#when i'm home i will link back to the original post

[lattesqueeze]

For the Pinterest prompts!! Can we get ambient, any ship??

My love! Hello! Yes! Of course you can!

Please accept a little peek into a sweet Sebchal moment. For when you wake up 💛💛💛

Sebastian is different, now he’s retired from racing. He’s softened, mellowed. Hell, enough of his old friends have teased that it’s just age. 

He sits, now, in an overstuffed armchair before a slightly sticky table. It’s dark outside, the cobbled streets flooded with the warm amber glow of the streetlights. Soft but persistent rain patters against the full-length window, and the glass steams up with opaque mist. The coffee shop is quiet enough, a soft babble filling the open space. 

The late hour and the cosy ambience of the cafe lends itself to introspection. Indeed, the removal of stress from his life had allowed Sebastian to relax into himself somewhat. Having been so young when he entered the cut-throat, hyper-competitive bubble of Formula One, he had sometimes felt he had missed out on some of the finer points of socialisation, leaning instead into the ‘win at all costs’ mindset he became known for in his younger years. 

It’s nice, now, to wake up when he chooses, and to run for the feeling of freedom it provides, rather than to break his own personal cardiovascular health records. 

Yes, it’s true that Sebastian’s retirement has seen him become calmer. However, it’s not so much the slower pace of life that has lulled him. It’s definitely more thanks to the sunshine-soft influence of the one he loves. Time is finally on their side, and at last it feels like they have all the time in the world.

There’s a gentle tinkle as the door opens. A slim brunet man makes his way straight to the counter, and orders in a hushed tone that Sebastian can’t quite hear. It doesn’t matter - he always gets it right anyway. He’s wearing a black hoodie over faded jeans, and thick-rimmed glasses. He looks so soft, and Sebastian envisions him curled into his lap on his sofa. 

Charles has been away, racing, and they haven’t seen each other for some time, and phone calls just aren’t the same. Sebastian doesn’t let his mind wander further, waiting for Charles to take the lead with what he wants. 

They never say it in as many words, but it’s there. Sebastian is the first to tell Charles he’s done a good job. Charles always orders Sebastian’s tea with honey in it, just how he likes it. They text each other first when they reach their respective destinations. They know they love each other. And everyone else who cares to know also knows. They don’t have to keep secrets any more.

Charles slides into the armchair opposite Sebastian, placing two steaming mugs on the table. 

“You’re here.” He says with a shy smile. 

“Aren’t I always?”

[skittikyu]

my late contribution to @/sm-baby's 30k open collab image

[cvnntagious]

˗ˏˋ pornstar!chris films with someone new ‧₊˚

꒰part two ✩꒱ (coming soon)

creeping into chris' condo as quiet as possible with a wrapped gift in hand, a large smile took up most of your face at the thought of him opening it. though, the more you explored the area, the more discouraged you got before eventually giving up with a loud sigh at the realization that he wasn't home. but then, where was he? he always told you when he was going to be out, but today? he didn't even so much as leave you a text.

if not for chris updating you on his whereabouts becoming routine, you truthfully would've thought nothing of his sudden absence, but with a confused look on your face, you found yourself setting his christmas present on the coffee table in front of you to plop down onto his couch. you slipped your phone out of your back pocket, instantly typing away at it.

it was simple and straight to the point, leaving no room for confusion; you'd never been the type to beat around the bush. you weren't upset, really—more like confused, is all. and you waited. sitting idly on his couch as you waited for that little 'delivered' alert to turn into 'read'.

it didn't.

not for a while, at least. you ended up leaving his house only about half an hour after you sent the message, seeing no reason in just sitting there overthinking it. but you still did. going on about your day, trying to distract yourself from that nagging voice in the back of your brain that whispered 'where's chris at? what's he doing?' and 'you're not special. he got bored of you, silly,' at any moment you weren't occupying your mind with something else.

you knew you were probably overreacting; being dramatic in a way chris wouldn't like if he could hear your thoughts. i mean, it's not even like you'd be that upset if he had gotten tired of you. he was only some good dick and a person to keep you company... every single day for the past month. shit, you needed to know. picking up your phone in a swift motion as you now sat on your own couch, having tried to watch a show as means to keep your mind off chris, you checked your notifications in hopes that you'd missed his text.

but something new caught your eye.

a notification from chris' twitter, far different than anything you'd imagined throughout the day. of course you clicked it, a small breath of relief coming from you as you'd immediately told yourself he must've been busy with his executives. oh, he was busy alright.

your eyebrows raised at the sight before you: a short clip of chris plowing into some blonde with big tits, her moaning and whining in such a forced way. he was grabbing and squeezing at them. i mean, shit, he wasn’t even a boobs guy. it was so unlike him, completely disregarding his original intent for his content—keep it authentic. the caption only contained the hub link, telling his fans to watch the full video there.

dread sounds about right. a look of dread spread across your face, as if you'd just witnessed your worst fear. except it wasn't your worst fear. at least you didn't think it was, until now.

without thinking, you found yourself in chris' messages again, seeing the 'delivered' alert still there like a taunt. it was a slap in the face, really. not even the fact that he'd went and filmed with someone else, but the way he'd so clearly purposely failed to give you any type of warning.

once you'd sent the message, seeing the little text below your blue message change to 'read' instantly, it all suddenly felt pointless — all the worrying throughout the day, the dread you felt when you watched the short clip chris posted, the hurt when you saw he ignored your message, and now, even the message you literally just sent to him.

w/c : 645

a/n : i'm gonna try to bust these out the best i can, but y'all might have to bare w me cs i'm proly the worlds slowest writer... this may overlap with the au calendar as well, so to be clear, this isn't my priority. if i have to postpone parts of this to keep up with the prompts, i will. that being said, hope you guys enjoy my first multi-part tumblr fic <3.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny love , i heard some great things about your bakery so i decided to come and try too , i would like a butter tart with a milkshake please oh and make it nice and sweet with lando norris (💗)

barkey menu!

if you want your own order! check out the original post and i can bake somethin' up for ya! thank you for those lovely request!! did you know that butter tarts are actually from the region of canada i'm from!

additional message from sender: Hey bunny love HELP you see the order that i’ve done i forgot to clarify that i need it in a best friend inexperienced reader x lando , SORRY AGAIN (💗)

butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, inexperienced!reader, size difference/kink, friends-to-lovers, missionary, romantic/mushy, gentle sex, marriage pact

you and lando had a deal. by the time you hit twenty-five you two would get married. the two of you had been lifelong friends and at the time thought that no one would actually want to date you two.

so the pact was made.

you had honestly forgotten about it years later. it was a pact you made when you were both dumb teenagers and lando's career as a racer hadn't taken off. by this point you had expected him to find some super hot model to date. not the best friend he's had for years!

until after you twenty-fifth birthday you received a text message.

it simply said, "will be home in a few days, where did you want to have our first date?" and before you could question him about what the hell he was talking about. you remembered his boyish smile when you linked pinkies with him.

lando was beyond relieved to see you. you picked him up from the airport and drove him back to your flat. you had laughed as you merged onto the highway.

"so a date, huh?"

"well, yeah. i mean i wasn't going to show up with a ring!" he laughed, "did you forget or something?" he almost seemed a little hurt.

"no, no." you said, "i just thought you would've found someone else by now! i mean you're surrounded by pretty girls all day."

he shrugged, "yeah, yeah. but none of them are you. i was honestly worried that you would've found someone too! i mean i can't date you if you're already with someone." he laughed once more.

being on a date with him was like hanging out with him in your youth. expect every time he wanted to kiss you, he asked. and when he kissed you. you felt a spark in your gut.

you were just at a local pub you had always gone to. there was no need for fancy first dates. eventually lando had his arm around you while you sat in the booth and the two of you watched the football game.

when you were teens you were especially into it. but over time he made you cheer for the team he cheered for. in exchange you forced him to like your favourite cheesy movie. (which he would admit now, wasn't that terrible!).

"I want to keep kissing you." he said honestly in your ear.

you picked up a fry and fed it to him. when he swallowed it, you turned to kiss him on the lips, "you don't have to ask me, norris. i've seen every mole on your ass."

he laughed and leaned in for another kiss. but before he did, he said, "i want to be a gentleman."

that sentiment lasted all the way to the bedroom. you had wished you had tidied up a little bit more of your bedroom, but you might have just been over thinking everything as you took off your t-shirt.

"lando... please be gentle, it's been like a million years since i last had sex." you admitted as you played with the t-shirt between your fingers nervously.

he looked at you with a curious glance, "who was the last person you slept with? when did this happen?" there was a small curl of jealousy in his gut.

you replied, "i mean like, not since the one, one-night stand i had in my first year of uni... since then it's been a dry spell."

he nodded, he understood. but part of him really wanted to be your first time. but hey, he had an entire lifetime to make up for it! he noticed how you gazed at him when he took his shirt off. "like what you see?"

you chuckled, "yes. you've always been handsome, lando. too handsome for me!"

he shook his head and took off his belt, "no. just handsome enough for you." then pulled down his shorts before he got into bed with you, pulling you down onto the floral printed covers next to him.

he looked nice in just a pair of black briefs. you couldn't believe this was really happening. to have your legs tangled up in his, his lips on yours. hands roaming each other's bodies.

it was something that would've made sixteen year old you blush.

"wait, wait.' he said, "give me a second." then got out of bed, he left the bedroom to go to the living room where all of his belongings still there. he came back with the shiny foil of a condom. he beamed at you, "have to play it safe." before he climbed back into bed with you.

he loved the sight of you. you were so pretty, ever since you two were younger. he always thought you were the prettiest girl at school, even if you didn't believe it. now, he'd just have to tell you every day how pretty you were.

he got his briefs off and the condom on before he put you on your back and got between your legs. he knelt between them with his cock at full attention. he admired the sight of you.

"i can't believe you kept true to your word." you chuckled and rubbed your face as if to wipe the blush off.

he smiled at you, "why wouldn't i? i made a promise." he leaned in towards you and kissed you on the cheek, "i was practically counting down the days. it was hard to keep it all inside, not when i was constantly thinking about you."

"i hate that i'm inexperienced."

"don't care. i have a whole life time to show learn everything with you." his voice was tinged with romance and you felt what you could only describe as love bloom in your chest.

you always had feelings for him, and see them returned made you only feel hot in the face. he kissed at those same cheeks and palmed your breasts.

"someone's into those." you chuckled.

"i always thought they were so pretty." he said almost breathless, "in those stupid dresses you wore in university. remember when i threw my hoodie over you, it was because i didn't want anyone else looking at you."

you remembered them, you were trying something new at the time. and those dresses really made you breasts noticeable. you chuckled, "god, i remember that. or that time you took off your rain jacket and zipped it up to my chin."

"i just thought you were so painfully pretty." he took his cock and rubbed it up against your wet pussy. he used to have dreams about it. he always wanted to sink himself into you and just fuck your sweet cunt.

you held onto the covers under you as you tensed for a moment in anticipation for lando's cock. you held you breath as he slowly sank in. you let out a sharp noise and lando eased your mind with kisses on your lips.

"that's it." he praised with sweetness on his tongue. he thought you looked so beautiful under him, like you always belonged there, "are you okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "yeah, i'm doing great. just... not used to it." you took a deep breath.

lando held onto you and said softly, "don't worry, i'll go gentle. don't want to hurt my wife on the first try."

you looked at him and chuckled, "and what if i'm not marriage material in a year?"

lando shook his head, "i don't wanna hear it." then sealed it with a kiss as he used your hips to rub your against his cock. the movements were small, but slowly building up in a decent peace. he wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt you.

you held his face and continued to kiss him. when he eventually pulled away, you were both soon panting. he rutted up into you and moved your hips at a similar pace. he loved that your expression was starting to change to one filled with pleasure.

he thought you were beautiful even then.

"i've thought about this for years. i always wondered what you'd look like under me, or on top, or anywhere really. i just dreamt about having you."

"you could've asked me out sooner, norris." you smiled at him. you felt a swell in your chest.

lando blushed a little and replied, "i couldn't find the words. but then when i remembered, i knew i had to jump at the chance to have you."

you wrapped your arms and legs around him and said, "well mister lando norris, you have me. now and forever."

he broke out into a grin, it was so cheesy. even though he had his cock inside of you. but he loved it. he loved you. he kissed you again before he started to thrust a little heavier.

the intimacy between you two was strong, but the actually movements were softer. lando's lips felt so nice against your neck and along your jaw. every kiss felt like worship.

his hands explored your sides, almost making you giggle loudly. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears from the pleasure in your veins.

the bed creaked under your movements. you felt the lust warm in your gut. you clutched onto his shoulders as he kept his steady pace. you panted heavily, "i'm close, fuck, lando. i'm close!"

"i know, i know. me too." he groaned as he moved. he was so big compared to you. and you felt so small, but in a good way. he was just perfect for you and you were for him.

you always felt protected by him.

you two kissed once more and you moaned into the kiss. he was panting through his nose as he pressed his cock into you as deep as it would go.

you tensed up around him and his cock twitched inside of you. and together you both came, pressed against on another as orgasm gripped you.

it felt so good.

you could get used to this. the movements slowed to a stop and you broke the kiss to catch your breath. you panted heavily as you tried to pull yourself together.

"so good." he laid on top of you for a moment, embracing your warmth below him. you wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his sweaty temple.

you both laid there. it felt nice. maybe you wouldn't mind keeping to the marriage pact you made when you were a teen. it wouldn't be bad to be married to your best friend.

he yawned before he moved off of you, "i gotta get you a nice ring. something as beautiful as you."

-

you didn't get married at twenty-five. it would take about three years before you had your special day.

his fingers interlocked with yours and he held them up towards the stream of morning light through the window. "you know." he said, "i used to write your name with my last name when we were kids."

you chuckled and looked to him, "the crush was that big."

he nodded, "yeah, i mean, you ruined all other girls for me. but i'm glad. let's ruin ourselves for anyone else anyway." he laughed before he threw an arm around you and kissed you deeply.

[pseudowho]

(MASTERLIST DISCONTINUED- PLEASE SEE PINNED POST ON MY BLOG FOR NEW RESTRUCTURED MASTERLIST!)

Pseudowho's Original JJK Masterlist

Scroll through to see...

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Suguru Geto

Choso Kamo

Aoi Todo

JJK multi-character fics

Nanami Kento Masterlist

Updated: 28th March 2024

REQUESTS CLOSED

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🔥 Smut 💔 Angst 💕 Romance

☕ Comfort/Fluff 🤡 Clowning

🐙 Monsterfucking. 📚 Education (*dirty laugh*)

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1st of December 🔥☕💕 -- No-Nut November is over-- but Nanami Kento won't let you get away with it that easily.

7:3 🤡 -- Nanami Kento never thought about his 7:3 pattern...a fourth wall breaking moment.

"Dad Reflexes" Ask and Drabble 🤡💕☕-- Nanami Kento can catch anything.

Daylight Robbery 💕☕🔥-- when Gojo asks Nanami to cuckold him and his fiancée, things don't go the way Gojo planned...

Debellatio 🔥💕-- a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma sex-pollen threesome.

Ditch the Party 🔥💕-- Nanami Kento hates parties. But the drinks? The drinks make him bold.

Domain Expansion theory-- Pseudowho's vision of Nanami Kento's domain expansion.

Edging Nanami Kento 🔥💕-- The reader drives Nanami Kento to the edge and back again.

Fire and Iron 💕☕🔥-- AU!Nanami Kento is the town blacksmith, and the reader is forced to stay the night after tending to his wounds.

Full 🔥☕💕-- Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.

Glory Glory 🔥☕💕-- "Help, I'm stuck!" on a mission with Kento, and he takes full advantage of the compromising position.

Good Boy 🔥💕-- after a bad day, you know exactly what Kento needs to help him relax...

Good Girl 💕🤡 -- a drabble

Grandpapamin ☕💕-- Nanami Kento as a grandfather, Headcanons.

Grey 🔥💔💕-- The reader lives a vigilante life; so does Nanami Kento, a changed man after the events of Shibuya. When she is sent to hunt him down, Nanami Kento has a proposition for her.

Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part One ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.

Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part Two ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.

Grey! Nanami Christmas ⛄🎄 Headcanons ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader Headcanons.

Hanahaki 💕☕💔-- being in love with you is killing Nanami Kento.

Hide and Seek 🔥-- Game night gets spicy.

"How well can you drive?" 🔥 -- the reader takes matters into her own mouth so Kento can prove his driving skills.

Infiltration (MULTI-CHAPTER) 🔥☕💔💕

(COMPLETE!) --the reader and Nanami Kento must pretend to be married, infiltrating a Curse-user cult to take it down from the inside.

Chapter One: Introduction

Chapter Two: Pillow Talk

Chapter Three: Deadly Games

Chapter Four: The Rumbling Shrine

Chapter Five: Breaking Point

Chapter Six: Exposed

Chapter Seven: The Captive Goddess

Chapter Eight: Unchained

In From the Cold ☕🔥💕-- The reader wanders in the snow, lost and injured after a mission gone wrong; will Nanami Kento save her?

Kento Comes Home Drunk 🔥💕-- and the reader handles his advances like a total champ.

And, its sequel... Reader Comes Home Drunk 🔥 💕-- where Kento manages the reader's advances like an absolute champ.

Knismolagnia 🔥💕-- Kento has a somewhat...erotic response to being tickled.

Last Moments 💔☕-- Nanami Kento remembers a childhood holiday.

Nanami Kento, and the Curses of an Unusual Nature (MULTI-CHAPTER) -- Nanami Kento is deemed the only Sorcerer sensible enough to handle some frankly weird Curses

- Chapter 1: Gone Shopping 🤡 -- locals are going missing at a large shopping centre; Nanami Kento is sent to investigate.

Nanami Kento's Massive Squeezable Man Tiddies 🔥☕-- the reader being casually obsessed with Kento's chest...repost link HERE!

Operation Babymaker (a new series!) 💕💔🔥☕ -- Nanami Kento takes trying for a baby very seriously indeed.

A Trip to the Tailors-- the reader reveals she's been off the pill for months, and Kento cannot contain himself.

Benchpress-- the reader interrupts Kento's workout, and is manhandled into submission.

Ditch the Party...again-- tipsy Kento is back, and deadlier than ever.

Wet Dreams-- Kento gives the reader a free-pass for when he's asleep...and he returns the favour

Raising You ☕💔💕-- When the reader is de-aged by a Curse, Nanami is forced to raise her like a daughter.

Red 🔥💔-- Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse-user, has been on the run for years...what will you do when he catches up to you?

Resolute ☕💔💕-- The reader helps Nanami to accept that he has a drinking problem.

Seasons of Grief 🔥💔💕☕ -- The reader supports Nanami Kento through the anniversary of Yuu Haibara's death, and afterwards, when Kento nearly loses the reader

Shirtsleeves 🔥 -- The reader steals Kento's last shirt, and receives her comeuppance.

Still Got It ☕💕-- The Nanami kids' parents are boring...right?

Stoic 💕🔥-- Kento is furious when Gojo assumes that his lack of PDA towards the reader shows a lack of desire.

The Accumulation of Little Despairs ☕💔💕 -- The reader struggles with low-mood; Nanami Kento comes to the rescue

The Chase 🔥💕-- The reader has insisted on No-Nut November; Nanami Kento gets his revenge by hunting her down and taking his reward.

Why I love Nanami Kento

Yet Another Sex Pollen Fic, PART ONE 🔥💕

And...PART TWO 🔥💕 -- the reader has a problem... and only Nanami Kento can help her scratch the itch.

Higuruma Hiromi Masterlist

Updated: 6th March 2024

REQUESTS CLOSED

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Calamus et Gladius (the pen and the sword) 🔥💕💔☕-- slow-burn, enemies to lovers Culling Game smut with Higuruma and a foreign reader

Daddy 🔥☕💕-- dating apps are a hazard for men like Higuruma Hiromi...

Debellatio 🔥💕-- a Higuruma x Reader x Nanami sex-pollen threesome

Fellatio 🔥-- the bathtub lawyer receives head in his office.

Fumus et Ignis 🔥💕-- sometimes, Hiromi smokes and ties you up while he makes you ride him.

Glory Glory 🔥☕-- 'Help, I'm Stuck!' with Hiromi, two bottles of wine and a compromising position with his gavel.

Hiromi and Nemo ☕-- tales of Higuruma Hiromi, and his little black cat.

Hiromi Higuruma Relationship Headcanons ☕🔥💕

In Flagrante Delicto 💔☕🔥💕-- Higuruma struggles to adapt to life as a sorcerer, refusing all of your offers to help...until he needs you.

"I've Committed a Crime" Ask and Drabble 🤡💕-- Higuruma is a ruthless tease

Jus in Bello: A Judicious Domain 💔🔥💕-- The reader throws Higuruma out of their home after they struggle to adapt to his new Cursed power...and the reader must then hunt him down in the Culling Game, to bring him home.

Men with Big Noses 🔥💕-- you reveal a kink for Higuruma's nose, and he shows you exactly what he can do with that.

Milk and Honey 💕🔥-- Hiromi is obsessed with your milk, and loves you while you sleep.

Office Besties ☕💕-- Hiromi and you are just friends...right?

Sanguis et Vinum 🔥💕-- period sex with Higuruma

Shower drabble ☕💕-- Higuruma comforts you after a bad day.

The Stairwell 🔥💕-- You've been teasing Higuruma all day at the office; he catches up to you, eventually.

Vinum Rubrum 🔥💕-- wine is better when you share a glass...and your mouths.

The Widow's Keeper ☕💔💕-- The reader and Higuruma traverse the complexities of love and grief, after the death of Nanami Kento, her first husband.

"Your Honour" Ask and Drabble 💕🤡🔥-- Hiromi forgets your name as he cums.

Suguru Geto Masterlist

Updated: 23rd February 2024

REQUESTS OPEN!

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Deadly Nightshade 🐙🔥💕-- a Suguru Geto "sex pollen" fic.

Kamo Choso Masterlist

Updated: 28th December 2023

REQUESTS OPEN!

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Glory Glory 🔥☕-- 'Help, I'm stuck!' on a mission together, and virgin Choso is offered the opportunity of a lifetime.

Snowhere to Go ☕💕-- When your date plans are foiled by the snow, you and Choso make your own fun with a stack of old board games.

Aoi Todo Masterlist

Updated: 27th January 2024

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Act of the Soul 🔥-- Aoi Todo uses his Boogie Boogie on the reader during sex.

JJK's Multi-Character Masterlist

Updated: 31st March 2024

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Being gross in long-term comfortable relationships ☕💕-- with Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Yuuta, Maki, Megumi, Nobara, Yuuji and Ino

"Cumfaces" Ask and Drabble 🤡

Defending Your Honour ☕💕-- the JJK boys are sick of the creeps and perverts who harass our dear reader.

Nanami, Todo and Geto

Higuruma, Ino and Yuuji

Gojo, Megumi and Nobara, Inumaki and Toji

Firemen 💔☕💕-- the JJK Crew rescue the Reader, and fall in love at the same time.

Nanami and Higuruma Aesthetics: ☕ 'Besto Friendos' dichotomies

Neat Suit/Messy Suit

Cold Anger/Hot Anger

"Stay down!" Fighter/"Get Up!" Fighter

City-Skyline Penthouse/Converted-Factory Penthouse aesthetics

IKEA Flat-pack Aesthetics

How They Ejaculate 🔥📚-- a physiological ejaculation study of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji, Higuruma and TrueForm!Sukuna

Penis Synonym Smutfics 🤡🔥 -- with Nanami Kento, Hiromi Higuruma, Takuma Ino, Gojo Satoru and Inumaki Toge

Penpals (a Panda fic) 🐼☕-- he didn't mean to Catfish you. Honestly.

Shower Mat 🔥💕-- the reader buys an 'old lady shower mat'...that makes shower shenanigans suddenly possible.

Takuma Ino as a Young Dad ☕💕-- when Takuma unexpectedly becomes a father...

The Rebounds 🔥💕-- Yuuta and Maki show you the date of your life, after you're dumped

They Find You Wearing This...Unsexy Monstrosity 🤡 -- with Itadori Yuuji, Satoru Gojo, Higuruma, Sukuna, Toji, Nanami and Suguru

[toriaaniin]

The only real couple here is L and A. You should ship them, they are really in love.

Thanks for the recommendation Anon... but NO. I'm here to ship one couple, and one couple only.

If Nicola or Luke find love and happiness with someone else, wonderful! Will I ship them with other people? No. Will I be happy for them? Absolutely! The thing is, what I see between Luke and Nicola is unlike any connection I've ever seen and it's THAT connection - a soulmate connection - that I'm here for. When either one of them makes it clear that they're committed to another person (which they haven't done :: going on a "date" while being unwilling to post that "date" on your IG stories, or a friend walking you home after a pub night who then shields you because a photographer is papping you :: these aren't examples of committed, romantic relationships!), I will stop shipping Luke & Nicola. I will not, however and ever, stop believing in the divine love I witnessed through them.

And another Anon asked and suggested:

Anon: even though my blog is new-ish, my stats tell me that I'm not being laughed at. Because I'm posting your ridiculous messages, YOU on the other hand, ARE being laughed at. In fact my readers are going to laugh at you in the comments 😂🤣

Lukola friends - these aren't the only Anons to reach out to me these past days, but they'll be the only ones I'm going to respond to publicly. I decided to share evidence of their troll campaign so that you could rest easy in the knowledge that the Lutonia's (edited to add: and Jakolas [see P.S. below]) are panicked. They saw what we saw at the BOSS event and the pieces don't fit their "hot couple in love" narrative.

A situation that didn't make sense given the lack of contact between Antonia & Luke since the end of July,

A petrified Antonia who wasn't professionally styled, as though she wasn't a priority,

An angry and disgruntled Luke who cast Antonia's hand aside, then looked like he wasn't happy to be photographed with her,

Luke's eventual (3 days later) black screened IG story with a black heart (macabre!) and a link that required two navigation clicks to get to TT so that the viewer could watch a reel that listed Antonia as "guest".

To my way of thinking, the whole "date" was an orchestrated PR stunt aimed at deflecting gaze away from Nicola & their treasure during a time when the utmost privacy was desired by both her and Luke.

So the Lutonia/Jakola anon troll's strategy? Push us when they perceive us to be down in the hopes that we don't get up. Hit out with verbiage meant to feed doubts they think we have. They also (and I love this because it's so fucking hilarious!) work soooo hard to link obvious Nicola and Polin "Lady Whistledown" references to their sinking ships. Silly gooses. And of course they ignore that Luke has never claimed or clarified Antonia's status in his life... even now, after the BOSS event.

The trolling behaviour doesn't phase me in the least. I don't have doubts they can crush with their silliness. Nicola and Luke are soulmates. End of statement.

So troll anons: why not head back to your sinking USS Lutonia or USS Jakola and cast off for home before your ship sinks to the bottom of the ocean. From this point forward I'll be blocking those that send me messages like this. If you're inclined to message me similar bullshit, why not save yourself the trouble and stay in your own shipping lane.

Aaniin Xxx

P.S. I just discovered a kinda back-door way to see who these Anon posters are... and they're NOT officially Lutonia shippers. They're JAKOLAS!! What dickheads. To all the Jakeholes that are reading this post - fuck off to your own ship. You're worse than the Lutonias. Your desperation stinks like shit. I've also incorporated Jakolas into the original post above.

[casscainmainly]

Cass, Names, and the Black Bat Era

With a Black Bat mention in 2025 (read Batgirl (2024) #4!!), it seems as good a time as any to look back on one of Cass' most fleeting identities. We all know why Cass took up Batgirl and Orphan, but we don't get to see the thought process behind Black Bat. I'm going to consider why Cass might have chosen Black Bat as her name, and what it means for her relationship to Bruce and the Bat symbol.

This analysis will purely consider events from the characters' perspectives, ignoring authorial intent. There is like a negative percent chance any of the connections I make here were intended, and Black Bat probably was just a name they randomly picked. This is essentially me trying to make sense of the little Cass bits we get during the Batman Reborn era.

Background: Batgirl and Orphan

Growing up nameless, Cass associates names with personhood and autonomy. Batgirl was the first (and the most important), and a large part of Batgirl (2000) showed how Cass only thinks of herself as Batgirl.

Batgirl (2000) #7

"You need to relax, Cass--sorry--Batgirl." Barbara's 'sorry' indicates that Cass' identity is purely Batgirl, disliking any other name. (For a more in-depth exploration of this moment, see renaroo's meta!). This shows how it's not just the mantle, but the name - the actual word - that matters to Cass.

A very similar thing happens in Batman & Robin Eternal #26:

Once again, Cass is extremely particular about what people call her. And once again she rejects one identity in favour of another - she struggles with being more than one thing. Whatever identity she adopts, it contains her whole self.

Which is why when she loses herself, she becomes nameless:

Batgirl (2000) #73 / Red Robin #17

In the first panel, Cass has just 'killed' Shiva and forsaken Batgirl. "She thought she was a bat. But she came to find she wasn't that either." Without the bat, she becomes a girl "named Cain." While not technically nameless, Cain is just her father's last name - she has no first name of her own. This namelessness occurs again in Red Robin. After Bruce tells Cass to give Steph Batgirl, Cass is left without the bat again - and, again, she becomes nameless. Tim gives her a bat costume, asks her what she needs, and she says "to... just... be...".

If she takes up another name, she will become something - a name is not only identification, but transformation. When she has no idea who she is or who she wants to be (as seen in the end of Batgirl (2000) and Red Robin), she chooses namelessness.

The Gift

Cass remaining nameless not only shows her lack of identity, but her rejection of Bruce and the Batfamily.

Red Robin #17

Here, Tim says it doesn't matter what Cass calls herself, they'll always be family. Cass' answer is cryptic: "But family is not always home..." If we look at Cass' history, the only times she leaves her family is when their relationship becomes unbearable. She runs from David Cain because he makes her kill; she leaves Babs because she calls her stupid; she leaves Gotham the first time because of Steph's death; she goes to Hong Kong because Bruce makes her give away Batgirl. Family isn't home for Cass only when something awful happens.

For Cass, family and names have always been linked. In my gift post, I talked about how Batgirl was presented as a gift, and how Babs says gifts are things that make you "feel[...] not alone" (Azrael: Agent of the Bat #61). Batgirl, a gift, makes Cass feel "not alone." The mantle represents her connection to the Batfamily.

In fact, Red Robin parallels the original gifting of the Batgirl suit:

Legends of the Dark Knight #120 / Red Robin #17

Tim explicitly links the gift of the Bat symbol to family: "the...family... has settled down. I thought maybe... it was time to make it all official." (This also somewhat parallels Bruce's adoption of Cass, which Tim was also there for). But Cass doesn't accept the gift this time, telling Tim that Steph is already Batgirl, and that 'family isn't always home'. She keeps the suit, but the ambivalence in her response shows her ambivalence to her family.

Batgirl and Orphan are both familial names, one linked to the Bats, one linked to David Cain. Names to Cass represent both her own identity and her relationship to other people. When Batman took Batgirl away, he was essentially revoking her place in the family (Batman R.I.P happens right after her adoption too). Though we never explicitly get Cass' feelings, her hesitance at Tim's gift says a lot.

What Was Tim's Gift Anyway?

When Tim first sees Cass, he thinks to himself:

Red Robin #17

This is a great insight into what Tim was actually offering. The first thought reveals that Tim wasn't suggesting Cass be Batgirl again, which Cass assumed. He knows Cass doesn't want to be "who she was" - he thinks she's being true to what "she wanted to become."

What does he think Cass wants to become?

Batgirl (2000) #59

In Robin/Batgirl: Fresh Blood, Cass tells Tim the "the only thing" she's ever wanted was to be Batman. This is the only thing she wants - when Tim says she's being 'true to what she wanted to become', it's likely he's thinking of this conversation. So when Tim offers the batsuit, he's offering the bat mantle. He's offering what she always wanted to be: Batman.

But Cass' conception of Batman is clearly tied to Bruce ("take over for him when he's... done"), which in turn ties the concept of Batman to Gotham. Cass does become the Bat of Hong Kong, but she doesn't take the Batman name (which she totally could, since Bruce and Dick are sharing the name; or she could be 'the bat' or whatever).

Instead, she chooses Black Bat. Both Batgirl and Orphan are taken from other people, so this is strikingly the only name Cass invented (even Kasumi was probably not her invention? It was a disguise anyway). But was Black Bat actually Cass' invention?

Tai'Darshan All Along

Batgirl (2000) #40

Black Bat is also taken from someone - from Cass' first canon love interest, the one and only Tai'Darshan. I seriously don't think DC knew they were taking the name from him, but they did and that means Tai is extremely important to understanding Cass' Black Bat era.

Because Tai doesn't just represent teenage hormones. Like Lady Shiva, Tai'Darshan was a foil to Batman, someone who opposed him in almost every aspect. He is Cass' first proper rebellion, kickstarting the downfall of Cass and Bruce's relationship in Horrocks' run; he also died because of Bruce's interference, something that Bruce himself thinks is the reason Cass doesn't trust him anymore.

Batgirl (2000) #47

Though Bruce and Cass make up in #50, there is something permanently secretive about Black Wind and Cass' relationship. Bruce says "she won't tell me what" happened, and Tai's last conversation with Cass is about secrets:

Batgirl (2000) #44

Tai'Darshan represents Cass' secret side, a side "buried" from everyone (particularly Bruce). Tai's reference to Cass' "real name" is poignant - in a way, he was the first person who liked Cass for Cass, who asked her to take off her mask and admired her face underneath. He never knew who she really was, but he loved her anyway. The 'bat' in Black Bat doesn't refer to Bruce, but to Cass. It makes sense that at a time of complete identity loss - after giving up Batgirl at Bruce's orders - Cass would turn to a nickname from someone who caused her falling out with Bruce, who represents secrets, rebellion, and a self defined outside of Batman.

Black Bat

Gates of Gotham #4

I wrote elsewhere about how Gates of Gotham, and this conversation with Dick in particular, is Cass rebelling against Bruce's (and DC's) decision to boot her from Gotham. In GoG #5, she tells Tim she's staying. Black Bat as a mantle is not really Cass becoming 'the Bat' of any place - it's something different, something new. It's a reconfiguration of the Bat symbol as something that's hers.

I think Tim bookending this Black Bat experience is important, too. He gives her the Bat symbol in Hong Kong - she comes back to Gotham to tell him she's returning permanently. Black Bat and Red Robin are syntactically similar, and Black Bat is very similar to one of Tim's name suggestions ("Black Robin"). For Tim, Red Robin was punishment made into redemption; he took the name from Jason and made it his own. Black Bat, in its own way, is Cass doing the same. By taking a nickname from Tai'Darshan, she is using the bat name/symbol without attaching it to Bruce; in fact, the memory of Tai is against Bruce. She's taking back the symbol that means so much to her and making it her own.

Conclusion

This was honestly a big excuse to remind people that Black Bat comes from Tai'Darshan. As one of 4 Tai fans on this website, I just think his role in Cass' life is really interesting and underappreciated! His storyline may be awful in every way, but I'll always have a soft spot for him as a character.

Also I was writing this before Batgirl (2024) #4 came out and it does somewhat complicate this reading. Shiva is implying that Black Bat, like Orphan (and Kasumi) are identities that Cass affects, that she's "aspiring to be somebody else". I don't think Shiva is being quite fair - Orphan, for instance, is as much in defiance of David Cain as it is an homage to him. But it's interesting that even when Cass is constructing her own identity, she consistently defaults to using other people's names. In that way Shiva is right - for Cass, names are gifts, so she never tries to name herself. She also, even in this reading, clings to the image of the bat. I'm highly interested where Brombal's investigation into Cass' identity will take her, especially in regards to superhero and legacy mantles.

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.

so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...

The Avatar

the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".

the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.

atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending

the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".

the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.

Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.

this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.

Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.

Bumi

bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.

one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.

NWT Royal Palace

chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.

gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.

Betrothal Necklaces

to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.

the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.

Chi-Blocking

though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.

kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.

Wan Shi Tong's Library

the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.

i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.

[witchyafterdark]

Consolidated HL Character Profile #2:

— Sebastian Sallow —

Note: Finally, here is Sebastian's version of the complete profile analysis I've done before! I actually started doing his profile before Ominis' but his character information and background became more difficult for me to understand. Nevertheless, I'm happy to post this one for all the Sebastian girlies — and fans in general! 💕

As always, tags and shoutouts are at the very end of this post.

This is a very, very long post. Pace yourself and take your time.

—---—---—---—---—

I. Possible Birth Place

NOTE: These are all speculated places backed with cross-referenced research, and other people’s headcanons. This was the most difficult part of this post, and I am open to other suggestions and ideas.

Before we begin to even tackle all the possible birthplaces of Sebastian (and Anne), there are a couple of important things that needed to be discussed. At the end of this segment, there will be options to choose from based on narrowed down (and specified) locations.

Firstly, we know that Sebastian’s parents were professors who unfortunately passed away before he and Anne developed their magical abilities. Therefore, majority of people in the HL community have an unspoken agreement that the Sallow family (except Solomon) used to live near Hogwarts—if Mr. and Mrs. Sallow were to fulfill their work as professors during the day, and come home to their children at night every single day. They had to live near their place of work because it was indicated that they spent nearly every waking moment in the cellar attending to their academic pursuits.

But wait… where exactly is Hogwarts located?

Scotland is a massive place with lots of towns and cities. In order to narrow down the possible locations of where Hogwarts is situated, I have referred to this source that had studied this whole topic with as much precision as possible that simultaneously pieced together book-canon mentions of the castle itself.

This map shown below is the route that the Hogwarts Express travels from London (at King’s Cross Station) to the castle that oversees Hogsmeade as well. According to the website linked above, standard Victorian steam-powered trains run for 80mph (or 128kph). But under route calculation and terrain consideration, the train would have had the speed of around 65mph if it is to comply with the fact that the students reach Hogwarts by nighttime. And since the entire magical community of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade (and the entire magical Scottish Highlands) are hidden from muggle view, the estimation of Hogwarts’ location is either the Galloway Hills or the West Highlands.

For the sake of congruency between book-canon information and the landscape of the game’s map, this post will settle on the West Highlands instead.

Fun Fact: It was said that Hogsmeade was founded by an Englishman named Hengist of Woodcroft. I noticed that places with the word “-croft” is predominant in Hogwarts Legacy. There’s the Undercroft and Feldcroft, and I think it wraps up nicely alongside the origins of the founder of Hogsmeade himself.

—

Now that Hogwarts’ location has been established, let’s move on with Sebastian’s possible birthplaces.

1. Aranshire

It has been such a long while ago, but I have asked permission from @hogwartslegacypics to reference the post she did before. (Thank you for allowing me to use your work for mine. All pictures used in this segment are credited to you).

There have been deleted voice lines that Sebastian would say or be triggered when you walk with him around this area using the Companion Mod. The quest in Aranshire would have the main character investigate what happened in the village becoming abandoned by its townspeople. This would lead to a house inhabited by Mary Portman, and she was responsible for breeding all sorts of spiders in the cellar of her house.

Furthermore, Sebastian would have a specific voice line once you get inside the cellar. I have tried to activate this dialogue with other NPC’s but it’s only him that says it. There is the possibility that this quest was supposed to be done with Sebastian as part of his questline.

In this video, with the timestamp 59:39, only Sebastian says this line:

“I suppose we know what happened to Mary Portman. She was breeding the spiders.”

It would be both economical and logical for the Sallow professors to have a house near their place of employment instead of boarding with the other professors in the Faculty Tower without a live-in sitter watching their two children. And even if they did hire someone to watch their children, we were never given any indication that the twins were left under someone else's care when Mr. and Mrs. Sallow were still alive. Plus, it would put quite a dent on their finances to rely on childcare services for the whole school year that they'd be at work.

Lastly, giving birth at home is the norm during Victorian times. According to the Victorian Web:

"... for much of the nineteenth century the safest place to be delivered, regardless of social class, was at home by a well-trained midwife. Until the widespread use of antisepsis in the 1880s, male practitioners were more likely to carry infection, using unclean instruments and moving as they did between different types of medical cases and post-mortems to deliveries."

And so, it would make perfect sense that Mrs. Sallow would give birth at the comfort and safety of their home—which would indicate that Sebastian and Anne's birthplace would be Aranshire, or at the very least, near Hogwarts.

2. St. Mungo’s Hospital, London

Another possible place where Sebastian and Anne might have been born is actually at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

I would like to believe that Wizarding medical practices have stark differences from their muggle counterparts, and that the use of magic may have provided the Wizarding world some medical advances long before muggle technological discoveries.

While all of this is just speculation, there is also the possibility of complications with giving birth to a set of twins. Given that most women of the Victorian age preferred home births due to the higher maternal mortality rate with hospital births, there could still be the possibility that Mrs. Sallow had Sebastian and Anne at the hospital.

Both of his parents are professors, and was said to be open-minded folks. It wouldn't be surprising if they are the type of new parents who had read every maternity book they could get their hands on, and may have chosen the option of having medical witches and wizards to aid the delivery of the twins—should any sort of complications arise in the midst of labor.

St. Mungo's Hospital is located in London, concealed in such a manner similar to that of Diagon Alley.

"To enter the premises, one might step through the window of what appeared to be a red-bricked, condemned department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd. This acted as a magical gateway to the main building, much like the barrier at King's Cross Station to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Although the "department store" building housing the hospital might have been relatively small, this was not an indication of the true capacity of a magical building, the interior looked exactly as a hospital should. One way an individual could enter the building was speaking to an apparently inanimate dummy in the department store."

3. Fort William, Scotland

For Sebastian's last possible place of birth, I had to resort to looking at his wiki page. There was one little thing that I noticed written on his biographical information. There is chance that he is a half-blood.

Given that both his parents are professors, we don't actually have any actual confirmation or evidence that they taught at Hogwarts!

It could be feasible that one of Sebastian's parents was indeed a professor at Hogwarts, while the other one taught at a muggle school. If that's the case, then the Sallow family might have to settle somewhere in the "middle" of their place of work—one goes to the Wizarding community while the other goes to the nearest muggle town.

And according to the map below, the nearest muggle town that was actually the final stop before Hogwarts was Fort William.

Although, just because Sebastian and Anne were born here doesn't mean that they were raised here. It was still canonically stated that Sebastian grew up within the Wizarding community; which is around Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Aranshire, and other hamlets deep in the Scottish Highlands.

Nevertheless, if one really wants to pinpoint an actual location on the (muggle) map, then Fort William is the nearest and most likely place. And yes, the Hogwarts Express Train passes by this beautiful town.

—

End Results:

Sebastian (and Anne) was most likely born in Aranshire, given the amount of evidence we have in the game—alongside exclusive deleted voice lines from the character himself. Then again, the two other options listed above can be considered as well if we entertain the idea of expounding on the tidbits and hints of information we have about him (such as the possibility that he is a half-blood).

—---—---—---—---—

II. Possible Date of Birth

NOTE: If you're not interested in astrology, you can just skip this one, and go to Part 3, 4, and 5!

This section of the post is pure speculation, and no solid proof at all. But we do know that Sebastian should be born between September 1, 1874 and August 31, 1875 if he was to be eleven years-old during the start of his first year at Hogwarts. Therefore, all of the following information is gathered by astrological observations of his character.

(I have a personal tarot and astrology account, @tarotwitchy, if you guys are interested in knowing more about this type of content).

Based on character analysis, I believe that Sebastian is a Virgo Sun, Scorpio Moon, and Sagittarius Rising.

Now, what does that mean?

Let's break down his character one astrological placement at a time.

1. Virgo Sun

— A lot of people think he is a Scorpio Sun. But as one myself, he doesn't quite fit the bill. Instead, based on his actions throughout the game, he represents the hallmark traits of a Virgo Sun. A person with this placement is someone who gets things done. They have laser-sharp focus on things that matter to them, and they will stop at nothing until they've satisfied their own thirst for knowledge and understanding and experience of whichever captivated their whole attention.

— It's because of this "obsessive" behavior that he is tagged as a Scorpio. But in his case, obsession is a manifestation of an unhealthy Virgo; one that cannot admit defeat and accept their losses. It's like beating a dead horse. It's not actually obsession that took over Sebastian. It's his stubbornness. It's his refusal to acknowledge that he is, in fact, not correct in his methods, and disregards anyone else's advice and pleas for him to stop.

— Before the whole Scriptorium and Relic debacle, you get to know him as someone who has a great reputation around school. The professors and the librarian acknowledge that he is a bright boy, and a notable duellist. When done right, a person with Virgo Sun shines brightly in perfecting their crafts and honing their strengths. The best part is that they have no qualms about helping others reach their full potential as well (and this is evident with the way he helps the MC perform well in practicing spells and teaching them Confringo. He loves knowing beyond what the school is willing to teach. For him, knowledge is knowledge).

2. Scorpio Moon

— This is what most people think he is. But in astrology, the basest of our instincts and emotional fallback is not reflected by our Sun sign but by our Moon sign. Our Moon sign is our last line of defense when the going gets tough. We fall into the characteristics of this placement when our "public façade" has failed to mitigate whatever issue we're dealing with.

— As for Sebastian, his Scorpio Moon took hold of the reins during the time when he was running on fumes; mentally, emotionally, and physically. In Ominis' only note, he mentioned that Sebastian is not acting like himself. As much as he is severely influenced by the Relic, it is believed that Dark Magic amplifies the wizard's emotional status.

— With Sebastian, he was already emotionally worn out from the knawing hopelessness of his sister's condition and from the verbal assault he endures from his uncle. When you combine all these elements together, you get the unhealthiest version of a volatile Scorpio Moon.

3. Virgo Mercury

— People with their Mercury in Virgo are reservoirs of both knowledge and the ambition to understand more than what they already know. They aren't the type of people to stop searching for answers simply because they already found a half-baked solution to their problems. They go the extra mile, and then some more.

— And as we all know, Sebastian had turned the entire library upside down reading tome after tome on possible solutions for Anne's dilemma. A Slytherin main character would first encounter him pacing back and forth in the common room reading a huge book... on the first day of school.

— Majority of people with this astrological placement report that they just have that intellectual "itch" that needs to be scratched with more and more information, experimentation, research, and discovery. Until that hunger is satiated, they will not stop their quest to find out the truth they seek. We see Sebastian's downward spiral with this attribute. He was willing to go as far as casting the Cruciatus curse just to get his hands on Salazar Slytherin's spellbook.

4. Scorpio Venus

— Men with Scorpio Venuses are those who aren’t afraid with the nitty gritty of interpersonal and romantic relationships. Some people like to keep things on the surface level, not really bothering with really getting to know other people on an intimate level. And yet, Sebastian has shown to be yearning for more information about the people he’s involved with.

— In the game, when the main character was starting to understand their abilities with ancient magic, Sebastian was quick to ask, “what aren’t you telling me?” He’s the kind of person who goes beyond the hi’s and hello’s, and wants to understand his companion’s current situation. This is the hallmark trait of a person with their Venus in Scorpio. Furthermore, he also exhibits the mentality of wanting to always be in-the-loop of his loved ones’ lives, even if he’s dealing with his own problems at the same time. In his mind, your problem is also his problem, and he will not abandon you in your most trying times.

— This kind of closeness can sometimes be overwhelming for people who aren’t used to another person being very personal and up-close with their lives. But this is one of the way a Scorpio Venus shows their love, and this is very evident with how Sebastian is also helping the main character in their quest find out more about Ancient Magic in spite of drowning in his own research on Anne’s cure.

5. Leo Mars

— If Mars in Leo had a textbook example, Sebastian’s face would be on the cover. To name a few examples of how he exhibits some of the qualities this astrological placement has, let’s start with the fact that Mars is the planet responsible with body language. The way Sebastian was portrayed during his cutscenes and with his routine walks around the castle, he has a very confident gait and posture. He naturally carries himself with his own brand of masculinity; not aggressively so, but securely taking up appropriate space for himself.

— Another quality that people with Leo Mars has is that they are not afraid of being under the spotlight. They live up to people’s expectations of them, and they deliver a spectacular show of presence. In Sebastian’s case, he was one of the best duelists of Crossed Wands, and he doesn’t shy away from being the main character’s opponent during Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

— He is charismatic, ambitious, and playfully adventurous and competitive. Then again, Sebastian is shown to be stubborn, dramatic, and prone to anger. These are the characteristic manifestations of Mars in the sign of Leo.

(Not to mention that his favorite spells are fiery in nature!)

6. Sagittarius Rising

— A person’s ascendant has something to do with people’s first impressions of them. There are some astrological analysis of what Sebastian’s ascendant (or rising) sign would be. Majority of them are saying he has a Scorpio Rising. To have a Scorpio Rising, one has to have a demeanor of being unapproachable, have an air of enigma, and being quite intimidating. However, our first interaction and impression of Sebastian couldn’t be further from the truth. He is open, he is approachable, he is playful, and he is chatty. Ominis, on the other hand, has a Scorpio Rising for the same reasons I stated above for this sign.

— Therefore, Sebastian has a Sagittarius Rising. Traits of this sign include having a curious glint in their eyes, being quite effortlessly popular amongst his peers, charmingly clever, and has an intellectual brand of humor.

— Sagittarius is the sign of higher learning. If the main character was a Slytherin, the very first cutscene of Sebastian is with him pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, with a massive book in his hand, and reading and learning what he can about his dilemma. That is a very obvious and blatant display of a first impression of a Sagittarius rising.

—

End Results:

Sebastian Sallow was born on September 15, 1874 at around 1:00PM, during the autumn season.

Of course, all of this is just my personal headcanon but I made sure to back them up with research and imbued them with my own astrological knowledge when it comes to matching his personality and his possible birth date.

—---—---—---—---—

III. Psychometric Analysis

NOTE: I will be linking the sites for these tests should you want to take them yourself! 😊 Have fun!

1. MBTI

— ENTP (Extrovert, Intuitive, Thinking, Perceiving)

"ENTP's are known for their rebellious streak. For this personality type, no belief is too sacred to be questioned, no idea is too fundamental to be scrutinized, and no rule is too important to be broken or at least thoroughly tested. This could make them seem overly cavalier or defiant, but at their core, their innate tendency to test boundaries has more to do with their desire for innovation and change."

Sebastian is, quite literally, the poster boy for ENTP. He embodies the trademark inquisitive nature of this type, and he has the signature charm to back it up as well. He isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty to understand a certain topic he zeroes in on, and he doesn’t shy away from topics that would be considered taboo. As a matter of fact, he thrives in the taboo. Sebastian doesn’t discriminate the information that comes his way; instead, he has his own mental compass and filter that systematizes the knowledge he comes to possess.

2. Enneagram

— Type 8 with wing 7; SX/SP (The Maverick)

“8w7 people are action-oriented and powerful people with a passion for pursuing new opportunities. They tend to be self-confident, sociable, pragmatic and comfortable with conflict. They’re ambitious and independent, preferring to follow their own path. They dream big and have the dedication to achieve their goals. They thrive in environments that encourage their idealism, while granting them the authority to make a difference. They don’t settle for anything; they always seek more. They are also strategic and tough if needed.”

True to the name of this particular Enneagram, Sebastian is known as a rebel and a maverick. He’s the kind of person that questions the rules and authority instead of following blindly. He has his own moral code that he abides to because he is secure in his ability to make the correct decisions, even if we know that he’s going down a dark path. As a rebel, he will stubbornly insist to everyone that his way is the right way because he has already examined the possible courses of action outside the constraints of authority.

This is why he ended up butting heads with Ominis (who thrives in his own systematic order). To Sebastian, no rule is too sacred to break. As long as he sees the alternative outcomes to a specific goal, he will march to the beat of his own drum.

3. Four Temperaments

— Choleric–Sanguine (The Executive)

"The Choleric-Sanguine has a natural drive to quickly get results. They are goal and bottom-line oriented, and can be very persuasive in promoting their ideas and goals. They are easily annoyed when others do not comply with their instructions or direction but it passes quickly; quickly aroused, easily calmed. They are not angry, although others may at times think they are furious. They are impatient and will push others to obtain results and be productive."

This is blend of Temperament fits Sebastian perfectly, especially towards the tail end of his plotline. It’s very evident is his voice lines that he isn’t afraid to push people to their limits and persuade others relentlessly. He jumps into the heat of the battle without much thought, and he expects people to follow suit. He doesn’t appreciate it when his close friends question his motives because that would be an insinuation that they don’t trust his judgments. He is quick on his feet and even quicker with executing alternate routes to get closer to his goals instead of wallowing in his failures.

—---—---—---—---—

IV. Corporeal Patronus

NOTE: An Animagus is a witch or wizard's animal representation of their basest instincts and behavior. A Patronus is an animal manifestation of what makes them happiest. While most people will have the same animal for their Animagus form and Patronus, it's not always the case. We know that a person's Patronus can change throughout their lifetime.

Majority of people in the community have an unspoken agreement that Sebastian’s Animagus is a fox. By extension, his Patronus must take the corporeal form of a fox as well. However, I personally disagree with the definitions that I find in most sources. Therefore, I researched every possible Patronus result in the Wizarding World official test, and painstakingly reviewed their meanings using multiple sources. I have also enlisted the help of my cousin, who also completed her gameplay as a proud Hufflepuff, to determine which amongst all the extensive Patronus possibilities suit Sebastian the best. And after two hours of combing and debating through it, we have decided on the Buffalo.

This source defined this patronus as such:

Few possess just the right strength of character for their patronus to take the form of a buffalo. Those that do are dedicated individuals who are fiercely protective of those close to them, and not in a general way, either. Anyone foolish enough to attempt to harm another under a buffalo’s care is unlikely to come out unscathed. They are fighters, and it’s not uncommon for a buffalo to have their own personal code or way of acting to which normal morality simply doesn’t apply, which can be dangerous even for the buffalo. When all is well, they are placid but often outgoing, with strong personalities and who like having fun with those they bond to. However, going too long without contact with friends or family can lead to a buffalo feeling anxious or sad, and they will usually be at their best when sharing time with others. They are steadfast friends that enjoy being helpful and lending a hand to complete a task, or just making someone feel better. The buffalo is full of many feelings, the strong stature of them showing through a person in this way. They try to appear stoic, but it often backfires and they wear their hearts on their sleeves. They are passionate about everything they do and headstrong. They make sure their opinions are known by all that they concern, because they want to show that they are not weak. They feel as though their emotion and lack of control over it does in a way give them weakness, and it angers them greatly. They have strong tempers that are easy to lose.

A witch or a wizards Patronus has been proven to change over the span of their lifetime, and is influenced by major milestones such as marriage, relationships, or simply being influenced by your parent’s Patronus. However, based on the game material itself, a Buffalo Patronus fits Sebastian the best. Yes, he can still emulate the trickster and cunning nature of having a Fox Animagus. But based on his emotional state throughout the game, this animal’s spirit and its subsequent meaning perfectly reflects why he did the things he has done. He bulldozes his way through things without much contemplation, and he does wear his heart on his sleeves. Sebastian is the type to also care about the problems of his friends and loved ones personally, and will be their pillar of strength when needed.

—---—---—---—---—

V. Wand Analysis

1. Wand Wood

Based on the physical characteristics of this wand and the meaning of the wood, it's highly possible that Sebastian's wand is made from Yew Wood.

According to the wand wood information:

"Yew wands are among the rarer kinds, and their ideal matches are likewise unusual, and occasionally notorious. The wand of yew is reputed to endow its possessor with the power of life and death, which might, of course, be said of all wands; and yet yew retains a particularly dark and fearsome reputation in the spheres of duelling and all curses. However, it is untrue to say (as those unlearned in wandlore often do) that those who use yew wands are more likely to be attracted to the Dark Arts than another. The witch or wizard best suited to a yew wand might equally prove a fierce protector of others. Wands hewn from these most long-lived trees have been found in the possession of heroes quite as often as of villains. Where wizards have been buried with wands of yew, the wand generally sprouts into a tree guarding the dead owner’s grave. What is certain, in my experience, is that the yew wand never chooses either a mediocre or a timid owner."

There have been a plethora of different wand woods that are actually suitable for Sebastian's magical disposition. Most people have hypothesized that his wand is made from Aspen due to its duelling nature. However, I have considered that Sebastian's duelling skills are not emphasized because of the wand he uses. It is through his innate magical skills and strength that made him an exceptional duellist.

I also do not see him joining a duelling club (Silver Spears) as a way to flaunt his wand and the exclusivity of what it entails. He was most likely recruited due to his consistent displays of sheer talent and capabilities in martial magic during classes. Sebastian doesn't seem to be the type to use a personal artifact to bolster his reputation. Rather, he utilizes everything he has with efficient resourcefulness to hone his abilities manually and with hard work. You can take his wand from him and provide him with another, and he'd still be formidable with it. That is the kind of witch or wizard Yew wands choose — just as it chose Tom Riddle and Ginny Weasley.

2. Wand Core

This one is easy to determine. Sebastian's wand is imbued with a core of Dragon Heartstring. According to Ollivander, this wand is powerful yet volatile at the wrong hands.

"As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental."

With how quickly Sebastian reads and practices a lot of things in such a short period of time (and simultaneously juggling his studies along with it), it's safe to say that he is a quick learner. He easily absorbs what he reads and witnesses without trouble, and he is able to put into immediate use what he discovers just moments ago. It makes sense that he is paired with a wand with this kind of core, as he needs a magical conduit that doesn't hinder his fast progress.

Furthermore, it is a matter of fact that he truly is drawn towards the Dark Arts, and he was able to cast all the Unforgivable Curses without any error nor did he fumble with them. It takes a great amount of skill a wizard possesses in order to execute these highly complex, powerful, and very dark magic. This is something that a Dragon Heartstring wand core looks for in its owner; the innate drive and relentless energy to fulfill advanced forms of magic. Sebastian just so happens to tick all of those boxes seamlessly.

3. Wand Flexibility and Length

According to the official source:

"Wand flexibility or rigidity denotes the degree of adaptability and willingness to change possessed by the wand-and-owner pair."

Because of that, his wand's flexibility is most likely Hard. This source had explained it perfectly:

"A wand of this flexibility is very difficult to work with and its loyalty is not won easily. Hard wands are great for complex and advanced levels of magic, so beginning wizards and witches may find extra difficulty with this wand when it doesn't perform well for simple magic. As such, this type of wand is best suited for wizards and witches who are gifted, stubborn, and never give up. Owners of this wand also have a tendency to view things in absolutes; black or white. Some people may find them intimidating or difficult to approach."

Majority of Sebastian's wand analysis categorizes it as Unyielding. And while that was the initial decision in this post, I ultimately decided otherwise. With this flexibility, it really puts emphasis on his natural affinity for difficult spells and his tenacity to see through what he started. This kind of wand is not for the timid witch or wizard but someone who is comfortable being challenged time and time again. And of course, Sebastian sees a challenge as a test of his magical progress and curiosities.

As for the length of it, a standard 12 and 3/4 inches suits him just fine. He isn't too cocky about his skills but he also has confidence in himself to get things done.

—

End Results:

Yew Wood, Dragon Heartstring Core, Hard Flexibility, and 12 3/4 inches long! (It isn't a mystery that Confringo is one of his favorite spells!)

—---—---—---—---—

Honestly, this is a difficult one to finish. There wasn’t much to go on with, and every information here was based on very limited information. And most of my posts took a back burner because I feel like I needed to finish this one first. And I had this post sitting in my drafts for more than a year now!

Nevertheless, I am happy with what I produced, and this was given the same amount of thought as the one I had with Ominis. This one’s for all the Sebastian lovers! I hope this is up to par with other character analysis we already have in the fandom.

Tags:

Just a shoutout to my cousin, Marsha, for helping me with this post! I had so much fun doing this at the crack of dawn while we FaceTimed. Without your help, this post won’t be published. Love you to bits, and I’ll see you in December!

@sunnyrealist: I promised, didn’t I? I’m sorry it took a year, though!

@pufflehuffing: I swear, our conversations will always be the highlight of my social media presence in this fandom. This one’s for you, too!

@ravenwind-75: I know you’re an Ominis girlie but I also promised to share this with you once I wrapped it up. Our chats have always been so nice, and I genuinely enjoy being a part of your community.

—

Look at the date when I first created this post. It's been rotting in my drafts for more than a year now... just like the rest of my other posts. 🥲

[sexyapostate]

Auntie Ethel's Race-Specific Vicious Mockeries

Because of this post by rpgchoices, I figured I'd compile all the other Vicious Mockery lines Auntiel Ethel can hit the player with. These don't include the origin companion specific ones. You can find those in the linked post.

DROW ELF

Filthy underscum!

Just another of Lolth's pretty harlots.

Slaver. Sadist. How dare you judge me?

DROW ELF (MALE)

Bare your throat, spider-bait.

Kneel, boy. Just like the matriarchs taught you to.

Bow to your betters, boy.

HALF-ELF DROW

Even the Underdark doesn't want you, half-breed.

Surprised you show yourself in public, abomination.

A half-drow? How grotesque.

DWARF

More beard than brains, the lot of you.

Bet you'd trade your friends for a trinket or two, gold-eater!

I'll squeeze that stone heart until it bleeds, dwarf.

DUERGAR DWARF

Bow your head, slave. You remember how, don't you?

Grey and useless as a stone comb.

Need a new master, illithid lover?

DRAGONBORN

Aww, where's your clan? Bet they'd exile you for that brainworm in a blink.

Bet that honour of yours shatters easy as your scales.

You foul-breathed little lizard!

GNOME

Disgusting burrow rat.

Bet your clan's happy you're gone!

Try laughing after I rip your throat out, gnome.

ELF 

Fancy yourself immortal? We'll see how long that lasts.

I'll show you what a true fey does, dearie.

Elves are so pretty. Pretty worthless!

HALF-ELF

I wonder which parent regrets you more, half-breed.

How revolting. Another thin-blooded mongrel. Half-elf. Half-human. All useless.

HUMAN

Another human rat infesting Faerûn.

A human! So desperate to be special.

Pity. That tadpole actually made you interesting.

HALFLING

No flabby dwarf's a threat to me.

Come closer, little softie. You'll be tender.

A tiny, sweet morsel. Just for me.

HALF-ORC

Come now, tusks-for-brains! Doesn't this make you angry?

All that bloodlust. A little tap, and I bet you won't know friend from foe!

Lumbering half-orc. Twice as ugly as your parents combined!

TIEFLING

I'll burn you alive and everyone will celebrate.

You're everyone's punching bag and no one's favourite.

I see the Hells spit out another tragic little tiefling.

These were included in the dialogue document and the races listed are exactly what's in the dialogue's trigger flags.

PLANAR (githyanki, warforged)

What kind of botched portal brought something like you here?

Are you lost, little one? Maybe your soul will make it back home.

I'll banish you for good, outsider!

RARE (aasimar, dragonborn, firbolg, genasi, githyanki, half-drow, half-orc, tiefling, triton, warforged, yuan-ti pureblood)

I'm one step closer to wiping your kind off Faerûn for good!

Freakish thing. I bet everyone stares when you walk by.

Not a lot like you. You'll be my prettiest trophy.

BEASTIAL (aarakocra, kenku, lizardfolk, tabaxi, tortle)

Think you're a person because you're walking on two feet? Adorable.

Can't wait to throw a collar on your neck and make you my familiar.

I'll tan your hide, beast!

BONUS: MINSC? FOR SOME REASON? I don't know why there seem to be unlabeled Minsc-specific Vicious Mockeries. Maybe Ethel played BG1/2 and just really hates him.

How quaint! The hamster has a pet.

Only evil here is what's inside you, ranger.

Go rub your rat, soft-skull.

[bones4thecats]

When Their S/O Patches Them Up

Type of Writing: #7 - Poll Result Characters: Chifuyu Matsuno, Izana Kurokawa, Ran Haitani, and Rindou Haitani Name: When Their S/O Patches Them Up Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: Apologies for not posting anything for a while, I've been short on any ideas and motivations, but, I'm back in action! I hope you enjoy this piece!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💘 He had a penchant for getting into many different fights, from large to small, and today was one of the many different ones he had gotten into

💘 Your boyfriend, Chifuyu, had gotten into a large and brutal fight with a guy who was trying to attack Takemichi, and the only reason that you found out was because Takemichi had called you and informed you of Chifuyu's status

💘 You just growled under your breath and said how you'd be there and he better be at his house by the time you were there

💘 Walking up to his house, you noticed how his mother and father's vehicles were absent, meaning they were at work, and you opened his door with your spare key

" Chifuyu, it's me! "

💘 Noticing his slumped-over form on the couch, you sighed deeply and closed the door behind you, oh, if he looked like a mess like this, you couldn't imagine what his face looked like

💘 You kneeled down and brushed his hair up on the top his head like a mohawk, making him groan at the contact, and that was when you noticed how he was laying his head down on a pillow with an ice-pack

" Oh, sweetheart... what on Earth happened? "

💘 Smirking lightly, he gave you his amazing story, how he jumped in and kicked the prick down with one spring, making his allies turn and begin to assault him

💘 You just sighed as he retold his story of 'bravery' and 'dedication beyond belief', and the smile he adored began to grace your face as you went over his face and arms, making sure you knew where and how bad his injuries were

💘 Chifuyu sightly winced when the alcohol you used to clean his wounds touched him, but, he did sigh with relief when you finished and began to rub his tense shoulders

💘 He would get into a million fights if it meant that you would do this every time he came home

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎴 You swore to yourself that your boyfriend was gonna die in a fight one day, with how many he would get into weekly

🎴 Izana had invited you to watch a fight between his and another gang, and you had made him swear on his life that he wouldn't get super injured, though minor ones like bruises were alright

🎴 He gave you a bright smile and a huge thumbs up as he jumped down from the large storage box you were situated on and began to enter the fight

🎴 You couldn't lie when you said how attractive he was, knocking down men down one by one like they were pins and he was a bowling ball

🎴 But, when a guy managed to throw a knife and slash Izana's leg, and while his adrenaline made him seem like he was fine, you could tell Kakucho was worried

🎴 So, when the leader of the rival gang ordered his men to leave the area in defeat, you jumped down and ran to your boyfriend, who was being held down in a sitting position by Kakucho and the Haitani brothers

🎴 Thankfully, due to your positioning as the medic of Tenjiku, you were well-experienced with healing minor and quite-severe wounds

🎴 As you wrapped the gauze around his leg, he just chuckled, asking if you though such a small wound would really take him down

🎴 You mentally thanked his oldest friend that he took the rest of the men outside of the room, as you didn't want them to see how flustered Izana could make you

🎴 How do you put up with this man? The world may never know

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐈‍⬛ Rarely did he ever get seriously hurt, but bruises were a near constant thing that littered his form, but most of them from his brother slapping him

🐈‍⬛ So, when you opened your door of your apartment after hearing constant knocks and saw him standing there with cuts littering his face, you would be lying if you said you weren't shocked

" Rindou and I kinda got beat up, how rude of those people, am I right? "

🐈‍⬛ You grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, asking him where Rindou was, and he just answered with 'talking to the guys'

🐈‍⬛ Ran was surprisingly calm with the fact that he was bleeding out of his forehead and several parts of his arms

🐈‍⬛ Grabbing the alcohol and several things of gauze, you began to clean his wounds, making sure they weren't to deep and in need of stitches, damn his danger-prone self

🐈‍⬛ He spoke about how he got every cut and bruise as if they were golden medals for a major accomplishment, like a swim-team meet or something similar

🐈‍⬛ Once you had finished cleaning and covering his wounds, you forced him to change into his night-gear, that being a loose-fitting shirt with lounge-pants

🐈‍⬛ And while you claimed laying on him would possibly hurt him, Ran practically dragged you down to lay on his chest, claiming your touch was magical

🐈‍⬛ He's a dork, I'm telling y'all

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐈 Much like his twin brother, Rindou rarely gets harmed beyond bruises around his arms and legs, due to his style of breaking limbs

🐈 But, somehow, he came to your apartment with cuts and quite harmful-looking scratches and cuts on his body, from his head to his legs, you could tell he was having some pain

🐈 You lightly grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, ordering him to sit on the couch as you went to grab stuff to clean his wounds

" You really don't have to, hon'. They'll heal without any special treatment. " " You need them cleaned, Rin'. I'll be back in a minute. "

🐈 Rindou knew you were a stubborn person when it came to the people you cared about, especially him and his brother, mainly him though. Ran gets annoying after a while

🐈 Sighing, he leaned back against the couch and began to hum a light song, ignoring the pains in his chest from stretching, he needs a massage for his tense muscles

🐈 When you came back from your bathroom carrying alcohol and bandages, Rindou sat up and watched closely as you grabbed your remote, turned on the TV to one of his favorite shows, and began to heal his injuries

🐈 He mainly ignored the show, in favor of watching you delicately wrap up his arms and legs, and he smirked as you glared at him and asked him how he got injured

" Why? Were ya' that worried? "

🐈 Cue you smacking him upside the head

[buttl0rd]

I'm watching like a hawk for that new kid 🤲 THE BABY

ALRIGHT HERE HE IS!! lemme introduce you to the new kid 👉👉

this is carroway - he's the best 😎👽

this is gonna be a long post cause i have so much art and content to gush about. i love this kid 👇

Some fun character details:

he was originally supposed to be like the 90's movie tough bully kid but he's ended up just being a stupid asshole. he probably likes to think he's really cool and tough 💪

has 3 younger sisters, hates being outnumbered by girls

huge foodie and finishes whatever you don't eat. not fussy at all

always leaving his mittens outside. they get all wet and gross in the snow

affectionately ripping on everyone he loves. he's a total asshole but most people know he doesn't mean half the shit he says. the real ones tolerate him 😔🤙

he doesn’t know he’s bisexual (don’t tell him, he’ll find out on his own)

Hobbies & Interests

Aliens. Carroway is a firm believer in alien life and has an immense interest in UFO sightings, alien communication and all things outer-space. He often brags to his classmates that he has been abducted and probed, and is friends with the Martians that visit South Park sometimes (do any of them believe him?). He has a telescope that he set up in his friend Dante’s treehouse which he uses to spot UFOs in the night.

FUN FACT: His probe is linked with Cartman's. It's the connection that makes it possible for OCs to exist in the same universe as canon characters.

Drums. He has a drum set in his garage on which he practices every day after school. He has exceptional rhythm and is very talented. He keeps drumsticks in his backpack just in case he encounters a drumset or anything he can make a beat with (tables, benches, trashcans, etc.) Neighbors complain to his parents about the noise, so his garage is sound-proofed to the best of Mr. Carroway’s ability. 

Snowboarding. Carroway goes snowboarding every few weeks. His family do snowboarding trips and he LOVES it. He also skateboards and rides his bike when he’s not up in the mountains, kid just likes to go fast. He dreams of being a professional snowboarder when he’s older.

TFBW: Boarderline

Boarder is a special flying support unit, part of Coon & Friends. He delivers high-impact quick attacks with his hoverboard and can heal/cure status conditions with his awesome space beams. As a speedster he utilizes the whole battlefield and is constantly moving, making him difficult to hit.

Origins:

He was a human that got abducted and genetically modified by Martians to serve and protect the alien race. After battling in many galactic wars he returned to his home in Colorado. His abilities were noticed by the superhero organization, Coon & Friends and Boarder was recruited to join their alliance. He provides support to Coon & Friends in battle.

Design:

Inspired by the gear he wears when he goes snowboarding.

His superhero costume consists of a white bodysuit with black tape accents and a big old metal zip. There's reflective blue strips on the gloves, boots and around the edge of his signature spaceboard. He's got these iconic space goggles that protect his face when he’s flying at the speed of light.

His name is a play on words - board (from his hoverboard) and borderline (being only just good enough for Coon & Friends). Allies call him Boarder for short.

SOT: Skullrogue

Skullrogue is Carroway’s Stick of Truth character.

He is a rogue-class unit and is quick and sneaky on the battlefield. He has a long black hooded cloak and a skull mask. His main weapon is a pair of daggers that are enchanted with flame magic. He cannot use magic himself but he is proficient with weapons, especially the daggers. He throws them and uses them to stab enemies in the back.

Skullrogue has an undisclosed edgy backstory, like any rogue player. He is mysterious and broody and so cool. He is loyal to the Wizard King and thinks Princess Kenny is hot.

Post-COVID

As a young adult, Carroway becomes a professional snowboarder and competes nationally in competitions. He becomes famous and earns a lot of money from his career, travelling the world for competitions. He makes it all the way to the Winter Olympics, representing the USA in the snowboarding category

After a career-ending injury in his mid-30's, he had to retire from snowboarding early and now lives off his sponsors and used-to-be-a-big-shot money. Despite being wealthy, he moved back to South Park and lives in a trailer (it’s easier than having a huge house). 

He sometimes needs a walking aid to get around and is medicated for chronic back pain.

He was too busy with his career to find love when he was younger, so he stays single and lonely in his 40s. He still goes out and does sport events, commentaries and sponsorships - he remains famous even though he cannot compete anymore. He’s like a living legend in the winter sports community. 

I'm still working on a PCOV design for him so stay tuned for that...

Anyway that's it for now!! I hope you love him 😘

[peachglazewrites]

𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚜 ⸙ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙵𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝙹𝚊𝚖

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: ellie/f!reader 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: tlou typical violence, blood & gore, PTSD, poor coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: angst, first meetings, ellie has PTSD, strangers to friends to lovers, SLOW burn 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘: post tlou part II, no use of y/n or physical descriptions, dual POV, reader has (had) an older brother 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 8840k

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After the events of TLOU Part II, Ellie packs up her life in Austin, Texas to head to Boston with a single goal- finally giving Tess the burial she deserves.

You cross her path (she crosses yours, rescuing you) along the way, and you find that you're headed the same direction.

The rest is history.

a/n: hello!!! welcome to the fic! this was a request by a lovely anon, and what was meant to be a one shot has quickly devolved into a nine part story. please mind the tags with this one, as we hop into some pretty rough themes/mindsets!  I'm so excited to begin posting this, and I hope that you all enjoy ♡

link to the original request : ̗̀➛ master post

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ save/read this on ao3 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Chapter One

APRIL

Ellie doesn’t realise it’s been a year until she’s sitting down on the porch of her little house in Austin, rifle spread out in front of her, disassembled.

The call of a bird in the trees above her, so close to a baby’s cry, makes her heart race as she looks into the yard, searching for JJ; searching for the danger.

But he’s not there. He’s in Jackson, with Dina.

It doesn’t happen often anymore, relapsing back and forgetting where she is, but sometimes when she’s calm and her brain is blessedly empty, sick and cruel memories will sink their feral teeth back into her—dragging her down and making her spiral all over again.

The barrel of the rifle tumbles from her trembling hand, the one two digits down that she swears she can still feel. It clatters to the floor, rolling and threatening to bounce down the steps.

“Fuck—” Her hands come up, gripping and pulling on the hair at the back of her head as she curls up on the porch, knees pressed to her chest, eyes wide and staring down at the swirls and knots of the wood beneath her.

A year. A whole year since the screen door of the farmhouse creaked and snapped closed behind her.

April. Spring. Welcoming the new lambs in, spending the days helping Dina with the garden, nights on the porch just like this, music drifting through the open window as she plays with JJ, shirt covered in drool as he teethes. Doing everything she can to forget—

To forget this time two years ago, when she was in Seattle. Forget Jesse, Abby, Joel.

And as she sits there, thinking and mourning and spiralling with her head in her hands, she realises that the hospital all those years ago was April too, wasn’t it?

April.

Why is it always fucking April? Ellie would give anything in the entire world to never live through another April ever again.

And she’s thought about it—what she would do. What she’d be willing to give up. It’s not like she has much left, like she has anyone waiting for her in this house so far away from where she dared call home. Anyone missing her or thinking about her while she’s gone--

But she can’t. Because too many people have died for her to be where she is now; and the guilt of that lies the heaviest, heavier than the one of existing in the first place.

So instead, she uses the heels of her palms to scrub roughly at her face, rubbing the tracks of silent tears off her scarred and freckled skin, telling herself to “get it together, Ellie.”

Ellie let’s herself have thirty more seconds. Half a minute to feel and mourn and crave what she’s lost before she straightens her back, picks up the rifle barrel and gets back to work.

Pushing the thoughts from her mind how she’s learned to.

⸙

They stick around this time, thoughts thick and dark and oozing along the back of her mind. Just like they used to before she figured out how to stop caring. To repress and forget, march forwards and never look back.

Like father like daughter, she supposes.

She blames it on the time of year, this cursed month that has haunted her for seven years, the majority of her teenage life and those of her twenties. It’s clinging to her back, and she just can’t stop thinking.

She thinks about people who she’s pushed so far down, it hurts to rip them back up again. People like her mom.

Her mom who she didn’t even know yet haunts her every day—in the way she looks through the window into the backyard of the house she’s claimed as her own, reflection ghosting back at her and making her think ‘Do I look like you? The way JJ looks like Jesse?’

Ellie sighs, hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as she forces herself to look away, into the worn and weathered dining room beyond.

She’s been here since December, a tiny house in some part of Austin, Texas; a ghost town that’s long been abandoned. She came here after everything, after Santa Barbara, having no other direction in her head than Texas.

It’s where Joel used to live-- before. She knew that from the times he spoke about it, the promises of showing her one day that he never kept.

She used to feel stupid coming here, like she didn’t have any reason to. She wasn’t part of his life back then, didn’t know him when he was Joel Miller, father and contractor.

But she knew him when he was Joel, the man who walked a country for her. Someone she could have called dad if she wanted to but never found the courage until after he died in front of her-- and this, Texas, is the closest she’ll be to him ever again.

She walked for five months, including a temporary stop in Salt Lake City. She didn’t know exactly where Joel lived, any details he might have divulged forgotten with time or thrown away when she barely held interest for him, so she finds somewhere quiet and stays.

Ellie’s barely done anything with it. She boarded up the worst of the damage and did her best to insulate during winter, but a majority of the house she’s left closed off and unused. She’s been camping out in the living room, having dragged furniture and mattresses into the space to make it her own.

She stopped when she found the bones under one of the beds, curled up and forgotten.

Ellie lets her eyes drift back to the window, forcing past her reflection and to the lawn of the backyard, the wild reclaiming it years ago. She doesn’t tend to it, not really, though she keeps that back corner somewhat clear. Out of respect, or a semblance of it.

Three crudely made crosses-- something she made when she couldn’t sleep one night during winter-- stick out of the ground there. Only one of them has a mound in front of it, the blank cross for the bones she found.

The other two are clustered together, rough carvings of names marking the wood.

Riley and Anna.

She would have made more, a memorial of all the people she’s forsaken, but it didn’t feel right to drag them here when they already have resting places of their own.

Jesse and Joel have beautiful graves out in Jackson, headstones she’ll probably never get to sit at ever again.

Sam and Henry are out in Pittsburgh, under a maple tree where her and Joel buried them all those years ago.

Marlene has a grave in Salt Lake City. Ellie saw it when she went back to the hospital, finding a whole bunch of them out in a courtyard she’d never seen before. (She spent a long time there, sitting next to Marlene. Afterwards she searched, not stopping until she found the grave for ‘Gerald ‘Jerry’ Anderson— Devoted father and our best hope’, and she spent a long time there too.)

And Tess…

Tess is still in Boston, in that building where they left her.

It makes her skin crawl thinking about it, and god does she think about it. Tess’s bones sprawled across the tiles where she lay after she was riddled with bullets.

Was she even still there? Did they get rid of her, take her and those Fireflies that were dead when they arrived out the back and burn them in a terrible heap? Did FEDRA care enough to bother?

Ellie’s regretted so many things in her life, has had so many people die because of her and what she used to represent—but at least they’ve been put to rest, even though they’re still so impossibly loud in her mind.

And she knows she can’t get to Riley, trapped in that fucking mall in the arcade where Ellie, sobbing and bleeding from the arm, dragged her best friend she killed twice— knowing she would have liked it a whole lot better in here than in that stupid Halloween store. She doesn’t know what happened to her mom or where she could possibly be, but Ellie knows enough to realise there’s nothing she can do about it.

It's why she made the crosses, giving them a place to rest knowing it’s impossible to do anything more.

But Tess—

Ellie hangs her head, fingernails splintering as she grips the counter tighter, eyes closed as she thinks of that domed building—Tess’s mausoleum.

She needs to go to Boston.

⸙

It doesn’t take Ellie long to pack her life up into the backpack she’s had since she was thirteen. She truly doesn’t have much, mostly just her clothes and weapons. She indulges herself and keeps a few items that aren’t tied to her survival; things she hasn’t been able to let go that sit in the bottom of her bag. Joel���s watch, Dina’s bracelet, a stack of trading cards, and her journal. They take up hardly any space, so she doesn’t feel bad about the room that could have been used for more important things, like food and ammunition.

She puts the house back the way she found it-- out of respect or something, she’s not too sure. The only thing she leaves behind are the locks of hair she cuts from her head, the ends choppy but now barely brushing the collar of Joel’s flannel.

It makes her a little emotional, leaving this place. A small tug in her heart, something pulling and pleading for her to just stay. This is the most she has, a place she can call her own. Something stable.

God, does she want stable, but she also needs to do this. This is one of the only things she has left that she can fix. The others feel far beyond her.

Ellie planned her route the night before, laying out a map on the wooden floor of the living room, pencil in hand and journal in her lap. She knew she wasn’t close to Boston, but being nearly two thousand miles away shocked her a little bit. That was the optimistic number too, assuming that roads would be clear, and she didn’t run into any detours. Knowing Ellie’s luck, she’d be lucky if she got there before winter, a good eight months away.

She writes down her plan in her journal, taking over one of the empty back pages. It’d be much more convenient to take her notes on the map itself, but she refuses to make that mistake twice.

Ellie hitches her backpack onto her back, freshly cleaned rifle strapped and sitting against her left shoulder, bow slung over the same one. Joel’s revolver, also recently cleaned, sits snug in a holster clinging to her thigh, switchblade in her back pocket.

She hasn’t fully kitted up like this in weeks, not needing to after finding that person’s bunker the next town over. She almost felt bad taking as much as she did, stuffing her bag and an old duffel with as many tins and cans as she could take. She doubted anyone had been there in years—but if they had?

Well, it’s a dog-eat-dog world, out here.

Ellie takes a breath, holds it until her lungs burn and her eyes water and savours the that moment of light-headedness then let’s go, stepping off the porch and letting the door shut behind her as she leaves; an all too familiar feeling.

She heads north, cutting up across the country.

First stop, Dallas.

⸙

It takes just over a week on the road before something inevitably goes wrong.

Ellie had been doing fine. She always does. She’s not new to this kind of travel-- hunting and scavenging, camping out under the stars or cramped into corners with her rifle in her hands. As much as she misses Jackson, the farm, and sometimes even her dorm in that shitty FEDRA school, there’s something about being out here that feels right to her.

It reminds her of that year with Joel. When she was fourteen and trusting this man who wanted nothing to do with her with her life, and then somewhere along the way he had taken her in as his own. It reminded her of learning how to shoot, of a thousand games of I Spy, serious nods as she explains the volume of Savage Starlight she just read and what she thinks happens in the gaps of the volumes she doesn’t own.

She realises that no amount of safety and security, high walls and locked doors, would ever make her feel as welcomed or soothed as these open roads.

It makes her sick to think about it.

Ellie was only a couple of days out of Dallas, standing in the last city she’d hit before then. The roads ahead of her were littered with traffic, hundreds of cars left abandoned to rust for the rest of eternity. Rubble from collapsed buildings block alleys and side streets, creating craters in the pavement below where they’ve fallen. Bodies, gaunt and skeletal, decorate the footpaths beneath her feet, tattered clothes bleached by the sun and fluttering in the wind.

The sun above her was low, sliding behind towering buildings and painting the sky in reds, pinks, and purples. Ellie would have to get inside before it gets too dark to see, her flashlight only making her a sitting duck in the middle of this unfamiliar road.

She can be reckless, but she’s not stupid.

So, she sticks to buildings, climbing through open windows and sneaking through propped open doors. There’s infected about, because when is there not, but they’re just stragglers—not worth the time or risk. Ellie is slippery, sneaky, her weathered converse that are worse for her feet than boots but infinitely quieter making no noise as she crawls.

The office building is where it all goes to shit.

To be fair, she didn’t realise what kind of building it was when she snuck in, stepping through the door to the fire escape and creeping up the stairwell. She only wanted to reach the top floor, make her way to the roof so she can get a better view of the city from above, but the top stairwell was blocked with desks, cabinets, and even part of the ceiling before she could get there.

Ellie retreats inside, through the door closest to her, pausing when she sees the rows of office cubicles moulding away in front of her.

“Oh, come on,” she curses, turning on her heels, trying to backtrack and leave the way she came, but the door slams shut before she can slip through, vibrations rattling the doorframe.

A low, metallic groaning muffles through the wood, Ellie cautiously stepping back. The groaning gets louder, reaching its peak before making a series of loud thuds, ending in one final crash against the door.

Ellie blinks, staring at the fire escape, her way out.

“No fucking way, dude…”

She tries the handle, and while it turns, it barely budges as she pushes on it. She tries over and over, shouldering the wood to try and get the thing open even just a little bit, enough for her slip through.

No luck.

“Shit,” she groans, pitching her head forward to hit against the wood a few times.

Ellie hates offices. Too many floors, too many places for things to hide. It’s practically a death sentence walking into one. She’s never had a good experience in one of these buildings, and she has a sneaking suspicion that her luck isn’t about to change.

Ellie pushes herself from the door, leaning down to unclip her revolver from the holster on her thigh. “Okay,” she breathes, turning around and assessing the room. “You’re good. Just gotta find a way out of here…”

Adjusting her grip on the gun, she begins a careful sweep of the room, watching every step she takes as she walks across the office floor with a precision that has been drilled into her.

There’s row after row of cubicles in the centre floor, private offices and meeting rooms shooting off to the side. She doesn’t bother with any of these, wanting to just get the fuck out of here before it gets too dark.

Thankfully, on the other side of the room is a stairwell, one for public use that is blessedly free from doors that will slam shut behind her and trap her inside.

Ellie sighs with relief, pressing onwards with her revolver held out in front of her, sticking close to the wall as she approaches the stairwell. She does a quick sweep before she enters, checking the floor above and below for anything before continuing.

She takes the steps one at a time, watching her feet. She barely makes it down the first flight when she hears it.

It’s faint, muffled, but echoes up through the empty stairwell. A thump, thumpthump, thump—like something hitting a wall, maybe a door. Ellie curses, a quiet “Fuck,” under her breath as she pauses to listen.

The sooner she can get out of here, the better.

The further down Ellie gets, the louder the noise becomes. The thumping is soon joined by low croaking, the familiar screeches and clicks of a clicker on high alert.

She holds her breath as she gets closer, clinging close to the wall, hoping to god that she can just keep going down these steps and—

“You’re kidding me,” she groans under her breath.

The stairway ahead of her, just as she rounds the corner, is blocked. Desks, chairs, cabinets, half the goddamn office. It’d almost be impressive if it wasn’t ruining her life right now.

The only way forwards is through the doorway to Ellie’s right which leads into another office, but it’s in here that the noises are the loudest; the banging, the clicking, the croaking cry of something else.

Ellie retreats until her back is pressed into the corner, crouching over her backpack to breathe and take stock of what she has. She’s not doing too bad on ammunition, both guns fully loaded for the time being. She’s also got a handful of arrows left—six to be exact—thanks to a resupply a few towns over.

From the noises alone she knows there’s two, maybe three infected in there. Most likely all clickers.

She can do this, if she’s careful.

Swinging her pack over her shoulders, she sticks low to the ground, creeping back to the doorway. Her fingertips graze the ground as she leans forward, peeking into the room.

The first thing she notices is how empty it is, the first row or so of cubicles missing their desks and chairs. Deep ridges rip the carpet, a series of drag marks marking the path of each piece of furniture as it was pushed down the stairs.

This was done recently, Ellie notes, the carpet where the desks once stood pristine and free of thirty years of dirt and grime.

The next thing she notices is the body.

It’s mildly fresh, a couple of days old at most, sprawled out on the carpet, a deep brown puddle of festering blood soaking beneath him. It’s a man, mouth agape and eyes open, foggy irises staring right at Ellie.

She stops breathing, throat closing as she stares back at him, his face swollen and horrifically bloodied, the side of his skull caved in, his greying hair plastered to his face, thick with blood and brain and—

She splutters, gulping in air as she retreats, pressing her back to the wall once more. Her eyes are wet yet impossibly dry, so she blinks and scrubs hard with her palm heels until she can’t see anymore, black spots blurring her vision.

“It’s not him. It’s not him,” she murmurs, hands shaking as she pulls them away from her face.

Ellie swallows, waiting for it to feel like she’s not going to throw up before she crawls back to the entryway, forcing herself to peer back inside.

The man on the carpet is young, older than her but not by much. The bullet hole in his cheek tears the skin open, a gnarly flap of it hanging down his face. The skin is mottled with blues and green, spidery veins that creep up from his neck and eyes, broken capillaries typical with the freshly turned.

He was barely infected before he was shot.

Question is, who the fuck shot him?

Ellie’s eyes flick up, desperately ignoring the way her breaths are still uneven, hitching softly in her throat. A remnant of her moment of weakness.

Across the room and right up the back, not one, but two clickers throw themselves at a door, some sort of supply closet. They’re agitated by something on the other side, screeching and snapping at the wood. Whatever it is has their full attention; they’re not stopping any time soon.

Opposite this door, settled on the other wall is the fire escape, a single desk piled high with chairs and wastebaskets and who knows what else barricading it to all hell.

What is going on?

Ellie holsters her revolver, reaching a trembling hand up to unhook the bow from her shoulder. She fumbles with it in her left hand, adjusting her grip a few times as she raises to stand to her full height, stepping slowly into the doorway.

She had to completely relearn how to handle the bow after she amputated her fingers. She had to relearn a lot, actually, more than she was expecting. She’s forever grateful that it was her left hand, and that it wasn’t any of the more important fingers like her index or thumb—but it impacted her life in ways she never even thought about.

She’s still figuring out the guitar.

Ellie takes a step closer, pulling an arrow from her pack and notching it on the bowstring. She pulls it back with one fluid movement, holding her hand up to her cheek as she aims, focusing on the back of one of the agitated clickers.

She knew that this was risky, that this would most likely alert the other, and that she’d need to act fast. Drop the bow, take out her revolver, and run. But there’s the smallest chance that whatever is in that closet is distracting enough that it won’t care, and she can take both down no problem.

She draws in a breath, letting it all out slow through barely parted lips as her fingers twitch around the notch of the arrow.

Multiple things happen at once.

Ellie let’s go, the arrow sailing smoothly through the air and burying in the back of the clicker’s head with a sickening crunch of fungus and cartilage. A strangled croak leaves the creatures throat as it falls, crumbling to its knees and slumping against the door. The arrow sticks right out the back of its skull, a perfect shot. She’ll be able to grab that, later.

The clicker next to it pauses, just for a fraction of a second before whatever the hell is on the other side of that door brings it attention back, continuing to gnash and slam against the wood.

At the same time, a gnarled croak and rapid footsteps from behind make Ellie spin on her heels, turning around just in time to hold her arms up to block the strike of a stalker that lunges right for her.

She falls back, dropping her bow and taking the stalker with her as she lands on her back, head knocking to the side as she grapples. The dead guy is next to her, and his cloudy eyes meet hers for just a moment before she has to pull herself away, bracing against the creature atop of her. It’s sat up enough to swipe at her, swinging it’s arms down to claw at her raised arms.

“Fucking—Get off me!”

Ellie grunts with effort, planting her feet on the ground and using the leverage from her pack to push, rolling both the stalker and her over. It’s still crying out, teeth gnashing as she straddles it, one hand pressing down on its concave chest as she fumbles around her thigh for her revolver. She has to keep ducking and shifting away from it’s gnarled hands, jagged nails split and yellow swiping up at her face and arms.

A screech, sharp and piercing from the other side of the room raises the hairs on the back of Ellie’s neck, eyes widening as she whips her head up. Her scuffle has alerted the clicker by the closet, and she can do nothing but watch as it twitches and lurches to face her.

“Oh fuck—”

Ellie finally gets a grip on her revolver, cocking the hammer and pressing the barrel right between the stalker’s eyes, firing. The sound is deafening up close, a high-pitched whine muffling her hearing. The creature under her shudders with a dying croak, and Ellie can’t get away from it quicker, pushing herself up until she falls back on her ass. Legs scramble in front of her, pushing and crawling until she backs up into the wall behind her.

The clicker is rapidly approaching, arms winding madly and head twitching from side to side.

The wooden handle of the revolver creaks under Ellie’s grip, hand clenched tight as she cocks the hammer and aims, shooting up at it. It misses the head, hitting it right in the middle of the throat in a spray of black and brown. The creature gasps, faltering just enough for Ellie to push herself up off the floor and run, sprinting to the other side of the room to give her space to breathe and think.

She can do this. She’s done this for years. She just needs to focus.

Focus, Ellie. Focus.

She unlatches the cylinder, taking note of how many shots she has left. Four. She could pull out the rifle if she needs, but the room is far too small and the clicker is far too close for it to be safe.

Better make each of these shots count, then.

The creature is persistent, having gotten over the shock of the bullet through its throat. It charges towards Ellie as she fires once more, breaths heaving her chest, a spray of chitinous fungus exploding from the side of its head.

She has no time to celebrate, pulling back the hammer once more as she stumbles back, putting a desk between her and the clicker. She aims, doesn’t hesitant for a second as she fires, hitter the fucker square between what used to be its eyes.

It screams, a chittering, croaking wail, and Ellie winces as she watches it spin, stumbling and falling to the ground in a heap.

“Yeah,” Ellie breathes out, chest rising and falling with her panting breaths. “That’s right.”

She collapses against the desk, pressing her hands to the surface, hanging her head down so her chin meets her chest. Her whole body hurts— the back of her head aches from where she knocked it, blood flows down her arms from the stalker scratches.

Too close.

A noise, a soft thump from nearby has Ellie tensing, grip tightening on the revolver as she whips her head up, scanning the room.

Nothing. Well, nothing alive at least. She’s the only breathing thing left in here, and with the stairs and fire escape blocked she doesn’t know where else—

She hears it again, a soft thump followed by a long, low sound, muffled and interrupting her thoughts. It sounds like it’s coming from nearby, through the wall.

Like the closet.

Shit, Ellie thinks, eyes dragging towards the door, dead clicker still slumped against the wood. Was this what was setting those clickers off?

She pushes herself off the desk, wrapping her other palm around the revolver as she drifts to the wall closest to her, covering her back. She only has two bullets left in the cylinder, so she takes the couple of seconds of approach to reload.

The closer she gets, the clearer the sound starts to become. It’s a low cry… human. Like a sob.

With a foot to the back, Ellie grabs the arrow from the back of the dead clickers head, the one keeled over against the door, and pulls. It dislodges with a sickening crunch and sucking noise, and she uses the momentum of her foot to shove the body out of the way of the door. It slumps, thudding to the ground and rolling over on itself.

The rhythmic heaving of choked sobs drifts through the wood, making Ellie’s gut twist uncomfortably.

She could just go. She’s dealt with the issue, done whoever was on the other side of this door a major solid. She doesn’t need to involve herself more, throw herself into danger. Infected are unpredictable and fast, bodies strong and jaws stronger.

Humans can plan, deceit and lie. Hold weapons. Shoot.

She cocks her revolver.

“Hey,” Ellie calls out. Shit, she’s rusty, voice crackling around the edges from disuse. She hasn’t spoken properly in weeks, speaking only in murmurs or yells and nowhere in between. She swallows, wetting her throat. “You can come out, now.”

The sobs on the other side cut off with a sharp gasp, replaces with the shuddering pants of someone in a panic. A hiccup.

“I-I don’t…”

The sobs begin again, clawing their way out of the person’s raw throat.

Ellie sighs, chewing the inside of her cheek as she glances at the clicker on the ground, black blood and remnant brain matter leaking from the hole in its head.

“They’re dead. I took care of it.”

Nothing. Just more crying.

She seriously should just leave. The fire escape is right there; all she needs to do is move the desk out of the way, then she’ll be free.

Her gaze flicks to the side, to her freedom, then back down to the handle of the door.

“Are you trapped in there? Is this thing locked?” A hesitant hand rests on the handle but doesn’t turn it.

Those shuddering breaths, the wracking sobs from within continue. Why is she still even here? This isn’t any of her business.

The noises stop.

Ellie pauses, a frown twitching the edge of her lips, scar tugging uncomfortably at the skin. Unease curdles in her twisting gut; she presses her ear against the wood.

Sharp inhales, a shuffling of feet against carpet, ragged wheezing as they try desperately to suck in air.

Fuck.

Ellie steps back, fingers of the clicker on the floor crunching under the heel of her converse. Her lip is pulled between her teeth, chewing on the already torn skin as she looks between the closet and her escape.

“Shit, okay.” Dragging a hand through her hair, pushing the greasy strands out from her face as she thinks. “Uh, I’m coming in,” she calls to the person inside, pressing down on the handle.

It’s unlocked. She can feel the way her heart thunders behind her ribs, the way it vibrates through her veins and makes her hand tremble. As much as she wants to believe it’s from the rush of the kill, the adrenaline, she can’t ignore the chill of fear that settles like a block of ice in the bottom of her stomach.

Ellie pushes the door open, revolver at the ready.

A shot rings out in the small space and Ellie ducks, covering her head with her bloodied arms. It goes wide, missing her by at least a foot as plaster from the ceiling rains down on her. She swears, pushing her back against the wall next to the doorway, quickly swiping debris from her eyes.

Ellie’s trembling hand clasps around the other over the handle of her revolver, arms extended and pointing at the floor. She can feel her breathing getting sharper, shallower, and forces herself to get it together, breathing in deep through her nose to be rid of her light-headedness.

The fire escape taunts her, lopsided barricade making it impossible for her to retreat. She should have just left. Why didn’t she just fucking leave?

She waits for just a few more seconds, waiting for whoever was inside to act first. Nothing. Nothing except for those choked, wheezing gasps that she’s more familiar with than she’d ever like to be.

Revolver out in front of her, Ellie turns round the doorway. Her finger ghosts the trigger, ready to fire at whatever she finds inside.

Fire at you.

“I-I’m sorry—” you wheeze, chest heaving and shuddering as Ellie blocks the light flooding into the closet, silhouetting her from behind. A pistol, black and sleek, trembles in your hand that lays fallen against the floor by your thigh. The other is clawing at your throat, where you’ve started to turn red from the strain of not breathing.

Ellie sweeps the closet from top to bottom, eyes flicking over shelves of copy paper and boxes of pencil before focusing back on you, trembling on the ground.

“Put the gun down,” she barks, her own unwavering of its aim at your head.

You listen, hand letting go of the pistol to come up to your shirt, gun clattering to the floor as you tug and pull at the fabric that feels too tight around your throat.

“I can’t—I had to, I-I’m so fucking sorry—”

Ellie knows this. She’s lived this. She can practically feel it as she watches you, clinging and clawing and begging. Maybe that’s why she does what she does next-- a weak moment of sympathy she’ll tell herself later.

She lowers her revolver and steps into the room.

“Breathe. You need to breathe.”

Okay, Captain Obvious. As if you didn’t already know that.

“Can’t—” you gasp, eyes red with the strain, glassy and looking so far into the distance, further than the walls of this room would allow.

“You have to.” She changes her grip on the gun, holding her left hand out, what’s left of her pinkie and ring finger twitching. “Just take a deep breath, as deep as you can, and hold it.”

She waits for you to do as she says, eyes focused on the hitching of your chest as you try so desperately. Your eyes flutter closed, fists clenched tight as you draw in an admittedly weak breath, but it’s the deepest one you’ve had in a while.

“Good. Slowly breathe out-- nice and easy.” Ellie steps closer, revolver pointed to the ground, hand out like she’s approaching a wounded animal.

Nodding, you hiss out the air in your lungs in one, long, stuttering breath. Your whole body is wound tight, and tears still stream down your dirty cheeks, but your sobs quiet as you breathe.

Ellie approaches as close as she dares, sticking a foot out to kick the pistol away from you, the gun clattering as it skids across the closet floor. With it out of the way, she slowly lowers to a crouch, forearms resting on her knees as she looks at you.

Frankly, you look like shit. Everyone these days does, but you especially so. Your clothes are caked in brown blood and dirt, the sleeve of your shirt ripped and dangling onto your shoulder by a thread.

Your cheeks have that sunken look to them, the one people get when they haven’t eaten in days, and your quivering lips are chapped and cracking, blood oozing from where it splits open.

A spray of blood has dried on your face, your silent tears running muddy tracks through the gore.

Ellie’s eyes linger on the deep red mark at your temple. A perfect circle, likely to bruise. She flicks a quick glance to the discarded gun, then back to you.

“What’s your name?” She asks when she thinks you can handle it, breaths evening out.

You don’t look up at her, haven’t since she’s walked in, focused too hard on something else, somewhere else. Your name tumbles from your lips, and Ellie nods.

“Ellie,” she offers, barely willing to give it up.

Hesitantly, she holsters the gun back on her thigh, fingers twitching. She’s careful not to take her eyes off you, watching those hands that have loosened around your shirt and throat.

Ellie carefully shoulders off her bag, unzipping and reaching for her canteen. Undoing the cap, she holds it out to you.

“Drink.”

You swallow, mouth thick with dehydration, looking up for the first time. Your eyes flick to the canteen, then drag slowly up to Ellie. The shadows of your face are deep, and there’s a broken blood vessel in the corner of your right eye.

She gestures out again, water sloshing in the container.

You look back down, trembling hands hesitantly reaching out and taking it, pressing the plastic to your bloodied lips. The moment a drop of water touches your tongue you start guzzling the whole thing, drinking quick.

“Hey—whoa!” Ellie reaches for you, grabbing your arm to pull it back. You flinch and stare at her with frightened eyes, gasping as you take a fresh breath, a trickle of water running down the corner of your mouth.

Ellie removes her hand.

“You’ll throw up if you’re not careful.”

You blink, looking back down at the canteen, pulling it up for another sip, this time a lot more careful.

You both sit there as you get your fill, drinking all her water. Ellie doesn’t mind. She’ll fill it again once she leaves.

“Your arms are bleeding.”

It startles her a bit, your voice clearer, yet still croaked through the strain, louder than she’s heard it yet.

She shrugs, dismissing you. “I’ll deal with it later.”

She watches as you polish off the canteen, tilting you head back as you wait for the last drops to coat your tongue.

“Were you the one who barricaded the stairs?” Ellie reaches for the canteen when you offer it, gripping onto the container until the last second as if you’ll never have another opportunity to drink after this. She buries it back in her pack.

“My brother.” You tone is flat—tired. The exhaustion has crept up on you, sapping all of your emotions away.

Ellie thinks to the man on the floor.

“Is he…” she trails off, not knowing how to ask, eyes falling to the doorway.

“Dead.”

Ellie nods. “Infected?”

Your head drops, gaze focused on the dirty nails of your hands cradled in your lap. “We were getting chased. He barricaded us in so we could hide, but we were so focused we didn’t realise—” your voice cracks, coming out quieter when you continue. “I shot him. In the head. I didn’t want to, I promise, but he started shaking and this stuff was coming out of his mouth and his eyes were all weird and he just started running towards me and I couldn’t—”

“Hey.” Your eyes snap up to hers, your panicked rambles dying on your tongue. Ellie swallows, thick and unsure as you hold contact, looking into your eyes. Eyes she’s seen so many times in herself, caught in flashes as she passes her reflection.

She can’t bring herself to tell you that what happened isn’t your fault, because if she’s being honest, she doesn’t know. She has no idea who you are or how you came to be here, and at the end of the day you pulled that trigger and your brother is rotting into the carpet just a few feet away. That guilt will haunt you forever, no matter how much you try to come to terms with it. So, she doesn’t say that.

“You did what you had to.”

You look away, back down to your hands, blood marring the skin.

Sympathy twinges within her like a plucked guitar string, vibrating along her skin. She tries to shove it away, to not let herself feel too much for a stranger who was about to end it all in a supply closet.

But she can’t help it, and she finds herself unzipping the largest pocket of her pack, taking out a protein bar and a tin of beans and placing them on the floor next to her.

There. She’ll leave these here, and that’ll be it. Guilt cured.

She stands, hauling her pack over her shoulders once more. Your eyes follow the action, the movement of her hands, but you make no move to say or do anything.

Ellie steps back, looking to the doorway then back to you, alone in the middle of the floor.

“I’m gonna unlock the fire escape. You’ll be able to get out that way, but I’d wait until sunup.”

She waits for a response, a nod or a murmur, and when she doesn’t get one she steps out, leaving you behind in the closet.

Your brother did a pretty decent job with the barricade. Ellie really has to push for the desk to move, legs catching on the carpet, everything stacked on top rattling as she pushes and shoves. She doesn’t bother with moving it completely out of the way, forearms stinging too much for her to try, so she does just enough for her and her pack to wriggle through.

“Ellie.”

Her body freezes, caught between the door as she’s stepping through the gap. Hearing her name spoken by another person for the first time in weeks… She doesn’t like how it makes her feel. That trickle of warmth, the intimacy that comes with knowing a name. It’s enough to make her stop and listen and she wants nothing more than to leave.

She turns her head, looking back at you.

You stand just past the doorway of the closet, crumbs stuck to your bottom lip and down the front of your shirt from the protein bar, tin of beans clutched tight to your chest. You cradle it as if it were your child, something precious. Your eyes meet Ellie’s, guilty and apprehensive and so fucking tired.

You swallow, tongue wetting your lips.

“ I can’t… I don’t have a can opener.”

𖧧

You can barely taste the beans with the way you’re shovelling them in your mouth, already scooping up the next spoonful before you swallow the first. You should feel ashamed or self-conscious for the way you’re eating, no doubt making some kind of mess, but you’re much too hungry to care.

The woman in front of you— Ellie— says nothing about your lack of manners, tending to the fire between you, instead.

Ellie has hardly said a word to since leading you out from the office building you were trapped in, telling you to keep quiet and follow her lead before exiting back out onto the road. The setting sun was blinding after so long in the dark, and you had to take a second and make her wait for you to adjust before you could continue on.

She’s quick on her feet, battered converse barely making a noise as she leads you out across the city, ducking in and out of side streets and over fences in backyards. She’s difficult to keep up with, though there’s some part of you that makes you think that this was her trying to be slow, giving you a chance to match pace.

You should maybe care more about being led away by a stranger into the dark, but at this point you can’t really find it within you to care. Besides, if she wanted to kill you, she would have done it there and then back in the closet, revolver in hand and pointed at your skull.

You end up settling in a park, deep within a crop of trees. Ellie works silently and independently, leaving you to stand and watch along the sidelines as she builds a small fire. She’s quick, practiced, and you find yourself sitting against a tree with an open tin of beans warming your tingling hands before you can let the doubts of being out here with her get to you.

“When was the last time you ate?”

The spoon hangs out of your mouth when she asks, low voice making you pause. You suck the sauce off the utensil and lick your lips, swallowing your mouthful. It’s the first proper thing she’s said to you since the office.

You should feel embarrassed, but you don’t care.

“A few days ago.” You dig back in, scraping the side of the tin to make sure you’re not missing a single drop.

Ellie makes a noise, something noncommittal in the back of her throat. She sits back on her knees with a sigh, dusting off her hands, brushing dirt from the bandages she’d applied after she’d given you something to eat.

“Is that how long you were stuck there?”

The food sours on your tongue, thick and fermenting. Your hand begins to tremble as you watch the red drip from your spoon, soaking and seeping into the ground below you, the clumps that decorate the carpet as he falls and—

“Yeah.” You swallow hard, throat clicking. You drop the spoon back in the tin, placing it shakily on the ground beside you. “The… The gunshot it—” You can’t find it within you to finish the sentence, to say out loud how you had to leave your brother there, twitching on the floor as those things tumbled down the steps, forcing you to lock yourself inside that room in the pitch black. You tried to keep track of the day/night cycles through the crack under the door, but all it did was confuse and upset you.

Ellie nods, planting her feet on the ground, resting her forearms on her knees. Her rifle sits across her lap, ready.

“I’m uh…” she starts, not looking at you. Her throat clears, easing some of the tension from her tone. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

It’s nice; a kind gesture. And you’re sure that under different circumstances that you would appreciate it more, thank her and let the sentiment comfort you… but you’re finding it difficult to.

“Me too.”

It’s silent for a while after that, the two of you sitting by the fire. She offers you another canteen of water, boiling and cooling down river water in the night air. You take it gladly, sipping at it much slower this time around, allowing yourself to savour it.

You spend this time observing Ellie, watching her scan her surroundings.

She’s littered in freckles and scars, not an inch of her skin untouched. There’s a noticeable silver scar slicing the tail off her right eyebrow, a similar one splitting her upper lip. It tugs at the skin when she talks, pulling it taught whenever she widens her mouth.

Blue-grey ink bleeds from underneath her bandaged arm, the tips of ferns peeking out as they curl around the back of her hand. You’ve seen people with tattoos before, but never anyone with something so delicate.

Her green eyes are constantly scanning the area around you, flicking from tree to tree, keeping watch like a dutiful soldier. She sniffs as she raises a hand, pushing back strands of her auburn hair from where they hang in her face.

“Where are you headed?”

The question has her snapping her eyes to you, calculating. Her lips twitch, jaw tensing as she thinks. She looks back down to her rifle.

“As far as I can get.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She says nothing, shuffling her converse into the dirt.

You draw your legs up to your chest, mimicking her body language as your hand fiddles with the sticks and leaves of the dirt beneath you.

“We’re headed to Massachusetts.” You pause, frowning. “I mean—We were heading there. I don’t uh… I don’t know what I’m doing now.” Your throat feels tight, eyes burning.

Ellie says nothing, watching you play in the dirt, picking up a stick and dragging it through the soil.

“Tom, my brother, he was taking me home to Grafton. I’ve never been there, but it’s where he was born. Where our parent’s lived, before everything.”

You don’t know why you’re telling her all this. Telling a stranger your life story. Maybe it just feels good to talk, to have someone breathing and alive acknowledge your presence. Not that this Ellie is much of a talker, just sitting there and listening.

You spear the stick in the ground. “He said he knew where the house was. That we could live there, like before.” The stick snaps, splintering in your hands; 35 Sinclair Street written into the dirt.

The wind picks up as the fire goes down, and you shiver, drawing your arms around your knees. Your shirt, ripped from where an infected had grabbed you, does barely anything to keep out the cold.

You don’t have anything but the clothes on your back. Your brother had the bag, the duffel full of your shared belongings, but he had to cut the strap off and dump it when he got caught by the infected that ambushed you, it tangling itself with him and the bag. That’s most likely when he got bit, that dreaded mark in the webbing between his thumb and pointer of his right hand.

You shiver again, but not from the cold.

You know you shouldn’t have, but you looked at him when Ellie led you out of that building. You’d felt him laying there the whole time you were trapped, festering and rotting into the carpet on the other side of the room, behind a wall of wood and monsters.

Was there any part of him left when you killed him? Was he stuck behind the haze of the infection, watching as you put that gun to his head and killed him? Did he forgive you? Know why you had to?

You’d begged for him to do the same for you, when things got bad and you were sure that it was going to be you who would leave him behind, not the other way around.

“Here.”

A bundle of fabric is thrown at you from across the fire, a grey plaid falling to the dirt by your feet.

She makes eye contact with you when you don’t pick it up, face impassive.

“You’re cold. Take it.”

You blink, looking down at the cloth and picking it up, shaking out the bundle. It’s a flannel, big enough for a man much taller and wider than yourself. A ‘J’ is messily stitched into the inside of the collar in white thread, where the tag should be.

“… Thanks.”

You tug it on, the thick material already making the cool night much more bearable. You have to roll the sleeves up slightly over your hands, but otherwise you button it up and curl right into it. It smells nice, the specific way flannels do when they’re worn in and loved. There’s something else, a faint trace of gunpowder and something spicy, hard to place.

The events of the day, of the past week catch up to you as you curl into the borrowed shirt. You so tired. Exhausted. It feels like you’re using all of your strength to keep your head up, your eyes open, your brain from shutting off.

You shift, lowering yourself to the ground, moving an arm to cushion your head in the dirt. It’s not unfamiliar to you, roughing it like this. You’re used to having your brother with you, the two of you taking turns in keeping watch. And though he’s not here now and never will be again, Ellie’s intense gaze on the trees around you makes you feel a similar way.

Your eyes are half lidded, watching the dwindling flames of the fire, light and shadows flickering on the ground beside it. It’s soothing, and you try your hardest to focus on it and not the thoughts clawing away at the back of your head, the ones that will no doubt make themselves known the second you fall asleep.

Ellie shifts, crossing her legs under her, hands still settled on the rifle. They twitch as she curls around it.

“I’m headed to Massachusetts, too.” You hear, quiet in the night. “Boston.”

You don’t pick your head up, but your eyes flick to hers, opening slightly wider. She’s staring out in the trees.

“I’ll be leaving at dawn.” She looks at you, just for a moment, then back to her post.

You don’t know this woman. You’ve barely spoken, yet you can tell there’s a whole lot going on in those eyes of hers, so incredibly sad and haunted.

But that look is familiar, and you see yourself in it when she looks at you, and you know, despite it all, that what she’s offered is an invitation.

You close your eyes, nodding into your arm.

“Dawn.”

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[daman19942]

TSR CC Recommendations: TS2 Lot Builders

Nobody asked for this but I have a little time on my hands and I said I might do it, so here is a list of some TSR lot builders who I recommend checking out. A few notes under the cut before we get started (all details under the cut, as well, in case you aren't interested in my preamble):

This is not meant to be paid promotion for TSR. I believe TSR asking users to pay for their CC is ridiculous, especially for a 19 year old game they haven't supported in 7 years. But I spent many years uploading there during the peak-TS2 / pre-TS3 era and know there is great CC in their archives that newer players may not know about. And unlike TheSims2.com, which has sadly shuffled off this mortal coil, TSR's content is still available to freely download (assuming you can stomach the pop-ups and wait times)

This post will only be about lot builders because that was what I was primarily uploading and downloading in this era. I was friendly with some of the creators I am about to list, but none of them are still active members of the TS2 community.

The preview pics might be a little rough and the architecture styles will likely feel very dated compared to the most popular styles these days, which are more colorful, cluttered, and use 3t2 and 4t2 conversions. Re: the previews: too many of us were using free trials of PaintShopPro back then, and TSR limited us to 2 previews, so we did our best. Re: the styles: unlike pre-2010's CAS CC, which was full of hand painted and "realistic" textures (LOL), these are the same objects you can find in the game today, just being used in different ways! Sometimes for the first time! And, yes, while some of these creators used CC, it was mostly Homecrafter walls and floors, as you'll see below.

This was also the hey-day of CFE lot building, which has certainly fallen out of favor to more traditional builds (in part because graphics cards have improved and these types of builds don't look as good in 2024, and also because the great CFE experimenters, builders, and tutorial writers are no longer part of the community and their original discoveries are gone as well - I am happy to go down a massive rabbit hole on this piece of TS2 history if anyone else cares, but trust me, you don't have to care).

Alright that is enough caveating, here are some recs! (Links are in the creator's names and they take you to their Lots, though many of them have other creations, too).

Lord Tiko Speaking of great CFE builders! Lord Tiko built spaceships, boats, pagodas, domes, windmills and bridges, oh so many bridges before retiring mid-TS2 because of health issues. He was one of the first builders to take Daihtnaoz7's single and double bridge tutorials and apply them to really big lots. I'm still not sure how he built the Venice Rialto Bridge, or his other European water lots. Overall, a massive inspiration to me when I was prioritizing CFE builds.

Hatshepsut My favorite "traditional" home builder, and someone I considered a friend. She specialized in English and American builds, and I had many of Hat's houses in my old saves and was impressed by her range and decorating style which was (for the time) more varied than many of her peers. Knew how to take great preview pics of her houses, too.

Tigerblue Another builder I corresponded with, Tigerblue was probably the least prolific uploader on this list for sheer number of uploads, but she also crossed a range of styles. Her builds leaned way into specific styles (see the previews, these were all part of consistent sets of 3,4, or even 10 lots), but this was also what happened when a new EP dropped and everyone raced to uploaded builds using as many of the new objects and styles as possible. Tigerblue just happened to be better at it than most of us.

Cyclonesue Do current TS2 players know Cyclonesue? Because it's hard to think of someone who had a bigger impact on building and decorating of the era, first with her English and Tudor builds and later with her extremely distinct grunge creations. Seriously, check out her Urban Renewal series and the corresponding objects. Iconic stuff that surely now feels frozen in time. I probably only played 20% of her lots that I downloaded, but they still make for great hood decor. Like Tiko, someone who happily experimented with CFE.

Illiana The creator who inspired me to make this list is, ironically, the one on it who I know the least about (she is a Featured Artist but not in the Hall of Fame, whatever that means). I just started playing her Tri-Annyas fraternity house and have a few other lots floating around my game. She built in a range of styles, from classical to modern to Twikki Island to grunge. Revisiting some of them in-game, the TSR previews do not do them justice.

*EXHALES* If you made it to this point, kudos to you. I'm sure there are creators I've forgotten, and houses I haven't linked to, but this is a good starting point for digging into some of the eclectic builds the TSR(chives) have to offer (I just coined that, is it clever? It is not). Maybe I'll do a Part 2 if people like this.

If you have any favorites of your own, let me know what I missed! And as I do with my old Exchange re-uploads, I am tagging @sims2packrat and @oldasscustomcontent for general TS2 history awareness!

[lilmissbacon]

Rotg world building — Thoughts and theories

This was originally just going to be a reblog to THIS post but then I ended up going down a rabbit hole of my thoughts and opinions, so it became too annoyingly long for peoples/my preference.

Most of the post really expresses how I've always viewed the world of spirits in Rotg. The only thoughts I'm not really a fan of is the idea of some spirits not having physical forms and just being like big storms. Because what's the point of humanoid spirits being invisible to humans if they have no physical forms to other spirits as well?

I never saw Jack talking to the wind as the wind being an active spirit, I saw it as him just being so lonely he'd pretend the wind was alive to not feel so alone. After all, he only addressed the wind 1 time, if it were an actual being I feel like it'd be addressed more than once. Especially when Jack needed to get out of Antarctica: why would he need to fix his staff to fly out if the wind could've just picked him up unless he was the one making the wind? And like the post linked above said, the comics are unofficial. They're cool and I love them but they're not canon.

I do love the idea of their being 2 generations of spirits. Pre-MiM and post-MiM where the legends of Gods and myths are tales of the original spirits mistaken for higher deities and distorted over time. After all MiM wasn't always there (at least in the books) so how were their seasons/seasonal spirits on earth before him unless they were just natural to earth?

Plus it's made apparent through Sandy's death in Rotg that spirits are not 100% immortal, just non-aging. I think there is an open window for spirits to come back like Sandy did, if an influx of enough people believe, Tinkerbell style. But after maybe a year or so, that window is closed, that spirit is full on dead and that spirit needs to be replaced to keep the world in balance. So there could've been hundreds of spirits that have been lost but then replaced by MiM. I also think only magic can kill spirits, since Jack managed to fall from like 300+ feet in the final battle and walk it off without so much as a limp. Like, it still hurt, he clearly felt the pain, but he could still run, jump, throw hands and everything. He only groaned like he tripped down a small set of stairs.

Guardians are the only ones who could die without belief due to the vow they take. I feel like that vow tying their lives to belief could've actively been like an insurance policy to insure that the Guardians stay true and keep doing their jobs to fulfill childhood. It may be controlling and borderline manipulative for MiM to make them do that but I'm sure we're all in agreement that he is pretty gray as a character in the movie when you really think about it. And I could even see where he's coming from with this idea. After all, who knows how many spirits he may have made thinking they were good people, only for them to go dark and become evil. I'm sure MiM would hold a lot of guilt whenever those bad spirits hurt others or even feel at fault for making these decent people, eventual villains. Besides the Guardians know they could die if they lose belief when they make the vow, so it's not like MiM tricked them, that's consented. The Guardians just forgot to tell Jack that.

Now, I always saw "Spirit Society" as all spirits know of each other and word always gets around when new ones are made. I don't think there's a hidden city or village (other than maybe Santoff Clausen if it's even still around. And only for some of them, it wouldn't be big enough for all spirits in my mind) but rather they make homes for themselves and just cross paths with each other all the time. Kinda like the countryside; everyone's homes are far apart, but you still see each other in stores or at work.

I'm not quite sure how the news and knowledge would spread between spirits so often unless they were either all huge gossips or had yearly meets or something. But you know what, I'd be willing to bet that there are a few "messenger" spirits similar to Hermes in Greek myth, that just fly everywhere, spreading word for other spirits to make sure everyone is in the loop.

In my mind, Bunny's aggression early in the movie was meant to kinda show how most spirits saw Jack. After all, he's the only one who didn't feel like he'd be super recluse due to his job as he's the only one who doesn't work all year-round.

Unless he's a complete hermit, what is he doing for the rest of the year other than going out and hanging with other spirits?

I think most spirits hate Jack for being a troublemaking spirit that honed the deadliest season. That could just be my angst fanfic brain making things up but why else would Jack be so desperate to look towards humans to connect with unless he has tried with other spirits who could see him and was only met with backlash?

'Cause I have seen a few people complain that the ending of the movie contradicted Jack's arc of wanting to be seen only to leave the few believers he'd finally made. But that was never the point. He has what I like to call a fake-out arc; where it's said he wants one thing but his actual goal is different. He asks why he can't be seen, he tries his best to get people to believe in him, but he's doing it in an effort to find a family.

He mentions how no one can see him but he's more devastated over why he was left alone. That's his main question in this scene. He doesn't outwardly ask why he's alone specifically, but asking MiM "why" just after he was looking so longingly at Jamie's family is clearly meant to insinuate that that is what he really wants. He may even be telling himself it's just to be seen because he's been alone for so long that he just wants the bare fucking minimum. That's why the end of Rotg is still satisfying despite leaving his new believers, because being seen was never truly the end goal, it was finding a family and he finally found that in the other Guardians.

He clearly believed that he couldn't be accepted by other spirits, so he looked to humans to find that connection and getting to be seen by them was just a first step towards that goal.

It's the same thing in Tangled (because I have encountered someone who thought Rapunzel was one-dimensional for just wanting to see lights 😮‍💨) Rapunzel sang and always told Gothel + Eugene that she just wanted to see the floating lights, but the moment she steps out of her tower she starts singing in exhilaration about how she can finally go running, dancing, jumping and splashing. She never even mentions the lights. It had nothing to really do with the lights, she just wanted to leave her tower and explore the world. Seeing the lanterns was just her externalized and internalized excuse because she wanted to feel less awful for going against her 'mother'. Her wanting to explore the world was then more blatantly explored in Tangled the Series.

Edit: Pitch even straight up mentions about longing for a family when trying to sympathize with Jack and it's that very line that makes Jack lower is guard. Not the line about not being believed in, longing for a family. Jack even looks super sympathetic for him.

After Pitch killed Sandy, after witnessing first hand the belief fading from all the kids around the world and being framed for Easter's failure, possibly ruining Jack's relationship with the Guardians, Jack still feels bad for Pitch in this moment. That's why Jack lets Pitch say his piece in this scene despite knowing that he was never going to join him (you can tell he was never buying into Pitch's words and Jack didn't hesitate to refuse). He was even willing to try and just walk away after refusing his offer rather than keep fighting. Because he understands that desperation of wanting to be loved by just being seen and/or heard.

That's part of what makes him such a good layered character: the fact that he always used mischief in an effort to try and be seen, similar to when kids act out to get their parents attention. It leads the other spirits to think that he's nothing more than a troublemaker (and even audience as well, the amount of mis-characterization I've seen people make of Jack, istg) when in reality he's actually a very respectful, emotional, sweet and even responsible person that does know when to stop being silly. Jack never played around when actual danger came around, the only time he did was a one quip to Sandy because he was nervous and in the final battle when he realized being funny takes away Pitch's control.

And even then it was brief, after the kids started turning the sand gold again, Jack went right back into serious battle mode.

Kinda shows how not really mischievous Jack truly is when it takes him so long to realize that being fun can weaken Pitch. Because he's not really a trickster, he doesn't even really pull many pranks, he's just playful. But he had been cranking that up to 11 for the past 300 years in an effort to be seen, he inadvertently kept deterring other spirits away, who may had already not liked him just for being an ice based spirit. After all, whenever Bunny wanted to take a stab at Jack it was either at his invisibility or for his ice. Granted that could just be because Bunny himself just doesn't like the cold or even strictly because Jack made that blizzard on Easter but then again, we never got to see that for ourselves. We don't know if Jack even did that on purpose or not.

Last note; I don't think any other spirits died to become spirits like Jack did. It's my personal headcanon that the reason Jack couldn't remember his past is because he's the only one who had actively died before MiM got the chance to turn him. Though for all we know there could be a few others who also forgot their pasts. If there are, Jack clearly never got the chance to ask.

The way this kinda diverged into a mini Jack Frost character analysis though 😅

[linatheweirdooo]

Don't hurt me

I wrote this fic on ao3 originally as a vent, but due to the positive reception I'm gonna post it here too :3 here's the link to it on ao3 if you wanna give it a kudos or reply or read any other stuff I wrote bc I don't plan on posting that much on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56567776/chapters/143770822#workskin

TW; implied S/A (it's hurt/comfort but the subject is mentioned and implied)

~~

It all happened so fast.

The sensation of water trickling down her synthetic skin, the studs of soap covering her body. It was a normal day, V just wanted to take a shower to clean herself off after an especially bloody hunt. Until she slipped.

Her entire frame collapsed onto the soapy ground, and her optics struggled to make out what was happening. Her processor overwhelmed with the sensory information from all fronts, it retorted to its only defense; to connect this situation to something familiar, something that has happened before.

In her disoriented state, instead of seeing the shower in her home, she saw a room in the old manor. And instead of feeling water slide down her hydrophobic shell, she felt hands. Hands that were distinctly human. Hands of the people whom she still can't remember the faces of, violating her. Touching her in places she shouldn't be touched, abusing parts of her body that are too sensitive for it.

This was stupid. She was a robot, she was a servant, why would she care if she was used? Wasn't that what she was made for? She shouldn't be whining.

Poisonous words from the person seemingly executing this echoed in her audio receptors. Even when it happened, V could bearly make out proper sentences.

V just yelled for them to get away, but her pleas proved vain when nothing changed.

Eventually, she succumbed to it, with only whimpers and muffled sobs with the occasional "stop" escaping her mouth.

~~

N was out today, which only left Uzi and V in their home, but the purple worker couldn't help but feel slightly worried by how long her girlfriend had been in the shower, she was usually quick.

But Uzi brushed it off. Maybe she's doing some self care for herself. V was responsible, they've known each other for a while now. Long enough to build a life with her and N.

That was until she heard V's voice, muffled by the walls of the bathroom and too far away from Uzi to make out any actual words. But why would V be yelling? There's nobody else in the house other than her, right?

Uzi panicked, but took a deep breath. She needed to stop assuming the worst all the time. So she calmly (albiet still quickly) walked up to the bathroom she was in and knocked on the door.

"V? You okay?"

No reply. At least, no reply that was directed at Uzi. It was hard to tell what she was saying, which worried her. Uzi does know V has a... complicated past... but even after getting together, she didn't talk about it more than she needed to. What if she was stuck in some kind of flashback?

No. No jumping to the worst case scenario. She'll just ask her again.

"V? Did something happen? Can I come in?"

No reply again. This was now a cause for concern, so Uzi opened the door, only to see her girlfriend on the floor of the shower sobbing and whimpering.

Immediately she ran up to V. But the disassembly drone sat up and made eye contact with Uzi.

Fear. The thought that V was even capable of the feeling had never even crossed Uzi's mind, but the hollow yellow rings that replaced her eyes were all that stared back her girlfriend.

V looked sad, tired, and scared, and while she has shown more emotion in front of her partners than she would to anyone else, this was different. It was raw, it was unfiltered, and it was heartbreaking. Her wet hair covered parts of her face and water was still pouring over her. She looked helpless.

"V?" Was all Uzi got to say before the disassembly drone tensed up and her endoskeleton started to shake. Pants and suppressed sobs were all that escaped the drone in front of Uzi, and when she tried getting closer, V cowered, pushing herself on the floor into the corner of the shower.

With her knees to her chin, one cone-shaped arm wrapped around her legs and the other in a protective position, hiding most of her face, V looked...vulnerable.

Noticing her girlfriend's reaction, Uzi moved backward. V must've thought she was someone else. Why else would she be this scared at the sight of her own girlfriend? Did Uzi do something?

V seemed to relax slightly, but she still looked like a helpless, terrified kitten in the rain. It hurt Uzi to see someone so important to her look like that. Only a year or two ago, Uzi would be scared of V, stating what she would think would be her final words if she crossed by any disassembly drone. Never in a million years did she ever entertain the idea of dating not one, but TWO of them. And now one of them is terrified of her.

As Uzi prepared to speak again, she heard V mumble something mixed with a sob. Uzi's audio receptors may not be as advanced as her girlfriend's, but she could make out a few words.

"Don't hurt me" were those words. The rest were lost to the sounds of whimpering and water from the shower hitting the floor, but Uzi's heart sank at the thought of what those words implied.

"V... it's me, Uzi"

It was a softer tone and volume, and it seemed to have worked as V relaxed a little bit and lowered her hand. However, she was still shaking and her eyes were still hollow.

Uzi leaned down to get on V's level, in an attempt to make her more comfortable. "it'll be okay" she comforted. Maybe it won't be, she had no way to tell, but it may help calm V down. She grabbed the towel V had hung on the hanger. "Can I get you out of here?"

V, still shaking and her eyes still hollowed, nodded. She didn't say anything, as if her voice were being held under a lock and key.

Uzi got into the shower and turned the water off as V stared at her, with digital tears hanging from the eyes displayed on her screen.

The worker drone reached out a tender hand to her girlfriend's cheek, which she immediately leaned into and closed her eyes.

Now that she was closer to V, the stress lines under them were more obvious, and as she brought back her hand, Uzi draped the towel over V like a blanket.

"Do you want me to dry you off or do you want to do it yourself?" Uzi asked in a loving tone.

V took a bit to respond, but she then replaced her eyes with text that read "I'll do it, but stay here" before adding on a "please".

Uzi nodded in response, and V blinked away the text as Uzi used one hand to interlace her fingers with V's and the other supporting her other arm, lifting it up and allowing V's limp body to stand at its full 5'11" height.

V took the towel that was hastly draped over her and wrapped it around herself after she had dried off the plastic and silicone that shielded her insides from the elements.

Uzi looked back at V once she was done but before Uzi got the chance to marvel at how beautiful her girlfriend looked, V collapsed onto Uzi before clearing her throat and spoke.

"Can you..." She paused, as if she was incapable of asking Uzi to do anything for her.

"Can you brush my hair?"

Her voice was scratchy from the crying, and her voice was still shaking despite thinking all the tears were gone. Maybe it was from embarrassment. The strong and terrifying Serial designation V asking for help? She might as well be dead at that point.

"of course..." Uzi smiled before going onto her tip toes and closing the gap between the two drones in a short, soft, loving kiss.

~~~~~

Uzi walked out to let V change, and after a few minutes she saw her girlfriend in a baggy purple sweater collapse into a hug, burying her head into Uzi's shoulder.

"..'m sorry for scaring you" was all V said, partially muffled by Uzi's shirt.

But Uzi just hugged her back and smiled into V while running her fingers through her girlfriend's still partially wet hair. "Its okay, it's not your fault"

V must've believed her. Or didn't feel like arguing. Because she just hummed in reply before pulling away from Uzi and sitting on the edge of their bed infront of the worker.

As Uzi played with V's hair, she wondered what must've happened. Who did V think she was? Why was she scared? Was she stuck in some kind of memory? What was happening in it?

She didn't want to ask too much. V was already secretive about her past even after getting together. But if it was hurting someone she cares about so much, she should at least ask her if she's okay now.

So she asked.

"What happened in there?" And immedietly felt bad. What if she was forcing V to re-live this memory? Was she overstepping a boundary?

"Uh.." V stopped in her tracks, almost trying to remember what just happened before Uzi cut off her train of thought.

"N-not that you have to tell me! It's just-" Uzi sighed. "I just want to know if you're okay"

A moment of silence passed, but to Uzi it felt as though it was a thousand years, and to V, half a second.

V took a deep breath before adjusting her position so that her knees were to her chest and she rested her face on them. "No... you deserve to know. Just-" another beat passed. "- just... i-it's just hard to talk about... uh.."

It was hard to keep talking, trying to figure out which words to carefully string together to form a cohesive sentence. She shouldn't be nervous, but she hasn't really talked about this to anyone. Her mind just kept flashing back to moments she has tried so hard to forget every time she wants to attempt to tell the most important person in her life what happened.

"V? You okay? You don't have to talk, you know"

Shit. She zoned out.

V collected herself and rehearsed what she'd say in her head. Why was she overthinking? She can trust Uzi.

"I..." Her eyes trailed down, and Uzi moved to the left of V to get a better look at her.

"Th-this was like, a long time ago and-"

She stared at her hands, and watched as she fiddled with them to relieve a bit of her anxiety. Or was it fear? Nervousness? Even she can't pinpoint the feeling. But, she does know she needed to talk about it.

"When I was a- uhm... w-when I worked for the Elliot manor... there were some...bad people" she took a slightly shaky breath. Uzi could probably see that V wasn't okay. Maybe that's why she rested her hand on top of V's after she said that. And despite the topic at hand, and emotions racing through her head, V made eye contact with her girlfriend and smiled. Not the sadistic smile she sported in hunts, or the beaming one she wore when Uzi said that magic three-letter word after asking her out. It was soft. It was okay. She's safe with Uzi.

So she took another shaky breath, and continued. "They hurt me. And... the ways they did that, varied..."

Uzi's digital eyes displayed slanted lines, reminiscent of human eyebrows when someone was sad.

"A-and one of those ways... included parts of me that I still wonder why I have. Maybe it was to feed their sick fantasies" it was hard to talk about, she figured by now the lump in her throat would've left but her voice cracked as she finished that last sentence.

V opened her mouth so speak, but choked on a sob that she had been trying to suppress. Damn it. She can't be crying now. She supposed to be scary. What was she even doing right now? She was stupid to think she can be vulnerable. She's supposed to be big and scary.

While V spiraled in her thoughts, hypocritically degrading herself for things she did three seconds ago, she snapped out of it by a sudden weight, and arms wrapping around her.

It was Uzi hugging her.

Suddenly, she couldn't control it anymore, and V let out more sobs as she finally broke down. Uzi held her through all of it, she even moved in front of V to face her. And as V sobbed and cried into the crook of Uzi's neck, she wrapped her own arms around the worker, despretly shaking and clawing onto her to make sure Uzi will never leave her side.

Between V's slightly muffled sobs and sniffles, Uzi lifted her head slightly to plant a kiss on V's cheek and whispered comforting words into her audio receptors.

"I'm here now" "Its okay now" "im sorry", they all helped but sounded the same to V. Until Uzi said a particular phrase.

"You didn't deserve that"

What a joke. She absolutely did. Maybe she hadn't done anything bad when it happened but the things that were done to her was probably something whatever higher being looking down on her did to punish her ahead of time. Maybe they thought it would stop her from doing the horrible things she did later in her life as a disassembly drone. In reality V didn't deserve Uzi. Or even N. She doesn't deserve loving partners who care about her. She doesn't deserve the affection she received from them or any forgiveness that they gave her.

But V couldn't even muster the energy to say that. Uzi would probably tell her it was absurd to think that way. Maybe it was. It was hard for someone programmed to serve people to imagine those people may be bad.

At some point in her thoughts, V's sobs got reduced to just occasional hitches in her breath, and her digital tears were replaced with tired lines under golden eyes. And they were very visible to Uzi, who pulled away from the hug and was now holding V's larger hands that were slightly illuminated by the yellow triangles on them.

"Hey, it's getting late. Do you want to go to bed now?"

V blinked a few times and looked at Uzi, then to her own hands. Hands that were made to kill people like Uzi. But right now, hands that were being held by her. And she watched as Uzi's thumbs brushed along her palms.

"Yea. Maybe" V finally sighed, and leaned onto Uzi, who pushed her own weight towards her and hugged her harder.

An "I love you" escaped the purple drone as she rubbed soothing circles on her girlfriend's back. It almost made V start crying again.

She was fine. Everything's fine now. She'll never be hurt that way again. She's loved now.

She's loved now

V's voice shaky from the newly built up tears, she reciprocated the statement

"I love you, too, Uz"

It was quiet, muffled, half mumbled, but it was enough for Uzi to hear her and squeeze her girlfriend tighter.

They shuffled a bit while cuddling, and ended up in a position where Uzi was spooning V. There's a first time for everything, she guessed. But it wasn't that bad, being cradled by the one she loved the most.

Minus V's purring and occasional sniffle, it was relatively quiet. But, it was comfortable. Uzi subconsciously ran her fingers through V's hair as V listened attentively to the rhythm of Uzi's core and wrapped her tail around Uzi's leg. Getting used to how clingy and physically affectionate V was took a bit of time, especially since before dating, Uzi's only ever seen her murdering people, playing with their corpses like dolls only to animalisticly take a bite of her prey.

But it was nice. Paired with V's purring, Uzi really enjoyed cuddling with her, too.

It was a while before V broke the silence.

"You know... I never thought I'd ever tell anyone that experience, much less to a worker"

Uzi looked down at V in her arms, which caused V's complimentary eyes to look back at her.

"Not that it's a bad thing. I'm really glad I could finally talk to someone about it. I never thought I'd see myself this close to someone like you. You opened my eyes to a diffrent way of looking at things, and I'm forever grateful we met. I'm sorry I was such a dick at first."

Uzi's face softened at the remark before she leaned down to kiss V's hair

"Don't say that. You were scared. And you've changed" Uzi paused to cup V's face in her hands and lean in for another kiss, V holding the back of Uzi's head.

"I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to"

V didn't talk, but her smile and blush spoke a thousand words. Uzi just held V to her chest and continued playing with her hair.

It continued like that for a while, until V's "eyelids" grew heavy, and she eventually succumbed to her exhaustion.

~~

Uzi didn't know how long it's been, and frankly she didn't care. That was until she heard footsteps walking into her room before she saw the unmistakable yellow headband of a disassembly drone.

"Hey Zi d-" N cut himself off as he saw V asleep and walked over to Uzi.

"Did something happen?" He asked Uzi in a hushed tone, careful not to wake the drone laying in his girlfriend's arms.

"...Yea. I don't know if she would let me say what happened, but..." the worker looked at the murder machine curled up in her arms, asleep, and smiled. "...she's fine now" Uzi replied, petting V's hair.

N's face shifted to a sympathetic smile as he sat on the edge of the bed and eyed V.

"I hope she is" was all he said before going behind Uzi and snuggled up with her, hugging her from behind before he too fell asleep.

Which left Uzi alone with her thoughts.

V was right, though. A few years ago Uzi's life was hell. It was hard to even avoid hurting herself. But she's so glad she didn't. Now instead of walking to her home after a shitty day at school to be ignored by her father, she walks home after another day of university to a home with her girlfriend and boyfriend, ready to tell them about her day and hear about theirs. Now she looks forward to life, as long as she has her two favourite people in it.

Eventually, Uzi also fell asleep, being hugged by N and V, and hugging the latter back.