture; a constant reminder of his failure to Sarah. But then Ellie wormed her way in with that terrible pun book, atrocious vocabulary for a fourteen-year-old, and non-stop questions which kept him awake (and annoyed) that did him in. She started to become her own person to him; an opportunity. A second chance at fatherhood. To feel and embrace the love that gave him the greatest twelve years of his life. To continue where he left off with it all. And motherfuckers be damned if anything was going to get in his way of loving his little girl again.

“I love you,” and fuck, he looked heartbroken and in love. This was the first and last time she'd ever hear him say it. Regretful.

She smiled back at him. It was always understood between them; they didn’t have to say it. She wanted to say it before he left for patrol or before she went…anywhere without him. But a quick hug, kiss on the head, and a “be safe,” was his way of saying it every day. For her, it was always a tight hug paired with, “If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” or a similar endearment. They had their ways, and that was enough.

But right now, he needed her to know for sure.

Joel took in another shaky breath. He was falling. “I love you…so much, babygirl.” His hold was so soft as he rubbed his thumb over her cheek again.

His face was enough to tell her everything. They got really good at the whole ‘silent communication’ thing. A certain look in his eye or the way his eyebrows sat was all she needed. And now, his eyes were gentle. He looked like he did when he gave her the tape of the space launch three years ago. He looked like he did when he heard Linda Ronstadt on that tape after so many years. He looked like he did when she’d treat him extra father-like to really sell it to other Jacksonfolk. His expression looked like…the same it always did when he looked at her.

Everything he ever did was for her. Trying to send her away with Tommy, shoving her away from him in that basement, massacring the fireflies, and every decision in between was made because he loved her, and that came before anything else. He didn’t need to expand on any of it; she knew now.

Her anger was palpable during the estrangement. Her trust was broken, she was betrayed, disappointed, and angrier than she knew what to do with. She didn’t hate him, though. She struggled for a long time, but it never turned to hatred. And the realization of that for her is as clear to her now as it may ever be, considering how easily she answers. Like they were never estranged.

“I love you, too,” she responds, the same expression on her face. I just heard him say his last words. He just heard my last words to him.

He pulls her head forward, pressing his forehead to hers. Her hands come up to his wrists, holding on to him. She slows her breathing to match his, earning one last sliver of comfort from him.

She pulls his hands away, placing them in the space between them as she leans to the side, picking the revolver back up. She fiddles with it in her hands, trembling as she grips the trigger. She pulls her legs off from how they’ve been draped across him and tucks them under her, sitting on her heels.

She loosely places the barrel of the revolver against his temple, Joel flinching at the familiar contact.

His right hand came up to her face, bringing her head down once more, kissing her hairline once and resting his lips there briefly. A second one, just for good measure. “I love you so damn much, babygirl,” he whispers, tears from his own cheeks hitting her forehead. He leans back, the crown of his head hitting the glass.

Ellie grabs at his hands in his lap, the two of them fighting for who can hold the other tighter. Both his hands come around her left as she pulls the hammer back. Tears drip off her chin into the mess of their hands in his lap.

He shuts his eyes tight as she exhales.

“I’m sorry. I love you-”

bang.

His body jumps against her, his hands immediately releasing her left as his head falls to the side.

“Joel?” She whispered, watching his face. She dropped the revolver, cupping his face upright. “Hey, Joel. Look at me. Joel, fucking look at me! Fuck..dammit Joel, fucking look at me, asshole. Look at me!” Every other word was a sob. “Fuck…you’re…why did I do this. Why did I listen to you, why did I…” she sobbed, pressing her forehead against his, gripping his neck tight. “Please…please, don’t do this. Come back, Joel. Please, please come back. Please…” she pleaded, tears spilling down her chin into his empty hands. “Joel…come on. We were…I was…I told Dina I was going to invite you over. Curtis and Viper 2…I found it. I was gonna ask you…fuck…fuck…I know you would…you would’ve said yes…” Her throat was burning up. She brought her hands around the back of his neck, bringing his face into the crook of her shoulder as she rested her chin atop his head, her right hand combing through his hair gently. “...We were gonna…we were gonna be okay.” she choked. Were.

The basement door swung open and Tommy stormed down the stairs, his beretta in hand as his arm was extended out in front of him. He was coming back to do it. Tommy stopped a few feet behind Ellie, Joel’s head still tucked into her neck.

“Ellie…”

Ellie was sobbing into Joel’s hair, Tommy at a loss of what to do, if anything, for her. “He was going fast…we…I had to.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he noticed the wound in his brother’s temple, blood still pouring out. Ellie was drenched.

HIs voice was quiet, completely different to how he sounded barreling down the stairs seconds prior. “I was gonna get my shit together…I-I would’ve done it, sweetheart.”

Ellie pushed past that. Can’t go back now. “We need to…wrap him up. Sheets, towels, something…”

Tommy acknowledged silently, walking back upstairs without another word.

Ellie stayed there, kneeling on that cold basement tile with Joel’s face tucked into her neck. He was heavy now as dead weight. Joel’s hands were still open in his lap, pools of Ellie’s tears still present in the creases of his palms. “You were alive three minutes ago and now we have to wrap up your fucking corpse…” She pulled his face away from her neck, holding it in front of her. His eyes were half shut. She opened his left eyelid slightly, checking for life. She had to be sure. Sure enough, nothing. The eyes that held so much light, gentleness, and love were void of…anything now. No crinkles in the corner of his eyes, and the brown of his irises even felt faded.

She stayed like that, studying his face. The second Tommy is back, Joel will be wrapped up, his face covered and his body wrapped up as he’s put six feet under, never to be unraveled again. She needed this now, to make sure she memorized everything, even through the tear-filled lens of her vision. Those patches in his beard, the arch of his nose, his temple and nose scars, the shape of his ears, the way the front of his hair curls on a good day, the brown of his eyes, and those crinkles she never once took for granted that sat so openly at the corners of his eyes.

She’d never see those crinkles again.

~~~~

Tags: @not-so-mundane-after-all @sentientmasstransit @memelovescaps @tloubraininfection @tlouobsessed @fieldsoftulips @bejeweledmp3 @swol-bear @cassianendor @bluestar22x @elliiewiilliiams @longl0ngtime @dilf-din @therebedragcns @joelxmiller @scootkiddo @astrasomnium @fallenstar07 @novemberrain-writes @hooptedoodley

[sillyunknownkitkat]

Hey !

Now, I know this account had other names and did other things in the past but this time I'll use it to write headcanons, oneshots, series,... about characters and self insert (so reader's) and character ×/+ character

So please send ask but be mindful of the rules that are under the cut :)

ABSOLUTE NO'S :

Anything with poop

Pee if it's sexual (but it can be a little reader having a accident for example)

Pedophilia (the best I'll do is 16 and 18 but if one of the characters is older then they have to at least be 18)

Extreme NSFW (if it's in your ask I'll explain)

Poly releshionship with more than 4 people

Anything with actual rape (cnc might be okay)

Racism coming from the reader or the characters (But can be a headcanons if you got harassed by someone for exemple)

Death (like suicide or someone graphically killing another [for the last of us and resident evil "zombies" dying ate okay]

Sexual Assault (once again if it's too graphic)

SUBJECT YOU CAN ASK :

Any hardcore kink (if you're not sure you can message me and we'll talk about it)

worms, maggots, ...

Fluff, angst, nsfw, ...

LGTBQIIA+

Self insert or a ship

Headcanons, oneshots, ...

Self harm (not too graphic)

Eating disorders (again not too graphic)

Mental illnesses

Hybrid characters (like puppy!Chris, bunny!Izuku, ...)

Pretty much anything actually as long as it's no from the list above

FANDOMS AND CHARACTERS :

UNDERTALE : Sans, Papyrus, Asgore, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton, Grillby, Muffet, Frisk, Chara, Asriel, Astel (I don't remember for wich au or wich au but it's a new Dreemurr basically), Gaster => and their Au's such as

-Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, story shift, horrortale, echotale, gastergang, dreamtale, Ink, Error, Fresh, aftertale, reaper, ... all of the basics

....

RESIDENT EVIL : Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy, Carlos Oliveira, Ethan Winters, Rose winters, Zoé Baker, Lucas Baker, Karl Heisenberg, Dona Beneviento ,... No big Au's but might change from which game they're in and I can "change what happens"

...

THE LAST OF US (1 AND 2) : Ellie Williams, Joel Miller, Dina Woodward, Jesse, Tommy Miller, Abby Anderson, Many/Mani, Owen, ... the games, not the series, tho

...

SALLY FACE : Sal Fisher, Larry Johnson, Lisa Johnson, Ashley Campbell, ...

Same as above, no Au's, but changes in the game are okay

...

MY HERO ACADEMIA : Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Eijirou Kirishima, Shoto Todoroki, Kaminari Denki, Mina Ashido, Hanta Sero, Hitoshi Shinsou,Tokoyami Fumikage, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki, Nejire Hadou, Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada, Toshinori Yagi, Keigo Takami, Rumi Usagiyama, Tenko Shimura, Touya Todoroki, Himiko Toga, Jin Bubaigawara, Shuichi Iguchi, Kai Chisaki, Hari Kurono, Kendo Rappa, Shin Nemoto, Toya Setsuno, ...

...

CALL OF DUTY : John "Bravo 6" Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John(ny) "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garick, Alex Keller, Nikolai Badanov, Kate Laswell, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, Keegan Russ, Konig, Phillips Graves, Kim Horangi, ...

That's all for now :) Don't be shy and ask

Hope you have a good day/night and be safe everyone <3

[droids-in-disguise]

Favorite Books I've Read in 2023 (so far)

So fun fact I read a lot, here are my top 10 books that I’ve read so far this year, in the order I read them. Never really posted this sort of thing on tumblr before but I thought I’d give it a try.

Book details and some of my thoughts under the cut.

A Thousand Steps Into Night by Traci Chee (2022)

YA Fantasy

A Thousand Steps Into Night is a book I 100% picked up because of the cover and because it was super cheap. I hadn’t ever heard anything about the book or author. The best way I can describe this novel is that reading it conjured up the same feelings that I get from watching a Ghibli film. Our protagonist Miuko is an ordinary girl from a small village until one day she is cursed and slowly begins transforming into a demon. Hoping to find a way to break the curse, she begins to travel the land meeting lots of colorful characters, gods, and mythic figures along the way. It’s a very atmospheric and wonderfully written book that pulls a lot of inspiration from Japanese mythology and folklore

A Restless Truth by Freya Marske (2022)

Romance/Fantasy

This is the second book in the Last Binding trilogy. I feel like you could probably get away with skipping the first book if you wanted to since both books are somewhat self-contained, but why would you? The first book (A Marvellous Light) is awesome. Our story takes place in an alternate-Edwardian England where magic is real and certain people can practice it, unbeknownst to the rest of the non-magical population. Maud Blyth, a non-magical person who has the privilege of knowing about magic, is working with members of the magical community as well as her brother (the protagonist from the first book) to prevent a dangerous magical contract form falling into the wrong hands. She is travelling on an ocean liner when the old woman in her care ends up dead. Cue the murder mystery shenanigans and sapphic romance!

Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun (2022)

Romance

I actually read this book twice this year, once by myself and once for my book club. It has what is quite possibly one of the most bonkers rom-com plots I’ve ever seen and I love how ridiculous it is. Basically, our main character Ellie meets a women in Powell’s books and they have a magical, Christmas one-night-stand. Fast forward almost one year later, Ellie is having a difficult time out here in good-old Portland, OR after getting fired from her dream job and having to instead rough it as a barista. In a last-ditch effort to not lose her apartment, she agrees to marry her job’s landlord so he can get his inheritance and Ellie gets a percentage in exchange. However, it turns out that her one-night-stand from last year is her new fake-fiancé’s sister. GASP! The only place this book loses points for me is that there’s too many goddamn Taylor Swift references.

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer (2021)

YA Sci-Fi

If I had to pick a favorite out of all these books it would be this one. Reading this book felt like getting hit by a bus. Our POV character is Ambrose Cusk, an astronaut aboard the Coordinated Endeavor who has been sent on a mission into deep space to rescue his sister. His only companion is another boy named Kodiak who comes from a rival nation (think Cold War-ear space race). As they slowly start to interact with one another it becomes clear that for some reason neither one of them have any memory of the ship’s launch. The only knowledge they have of what’s going on comes from the ship’s internal computer and infrequent communications from Earth. As they begin to investigate, they discover a lot more than they bargained for. The first half of this book is like your typical gay space adventures and then at like the 50% mark onwards the rug gets pulled out from under you and you just have to go WHAT THE FUCK and then when you finish the book you just have to pretend like you’re fine and can move on with your life (you can’t). My only complaint is that this book should not have been YA, like there’s absolutely 0 reason for it to be.

Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley (2021)

YA Thriller

This book was unexpected for me. I have a habit of just reading books I know absolutely nothing about because someone, somewhere said it was good and because I think the cover is pretty. For some reason I assumed this would be a fantasy book but it’s actually a thriller/mystery novel, which is not at all a genre I typically go for. Our main character, Daunis Fontaine, is a biracial Ojibwe girl who loves hockey and her community. Her status as an unenrolled member of her tribe has her stuck with a foot in each world. After a family tragedy, circumstances push her to agree to work undercover with the FBI in order to find the source of a dangerous substance that has infiltrated her community and threatens the lives of those she cares about. I found Daunis to be an extremely compelling character with a strong narrative voice. Watching all the layers of the mystery getting peeled away through her investigation was extremely satisfying. She uses mainstream scientific knowledge in tandem with more tribal specific knowledge of botany and medicine in order to figure things out, which I thought was super cool. This is another book where I feel like it could’ve gotten away with not being YA, but I don’t feel as strongly about it as I do in regards to The Darkness Outside Us.

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune (2023)

Sci-fi

Where to even begin this one… Have you ever wanted a book that was partly a story about a robot found family on post-apocalyptic Earth and partly a Pinocchio retelling? Yeah me either, but I’m so glad I got it. Victor Lawson is a human raised by robots. He has a peaceful existence with his android father and other mechanical friends until his curiosity unknowingly alerts robots from his father’s former life to their existence. Vic’s father is captured and it’s up to the rest of the family to rescue him. Victor is also asexual and how he describes and navigates his asexuality was so similar to my own it was like looking in a mirror.

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. (2023)

Memoir

This was a wonderful memoir about a queer Muslim as she reconciles those two pieces of her identity, and the struggles she faces finding community. Growing up religious, there were a lot of experiences in this memoir that I personally related to. Something I really enjoyed is how the author retold stories from the Quran and used them to frame her own queer experiences. There was a lot about this book that was very comforting to me, and I feel like it was written in a way that was accessible and easy to understand.

Black Sun (and by extension it’s sequel, Fevered Star) by Rebecca Roanhorse (2020/2022)

Fantasy

Black Sun is the first book in the Between Earth and Sky trilogy, an epic fantasy series with a world inspired by pre-colonial American civilizations. This series has such a large and complex cast of characters, with chapters from multiple POVs, so it’s impossible to say if there is really any one protagonist. Essentially, the upcoming solar eclipse foretells the return of the crow god and the unbalancing of the status quo that has previously been maintained by an order of priests. Some characters are working to make sure this comes to pass, some hope to prevent it, and some aren’t quite sure where their loyalties lie. By the end of the first chapter I already knew I was in for a wild ride (the book opens on a mother sewing her 12-year old son’s eyes shut, ew). This series also features a queernormative world, where non-binary characters and same-gender relationships are commonplace.

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron (2021)

YA Fantasy

This book was so cool and really had a lot going for it. Briseis Greene has the uncanny ability to grow and control plants. She and her two moms live in Brooklyn where they run a flower shop. One day, a visitor arrives to tell Bri that she has inherited an old country estate in upstate NY from her birth family. Bri wonders if this house could be the answer to her family’s financial woes and so they travel upstate where Bri begins to learn more about her abilities and her family’s history. Every answered question leads to dozens more unanswered and between strange individuals wandering the estate, townspeople who seem to know secrets, and increasing instances of violence and vandalism, Bri begins ask herself if staying here is worth it if it means her family might be in danger. This book is a queer, mythology inspired, part urban fantasy, part thriller/haunted house story, of a modern fairytale. Truly something in it for everyone.

[renegadeknight]

Hi Rachel!! Surprise self-rec time!🌷Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💖

(If you already got this feel free to just link me to that post. But know I adore your writing even if I haven’t made much time for fic lately.)

Hi Kayli!! Thank you for sending this to me 💜

rooftop rendezvous - the start of my beloved rooftop verse, this first fic is a canon verse alt meet au that finds Joel and Ellie running into each other on the roof. it's sort of a ship in the bottle fic in that it all takes place on the roof where they first meet, across several different nights they spend there together. you know, just your typical father-daughter bonding things

tough as nails (and built for breaking) - this is a one shot from Ellie's pov that takes place between chapters 4 and 5 of rooftop rendezvous, it's my first posted foray into some action and a different spin on the david arc and I'm very proud of how it turned out

stubborn love - it's not finished yet but how can I not list it here, my modern au foster verse that I've been working on for over a year. I love a good alt meet au (as evidenced by my wip list) and throwing them into a modern verse while trying to recreate all the canon beats has been so delightful

[tvccreator]

Welcome to My Tumblr!

(This is an updated version of the pinned comment I used to have, in case people get confused - I haven't been nearly as active on DA and Wattpad, hence why the links are gone now.)

Hello! My name is Ellie, and I'm a fanfiction writer and artist here on Tumblr! I'm a 22-year-old afab person who does a lot of fanfic writing and actual writing in my down time. I'm currently going to college for a major in English with a focus on writing and a minor in film studies!

I'm up for story suggestions and whatnot! Here's a general list of fandoms I'll write/draw pics for:

Super Mario Bros. (including Luigi's Mansion)

Undertale

Deltarune

Kirby

Mago

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

A Hat in Time

Fate/Grand Order

Dungeons and Dragons

Poppy Playtime (yes, really)

Garten of Banban (again - yes, really)

AdventureQuest Worlds

There's a lot more fandoms I write/draw for, but that's a general list with some pretty big fandoms.

For specific characters, here are some common ones I write for (not necessarily ships, but characters I have written for - I'm basically outing myself here for certain stories):

Count Bleck (Super Paper Mario)

Dimentio (Super Paper Mario)

Luigi (Mario Bros.)

King Boo (Luigi's Mansion)

Bowser (Mario Bros.)

Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings (Mario Bros.)

Jevil (Deltarune)

Marx (Kirby)

Drawcia (Kirby)

Void Soul/Void Termina (Kirby)

King Dedede (Kirby)

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Flowey/Omega Flowey/Asriel Dreemurr (Undertale)

Snatcher (A Hat in Time)

Gourmet (Mago)

Bittergiggle (Garten of Banban)

Asmodeus/Ozzie (The Helluva Boss version, the Dungeons and Dragons version, and my own version!)

Fizzarolli (Helluva Boss)

Lucifer Morningstar (Both the Hazbin Hotel version and my own version!)

Purple (Rainbow Friends)

Cyan (Rainbow Friends)

Ink Demon Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine/Bendy and the Dark Revival)

The Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's)

Springtrap/Spring Bonnie/William Afton (Five Nights at Freddy's)

The Joker (DC Comics)

If you want to commission me or simply ask for a fic request, I also partner with @thereaderinsertlady to write fanfiction! Feel free to message me if you are curious! [ Read here for the info on shared commissions! ]

A Few Rules for Commissions/Story Requests (From Me Specifically):

I hyperfixate on stuff a lot, so it could be a while before I finish the request/commission. Hounding me will not make me write the fic faster, either - it makes me lose interest in writing the story, so please for the love of God, be patient. Writers have lives, too, so don't expect them to bow down to your every whim.

I cannot write smut on my own for the life of me (I think I might be heteroromantic asexual, but I'm not positive), so if you ask for something NSFW, I can't guarantee that it will be good. If you're looking for hardcore stuff, go ask TheReaderInsertLady.

No pedophilia. That one should be self explanatory.

I don't do "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" stuff. Sorry, but it makes me extremely uncomfortable.

As evident by some of my already published stories with TheReaderInsertLady, I am of the mind that consent is sexy. Even when writing for the demon king of lust himself, I will always make him ask for consent. I get uncomfortable doing forceful NSFW stuff, so if you want that kind of fic, once again go ask TheReaderInsertLady.

Please, for the love of God, no time-travel fics. A former friend of mine made me completely burnt out on time-travel fics, so please don't ask for those. If it's my own content, I'm fine with some time-travel shenaniganry, but otherwise please just don't ask.

Find me over on AO3 [ here ]!

In case you want to see me suck at video games, my YouTube channel is [ here ]!

Hope you guys enjoy the insanity! 💜💜💜

[maya-matlin]

Happy 'perfect excuse to eat too much chocolate for those of us who are single' day! How do you see each of these Degrassi couples (some of whom are only endgame in our imagination, but whatever!) celebrating Valentine's Day:

Sellie (maybe a creepy horror movie marathon lol)

Zaya (something involving music?!)

Drianca

Jonnor (you know romantic, self-described "cheesy" Jenna would be TOTALLY into Valentine's Day, and Connor would try to make it rally special in his own endearingly awkward way!)

Paige and...whoever we're shipping her with these days. I just think Paige would be having a "fabulous" Valentine's Day :)

Right?? Sadly, I don't have any chocolate. Life is unfair. Hopefully I can get some tomorrow.

Fun, I'll do my best to answer.

1.) Sellie.. they don't strike me as particularly romantic people. Whatever they did would be very low key. Probably a romantic dinner at home followed by watching a movie both of them like. Nothing overly romantic, of course. Or, maybe a little bit of dancing if they're in that sort of mood? Sean definitely surprises Ellie with flowers or something she secretly likes, though. Also, in my mind, Sean and Ellie have at least one kid by now. So they probably arranged for Marco, Jay/Manny, or some other trustworthy person to babysit until the next morning.

2.) So first things first, this was Zaya's first Valentine's Day as an engaged couple. Don't ask me why I've decided that, but in my mind they got engaged on New Year's Day after coming home early from a party. They'd talked about marriage and both were on the same page regarding feeling ready to take the next step. Maya also made it clear she doesn't want a public proposal, so that means no ring hidden in champagne glasses or proposals in flashing lights. So Zig decided to surprise Maya with lit candles and flower petals (orchids - Maya's favorite) at their apartment. He 100% ripped these up personally because he didn't know you could buy fresh flower petals. For Valentine's Day, I definitely see them doing something music related. Both did their best to get the night off work so they could spend the holiday together. I imagine they listened to live music and possibly spent some time at the beach before heading home to finish the night together.

3.) Drew and Bianca are definitely the going out type. Bianca wants to dance and what Bianca wants, Bianca gets. Drew's just along for the ride, but he also enjoys partying on occasion. Of course, then they'd slip away and have a private, more intimate moment elsewhere. Maybe dessert at a café or something.

4.) You're absolutely right. Jenna would LOVE Valentine's Day, and Connor would do his best to go bigger and more romantic every year. I feel like they'd have Valentine's dates involving things like hot air balloon rides, stargazing, seeing Broadway shows, etc. It's never the same thing. Connor plans these things out at least a year in advance. For some reason, I feel like they went on a romantic getaway to someplace like Madrid this year.

5.) Paige is kind of difficult because she seems sort of generic. She wants the cliché things everyone wants. Treat her to a good meal, gift her nice jewelry and maybe bring some flowers, chocolates and possibly stuffed animals, and she's a happy woman. But at the same time, Paige can be romantic and would love to be completely swept off her feet in some way. If her partner, whether it be Spinner, Alex, or someone else (and I lean towards it being someone else) surprised her with something totally unique yet sweet, she'd be very happy.

[throughthevalleyy]

in mine (e.w. x r)

a/n: so i wrote this a couple weeks ago at almost 3am so not my best work lmao. r’s details aren’t described but they do sit in ellie’s lap + they have a southern accent bc i said so<3 inspired by the song "UNIVERSE" by Kelsea Ballerini bc it was stuck in my head. takes place in the canon world but ignoring joel's death and ellie & dina's relationship.

pairing(s): ellie williams x reader

warning(s): mentions of death, killing, animal death (nothing explicit), and what's mentioned in the a/n

Ellie has always loved the stars. As a kid she dreamed of the endless possibilities - worlds of hope and love and societies where there were no man-eating monsters and children had mothers to go home to. As an adult, she knows it was all just a weak attempt at comforting herself, a delusion hiding her own fears underneath.

Though she never resented the stars for her desperate attempt at self-consoling, it only made her long for them more. To reach the stars, to touch the moon, grasp a space rock. To hold something so beautiful and unburdened by humans and deadly fungus alike, something so delicate and rare. What else could she ever want more than that?

She thought the answer was nothing, that it’d always be nothing, until she met you. The mysterious traveler who didn’t speak much, only ever talking to Maria and Tommy, and only when absolutely necessary. Ellie might’ve seen you smile at Joel once, but it could’ve been a trick of the late August sunlight.

Others were wary of your arrival to Jackson. They questioned a kid - a seventeen year old with nothing but a knife, a handgun, a few spare rounds, and the clothes on their back - traveling through the ravenous countryside of the South alone all the way to Wyoming. All she saw was a badass like her, just as lost and looking for something to guide them to safety.

It took a few weeks for her to even find out your name, though at that point she already started calling you by the different constellations in her head - the wonder of images only seen when the stars aligned right kept living through stories that have been passed through to ages, to the wonder of a person they all knew nothing about. There was some poetic shit in there but she could never really figure out how to say it.

She’s called you Little Dipper, Ursa Minor, Small Bear for the boy put in the stars to be protected by his father, only for her to realize she knows nothing about you or your parents to make any assumptions like that.

Ellie tried Cassiopeia, for the queen known for her beauty, only you’ve never flaunted your own like she did.

The Zodiac signs felt a bit cheap, especially when Joel explained how everyone had one and they were all predetermined by one’s birth.

Orion and Canis Major felt wrong because you, again, were never one to flaunt about anything, especially killing animals. In fact, the one thing about you she did know was that the first thing you said upon arriving in Jackson was some sort of apology for killing an animal on the way there. Apparently no one had even had the heart to tell you that it was the very least of their worries.

She went through as many books as she could to find the perfect name, all for a person she even didn’t know. She spent her days reading and her nights drawing whatever she read about until finally she settled on-

“Argo, hey.” Short for Argo Navis, the collection of three constellations representing the ship sailed by Jason and the Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece. Your story didn’t exactly fit Jason’s, but Ellie figured it had a nice enough ring to it. Plus, you’ve gotten quite used to it.

“Hey, Els. Joel said you were here so I thought…” You trail off after that. Ellie smiles, watching the way your hands find their way into your - her - hoodie’s pocket.

“C’mon in, babe,” she says after a moment. Your smile brightens and she thinks it could rival Venus at sunset. You walk over to where she’s sat on her bed, guitar left forgotten on the chair next to her. 

When you get to her, Ellie pulls you into her lap, smiling at the airy squeal that leaves your lips. “What’re you workin’ on?” you ask softly once you’re settled. She smiles yet again at the way your accent comes out, the way you rub your eyes and lean your head on her shoulder.

“Joel made some sheet music for a couple songs,” she answers. You nod, head moving closer to her neck as she talks.

“Play it for me?” you request. Ellie sighs, kissing your forehead.

“Fine, but I can’t promise it’ll be any good.” Gently, she moves you off of her so she can grab her guitar. Your head instantly moves to her thigh, and she doesn’t complain as she adjusts the tuning. She’s used to you cuddling up to her as she plays.

“Alright,” she whispers. “Apparently this one came out like a month before Outbreak Day, so it’s a little rough.”

The song is slow and sweet, a perfect explanation of the love Ellie holds for you, the impossible love she never thought was in the cards for her. She looks down as she finishes the final chords to find you fast asleep. As she puts her guitar away and settles in for the night, pulling you up to the pillows with her, she thanks her lucky stars for you, her universe.

•••

a/n 2: originally the song ellie sings was gonna be "Mean to Me" by Brett Eldredge but then ig i decided against it? lmao i just remember researching its release and then not wanting to figure out the logistics of tlou's timeline

[rosietrace]

∅ for Gwen and Roya😈

And also perhaps ∅ for Ellis and Yuuta too

I technically already did one for our beloved RoyWen, so I'll be doing SumerEllis(platonic ship name) for this one!

Oc thoughts: Sumeragi Yuuta on Ellis Clawthorne

Character Featured: Sumeragi Yuuta

Mentioned: Ellis Clawthorne(@starry-night-rose)

Warning(s): Yuuta being Yuuta /j , potentially ooc

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

♝•°•═════ஓ๑「❀」๑ஓ═════•°•♝

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱「❀」⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤† Sumeragi Yuuta, the golden rule

“Ellis? Hah, endearing, is she not? She gets on my nerves at times, and frankly, it's hard to understand her given that English isn't my first language, but holy hell can she be entertaining…”

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱「❀」⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

➜ There was a language barrier keeping the two from interacting at first.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Now, let's be clear; Yuuta's technically fluent in English. Or at least, as fluent as the average Japanese person can be in English

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ When he first arrived in Twisted Wonderland, he had to adjust a little to the language, and it only worsened when he realized his new ‘roommate’ was someone from an all-English-speaking country

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ So it's safe to say that during those first number of weeks, Yuuta and Ellis barely talked — if at all. Ellis tried to strike up a conversation, but Yuuta didn't know how to properly respond because of how fast and overly casual she sounded (which was a contrast to how formal the English he learned was)

➜ Yuuta actually broadened his skills in English, not only to make it easier to communicate with his ‘classmates’, — but in the case of Ellis — to also properly talk with her without taking like- twenty to thirty minutes to conjure up a response.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ It was a rough start. Ellis appreciated that Yuuta was willing to learn English a little more for convenience's sake, but she couldn't help but grimace because of how…. Obvious, it was that he was learning from a textbook

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ So what did she do? The only natural response was to just help him out, of course!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ From there, the two of them learned a lot more about each other! That Ellis liked artists like ABBA, Yuuta having quite the penchant for money, the fact that they're both okay with expressing themselves through fashion, etc.!

➜ Ellis learned the ‘easy way’ to never interrupt Yuuta while he's in the botanical garden.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ It's practically common knowledge in NRC that Yuuta and Azrail are batshit terrifying when you piss them off — especially when you interrupt them while they're doing their plant shit

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Ellis, however, didn't know that. She had to learn it from Ace and Deuce, who had already experienced what it was like to interrupt Yuuta during his ‘plant hours’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Confused as she might've been, she went along with it! And low-key finds it funny that anyone who interrupts him becomes a shell of their former self right after

➜ Ellis utterly refuses to talk to Yuuta about his life before coming to this world.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ From the way Yuuta looked when Ellis described her life before coming to Twisted Wonderland, she knew that something must've gotten Yuuta to feel bitter about his life before ‘transmigrating’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ The only natural approach she had was to just…. Not talk about it at all

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ She didn't want to make Yuuta uncomfortable, especially since they were technically roommates — so she made sure to try not to talk about life before Twisted Wonderland unless Yuuta felt comfortable enough to do so!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Yuuta greatly appreciates this sentiment but doesn't really want to show it. To him, Ellis was a breath of fresh air after what he had to go through before coming here

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ And he's pretty damn grateful that he has a friend like her among his support system!

➜ ……. He just wishes he could've apologized to her before coming. He figured that she and Ellis would've gotten along, had she transmigrated too.

♝•°•═════ஓ๑「❀」๑ஓ═════•°•♝

[faebanes]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .   the  continent  welcomes  CATRIN  RAGIEL  of  THE  MORTAL  LANDS,  the  SEAMSTRESS  of  THE  WINTER  COURT.   when  the  CAULDRON  MADE  HIGH  FAE  is  glamoured,  she  bears  a  resemblance  to  SOPHIE  SKELTON.   the  26  /  29  year  old  CIS  WOMAN  is  reputed  to  be  CHARMING  and  ASTUTE,  but  a  decade  of  war  has  left  them  IMPATIENT  and  MEDDLESOME.   if  created  by  the  cauldron,  they  would  be  made  in  the  likeness  of  RED  LOCKS  IN  LOOSE  BRAIDS,  SPENDING  HOURS  PERFECTING  THE  PERFECT  DESIGN,  AND  WALKING  ALONG  THE  RIVERS  EDGE  ON  A  CLEAR  NIGHT.   whispers  throughout  prythian  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HERSELF,   where  they  conspire  to  ADJUST  TO  BECOMING  A  FAE  AND  HANDLE  THE  WORLD  SHE  NOW  LIVES  IN.

BASICS .

full  name.   catrin  ragiel  .

nicknames.   cat  . 

age.   twenty  six   /   twenty  nine  . 

hometown.   bharat,   the  mortal  lands,   the  continent  . 

current  location.   under  the  mountain  .

status.   unmated  . 

occupation.   seamstress  for  the  ruling  family  of  the  winter  court  .

gender.   cis  woman   /   she  +  her  .

orientation.   bisexual,   biromantic  . 

parents.   owain  ragiel   (   father  ,   deceased   )   &   mairwen  ragiel   (   mother  ,   deceased   )  .

siblings.   utp  ragiel   (   younger  sibling  ,   wc   )  . 

pets.   unofficially  a  fox  that  used  to  hang  around  the  entrances  to  the  palace  that  she  was  too  sweet  on  for  her  own  good  and  now  curls  up  at  the  end  of  her  bed  . 

languages  spoken.   the  common  tongue . 

allegiance.   herself,  the  winter  court  in  theory  .

APPEARANCE .

hair  color.   red  . 

eye  color.   green  . 

height.   5  feet  5  inches   /   165  cm  . 

scars.   faint  rings  around  her  wrists  and  ankles  from  ash  -  shackles  in  the  early  days  after  she  emerged  from  the  cauldron  . 

style.   fur  -  line  dresses  often  in  white  or  deep  blue,   preference  for  self  -  designed  outfits  that  she  has  added  small  details  to  ;   wears  more  tight  -  fitting  attire  but  often  hidden  beneath  warmer  layers  ;   still  includes  inherently  human  attire,   specifically  thick  sweaters  she  tugs  down  over  her  hands  .

MISCELLANEOUS .

alignment.   neutral  good  . 

strengths.   charming,   astute,   detail  -  oriented  .   

weaknesses.   impatient,   meddlesome,   guarded  . 

aesthetic.   red  locks  worn  in  loose  braids,   spending  hours  perfecting  the  ideal  design,   walking  along  the  rivers  edge  on  a  clear  night,   a  dusting  of  snowflakes  in  ones  eyelashes,   a  yearning  for  a  life  long  left  behind  and  one  that  could  never  be  returned  to  . 

media  inspiration.   america  singer   (   the  selection   ),   alice  cullen   (   twilight   ),   eloise  bridgerton   (   bridgerton   ),   ellie   (   the  last  of  us   ),   donna  noble   (   doctor  who   )  .

BIOGRAPHY .

trigger  warning  for   :   parent  death,  ptsd,  kidnapping  (  mentioned  /  implied  ),  torture  (  non  -  descript  ),  war  mentions,  general  just  ...  trauma  .

you  are  the  firstborn  of  only  two,  barely  any  time  passing  between  you  and  your  younger  sibling,  but  both  doted  on  by  parents  all  the  same.  you  spend  much  of  your  early  years  in  the  streets  of  bharat,  your  parent’s  home,  developing  a  love  for  rich  spices  and  fine  cloths  and  remaining  ignorant  to  the  suffering  in  the  black  lands.

your  mother  is  a  seamstress,  selling  wares  to  travelers  and  mending  clothes  for  the  locals,  and  you  linger  at  her  elbow  watching  in  wide  -  eyed  wonder.  you  hold  your  first  sewing  needle  with  the  reverence  of  a  man  taking  to  his  knees  in  prayer,  and  you  don’t  look  back.

you  are  twelve  when  parents  put  your  family  on  a  ship  to  the  mortal  lands  just  south  of  prythian,  settling  in  a  coastal  town  just  south  of  the  spring  court.  the  fae  are  stories  of  warning  meant  to  deter  you  and  your  sibling  from  venturing  too  far  down  the  coast  to  the  looming  forest’s  edge.  it  works,  and  you  do  not  ask  questions.

your  father  supervises  your  educations,  and  mother  teaches  you  a  trade  that  you  will  carry  with  you  for  the  rest  of  your  life,  and  life  goes  on.  you’re  barely  into  adulthood  when  the  war  begins,  and  it  is  your  first  taste  of  the  horrible  things  you’ve  only  ever  heard  stories  of.

sheltered  childhood  only  serves  to  hurt  you  as  the  years  passed,  no  trained  fighter  and  fearing  the  war  that  ravaged  the  lands  you’d  come  to  call  home.  you  were  certain  your  home,  your  family,  could  make  it  out  unscathed,  but  fire  soon  spread  through  the  seaside  town.  in  the  markets  when  the  attack  began,  you  had  rushed  home  to  find  it  ablaze,  the  screams  of  your  parents  inside.

it  haunts  you  still,  and  with  no  time  to  find  where  your  sibling  might’ve  gone,  alive  or  in  danger,  you  seek  out  the  one  place  you  were  warned  not  to  go,  straight  into  the  faerie  lands.

you  spend  some  time  seeking  refuge  in  the  spring  and  summer  courts,  enough  to  know  that  there  were  some  fae  that  did  not  hold  the  views  of  hybern,  or  the  queen,  some  that  showed  kindness  and  compassion  for  all  that  was  lost,  and  all  that  was  still  to  lose.

but  one  unfortunately  interaction  led  you  into  the  hands  of  the  king  of  hybern,  a  mortal  plaything  locked  up  and  treated  as  little  more  than  test  subject  for  his  nefarious  deeds.  put  on  display,  meant  to  act  as  dutiful  servant,  and  yet  the  king  of  hybern  still  saw  a  spark  in  you,  as  fiery  as  your  hair,  that  kept  you  alive  just  that  little  longer.

with  the  cauldron  in  his  grasp,  and  no  shortage  of  potential,  the  king  knew  what  he  was  doing  when  he  dragged  you,  kicking  and  screaming,  into  it.  he  was  showing  the  world  what  power  lay  in  his  hands,  what  he  could  do  to  defiant  and  obedient  mortals  alike.

when  you  emerged  from  those  murky  depths,  you  were  not  the  same  as  when  you  entered  it;  ears  pointed  where  smooth  curve  had  once  been,  limbs  foreign  and  difficult  to  adjust  too  —  like  small  child  still  learning  to  carry  themselves,  and  as  familiar  as  you  were  unrecognizable  when  you  first  saw  yourself  again.  

but  the  memories  of  your  time  in  the  cauldron,  that  short  eternity,  and  the  human  nightmares,  oh  how  they  lingered  still.  and  how  they  lingered  even  when  rescue  came  in  the  form  of  a  fleet  of  summer  court  ships,  or  sanctuary  was  found  within  dawn  courts  borders.

it  took  months  to  gather  any  sense  of  bearings,  and  more  months  still  to  even  considering  returning  to  the  things  you’d  once  enjoyed  doing.  but  you  found  that  busying  your  hands  stilled  the  turmoil  in  your  mind,  and  mending  armor  and  dressing  the  members  of  the  dawn  court  became  more  necessity  than  joy.

you  spend  another  almost  two  years  in  the  dawn  court,  labeled  an  oddity  and  studied  endlessly,  not  even  you  could  understand  what  of  the  cauldron’s  powers  had  turned  you  fae.  nor  did  you  want  to,  cursing  the  very  thing  that  took  away  your  mortality  and  thrust  you  into  a  life  where  you  would  never  quite  fit  in.  feared  by  mortals,  disregarded  by  fae.  

and  when  the  offer  came  to  join  the  winter  court  as  the  royal  seamstress,  you  were  eager  to  oblige,  and  you’ve  been  content  to  remain  amidst  the  snow  and  furs  until  the  time  came  to  venture  to  the  mountain.

TLDR .

human  seamstress  made  high  fae  via  the  cauldron  after  being  forced  to  watch  her  parents  die  and  having  to  flee  into  the  faerie  lands  in  search  of  respite,  only  to  be  captured  and  tortured  by  the  king  of  hybern.  was  eventually  able  to  seek  refuge  in  dawn  court,  though  it  took  her  about  a  year  to  well  and  truly  recover,  now  she  works  for  the  winter  court  and  just  pours  herself  into  her  work  to  take  her  mind  off  of  the  trauma  that  haunts  her  still.  has  a  sibling  that  is  still  alive  but  she  has  spent  about  the  last  5-6  years  thinking  was  dead  and  doesn’t  know  any  different  so,  you  know.

[adarede]

wikipedia pages i have looked at recently

(since my browser history cuts off after 3 months)

feudalism

sark

guernsey

jersey

sercquiais

LGBT slang

list of pejorative terms for people

micronation

miso

declaration of war

sophie ellis-bextor

strictly come dancing (series 11)

the weather girls

it's raining men

leg shaving

craig charles

radclyffe hall

cicely mary barker

apennine mountains

gypsy horse

list of crossings of the atlantic ocean

titanic

scullery

dutch elm disease

pince nez

boston marriage

lutheranism

monocle

howards end

list of countries and dependencies by population

academic ranks in the united kingdom

mafia

bad bunny

amber alert

hue and cry

charabanc

list of feminists

skibidi toilet

dj snake

milan kundera

christmas market

darcey bussell

self esteem (musician)

roger eno

squeegee man

crossing sweeper

ramen

housewife

stay-at-home parent

Sally Clark

SIDS

Rabies

catacombs of paris

beaufort scale

religiosity and intelligence

korean variety show

variety show

osbournes reloaded

pine barrens

environment of united states

a walk in the woods (book)

terminal velocity

muzzle velocity

dehumidifier

withnail and i

vivian mackerrell

bruce robinson

2017-18 australian parliamentary eligibility crisis

orlando: a biography

medically unexplained physical symptoms

gulf war syndrome

list of paradoxes

opposite day

cascadia (bioregion)

appalachia

beano (dietary supplement)

idaho

ghost rockets

list of billboard hot 100 number one singles of the 2010s

list of uk singles chart number ones of the 2010s

list of most viewed youtube videos

cardiac tamponade

the spook light

will o' the wisp

atmospheric ghost lights

ball lightening

brown mountain lights

st elmo's fire

poltergeist

shadow person

estimates of historical world population

chin

dan and phil

east west rail

african cuisine

ornimegalonyx

marital rape

bras d'honneur

list of songs by taylor swift

dwarf elephant

bone china

ivory

wrangel island

mammoth

african elephant

last glacial maximum

ground sloth

3D film

nigella lawson

prehistory of australia

mastodon

paleoloxodon

borneo elephant

straight tusked elephant

hyrax

north african elephant

zoetrope

O holy night

containerization

shakira

list of antidepressants

list of poker hands

victoria coren mitchell

bikini

evergreen A-class container ship

i had a little nut tree

gunge

houses in multiple occupation

pedestrian crossings in the united kingdom

belisha beacon

coca-cola formula

demographics of south america

wasabi

flashed face distortion effect

aella (influencer)

temperate rainforest

caledonian forest

loch lomond

bigfoot

jedi census phenomenon

timeline of meteorology

centralia, pennsylvania

jersey devil

ozarks

crawler

blue hole (new jersey)

quantum suicide and immortality

the hum

skyquake

tubal ligation

glycerol

air source heat pump

list of current knights and ladies of the garter

list of prime ministers of the united kingdom

CP Snow

calabash

gourd

apocolocyntosis

[orleans-jester]

“Modernist,” Frank spat, rolling his eyes. “Shock value.” And then after another few seconds of deliberating - “The Oogie kind.”

Intricate. Delicate. So the boy had some language skills after all, even if he seemed to be a complete dunce in decorum. Him and many of the other uninvited guests today. He took those peeks through Silas’s mind, pulling things open like it was a photo album and he wanted to stop and look at some of the pictures. He was getting much better at that. Scouring through to find what he wanted to find. Insane body modifications. Living art.

Well - their own castle could use some art, he supposed. He wasn’t going to let Silas know that quite yet though. He didn’t want him to get too big of an ego, to think that Frank was actually coming up with ideas to combine their expertise together.

“Something like that,” Frank said, lowly, a slight nod of his head. The aesthetics of torture, done together by a man in tight fitting leather, and another in a clown suit. It seemed almost poetic.

And then he was left behind, like a book. Something to be picked up at a later date when he felt like it. Being hung was just the bookmark, a reminder of who Silas was, what he was doing here, not that Frank was likely to forget. It was all just a bit of his own kind of fun. Delta had her trapdoor. Frank had his hooks.

Silas’s cries were ignored, up until the doors closed. Then he would be met with the echoes of them bouncing back. Just for peace of mind, the tower was soundproofed, they didn’t need their Hunch to hear the sobs and think that it was some sort of auditory hallucination. No, it would be Silas alone, with no one to hear him except for his own self, bouncing right back.

He didn’t have to use his powers to search out her mind and find where she was. He just knew. Like how they always seemed to know, since the day that she had first carved into his flesh, and he had touched it, touched it and known where she was in Oogie’s former home. It might have initially been burned off of him, but when she carved it again, the magic seemed more potent. They had that connection. Sinewy strings of muscle rather than string connecting them. Her talon. His skin.

He stood tall, a large hand on her back, fingers stroking through the material of her attire for the night, black nails digging through to find the skin beneath for further contact. He squinted as he looked out at the ship. He could only get the loud thoughts. The ones that were most prevalent from afar, not any details.

“An island - circus?” He said, his head tilted. He was passing on the fleeting images that Ellie and Babyface were thinking of, the circus, the faces of their friends. “If that’s really there - could be something to look into.”

Especially when they would figure that Oogie apparently had a stake in it, but was unable to do anything due to Feral being under Delta’s control, and no way to cross over without slipping through enemy territory.

--

Figaro was seeing this Theme Song Guy putting together a band with Lancey, and they were ready to volunteer Willem to be a part of it too, the blood of the band, so to speak. Figaro’s favourite musician? Willem. Who would Figaro fangirl over? Willem - and Valerie and Flotsam, those pipes were undeniable. But obviously they wouldn’t try to fight Willem leaving if that’s what he wanted to do, free will was a big thing in Feral, they’d even offer the keys to the bus if he really wanted, but every thought went down the drain when they saw that lined face.

Figaro was fuckin’ crying. A rare sight to see. They were very much hide behind eccentricity, behind stupid jokes, and focus on the forward because something funny is bound to come along sometime. Their mourning was private. They cried for their friends and family before they had been brought to New Zealand in safety while the curse was spreading around the place once called New Orleans. No sense making anyone else upset about it. They’d have a wisecrack to try to cheer people up.

Gepetto nodded proudly towards Willem when he heard about dolls. If there was one person in this world who might understand Willem’s want of going to take care of that, of finding attachment with those little non-alive things rather than the ghosts that were surrounding him now, it was ol’ Gepetto. His eyes were clearer now than they used to be, like he was more in his wits. Like he had been before he met Willem, his ‘best’ self, dressed in the same fly suit that he had worn to the first houseparty those two threw together.

“You’ve been doing well, I’ve been checking in,” Gepetto said, his hand heavy on Willem’s shoulder, real weight there. A physical indicator that he was listening and he was watching Willem’s passion grow more by the second with all of the fast words that he had been saying. He wasn’t here to talk, to make a special appearance, to stir anything up. He was here to watch and to listen, much like his dolls. “I’m proud to say that the student will soon pass the teacher.”

He let out a chuckle, the wrinkles in his face moving as he let out a smile, showing off the fake teeth within his mouth. The straight smile. “It is a good sweater, isn’t it?”

So how was Figaro just standing there like a normal person. Shock. “I - am - shooketh -” They said, finally raising a hand to try to get to the tears that were freely falling, embarrassed to be crying like that in front of their father, in front of their person. Hell, in front of everyone, not that most people were paying attention anymore, not with TSG getting in the groove and the others joining.

“SHOOKETH!” They repeated, before bouncing over - jumping up and down as if their feet were too excited to actually stay on the ground, and wrapped their arms around two of the best people that they had ever known. “I’m also totally not crying by the way, my eyeballs are sweating cause it’s so damn hot in here.”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

“I leave on Spongebob for you when I see that it’s on - and Hansel watches it sometimes, he’s been coming out of the walls more, you’d be so proud of him, and Diana doesn’t even burn herself when she cooks now, even though we tell her that she never has to, but whoever you based her on must have loved to cook because damn, she’s always making up something, spent a fortune on groceries. And Mr Punch is still Mr Punch, he actually took a big chunk out of my ankle the other day, it’s kinda shaped like Bon Jovi, wanna see?” They ranted, until Gepetto chuckled again and playfully put his hand over their mouth.

“That’s okay, my Figaro,” Gepetto said, wrapping his arms around the two as well. “I know everyone is doing their best at being themselves. I’m proud of you all.”

Delta was projecting. She was judging herself for giving a shit at all when logic told her she shouldn't. Frank was right. Thus was the burden of family. At least she had a partner who could follow whether he was in alignment or not. She needed understanding on this one while she wasn't understanding herself.

Delta did enjoy that tower the weasel made. It came in handy. It became one of her favorite rooms. Frank seemed so himself there. She liked that. So free.

Silas tilted his head like a curious dog at the word Splatterpunk. "Am I supposed to know what that is? Sounds festive."

But what kind of art did he usually make? "The intricate kind. Delicate."

Those were his words, but his thoughts would flash visions of pieces of his own work inspired by his father. Moments of his surgeon father teaching him anatomy in the most sterile of environments, IV's dripping, monitors beeping, large blue prints on a table of the stages of procedures to fully form insane body modifications that no state would ever approve. Implants, disfurments, to full amputations and reattachements elsewhere, inside organs made to be visible on the outside of the body, and still manage to sustain life. Chernabog and his son kept these people on display like living surreal art in their home or as long as they survived until the next art installation. They'd be integrated into backgrounds and other sculptures to create whole scenes. It was for VIP eyes only. This was why Delta said to not mess up his surgical hands. It was her only request. She didn't know for sure of Silas's work, but she knew her Uncle Jenner's.

"Surrealism with corpses. I like the sound of that." He imagined Frank had fine tastes by first impression. He was also taking it quite literally. He wasn't picturing paintings.

A team. "Oh, I see." Silas couldn't help but see that image and parallel it to his life. "Like when father and I callaborate."

Silas put up some fuss when he realized he was going to be left alone, far more about being alone than being hung. He was treating that act like a game. The body bag however was a nice touch. He couldn't help but ask, "This isn't one of those Walmart body bags is it? You spring for the good stuff right? And what it with the hideous yellow of Walmart's bags? Are they trying to ruin great art?" Clearly Silas had been affected by Walmart body bags in the past. "I really should have known buying body bags from Walmart was a bad idea. Coffins however, pretty good deals."

He respected the team concept. He mostly just didn't want to be left alone. Frank would get the sound of his prisoner's screams till the moment he was far enough away because Silas thought something was going to happen now. He'd also spent so much time alone in the forests. He was enjoying the company for a change. He wanted to hear more about exquisite corpses.

"Come on! You can't just drop that and walk away! Come back!" He'd yell, but Frank did not come back. "Tell me more! Please! Don't leave me alone after that! Come on man!"

Frank went to find Delta. Delta had been watching the party, getting updates from her fae, and watching the ones that left from the rooftop. That's where where Frank would eventually find her. She had watched King Triton's ship be sailed away by Babyface and Ellie.

It was difficult to settle all her thoughts on Silas and Chernabog with so much going on, but no one promised that guy she was getting back to him tonight. She'd get back to him in her own damn due time. The moment she saw Frank she walked out to the roof to greet him. It would always be her favorite spot in the castle. The place he jumped after her was the most romantic space in all of Heaven, Hell, and Earth. No matter how many times she runs to Christmas Town to get away from things this spot is better. Hell only wins because it's a place he risked going when he jumped and they owned that damn place, but that jump zone was the unknown. All he knew was going after her no matter the consequences. She could sit on the edge of that roof and feel the wind in her hair for hours and feel complete peace. So that's where she wanted to be.

Seeing his image in this space while she was feeling unsettled inside was needed. She was still dressed to the nines for the party, holding the trident/staff. She went up to him and held him around the middle which only landed mid belly due to height differences. Her whole person was practually the length of one of his legs. Then she looked out at the white water trail the ship was leaving behind and pointed at it with her tri-staff. "Can you sense them that far? Where do they think they're going?" Delta, an actual fisherman's daughter, unlike the two who rushed out to seas's first thought wasn't about the theivery, "I haven't fueled those ships up since we lived here."

"Fools."

Maybe she got a few things from her mother after all.

-

Willem really thought Figaro would give a silly send off of some sort for a polite you do you type of thing. He did, he saw all the fun and all the ghost friends he could be mingling with. But, everyone's return didn't have the same effect on him it had on the others. He didn't have the same attachments. If he would have seen Medusa's daughter/ward, maybe. But, she was hardly going to show up to this castle if she walked the earth tonight. She'd go visit her mother. If Taryn was walking around Feral it was probably in her old trailer park, certainly not this castle where everyone hated her. His mother maybe? Why in the world would Tinker Bell be in this castle even if did come back for a night? Old ship mates he'd seen walk the plank? Nah. They wouldn't come here. In his mind there wasn't a soul he cared for that would come to this castle. Seeing everyone else reunite put him in a weird head space. Of course he'd long for the one thing left he could reach from his past with any emotional attachment with Livvy's dolls.

Then low and behold. Blow him down. Shiver his damn timbers.

He saw Geppetto and sank to his knees. His hands covered his face. He was smiling. He was laughing. He was crying. It would take a minute for Willem to compose on that one, but it was finally someone that evoked a serious emotional response out of him. He managed to stand up and his face started to glow in ways it hadn't since his apprenticeship days. Master and pupil back together again.

"Sir!" He ran up. "I'm not going anywhere. Not yet. Not now. But I will take care of those dolls later on." After Geppetto. Yeah. After Geppetto. Then he started rambling like the student he always was only over excited to fit way too much in after too much time past. "I made my own dolls since you were gone all by myself. I have a client with a whole family of dolls that trusts me. I've been keeping your orders filled. I've respectfully informed all your clientele when an order has come in that I'm here in your stead. Several have trusted me to complete their orders. There's some that are so used to you they haven't decided yet. I always tell them that's understandable. You were the best, but I was taught by the best and I can only hope to live up to their expectations."

He spoke so fast and it was a lot at once. He had been trying so hard. His heart was rapid fire.

"I love your sweater. I wear it all the time. Figaro lets me wear it."

Once he got all that out he finally let out a normal breath. "I miss you. Hansel misses you."

Then he looked at Figaro. "How are you standing there right now like a normal person? I can barely function over this."