#why not come together instead of being sketchy

[littlespace-nuggles-710]

?

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, cooties, wild subplot, loser enhypen

word count: 3.78k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024

The blaring screams of his alarm clock has Sunghoon jolting from his sleep. “Oh my god,” He gasps, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It was all just a dream!” He says relieved.

Jumping out of bed, he hurriedly gets ready for the day. Once clean and changed, he walks to the kitchen, opening a packet of natto to indulge in. 

“Yeji! Don’t forget to comb your hair,” He hears his mother scold as she enters the kitchen. “Oh, Sunghoon, you’re up?” She sounds confused. 

“Yeah, I’m walking with the guys, just like every morning.” He shrugs her off. She doesn’t say much after that, only rushing his little sister around the house, helping her get ready.

“I’m off, see you later.” Sunghoon waves goodbye as he heads out. “Have a good day!” His mother smiles. 

“He’s having a good morning for someone who locked himself in his room last night.” Yeji grumbles. “Your brother is… a teenager Yeji, let him be.” Her mother tries to keep a positive mindset. 

“Will I be like that when I’m a teenager?” Yeji asks, looking worried. 

“You better not, your brother is enough trouble as it is.”

In the past ten minutes no one has said a single word. Sunghoon can’t seem to figure out why though, his eyes searching for the answer. 

Finally, Jungwon clears his throat. “Sunoo,” He calls out. “How did your audition go? For the theater club?” 

The other boy suddenly sighs. “You won’t believe it- they rejected me!” Jaeyun looks completely shocked, eyebrows furrowed together. 

“I know! And then they had the audacity to ask me if I could instead be a prop decorator when I’m meant to be on stage!” Sunoo groans.

“That’s mean,” Heeseung frowns. (He keeps popping up out of nowhere, he’s like a ninja, it’s starting to actually scare Sunghoon).

“But then something happened on my walk home,” Sunoo hums, rummaging through his pocket. “Some guy stopped me when I was getting ice cream, he said to call him and I could become an idol!” Sunoo flashes the fancy business card in front of all his friends. 

“Is that real?” Riki swipes it, observing both sides of the cardstock. The card gets passed around, and everyone gets a good look before it’s returned to Sunoo.

"Belift Lab? What kind of stupid company name is that?" Jungwon scoffs as he reads the card.

“Do you guys think I should do it? Being an idol sounds fun.” Sunoo smiles. That is until Jaeyun shakes his head. “Sure yeah you’re famous, but don’t you want to be an actor? That’s pretty different.”

“True, you could be training for years before you debut, or maybe you don’t debut at all,” Jungwon adds.

“Riki A’s older brother almost became an idol, he says he trained for like almost 3 years.” Riki comments.

“Oh gross, I think I’ll just stick to acting.” Sunoo tosses the card into a nearby trash can. 

“Was he from a good company?” Sunghoon asks. Sunoo shrugs. “Don’t know, I've never heard of them.”

“Sounds sketchy, probably good you didn’t say yes.” Jungwon agrees. 

As the six of them continue on their walk to school, there’s the familiar sound of a thud behind them, causing them all to turn. 

“Fuck, I got my pants dirty,” Jongseong grumbles as he stands up, dusting himself off. “You’re late,” Sunghoon teases, making the other boy roll his eyes. “I’m early actually, and I have been this whole week.” Jongseong argues.

“It’s only Wednesday.” Sunoo points out to him. This has Sunghoon confused. “What do you mean? It’s only Tuesday.”

The boys all stop, turning to Sunghoon with crazed expressions. “Sunghoon, it’s Wednesday,” Jaeyun shows his calendar on his phone.

He takes a closer look, stepping forward. Right there on Jaeyun’s screen it lists the date: Wednesday, March 6th. 

“No.” Sunghoon stumbles over his words. He looks up at his friends. “That means yesterday-” He chokes up.

“Dude are you high?” Riki asks, concerned. “Do you not remember what happened yesterday?”

Yesterday. Tuesday. March 5th.

He went to school, and then he went home. Yeah. No. Maybe?

Because then that would mean that what happened wasn’t a dream-

“You left home early, remember? Actually you ran out, Jaeyun had to drop your stuff off.” Jungwon clarifies, and suddenly everything clicks.

After humiliating himself in front of you and his entire class, Sunghoon didn’t even think about dashing out of the classroom. To be honest, he just kept running, past his homeroom, past the front doors, and right out the school gates down the street. 

“Sunghoon!” Jaeyun shakes him by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, brain shutting down.

Sunghoon has to be wrestled into his seat. Jaeyun and Jongseong hold him down, trying to convince him to apologize to you. 

“Just say you’re sorry,” Jongseong holds him firmly down by the shoulder. “Yeah! I’m sure she’ll understand.” Jaeyun tries to stay positive.

“Please, please just let me go. You guys are my friends, can’t you just-” “We’re doing this because we’re your friends you idiot.” Jongseong argues. 

Sunghoon tries to argue, but is swiftly shut up when Jaeyun suddenly announces your arrival.

“Hi Y/n! You’re looking nice today.” Jaeyun sounds overly enthusiastic as he compliments you, his arms are not so subtly trying to get Sunghoon to turn your way.

“Hey Jaeyun,” You sound unsure as you get closer. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jongseong.” Sunghoon’s other friend greets you.

“Hi,” You say quickly before clearing your throat. “Um, Sunghoon, do you think we can talk really quick? In private?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head no, but his two friends decide to take matters into their own terms. 

“Oh, he’d love to! Right, Sunghoon?” Jongseong stares him down. Sunghoon clenches his jaw and rigidly nods. 

He’s released by his friends, and like a robot, follows you out of the classroom. He’d try to make a break for it, but he could feel both Jongseong and Jaeyun’s eyes following him down the hall. 

You lead him to a corner by the janitor’s closet, it’s a lot quieter as it’s away from the rowdy crowd of teeangers.

He stands far from you, not able to get closer than 10 feet. But you begin to close the space in between you, forcing Sunghoon to back up. Except he instead ran into a wall and found himself cornered by you.

“I was worried you wouldn’t show up today.” You begin to speak, stepping back and keeping a respectable distance. Sunghoon is as stiff as a board, eyes trained onto his feet. 

“I wanted to say I’m really sorry for what happened yesterday.” You suddenly apologize. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I had no idea you were scared of girls, Jaeyun told me after you ran away.” 

His best friend of the past eight years, Sim Jaeyun, revealed his most deepest darkest secret?! He felt so betrayed.

“But I want you to know I want to help you.” You say, and suddenly Sunghoon is looking at you (more like the outline of you, he still can’t look at you directly) with wide eyes. 

“I mean we’re seatmates and club members, we should be able to help each other out.” You begin to explain. “And Jaeyun kind of asked me to help you.” You add sheepishly at the end.

Sunghoon was seriously going to get his revenge on that kid.

“So what do you say?” You ask, rocking back and forth on your feet as you patiently wait for his answer.

Sunghoon felt trapped. On one hand, his looming fear of women was stopping him, but on the other hand provided a (very scary) solution to his big problem.

“H-How would you help me?” He coughs out. “I was thinking we could start by being friends? Maybe work on the small stuff.” You offered.

The small stuff, yeah, he could deal with that, right? 

Eventually, he nods, causing you to clap your hands together. 

“Great! This is going to be easy, I promise!” You grin.

It was in fact not easy.

All morning you would try to get Sunghoon to give you as much as a look in your direction, whispering to him random questions and facts to try and start a conversation.

When lunch finally arrived, Sunghoon had never run so fast to the cafeteria before in his life.

“I’m gonna kill you Sim Jaeyun!” Sunghoon is seething as he sneaks up behind his friend. Jaeyun’s signature smile vanishes, and is replaced with fear. 

“Sunghoon please-” “You told her?!” Sunghoon leads Jaeyun to sit down at their table. 

“How else do I explain why you suddenly dipped in the middle of class? I could’ve told her you had to take a massive shit, but I didn’t!” Jaeyun argues, tugging Sunghoon off of him. 

Hmm, touche.

“This was for the greater good, we all agreed on it.” Sunoo suddenly adds in. Sunghoon turns to his friends in shock.

“You guys voted? With Heeseung?!” He points to the (technically his) senior. Heeseung stared wide eyed, looking slightly guilty.

“We voted because you’re getting out of hand. Dude, my older sister ran into you at the supermarket the other day with your mom and when she said hi, you hid behind the cans of soup display.” Jungwon reveals.

“I thought she wouldn’t recognize me.” Sunghoon winces from the embarrassment.

Heeseung (awkwardly) claps a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sungho.” “-Sunghoon,” Jaeyun whispers to him the correction.

“It’s okay, Sunghoon.” Heeseung pretends to have never made his mistake. “Everything will be alright.”

Sunghoon turns to him, lips thin. That one look has Heeseung’s arm falling back to his side. 

“Come on Sunghoon, stop acting like this. You already agreed to let her help you anyways.” Jongseong argues. The boy sighs, rubbing his face in despair. Even Sunghoon can’t believe he still agreed.

“I take it back, can you guys tell her I’d rather be a hermit for the rest of my life and never want to see another woman again?” Sunghoon asks, looking stressed. 

“Well don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure that’s her coming our way.” Jungwon points out, sipping his drink as he nods to his right. 

The younger boy proves to be right, you’re making your way through the crowded cafeteria, holding your tray of food as you walk confidently towards Sunghoon and his friends. Unfortunately for him, Jaeyun traps him down to his seat before he can run again.

“Hey Sunghoon,” You smile, waving as you stop at the head of the table. Jongseong kicks his shin, forcing him to respond. 

“Hi,” He grunts. The other boys snicker, finding all of this amusing. 

“I was just wondering if we’re still having Calligraphy club today after school?” You ask. 

Oh crap. With everything that happened today, Sunghoon had totally spaced out and forgotten what he’d promised the day before. 

“He wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Riki grins at you. The youngest sticks his hand out to you, giving you an enticing smirk. “I’m Riki B by the way, you like younger guys?” His question earns him a slap on the arm by Jongseong.

As Riki gasps from the pain, you chuckle awkwardly. “So I’ll see you after class then? At the old library?” You check, facing Sunghoon again. He stiffly nods, still not looking at you.

“Cool, see you!” You finally leave, going to eat a few tables away. Once you're gone, Sunghoon feels as if he can breathe again. 

“She’s pretty.” Heeseung giggles, earning quiet but strong agreements from the other boys. “You sit next to her?!” Sunoo sounds surprised, mocking the boy in question.

“Okay, shut up. All of you.” Sunghoon glares, his ears turning red.

“Don’t worry Sunghoon,” Riki begins to chuckle. “I won’t actually steal your girl, I’ve got my eyes on someone else.” He teases. “Just don’t get too butt hurt when she falls for my good looks and charismatic charm.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore the youngest. 

“Speak of the devil,” Riki suddenly laughs. “Yo shortcake!” He stands up in his seat, hollering at someone.

A girl in the sea of students spins around, first looking confused, then angry as her eyes land on the tall boy. She promptly flips him off, before stomping away with her friends. 

Riki laughs, finding the situation funny. “I’ll see you guys later, with my new girlfriend.” He says confidently, dumping his food in the trash to go chase after the poor girl. 

“Oh this is gonna be good,” Jungwon begins to chuckle, pulling out his phone before following his friend. “Send me the video!” Sunoo shouts and Jungwon gives him a thumbs up. “I pray for that girl,” Jaeyun shakes his head.

“She’s gonna need a miracle to get rid of him,” Jongseong agrees. “Same way Sunghoon’s gonna need a miracle to get out of Calligraphy club today.” Sunoo comments.

This was always one of Sunghoon's favorite parts of calligraphy: the setup. Being able to prepare and organize before he wrote felt calming in the sense that it was a comfortable pattern. He opens his box, revealing his multiple brushes and supplies safely packed inside. 

Relishing in the silence, Sunghoon carefully takes out sheets of paper, placing them to his right. Using water from his designated calligraphy water bottle, he pours a small amount into his shallow ink stone. 

Like a machine, Sunghoon begins to sternly rub his ink stick against the stone, breaking it down and mixing it with the water to create the dark opaque ink. He sets this to the side once finished, taking a piece of paper, and flattening it out with his paper weights.

With a deep breath, Sunghoon feels his heart calm down to a trill. This was the most relaxed he’s felt all week. 

“So that’s how it’s supposed to look, huh?” Your voice interrupts his thoughts and suddenly Sunghoon is reminded of why you’re here in the first place.

Across from him you sit, copying him as you begin to set up your own supplies. You do so messily, but nonetheless, you get the job done looking satisfied.

“Okay! I’m ready whenever you are.” You clap your hands together, eager to start. Opposite to you, Sunghoon is silent as he begins to dip his brush into his ink, carefully calculating his brush strokes as he writes, quoting a poem he enjoyed. 

“So, are you actually scared of catching cooties?” You ask, not so subtle. Your abrupt question has him frozen.

“Cause if you are, has anyone told you that cooties aren't real? It’s just a thing kids say-“

“I know.” He interrupts. “I just…” He loses the words, grimacing instead. You two grow quiet again, the tension in the air is thick.

“What are you writing?” You eventually speak up again. 

“...It’s a quote from the poem ‘Flowers That Bloom When Shaken’ by Do Jonghwan.” He explains.

You nod. “Well I’m drawing a cat playing in a field.” You suddenly hold up your paper, showing him your art. 

If he thought your calligraphy was bad, it was safe to say you weren’t an artist either. “Looks like a second grader made it.” He mumbles. You huff, grabbing a new paper.

As you both return to writing in silence, Sunghoon is able to focus and finish his piece, setting it to the side to let it dry properly.

He notices you suddenly stop writing, setting your brush down as you lean back into your chair. You sit with crossed arms, observing him. This has Sunghoon feeling like his skin was crawling. 

“Sunghoon.” You call out. “Let’s play a game.”

He pauses. “I don’t like games.” 

“Too bad, this is a fun one.” You assure him. You sit upright again and lean against the table.

“We’re just gonna ask each other questions, and we have to answer them.” You say it like it’s so easy.

“What if I don’t?” He fidgets. 

“Every question you answer, you get to go home five minutes early.” You prompt. Sunghoon’s eyes flit across the room to the door. Leaving early sounded nice.

“We get three questions each, okay?” Sunghoon slowly nods. You clap your hands together, excited. 

“I’ll go first,” You clear your throat. His heart begins to race, palms getting sweaty, and mind running wild at what horrible grotesque questions you could ask him. 

“For my first question…” You hum. “Why do you like calligraphy?” 

That wasn’t what he expected you to ask him.

“I-” He chokes, blinking as he tries to formulate an answer. “I… feel calm when I do calligraphy.” He answers slowly. “I can focus better, and I can relieve stress.” 

“See? Wasn’t so hard was it? Now for the next question, maybe try looking at me and not the table.” You tease, and he begins to feel embarrassed. 

“Now you ask me a question.” 

Sunghoon shifts in his seat. There’s been something that’s been bugging him all day.

“Why-Why did you agree to help me?” He steals a quick glance at you, before opting to focus on the bookshelf behind you.

“Don’t get upset when I say this,” You mumble. “But you looked really scared yesterday at the science lab. I got worried when you ran off and didn’t come back. I thought I did something wrong.”

You were worried… for him? You two barely knew each other and yet you still stressed over him deserting you in the middle of class. Even more confusing, you thought it was your fault. 

Sunghoon feels his heartbeat slow down.

“Okay, my turn again.” You clear your throat. “Are you scared of like all girls? Or just some of them?” Your curiosity seems to have gotten the better of you. 

Sunghoon tilts his head to the side. “I’m normal around my mom and my sister. Family for the most part I'm fine. But I have trouble around everyone else I guess.” He sheepishly admits. 

“I see.” You nod, and as you turn slightly, he catches a glimpse of your pouted lips. You seem to be deep in thought. 

“My turn.” He speaks up, already prepared with his next question. You wait attentively.

“Why did you join the calligraphy club?” 

You shrug at his question. “We visited my grandparents for the new year. My grandmother gifted me a set. I wasn’t gonna use it originally but then my friend convinced me to join the club. You guys know each other, his name is Kai. He said you were really nice and that you’d teach me.”

Sunghoon knew Kai alright. Kai was very close to his calligraphy club senior Soobin. The boy would often hang out in the club room last year when Soobin was around. He had no idea you two were friends.

But what really caught Sunghoon off was how highly Kai regarded him. They didn’t speak much, as both were pretty introverted. The fact that their little interactions were good enough for you to believe your friend was surprising to him.

“Thanks.” He nods, feeling a bit better about himself.

“Okay, my last question.” You drum your fingers against the wooden table. “Why are you scared of girls?”

If Sunghoon was being honest, he had a feeling you’d ask him this. He’d expected it earlier on, but there was no doubt you’d want to know how his fear started.

His words clump up at the back of his throat, refusing to come out as you wait patiently. He glances at the door and is reminded why he’s doing this in the first place.

“You can take your time, don’t feel pressured to tell me everything if you don’t want to.” You assure him, sliding back into your seat.

Your words help calm his nerves, and Sunghoon nods as he takes a deep breath. 

“I wasn’t always scared.” He says after a moment. “But when I was seven, I got bullied by the girls in my class.”

“Everything used to be normal, but then one day I came to school and all the girls were whispering about me. They wouldn’t play with me, talk to me, they’d just watch me from afar and gossip.”

“And it was just me, none of the other boys in my class had it happen to them. When I tried to ask one of the girls during recess, she screamed at me to leave her alone.”

“After that, I just stopped talking to girls. I feel like I can’t understand them, I don’t know what they’re thinking, what they’ll do, or what they say. Even now, everyone’s always whispering about me like I'm disgusting.”

There’s anger in his voice as he finishes, and Sunghoon realizes his fists are clenched. He releases them, swallowing thickly as he tries to relax. 

He slumps in his chair, hiding his face in his hands. Despite how horrified he was right now, he felt a bit relieved you now knew his secret.

“Please don’t tell anyone this. You’re one of the few people who know.” He admits. 

“Okay, yeah. I promise.” You say softly. Your voice brings him some sense of tranquility.

“Why don’t we go home?” He nods solemnly, and the two of you clean up.

You two don’t speak again until you’re outside, the brisk March air hitting you both in the face, a large contrast to the warm temperature from inside.

“Thanks for telling me all of that back there.” You say, gripping your school bag as you two walk side by side (albeit a few feet in between you both, Sunghoon still wasn’t used to the idea of close proximity).

“Jaeyun probably would have told you anyway, that snitch.” Sunghoon mumbles. Hearing this makes you laugh. Something about it makes his ears turn red, and it's not from the cold.

“Oh!” You gasp, jumping up. “We forgot, you still have one more question to ask me.” You remind him.

Sunghoon begins to think, not sure what to ask. Unconsciously he turns, more focused on hearing your answer to realize he’s actually looking at you.

“How do you actually plan to ‘help’ me?” He raises a brow.

You look up at him and smile, giggling to yourself. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” 

You skip ahead of him before waving goodbye as you head down a different street on your way home.

Sunghoon doesn’t wave back, instead, he stands there in the cold as your figure eventually disappears. It’s then does he realize his friends were right.

You are pretty.

Log 2: Tuesday - March 5th, 2024 | Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

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[solangelotus]

seven devils (part one)

luke castellan x reader (gender neutral)

my mind (now)

summary: capture the flag brings injuries plus shared feelings and memories between you and luke. you once loved him and try your hardest to understand where you went wrong, all while trying to change his fate. (lovers to enemies series)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: starts right before tlt, apollo!reader, lots of angst, graphic fighting, injury + healing descriptions, fluffy memories, mentions of character deaths (thalia) - also mentions alison, the new character being introduced in s2 of the show and using her as a plot point worked out well

author's note: lovers to enemies fic for luke is just too perfect 🤌 also it’s great because it’s therapeutic for me after going through my own lovers to enemies!

masterlist | series masterlist

there’s a chill in the air that makes it feel like the dead of winter instead of a friday in late may. you suppose you can blame it on the fact that your perch in which you sat during each capture the flag game was high up in the treetops. it was a perfect spot; forty feet above zeus’s fist, and you could see zephyros creek, the boundary.

the flag was wedged into the top of the rock pile, but the game had started over an hour ago and no one was to be seen yet aside from your teammates. sweat beads on your forehead from the red-plumed helmet, but you know if you take it off it will only increase the chill in your bones.

a crunch echoes across the woods, and you spy your brothers, will solace and lee fletcher, hastily grabbing their bows from opposite sides of the woods. you knew michael yew was nearby in a treetop much like you, but you had yet to spot him. he was backup for little will; the eleven-year-old was proving to be an exceptional medic, but he had not inherited great aim like most of your siblings.

you spot a pair of blue plumes by the boundary, one much shorter than the other. annabeth is the shorter one, you can tell from the careful, calculated steps. the only other person who always searches for the flag that would be so careless with his steps is chris rodriguez. but if he was with annabeth, then where was luke?

“fuck,” you mutter and start scaling down the tree as quickly as you can, pulling your bow from over your shoulder. crouching on a branch halfway down the tree, you load a sonic bow and watch the muddy ground. it had rained the day before, which attributed to the chill in the air. you spot the footprints and let the arrow fly before you can think twice.

annabeth wasn’t wearing her cap which meant someone was, and you hear a groan over the loud blast of music that affected the empty ground. will begins to run towards the area, and once you make it to the forest floor, you sprint towards the pile of rocks. will’s small legs fail to carry him as fast as yours and he yells, “y/n, what’s happening?!”

“castellan is,” you yell back and ready another arrow, trying your best to abide by the ten-yard rule. you watch carefully; lee intercepts will and tells him to find michael to distract the others, and then makes his way to your side.

“where is he?” your brother asks and you shake your head. scanning the ground where the footsteps end, you pull another arrow out of your quiver. unfortunately, even after years you still knew his body like the back of your hand. 

you had been his doctor from the day he arrived until he was seventeen, but it would be superficial to say that’s why you knew his body so well. a tattoo lay on the inside of his left ankle from when you were fifteen and took fake ids to a sketchy parlor ten miles from camp. a crooked line scarred his upper thigh from one of the first times he gave you sword fighting lessons. just above the mole you used to adore on his right forearm lays a burn mark from the time you attempted to make cookies together.

you sigh and look at a tree behind the spot to confirm the right height you need before you let the arrow fly. worse comes to worse, it just flies over his head. but you knew better, and the arrow did exactly what you planned; it knocked the hat off of his head and into the mud beside him. “always good with a bow, but never with the sword.”

you just shake your head and reach for your dagger-lined belt. lee knocks an arrow but you put your hand out to him. “it’s a diversion, lee. he’s here to distract us so annabeth and chris can swoop in. i’ll fight him off and you stay on guard.”

“still thinking highly of yourself, i see,” luke grumbles. you were both popular at camp to say the least, both for your welcoming personalities but also for your ongoing rivalry. popular for the worst reasons, seeing as you two being anywhere near each other usually leads to chaos.

“i literally heard you and chris talking about it at the campfire last night.”

“it’s kind of old news at this point,” lee shrugs, and you hate that he’s always a voice of reason, “you two always seek each other out, even if it’s not explicitly planned.”

“lee,” you plead, and gesture to the flag. he nods and you turn back to face the son of hermes, taking small strides to him.

“did you hear who’s coming back this summer?” luke asks with a smirk. you start to think throwing one of your daggers at his face might be worth the loss of dessert privileges. 

“i’m not here to talk, castellan.”

“alison’s coming back,” he informs, a boyish grin spreads across his face but doesn’t reach his hungry eyes. you gulp and suddenly you feel like you are sixteen again; a joy in the silent pain he can see in you. he knows you see him more clearly than anyone else has.

you feel the dagger in your hand start to shake. love and hate feel too similar; your pulse speeds the longer he looks at you. you hate yourself for the way he can still get under your skin after so many years. “why would i care?” you try your best to sound stern, but the tone of your voice betrays you.

“why wouldn’t you?”

“she’s not my friend.”

“we’re all well aware,” he spits out, his eyes drifting to where lee stands in earshot of you both. “you spoke so highly of her just to abandon her at a time of need. that’s why no one trusts you now.”

“i never did anything to her! you know this! the two of you lied to me, and lied to everyone about me!” you yell at him and tighten your grip on your dagger. he draws his sword and you contemplate pulling your own, but he was right about one thing: you were never good with your sword. you wished you could go back in time and relish the moment you sliced his upper thigh instead of feeling bad for it back then.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years and you’re still so delusional,” he laughs, and you throw your first dagger at the hand that holds his sword. he was caught off guard, but he was relying on the old mindset you had where you hated hurting people. the fact of the matter was you did, and you knew that was why the dagger flew just a few inches from the target. “still can’t aim for shit either.”

“shut up,” you breathe out, and pull your sword from its scabbard at your waist. the bow and daggers had been a gift from your father, and truthfully, you had extremely good aim. you never would have received two gifts from him without such a talent. deep down you were still a medic, and people were so different from bloodthirsty monsters who gave you no choice.

your attempts to deflect luke’s swings are futile, he’s always been quicker, better, and more efficient with a sword. your bow was no match in close-up combat. as a child of apollo, you were born for the outskirts of battle, not for the frontline. but you hated looking like a fool.

like other demigods, your restlessness helped you in battle. sure it helped the children of the war deities more, you had seen the flip switch in clarisse, silena, and annabeth, especially. their godly power filling them has always been fascinating, even when you’re on the receiving end. no one strategized like annabeth, her intelligence with the field and for all weapons was scary. clarisse was passionate, stronger than most, and she was a force just like her father. silena, and all of her siblings, got teased for their bright pink armor and for the vanity that people assumed of them. but you had seen the rage that filled silena’s eyes when she was challenged, the rage that came with being the daughter of the love goddess who was also a war goddess. aphrodite and her children were discounted for their skills, but there’s a reason the team that included cabin 10 usually won. you were thankful the aphrodite cabin adorned the red plumes today.

there was no switch in your siblings. predictability was a blessing and a curse; prophetic thoughts and visions could be hard to interpret. overthinking during a battle affected many of the children of apollo; there was no changing fate.

no one – not even lee who had the best intuition out of anyone – could have predicted your next move as you successfully ducked under luke’s sword as he swung it at your helmeted head. he was the greatest swordsman in 300 years, but he was playing dirty right now. who were you to make that easier?

you realize the scream you hear is luke’s as a dagger in your non-dominant hand stabs into his thigh. when did you grab the blade? when did the flip you didn’t know existed inside you switch? 

his sword fell to the ground when he clasped his thigh and you dive to grab for it. you hear lee yell your name, but for once you have the upper hand on luke and you refuse to let it go. “no!”

luke’s voice echoes in your mind as you grab his sword, and he grabs the back of your armor in an attempt to pull you away. he uses his free hand to yank off your helmet, and he pushes you back to the ground. the breath is knocked from your lungs and you roll over onto your back to look at him. the impact had released his sword from your grip and your head swam as he held his sword out towards your face. fear swims within you. how far would he go?

the conch sounds breaks through the camp and you can hear cheering, but you know it’s from your team. will and michael successfully kept chris and annabeth distracted. luke is furious, you can tell from the way his nose crinkles and the furrow between his brows. he stabs his sword into the ground right beside you and you flinch. “we would have fucking won if it wasn’t for you!”

“it’s just a game, luke,” you groan out, your chest and lungs still burning. you try to sit up but you feel so delirious, you knew your head had hit the ground but you didn’t realize you had hit it so hard. where was the adrenaline you had just a few moments ago?

“if it’s just a game, then why would you stab me?!”

“you swung your sword at my head!” you yell, wincing at your volume. you hear footsteps and silently pray that it’s lee coming to intercept after the announcement of your team’s victory.

“because you messed me up, you fucked me over! how dare you?!” he yells at you, the tears begin to well up in your eyes. his narrow at you and you notice him clench his fists; this isn’t about the game.

“how dare i? how dare fucking you?!” you scream back until you feel a hand grab yours. you swear your vision briefly goes out as you quickly turn your head to face your brother. lee is at your side and shushing you as he pushes your hair from your face.

“luke, go,” lee demands, earning himself a scoff and eye roll from the older boy. you close your eyes, trying to steady your persistent, uneven breaths. stomping fills your ears as lee helps you to your feet until your siblings find you and help get you to the infirmary.

the cabins involved on the blue team sulk at the campfire and chris notes the bandage wrapped around luke’s thigh. annabeth is pissed; her hat is muddy and her team lost. “i’m sorry, beth.”

“it’s your fault we lost,” she reminds him, using a rag to get the mud off of the gift from her mother.

“you got distracted too!”

“no,” she narrows her eyes at him, “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to act like it’s my fault too when you have this ridiculous vendetta against y/n. you need to get over whatever happened years ago with them. you suck at games, you are weaker than you used to be, and your only motivation is to get back at them. what happened to glory? to pride?”

“you don’t understand.”

“then make me,” she grits her teeth, shoving the towel and hat into his lap, “and clean my hat. you should have picked it up the second it fell.”

“they cornered me!”

“the best swordsman in centuries supposedly got cornered and failed to defend himself and retrieve his little sister’s most prized possession? if y/n is as horrible at battling as you make everyone believe then you wouldn’t have gotten your butt kicked. get over yourself, luke.”

annabeth rushes away from the fire and towards the infirmary. when the bad blood began between you and luke, annabeth told you both she would never pick sides. she and you grew close after her first night at camp when she was mean and you still showed her nothing but kindness. you filled the older sibling void that she had lost with thalia.

when she enters the infirmary, she sees you laughing while laying in a bed with lee. she smiles at the joy in your face, at the crinkles by your eyes when you laugh. she loves the wide grin the children of apollo have, and how it strikes happiness in all those who experience it. without even looking at the door, you could sense her presence; something you and lee seemed to experience was being able to sense those nearby.  you wonder if it’s a gift from your father to be able to sense someone before they can approach you. maybe it’s a gift to prevent the healer from injury in a battle.

annabeth slides into the chair at your bedside and she accepts the hand you stick out for her, “how are you?”

“i’m fine now, much better after some ambrosia and a snack.”

“what happened?”

“nothing, it’s alright.” a sinking feeling fills annabeth’s stomach with your reassurance and forced smile. something is wrong. luke was quick to blame you, to say you tricked him and hurt him without a second glance, but you were the one in the infirmary. he had a singular bandage on his thigh. his anger was getting worse, he wasn’t pulling punches with anyone as he used to. “annabeth, what’s wrong?”

“i’m worried,” her voice trembles and you practically push lee out of bed. he accepts the hint and goes to the office to finish the paperwork that comes each friday night after capture the flag. you pull annabeth’s hand and she crawls into the creaky infirmary bed. “there’s something wrong.”

you wrap your arms around the small girl and press your lips to her hairline. annabeth is strong, both physically and emotionally, but she always holds it in. she guards herself heavily, but you have always been someone she needs not to protect herself against. “i…i know.”

“does lee know his fate?” annabeth questions. she continues to identify the distance in her brother, how he sneaks away alone at night. she used to believe it was to be with someone, but he was too good to cheat on alison; they had been together for three years. annabeth knows lee is the closest camp has to a prophet outside of the oracle.

“no,” you answer truthfully. you hope your expression stays balanced, that she will not see what you omit. that instead of lee, it’s you who sees his fate.

back at the campfire, luke eyes get lost in the flames. his hands move the towel absentmindedly against the gift from athena, and he silently prays to kronos to wish that his weakness can disappear. the warm flicker of light reminds him of sunlight, of the light that everyone sees in you. the light is his weakness, the hurt in your eyes fills him with guilt. but you are too good.

he has always known you were too good. the trust you have in the divine fills him with disgust. he hates that you convinced him to get that stupid wing tattooed on his ankle, and he hates that he convinced you to get a sun on your own. his naivete as a child was blinding. 

you fought tooth and nail to convince him of being loved, of being good, and he accepted it. he believed it too. the lord of time could never change his fate, only hasten it with the vow he has taken. 

he heard everything you told him, but maybe if he had truly listened then he could be good like you. maybe he could have ended up as kind and loving as the first night you met.

you had snuck away from the campfire when you could sense some commotion. team blue had won capture the flag, but your camp hoodie had gotten dingy – you wanted nothing more than to shower. the big house was just a short walk from the campfire, and inside were extra toiletries that you were going to need.

a commotion at the top of half-blood hill steered your attention away from the prospect of showering. you could see a few shadows in the moonlight and began sprinting towards the hill, pulling your sword from its sheath in the process. you would be the first to admit you were shit with a sword, but your bow and arrows were back in your cabin so you had to make due.

luke was leading a limping annabeth over the border when you arrived on the hill, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than your face. he didn’t care about the beaten-up sweater or the jeans caked in mud; he didn’t even care to draw his weapon when you pointed your sword at him. he saw nothing but you, your essence, and the concern firm in your eyes. there was no malice in the face threatening him with a sword; he knew you could never hurt them.

the moonlight created a soft glow around your face, bouncing off the snowflakes that began littering your hair. he saw your mouth move, but everything was quiet, everything was still. he was sure you were a child of aphrodite; no one could look so perfect and disheveled. his fourteen-year-old self was sure he would never meet anyone so beautiful ever again. “hello?”

“hi,” he breathed out as you walked closer to him. your voice was firm, but the weapon in your hand was beginning to shake. the fearlessness you tried to present yourself with was fading fast, and he was trying hard not to break down at the thought of thalia and grover not being beside him.

“are you okay?”

“did you seriously just ask that?” the small girl beside him asked as tears streamed down her face. your heart hurt for her, she couldn’t have been any older than eight you guessed. you put your sword back in its sheath while she tried her best to keep a stern expression. her stare was harsh but you could tell she was deflecting from something.

“s-sorry. i, uh, mean are you hurt? we have an infirmary.”

“no.”

“yes,” luke corrected, and you gestured toward the building beside the big house. bleating sounds fill the air, and before you can comprehend it, a young satyr runs quickly through the barrier and nearly topples into you. he’s hyperventilating and his face is covered in tears and grime.

“grover?!”

“y/n!” he exclaimed and wrapped you in a hug. he’s still deeply upset and in shock, it doesn’t take a genius to see it.

“grover, are-” you’re cut off with a deafening scream. it wasn’t until later on that you realized it had been your own. lightning struck the ground right at the barrier, and a tree slowly erupted into form and took shape. fear filled your body. you had never been at the scene of new arrivals, let alone at such an event. capture the flag was the extent of the danger you faced – this was beyond it. grover wrapped his arms around you, and you looked at him. 

the fear that filled your body was dissipating. it was useless in a time when two demigods were in need right beside you – sobs wracked both of their bodies as they held each other. the girl’s ankle was visibly swollen, and the boy had many gashes all over his body. you and lee had been training for this; this was your moment to put your parentage to use. “grover, if you’re not hurt then go find chiron. tell him what’s happened while i get these two to the infirmary.”

grover trots off in the direction of the campfire, and the boy picks the girl up as you hastily walk toward the infirmary. it was unlocked, thankfully, but you knew your sister, val, was at the campfire. until she, the main healer, came back you were on your own. you introduced yourself, and got both of them onto a bed together.

“i’m luke. luke castellan,” he told you as you inspected the small girl’s ankle. purple bruises began to litter her deep skin and she winced as you pressed lightly on the skin. you grabbed the bandage roll and started to wrap and secure it tightly on her ankle to stabilize it. she held her hand out and you placed a square of ambrosia in it. “this is annabeth chase.”

“you’re brave, annabeth. your ankle is definitely broken but it’ll heal too fast for a cast. the first few days at camp are overwhelming as it is, so i imagine you are going to be forced to take it easy anyway with this injury,” you explained to her, but she continued to glare at you.

luke was a much easier patient. he was silent, only whispering a response to your questioning here and there. you figured it was easier to stay silent while being stitched up anyway, so you gave him some slack for it. you finished stitching a deeper cut on his arm, and moved to a gash on his leg. it was so infected you nearly gagged, so you grabbed a canteen of nectar and began to flush the wound. he sighed in relief and looked down at you. “how old are you?”

“thirteen,” you answered and grabbed a new needle and more surgical thread, “how old are the both of you?”

“she’s seven, and i’m fourteen,” he grimaced as you embedded the needle into his skin. you assumed he was your age, but you were glad your guess was right for the both of them. “how do you know what to do?”

“my dad is apollo.”

“oh, mine is hermes.”

“who’s yours, annabeth?”

“thalia’s was zeus,” she said instead, and your brows furrowed at the both of them.

“who’s thalia?”

“the tree that made you scream,” annabeth huffed and rolled her eyes.

“daughter of athena?”

“how did you know?” she asked and finally her facade fell. she looked startled and like she was ready to start fighting again.

“my best friend is a daughter of athena, so your sister. she’s a lot like you. her name is alison,” she smiled at you. chiron walked in through the infirmary doors with val, lee, and grover hot on his hooves. val quickly started to inspect your work and gave you a high five once she saw how well you had done.

luke watched the smile on your face grow and he felt his heart constrict. he should have known from the second he saw you that you were the child of apollo; it explained the glow and warmth you gave off upon seeing you. he was grateful it was you who stumbled upon them; you were a great distraction from the grief that began to fill him.

“do you still love him?” you think about her words. about the little luke, you knew when you were just thirteen and fourteen, about the luke you met that first night. 

annabeth stares at your vacant, slack face with hooded eyes, the tears slowly streaming as she tries to choke back the anxieties that fill her. she’s wisdom’s daughter, yet she feels like she has no idea how to get the answer to this problem. returning your stare to her, you release yourself of the reverie you found yourself in. “i believe it’s my fate.”

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[the-saltiest-saltine]

Enjoy this heartwarming fic about the importance of having reliable nondescript friends in the face of a scary situation. You and her can totally fight off a prospective attacker together, you’re sure - after all, you’ve got the power of friendship!

Yan!Chrollo x Reader

Word count: ~ 1.9k

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied voyeurism, implied torture

You’ve got a stalker. You know this for sure.

Wherever you go, you can feel a gaze. 

Your train rides and walks through some of the dodgier parts of the central business district after a busy day have always had their fair share of sketchy characters - it’s been a near-daily part of your life since you first came here several weeks ago - but this feeling was different. It wasn’t some junkie looking for a punch-up, no. It was specific. It was targeted.

What started as a feeling of slight watching in public, became a metaphorical spotlight in your apartment, blinding and irritating. You keep your windows shut and locked, not wanting the biting chill of the smoggy winter air to creep its way inside your residence. This doesn’t stop you from constantly coming home to find your kitchen window wound open, all these stories up. You know it’s definitely impossible for a regular man to get up here from the outside, since your front door is always locked and there’s no balcony.

You wish he’d leave you alone at the library, at least. It’s nice and relatively quaint, a much-appreciated juxtaposition from your otherwise industrial setting, and the least your stalker could afford is some privacy so you can enjoy it to its fullest.

The stare is intense, filled with neediness and darkness. You’re sure the eyes of whoever is creating it are a void, the most unusual colour of emptiness and depravity. You can’t pinpoint any particular reason why this is happening - generally, you’re pretty quiet and unassuming. You have no rich family to pay a ransom, and your organs wouldn’t be worth much. Simply put, a person like you is not worth the trouble.

Your best cure for this feeling so far has been to simply sigh, and open up your latest novel, indulging in a few chapters. The feeling subsides after a little while. Perhaps he gets bored of watching you partake in an activity so unappealing to an outside viewer. Perhaps he grabs out his own book and indulges himself, though you doubt that’s the case (-but that would be a nice thought, wouldn’t it? Imitation is, after all, the sincerest form of flattery).

Tonight, you found a card on your kitchen bench. By the looks of it, it’s not a parting message, rather the opposite. The intricate red pattern on it is almost enough to be considered romantic, but you’re hardly feeling the charm. It’s unsettling, to say the least, but you can’t even bring yourself to be scared. 

If anything, this issue annoys you now. It’s been a long, exhausting day at work. It gets uncomfortably cold if the window's left open. If someone’s going to kill you, they might as well just try already. Being stalked is so tiresome.

You don’t have enough tangible evidence to file a police report, simple sensings of a watcher not nearly enough proof to have police aid you. Funnily enough, this takes the bottom rung on the ladder of reasons why you can’t contact them. You can almost laugh at the thought of even trying. If this persists, you’ll call your friends instead.

Unfortunately, your welcome to this city has been anything but warm. 

Luckily, you’ve got one modicum of hope.

There’s a woman in your life.

She’s beautiful, inside and out. Her smiles are a breath of fresh air in this wretched city. You can’t say you’re exactly dating yet, but whatever tier below it you’ve got now is certainly better than whatever was there before. Something like gratitude, as much as you’re naturally inclined to overlook it, hits you like a truck whenever you’re together.

Unlike you, she’s not new here. She’s been a great tour guide so far, introducing you to practically every street corner, every Indian restaurant, every speck of dirt and faeces on the wrecked footpaths that the slimy Mayor neglects. It’s hard to worry about a stalker when you’re being bombarded with random questions and consumed by her laugh, echoing between the skyscrapers and into comforting mugs of hot chocolate.

The time you spend with her is precious, sacred even. You won’t let the mystery man get in the way of that.

Long before that card made its way to your residence, you did call a friend, the friend, about your problem, getting a response within two rings. You told her about your stalker, sniffling and regularly hiccupping, telling her about how you think there’s someone after you. She was practically frantic, demanding that you come over to her apartment right that instant, barking out her address without hesitation. It’s only fifteen minutes away, she assured. You got there in seven.

She flung open the door at the first knock, saying your name with relief and letting you in. You spared her most of the details as you sat on her couch, not wanting her to put herself in harm’s way. Despite your shaky insistence that you’ll be fine regardless, she gave you some pepper spray to help defend yourself, and some tips on how to hold your keys between your knuckles most effectively.

I’ll protect you if anything happens, she says, her support of you positively admirable. You know she’d try and fight him off if you were together when he strikes. 

You’re certain that your combined forces are enough to fight off a fully grown man, you declared in response - and you meant it. In fact, you added, scratch that, you’re absolutely convinced that your cumulative strength - consisting of four arms, pepper spray, and her high-pitched scream - is enough to fight off a bodybuilder pumped full of anything and everything you can get in the alleys behind the city’s numerous smoke shops. She laughed at that, but you know she still worries for you.

You can come with me anywhere if you’re uncomfortable, she said. Really, if you’re worried, just call me up. I can leave work early if you think you’re in danger, honestly. My manager is flexible enough.

Appreciation swirls around you in waves again. Naturally, you have your scepticism. It’s almost too generous, too forward, something you’re certainly not accustomed to. But alas, you’ll firmly grip whatever opportunities present themselves. She offers you what she can, and you don’t hold yourself back from accepting it with open arms.

You’ve accompanied her to the bar, to the library, to her favourite café. It’s pleasant. It’s peaceful. You’re still being watched for certain, but the ability to have a brief moment of levity whilst in her presence, something to help you forget about work and responsibilities and stalkers, is something to be treasured.

She’s so calming, so sweet, so caring…

And so, so oblivious.

You’ve accompanied her to the bar, to the library, to her favourite café. However, if you were to ask, she’d say with the utmost conviction that you were never there (and that she’d love to show you). You’ve accompanied her on her commute home, made cups of tea in her kitchen, folded dog ears in the untouched novels on her bookshelf, hoping she’ll note the romantic scenes and lines you’ve kindly bookmarked for her. 

She’s promised to protect you. She never questioned why your little whimpers died down so suddenly after she gave you her address. She never questioned how you got there so fast. If she’d been wary enough to use the location services on her phone, she would’ve been able to see that seven minutes was actually a while to arrive, considering you were a twenty-metre walk down the hallway when you’d called.

She simply ate up your little performance over the phone, and in her apartment. And, soon enough, she’ll be coming to yours. 

Yesterday, she told you about the new exhibit at the city’s museum - she went to get a glimpse of it the other day, and it looks promising.

You went to get a glimpse of it too, twenty metres behind her.

The day before, she told you about how she ordered a new drink at a café- it was absolutely to die for, and oh, by the way, did you know that café is her favourite in the city?

You inferred that much from her frequent visits there, following her routine so effortlessly that it became your own. You tried the drink out too, taking sips in time with hers, admiring her profile as she scrolled through her phone. She was so pleased to finally have an afternoon to herself, after a week of hectic shifts.

Something unfamiliar stokes inside of you as you make your observations. Perhaps it’s comparable to a parent seeing their child grow and develop, or a botanist seeing rare flowers bloom, or an astronomer observing the most uncommon and exquisite of meteorological events. It’s something like happiness, something like attachment, something like wonder, something like pride.

On the other hand, you must admit, you’re a little disappointed. She lied to you.

She didn’t tell you about the man she slept with from the bar last week. Technically, you never asked about it, considering that you weren’t supposed to be there, but you’re a man who considers lying by omission to be on an equal plane as wholehearted deception. She promised to never lie to you, but now she has. What should she have to do to earn your forgiveness?

Although, perhaps this encounter was no matter, the sounds she made being enough fuel for your frantic stroking outside her bedroom door, her whines teaching you what to do when you would be in the stranger’s place, a point in time that won’t be too far from now. For the sake of equality, though, you’ll let this one slide. After all, you didn’t tell her about the man’s fate after that night, about your other friend who’d assisted you, about the teeth scattered on the cold basement floor, about the strips of flesh that hung from his back and how you’d apathetically tugged on them.

She’s a very good source of information for you. Truly, you hadn’t expected to spend so long in this city, nor had you expected for the museum to open up again so quickly since your heist two months ago only a few towns over, locked down for precaution (a laughable concept, really). Without her, you wouldn’t have anyone to debate the validity of the Old Testament, the extent that Raskolnikov can be justified, or theories on what happens after death. Also, without her, you wouldn’t have found out about the museum’s new exhibit of Goya paintings so soon, teasingly left out in the open, ripe for the plucking mere minutes away from your penthouse. It’s a temptation you’ve never bothered resisting.

Despite being a Nen user, whoever’s stalking you doesn’t care to hide himself properly. His perfect Zetsu is rendered useless from his other behaviours. You can hear his footsteps outside of the window, see his shadow in your periphery, hear his heavy breathing and salacious groans as he watches you.

If you were more dramatic, you’d roll your eyes. With Skill Hunter available on command, you have no doubt that this fool would lose to you in a fight. You’ve been observing his patterns, feeling his aura, preparing yourself for the inevitable.

You’ve been doing the same for your friend, however loosely you may use the term.

Whatever the man following you wants, you’ll take from him tenfold. You pick up the playing card from the bench, a queen of hearts, and regard it between your fingers.

You’ve got a stalker. She’s got a stalker too. But, unlike you, she won’t have the means to counter his next move.

[go-go-devil]

Pate and Patches: What's the Difference?

As an avid Patches Enjoyer, I had initially found myself a bit underwhelmed with Mild Mannered Pate after completing his questline in Dark Souls 2, particularly with his overall lack of any truly devious trickery towards my Bearer of the Curse.

However, I didn't think it was fair to him to completely compare his role to Patches's. So after much assessment and taking in all the gameplay & environmental clues I could, I think I may have finally deduced how Pate's differences to Patches help him fit into his own niche in this game.

Y'see, while Patches is a predator, Pate is a parasite.

Patches goes after his victims directly. He lures them in with the promise of treasure only to flip a switch that'll send them into dangerous/fatal areas or will straight up kick them down there himself. If they somehow manage to get out of his traps then he'll start groveling and offering gifts for forgiveness. He also uses this predatory tactic to determine which of the people around him are both resilient and forgiving enough for him to trust, which leads him to becoming a merchant and thus a kind of ally to you. A sketchy, devious ally, but one who actively benefits you and gives you his occasional musings on the world and its characters.

Pate, on the other hand, doesn't seem to want to get his hands dirty at all when it comes to scavenging his victims' loot. Instead his strategy is to directly attach himself to anyone who proves strong enough to get through any dangerous areas he stumbles upon. He does this by playing the role of an unassuming, cautious treasure hunter who gives you helpful advice about the immediate area and wishes for your safety. It can even be seen through his choice of clothes; Pate dresses in the armor of a common warrior, unlike Patches who proudly wears the thief's set.

I remember at first finding it strange how he of all NPC's was the one who gives you the white soapstone, contrasting how in DS1 it was Solaire, one of the kindest characters in that game, who gave it to us. Looking back, however, it does fit his strategy well. Summons directly benefit from their summoners by getting souls & items for their participation, and so Pate can offer his help by turtling with his greatshield and stabbing the boss safely with his long spear to get his fill of the large number of souls you acquire.

Once he becomes his next victim's "ally," all Pate has to do now is just mosey alongside them and keep finding areas where they can acquire great treasures. But only for them, of course! He's just too nervous about what terrible traps await, but surely his ally is brave and strong enough to persevere while he watches from a distance. If they were to die by a swarm of hollows, or fall into a pit of poison, well, it wasn't HIS fault that it happened! He did warn them, after all...

With that in mind it's easy to assume that Pate was pulling this parasitism on Creighton for a good while, tagging along with him and benefiting from all the undead, hollow or sane, that the man slayed. The two even stored their treasures together in the same hovel. Why exactly he locked him up is never directly explained, but if I were to guess I'd say it had to do with Creighton's claim of wanting to set up a trap for Pate. He began to grow wise (or maybe moreso paranoid) to the fact that he was being used, and once his mild mannered "friend" figured it out he tricked him right back, took what he could from him (that being the Ring of Thorns), and booked it!

And even after all of that, this man still has the gall to share this story with strangers by twisting it around and turning the guy who tried to kill him into this poor, foolish little warrior that Pate tried so hard to stop from falling into such an obvious trap.

That's what separates the two tricksters. Unlike Patches who defines himself by living independently from others, Pate cannot function without hooking his claws onto the trust of more daring individuals to do all the dirty work for him. After surviving Patches's tricks he becomes your merchant and ally, but Pate wants nothing to do with you after surviving all of his traps. While Patches locked up and warns you about Yurt and Lautrec in DeS and DS1 respectively because he was genuinely afraid of how cruel and violent they were, Pate locked up Creighton upon realizing he wasn't beneficial to him anymore and doesn't even bother warning you about the fact that he's a convicted serial killer, instead pretending he doesn't even know the guy.

There's also the fact that if you summon Pate for The Last Giant boss fight, he'll give you his clothes, spear, greatshield, and even the ring (or at least copies of them, he doesn't strip down in front of us). Since this is also when he tells us he's heard of a man who's out hunting for him, it's more than a little suspicious that he would want us to dress to his likeness. Especially if that certain someone might end up mistaking us as him.

All-in-all Pate may seem less harmful than Patches on the surface, but in the end he proves to be far more cowardly and arguably WORSE than him from a moral standpoint.

[hereforbothimg]

@liyaauhr I hope you like this contribution to Ashlerism

Ok guys I was looking at pics of Canvas Ashlyn with her masquerade mask and this Ashler scenario popped into my head picture this: Ashlyn’s parents work for a spy agenc, Ashlyn accidentally finds out and is now forced into the agency by her parents because “she knows too much” Ashlyn was around 12 when she found out and the three of them would go on family spy missions. But however now that Ashlyn is 16 her parents feel she’s experienced enough to go on missions solo. Ashlyn is sent on a mission and must infiltrate a masquerade ball and track down the host as he stole a precious gem. Everyone has a mask so Ashlyn knows it’s gonna take a lot of searching to find this target but while trying to snoop around the venue someone notices her and drags her back to the party and obviously Ashlyn is upset that she can’t finish her mission and because she hates social interaction. This is where Tyler comes in, Tyler is an assassin that works for an agency. in this AU their parents split up, mom took Tay and Dad took ty, Dad gets really ill and inevitably dies Tyler is now a lost 9 year old boy who can’t pay rent. Someone finds him in an Alley way just sitting there and offers to give him a place to stay but for a cost: he lets them take him under his wing and becomes an assassin . Training untill he was 10 and going on missions that were often sketchy,bloody and full of murder since 11 he was pretty messed up and was often unhappy with himself and didn’t like his job but.. this was survival. Now he’s 16 and is given a target,the host of the masquerade ball to assassinate. Another Assain apart of Tyler’s agency hacks into the security cameras and feeds Tyler info through a hidden ear peice. Receiving the info Tyler finds out that the host is somewhere within the party on the dance floor. Trying to get through the crowd he bumps into a green masked,ginger girl who was looking beautiful tonight. Tyler has no idea who this masked stranger is but Ashlyn is able to recognize him in seconds. Tugging on his tie Ashlyn is glaring daggers at him, “Listen pal I know exactly who you are. And I don’t know what your planning but stay.out.of.my.way” Tyler is obviously put off by this and you can the shock through his mask. Pushing her off him, “Ok Ma’am I don’t know what your problem is but you don’t know me.” Ashlyn says, “Oh really, whispering in his air so as to generously not blow his cover, “Tyler Hernandez. Well known Assasin. You hear a few things while being a spy.” Now flabragasted Tyler whispers back “How do you-Who are you?!” “Ashlyn Banner, international spy.” Tyler says, “Alright, carrot head why don’t we go somewhere more private” Ashlyn says “I’m not looking to talk” Tyler not listening grabs her by her wrist and tries to pull her away until… “WHERE ARE YOU YOUNG LOVERS GOING?” Tyler and Ashlyn stutter “Uhm- Uhm no where no where at all-“ the masked stranger says “well instead of sneaking out to kiss like you young folk do why not dance together instead” Ashlyn says “oh we really shouldn’t” and the next moment there are Ashlyn and Tyler in the center of the ball, Tyler lost in Ashlyn’s gorgeous green eyes astonished by how beautifully and elegantly she dances. As he twirls her around Ashlyn feels butterflies in her stomach and stares right back into Tyler’s eyes. She doesn’t know why and what she’s feeling but what she does know is she hates it. This is nothing but a distraction to her. She has responsibility…

TBC (or maybe not)

[aliorsboxostuff]

ok so imagine ftm reader x joel in the apocalypse. because i just know being trans in an apocalypse is NOT fun. you can make the prompt however specific as you want but i just thought that would be such a cool and interesting idea for a fic. :)

A/N: GOD ANON SUCH A GOOD IDEA yk i'm gonna put a bit of my own experience as a trans man (that went through 7 hrs of a con w binders on… *shivers*). As always, please excuse the mistakes as english is my 2nd language and enjoy Anon!

Join You.

Tags: HBO Joel Miller x ftm!Reader, Reader uses He/Him pronouns, Trans and in an apocalypse? Can't get any worse, oh wait yes it can, Binding struggles, fluff, meet-cute(?), Do you count meeting a dad and his kid cute?, maybe, It’s Joel and Ellie of course they’re cute, meeting, humor, Snarky!Ellie, tired-dad!Joel, soft ending, no angst, maybe a bit, it is EP.3 after all, slight OOC

[Starts from the end of Ep.3 of The Last of Us] Meeting a stone-cold man and his curious stray kid wasn't really on your apocalypse agenda, neither was falling in love with him. But then again, when has life ever gone your way? Hell, even god fucked up from when you were born, mixed up the damn gender. So here you are, helping him and his kid ready themselves to head to Wyoming, while you hitch a ride. Maybe it’ll do you some good, finally finding company with another human being

—

God why was it so hot?

While you keep hauling what remains of your backpack through the path, the sun beats down on you. Despite pulling off your hoodie, now left in only a shirt, the heat threatens to boil you whole. The sides of your binder digs in slightly and it makes moving another endeavor. The two bottles of water inside your bag are quickly diminishing with every break you take, now only half of one bottle remains.

You groan, eyes becoming hazy with every blink, when suddenly, you spot a chain-linked fence meters in front of you. A shot of energy courses through you as hope rises, quickly jogging to the area while you wave your hands, but trying not to make a sound in case any infected comes running by. 

You stopped just shy of the chain link, glancing at the high-voltage sign. You've been electrocuted once, you're not about to get electrocuted twice. You opted to look around instead, glancing at the various put-together houses, and the church in the far corner of the neighborhood. Despite the leaves littering the streets, flowers bloomed encircling the town's middle. You turn your head to find a way in, maybe a chance for you to vault over without getting burned, or maybe dig underneath-

"Turn around." 

You freeze. The hairs on your nape start to rise, heart rate following suit as a bead of sweat drops. "Turn around, and drop your bag. Slowly." 

You gulp, carefully moving one foot and the other until you fully turn, now face to face with a gun trained at your head, behind it, a man with eyes sharp enough to cut through skin is ready to pull the trigger at sight. Your eyes cautiously glance at the girl behind him, the same vicious stare with a sharp knife in her hand. 

As instructed, you slip your backpack and hear it hit the ground, before the man tilts his head, indicating for you to kick it away, and so you did. 

"Drop your weapons,"

"I don't have a gun," Your voice wavers, hands shaking slightly as it hovers beside you, a surrender you’re hopeful the man will take. He doesn't. 

"Drop anything other than a gun, then," He leaves no room for negotiations. You blink, before taking out the pocket knife and knuckle dusters from your pocket, throwing them to his direction. The guy raises his brow at the items and you shrug, still hesitant despite trying to appear nonchalant. 

With the gun still aimed at you, he picks both of the weapons up, storing them, before he stands again. "What's in the bag?" 

"Some… Canned food, water bottles, a lighter, other stuff," 

"How did you find this place?"

"I just…" Now that, you wondered yourself. You remembered leaving your group when a sketchy religious guy showed up and everyone started preaching to him, going nowhere in particular, just out of the growing conservative group and somewhere safe. Wandering for weeks before stumbling here, thinking you finally found another group willing to accept your scrappy ass. "I don't know, I don't even know this place existed, I was wandering around then came across…" You tilted your head back to the fence.

A pause. The man then speaks in a hushed tone with the girl, before they both nodded, the girl evidently less cautious after the whispers. "Empty your bag." 

You did as so, slowly reaching for the pack and unlatching the top, turning it upside down and letting the contents drop. Bottles, food, plasters, your lighter, a torch, other knick-knacks you couldn't resist picking up, all falling to the ground. When a flutter of paper falls, the girl perks slightly, before she retreats when you noticed. "I-I'm alone-"

"How do we know you're alone?" 

Your eyes looked around before you shrug. "I… Got separated from my group. A weird guy joined us and separated some people, and he uh… Kicked me out. Im alone, I promise, I don't have anyone following me from my group or from… Anywhere,"

Another pause. He seems to turn the info around his mind, before he looks back at the girl, she only does the same.

"Alright." He nods, eyeing the clutter on the ground. "Walk, slowly, away from the fence." 

Taking steps away from the chain until your position and the man change, you stand far from the fence while he and the girl stands just a meter away. He nods to the girl and she nods back. Now, her dark eyes are focused on you, while the man unlocks the gate to the place. 

"What's with the book?" She jerks to the opened pages on the ground.

"Just a journal. Keeps the mind sane," She hums, then you hear a click of the fence being opened. The man ushers the girl in, before he looks back at you, standing defenseless outside just meters away, disheveled and wary. He huffs.

"Get in here, quick," 

Your face beams. "Thank you, so much," You breathe before picking up your bag and contents, then jogging inside and the man locks the gate again. 

The neighborhood looks as if lived in, despite the run-down houses except one that stands grand and white a couple of streets down. "You two live here?"

"No, someone we know does," The girl answers. The man begins walking to the house, the girl following loosely behind him, before she turns.

She still has a hint of caution in her eyes, yet she asks, "What's your name? I'm Ellie, that's Joel," 

"Pleasure meeting you Ellie, Joel," Ellie grins, Joel doesn't turn. You give her your name, at which she smiles before looking past you.

"Do you write often?" 

"Just for fun, nowhere to publish it anyways," 

She nods. "What do you write about?"

"Stuff I see, birds, leafs, interesting flowers I pass by," You begin walking towards the house as well, following them. "I have pressed dried flowers in there," 

"Pressed dried? Like you have dead flowers in your journal?"

"Sure," You grin as she chuckles, turning around when Joel opens the house's gates and motions for Ellie to stop, so you do too.

"I'm checking inside first. You-" His eyes meets yours, you gulp. "Stay here, look out for any infected," 

"In here? This is basically a fortress," 

"Once I'm done, then I'll call you," You only nod, afraid to aggravate Joel even further. You'd hate to appear annoying to a man that offered you safety. 

Minutes pass, you idle outside, taking in the scenery. There are flowers in fitted pots, already dry and dying. The fence that surrounds the house Joel and Ellie still looks put together, the paint scraping would indicate age but otherwise looks fine. There's a brown garage door off the side. You wonder if it stored any vehicles. 

Suddenly, Joel storms outside, making you jump. His otherwise stoic face has a sheen layer of pain, of apprehension, before you spotted a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, before he turns and crumples the paper. You stand to the side, nearing the gates, while Joel takes his time gathering himself. The urge to ask, to comfort, almost overwhelms you before he speaks. "Help me check the car,"

A key dangles in his hand, and you follow suit. He opens the garage door, and you move to the back of what looks like a covered car. Sure enough, once you and Joel pull the cover up, a blue pick-up comes into view. "Nice," you smooth your hand on the rear door. Then suddenly, a sharp bang from the front, Joel closes the engine harder than needed. You gulp.

Contemplation appears on Joel's face again. You didn't dare to move. His eyes search the room, until it lands on something out of your view, on top of a refrigerator. His eyes track down, then he stalks to said fridge and opens it. Seems like he finds what he was looking for and Joel closes it back.

“You can't come with us.”

“What?” It sounded small, way too small to your liking, until you realized it was your voice.

“We’re going to Wyoming, either way there’s no space for-”

“Please, Joel,” You find yourself leaning towards him, your knuckles white on the trunk of the car. “I don't- I have nowhere to go,” Joel opens his mouth to interject before you continue; “And I'm not asking to join you, and Ellie. I just…” You inhale sharply.

“Please let me go with you two, to Wyoming. Then just leave me there.” You blink the growing panic back down. “Just a ride. Then I'll be off your backs. I promise,” 

The man standing meters away from you, hand still firmly on the edge of the fridge, eyes dark and stone cold, ponders over your words. You can practically feel the consideration, the slight glance from him when he meets your eyes, before he turns to the door, then back to you. “Just a ride,”

“Just a ride. You have my word.”

Then, painstakingly slow, he nods then walks to exit the garage, making you exhale a relief breath. "Check the fuel, I'll go check on Ellie," 

You simply nodded as he exited the garage. You go and check the fuel from the meter inside the car first, then find it empty. For safety reasons, you think. So you check around the garage for any fuel canisters. You found a couple behind some boxes, so you pulled them out to ready them when Joel needs it.

You deem it enough snooping around so you return to the house, just in time to hear Ellie ask, "So what now?" 

You knock on the door lightly, to alert the two, and Ellie glances at you. You two share a look at Joel, before he huffs. “We grab what we can,” 

He passes you, taking note of your curiosity, before he goes through the house with you and Ellie in tow. He goes through a couple of rooms, before he pulls at a hatch and it gives in, a staircase leading to what you presume was a basement. 

Upon entering, the room is lit up with working LEDs. You and Ellie spotted the wall of guns first, you blowing a low whistle. “Ho-ly shit.” Ellie’s eyes were on the many firearms mounted neatly.

“This guy’s a genius,” She grins and looks around. Your hand reaches for a mounted shock gun, almost touching it, before you retreat when you hear Joel messing with the other things in the room. You noted a steady hum of music, something you could recognize but not pinpoint. Ellie turns to walk over to where Joel was looking at the monitors.

“Why was the music on?”

“If he didn't reset the countdown every few weeks,” His eyes went over something. “This playlist would run over the radios,”

“‘80s…” The two share a look of realization, you can visibly see Joel gulp.

“Grab some cans from over there,” Joel points behind him. “Nothin’ dented, or swollen,” He mainly points it out to Ellie as she moves, but his eyes linger on you so you also get moving.

“Dude,”

“No.” You turn around to spot Ellie standing near the wall of firearms. 

“There’s a wall of them,” And she’d be right, but Joel only fixed her a stare that made her nod in defeat, almost making you giggle. Joel goes back to the monitors while you and Ellie search through the cans.

You’ve emptied most of the top shelves, leaving the clearly dented ones, while Ellie picked apart the bottom half, looking at each label with fascination. Once you’ve got your pack full, you crouch near her when she looks at one with interest. 

“‘Chef Boyardee’,” You smile as she turns to you. “They got great taste,” 

“Is this what you all eat?” She asks both you and Joel as she turns to face him. “Like, before the infection thing,”

“Well, most foods weren't in cans, if that's what you’re asking,” You absentmindedly pick at one of the cans' labels, already peeling. “Big shops, grocery stores, would sell raw stuff so you can cook them,”

“Cook anything?” Her eyes gleam, making you huff out a chuckle. 

“Sure, as long as there's a recipe, I for one can't cook for shit,” She chuckles, before putting the can into her bag. As you and Ellie make your way upstairs, you pass Joel whose eyes soften as you let Ellie climb up first.

Ellie found a bag and she scurries off to shove toilet paper in it. You made your way into the bathroom to find the medicine cabinet fully stocked. “Fuck yeah,” 

You grab all that your arms can fit and run back to where Ellie was emptying the storage room. Setting all the medicine and emergency kit into the bag, you head back to look under the sink of the bathroom to find a couple of tampons and pads. Another victory. As you reach your hand into the cabinet, a roll of body tape falls out. Checking back to hear Ellie's busy with her work, you stuff the tape into your pocket and head out with the packs of pads and tampons.

Ellie looks up from where she’s hunched inside the storage area. “Hell yeah,” She nods as you stuff the packs into the bag.

Joel emerges from the bunker and heads upstairs just as you and Ellie finish filling up the bag. Ellie follows Joel and so do you, still contemplating what the girl is to Joel or who Joel is to Ellie. Though you shrug it off when Joel opens a door into a worn room, decorations vary on the walls but he beelines into, what you presume, is a closet. He opens it and looks around, clicking a light on, before he settles on a box and pulls it out, setting it on the bed.

The box is labeled ‘Women's shirt, SM-MED’ so Ellie looks through it. She pulls out a red shirt that she fits over her front to make sure, before she glances at you. You only nod in approval, giving her a thumbs up, making her grin and set the article aside.

Joel emerges with a box labeled ‘Long Sleeve Shirts’ and goes back in. You stood opposite of Ellie between the bed, hesitant to touch the box, before Ellie took it first and opened it. She notices your hovering hand and falters on the flaps. “Oh, you wanna take this one?”

“Those won't fit him,” Joel barks from inside the closet, almost making you jump. But instead, his tone is like poking fun at you, so you roll your eyes, huffing.  

“Haha, real funny man,” Your hand reaches back for the box Ellie was opening, before another box abruptly drops next to your hand, affectionately labeled ‘Mens shirt, SM-MED’.

“This could,” His eyes met yours before he ducks back into the closet. 

You stand, almost in shock, elevated from both relief and happiness as it blooms inside you. The box is still closed, sitting just far from you, and the label almost makes your eyes gloss. You swallow a heavy lump, before you notice Ellie's fleeting glance from you to the box, then back to you. “Go ahead dude, those would be way too big for me,” She shrugs.

And so you went through the box and picked out the articles you deemed good enough to fit your form. 

After sorting through the box of clothes, the three of you make your way into the garage. You stand near the door in order to not step in Joel's way while Ellie pokes around, but if you were being honest with yourself, you just wanted to admire the dynamic between Ellie and Joel. Joel has found an all-purpose charger, hooking it up to the car battery. After a minute, the charger begins to work as he surveys it. “Needs another hour,”

“They have hot water!” Ellie cheers as she turns on a faucet from the other end of the room. “I’m takin’ a shower,” She declares as she begins to make her way to where you're standing.

“Then you’re showering, cuz’ seriously,” She huffs, making a disgruntled face at Joel, which made you chuckle. Joel only deadpans as she moves past you. “You too!” She hauls back as she absentmindedly points in your direction.

That made both of your eyebrows shoot up, sputtering for an answer. Your eyes briefly meet Joels, a slight smirk tugging on his lips, before you yourself huffed out a laugh. “I should…” You falter, unable to think of an excuse, before jogging to join Ellie in the house.

Ellie finished her shower quickly, clad in the red shirt she picked and the long sleeves she must've taken out of the box. When she exits the room to find you waiting in the hallway, your pile of clothes a bit taller than her, and arches a brow. “A lot of layers,”

“I get cold easily,” You shrug, making her nod and promptly go downstairs. 

After making sure the door locks, you start to discard your tattered clothes, pulling out your hoodie to also discard it, sticky with grime and dirt. You carefully set your binder on the sink and finally relish the feeling of steady water beating down your body.

Once you’re dry with a towel hanging on your hips, you take out the body tape and fasten a makeshift binder, not too tight to avoid any mishaps. Your dirty binder has been washed under the faucet, so it's now wrung dry enough to be in a plastic bag and shoved into your pack. You put your hair in a towel wrap while you put on deodorant, then the clothes you picked out, zipping up the pants and fastening a belt around it. Pulling on the top, then a t-shirt over it, before a jacket to top it off. You pull off the towel from your hair, leaving it damp enough for it to dry in the wind.

As you walk to the door, a mirror stands just next to it. You spot your reflection, no longer with streaks of dried blood and dirt, hair array from days without proper cleaning. A man with deep eye bags but an otherwise put-together demeanor stares back. You smile, arranging your drying hair a bit, before exiting the room. 

You meet Ellie downstairs, looking around and touching the various items scattered about the still-warm house. You make your way to the dining table, and the unfinished food on the table makes a gnawing feeling in your gut appear. Not the rotting stench, but something significant happened here, if you could judge the wine glasses sat neatly next to each other, now supporting dust instead of its usual amber contents. You swallow down the feeling of what has happened and instead take a seat in the vacant area of the table, pointedly away from the rotting food. As Ellie paces around, you take out your book, flipping through the pages of various notes and entries you’ve written.

You pick out one dried lily you pressed months ago. “See? Dead flowers,” Ellie turns to you, before she spots the flower you’re holding and chuckles.

“There's a lot out front y’know,” She adds. You hum and nod, before returning back to your pages. 

Joel enters the house just as you turn a page. You smile, nodding to the stairs behind the dividing wall. “Showers all yours,” You said. He assesses you, taking a second too long which makes you break eye contact, our eyes back to your book, a steady heat growing on your face. Then he glances at Ellie before he nods and heads to the stairs. Ellie gives you a look once, twice, before she smirks and continues her poking. 

A couple of minutes passes, before you hear a sequence of steps, a muffled ‘oh shit’ maybe coming from Ellie, then you pick your head up from the deep pages and find Ellie standing in front of Joel, combed back curls, highlighting his steadily graying edges, beard shaved neatly, a fitting plaid t-shirt and dark jeans are what he picked from the box, it seems. “Well, don't you look pretty,”

“I agree,” Ellie joins before you can explode from the embarrassing compliment you sputter out. 

“Shut up,” Joel answers, throwing the deodorant you wore earlier into Ellie’s hands. You don't miss the tint of red on Joel's ears, highlighted by the sun coming from the front door. 

“Nice,” She begins to put it on, before you gape. 

“Wait, you didn't put it on?”

“What, I didn't see it!” She retorts, putting the cap back on. 

“Ellie, ew,” The girl throws the deodorant at you, which you caught easily, both of you giggling. 

“Come on you two,” Joel huffs from the door. Ellie quickly puts her pack on as you put your book inside yours, securing it on your back. 

You help Joel with the gear on the pick-ups tub, making sure it’s secured and putting the water-proof tarp over it. Joel and Ellie get in the car as you open the garage door, then slide in yourself into the back seat. Ellie’s eyes practically shine as she prods at the car's dashboard, pulling down the vanity mirror, then messing with the rearview before she pushes it, promptly displaying you in the backseat and Joel next to her.

“It’s your first time in a car?” He stares at the curious girl.

“It’s like a spaceship,” She answers, still in a trance as she prods at the AC flap. 

“No, it's like a piece of shit Chevy S10,” Joel’s answer makes you chuckle from the back seat, rearranging your pack. “But it’ll get us there, I think.”

“Seatbelt,” Ellie turns to Joel, a slight confusion in her eyes, before Joel sighs and pulls the belt over her then hands the rest to Ellie. “Seatbelt.”

She grins, then clicks the seatbelt in place. “So cool,”

You grin from where you’re sat, Joel spotting you from the rearview mirror, your eyes meet briefly which makes you duck your head, settle into the seat and promptly look out the window. Joel starts the car and it hums to life, you can feel the engine purring from the recharged battery and fuel. 

Ellie fumbles and opens the compartment under her, pulling out a cassette tape. Joel notices the girl grinning from what she found. “Would ya leave it,”

“Put it back. Ellie,” Joel's exasperated tone only spurs Ellie more as she slides it into the radio, already pressing play. Your grin matches Ellie's as a melody begins to fill the car, eyes on the various houses you pass. Ellie clearly doesn't recognize the song, her hand reaching for the stop or skip button, before Joel perks up.

“No, no, leave it. This is good,” He says, turning the car to where the gate is meters away. “This is Linda Ronstadt, y’know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don't know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Her deadpan expression makes you chuckle, leaning into the comfy seat as you settle into the song. Joel, as if looking for support, spots you from the rearview and arches a brow. You only shrug with a smile on your lips, nodding. 

“Oh man,” Joel glances at the radio, the gate already in front of the car.

“Eh, it's better than nothing,” Ellie smiles, glancing out to the glowing fields, the evening sun already basking its shine on the earth. You sigh, entranced by the singer's voice, clearly to Joel's liking. He pushes the code for the gate and it opens. He puts the remote back, and advances forward, into the road in front.

—

It's been months since your first meeting with Joel and Ellie.

Now, settled into Jacksons easy living commune, you live just next door to Joels and Ellies.

You remembered when they both left some weeks ago, something about looking for a lab, but you didn't catch why. You remembered the way Ellie clung to you as they were getting ready to leave. She's grown fond of you, sharing the same humor and references, even if you’re still years older than her. So when her hands shook as it digs into your jacket, you pull her closer as well, letting her bury her head into the crook of your neck. Then you pressed a kiss on her forehead, mumbled ‘Stay safe,’ before she let go then headed to her horse. Then there was Joel.

Joel, who you were once scared of. Who you helped with gathering wood for the fire. Who you shared breakfast with the morning after leaving those houses. Who you caught smirking at Ellie's joke. Who you ran with when Wyoming went to shit. Who let you stay with him and Ellie without you asking, moving through that insane city until you found the brothers. Who you watched bury them when Sam turned. Who was the gracious ticket that let you into Jacksons. 

Whom you’ve grown feelings for. 

When he was about to leave, you were hesitant to touch him. Anything beyond a helping hand on his arm or shoulder was a breach, so you’ve always kept your hand to yourself. That's what you thought until Joel pulls you into him, almost pushing all of the oxygen out of you. You returned the embrace with equal strength, blinking away the worry gathering in your eyes. It lasted long enough before he pulled back and joined Ellie on the horse. The massive gates opened just slightly, before the two exits, unknown to you how long they’ll leave. Or if they’ll even come back.

But they did, with the two closer than ever.

Now, the three of you simply live in Jacksons. A shout away from each other. Sometimes Ellie would come by, unannounced of course, and hang on your couch while you do chores. Sometimes she’ll look around your collection of books that you salvaged from each import of stuff every month. She’ll find something that interests her and borrow it, bringing it back to her house. On the rare chance that you cook, she’ll stay to eat, asking if you made the food yourself or if it came from a recipe. You'd bat at her arm, saying ‘Of course it’s from a recipe Ellie, y’know I’ll burn the house down.’ And she'll laugh.

Sometimes she brings Joel over. He stays for coffee while Ellie is busy with something. Sometimes you two talk, about something or nothing. About the on-goings of Jacksons. About your shift at the community school and theater. About his shifts on patrols and fixing up old buildings for repurposes. Sometimes just to sit and drink, basking in the pure joy of watching Ellie scuttle around, finding things of interest, and asking you questions about your latest project. Those times are when he’ll shuffle closer, hesitant near your lax stance as you laugh at what Ellie said. He’ll put his cup down and carefully, oh so slowly, brush his hands against yours, and you’ll blink, red steadily growing up your neck. You smile then, relaxing your hand, letting Joel set the pace. Then finally, in the privacy of your house, between Joel and you, he laces his fingers with yours, the warmth of his hands burns yours. But you endure, even welcoming his slightly shaking hold, and you’ll squeeze tight. You turn your head to meet Joel's dark browns, the creases on the side of his eyes dent slightly as he smiles, and you smile too, dropping your head to his broad shoulder. 

Then Ellie would look at your entwined hands and scoff. “That's so gay,” 

Joel would immediately cross his arms while he retorts that she is also gay, and Ellie would quip back another snarky response. You’d laugh, holding your middle and trying not to stumble from where you stand. 

Requests are open

[empressofthewind]

Hi, I'm the one that sent that longer ask recently - thank you so much for responding. So it’s not that the situation at the end in your setting is all that different, but it’s a matter of perspective. That makes so much sense.  

After reading your thoughts I have a couple follow up questions if you’d entertain it (last ones I promise). First because you mentioned interrogating Mogi, why do you think Mello brought Near into it at all? I know he says "my turn to use you" but I get the sense it’s not so much sincere as a pretext and excuse as if to say "don't think this means I'm backing down". Because I think he’s competent enough that he could’ve interrogated Mogi by himself. No doubt he has the skills and confidence to do it on his own since he has the real lived experience needed to rise in the mafia where he'd have to flawlessly prove himself to a very tough crowd a hundred times over. If he kept Mogi to himself it would have in theory given him the big advantage instead of handing it over to his opponent. But the way he set it up put the power in Near's hands...there was always a chance that Near could’ve just said ‘lol thanks’ and hung up the phone leaving Mello high and dry. It seems odd somehow.

And finally, as I understand it your belief is in canon Mello’s priority never wavered from winning the competition but by the end he’d given up hope for that. But also he acted to save Near’s life and gain HIM the victory. I’m trying to wrap my head around this. If he thought there’s a good chance Near is putting his life in danger by having his name written down and possibly overlooking Kira's counter-move, why act at all? If he were right wouldn't it present an opportunity for Mello to claim victory? If Near dies in his confrontation with Kira due to his own mistake…well, that seems like he’s lost fair and square. Afterwards Mello could use Near’s death as the evidence to confront Kira on his own and finally come out the winner. On the other hand if Mello was wrong about there being sketchy business afoot and Near did cleanly confront Kira and win, the situation ends in just the same loss that Mello in theory already accepted so at that point he can go and off himself or whatever. I’m probably not explaining this well, but hopefully you get an idea of what I mean, that there seems to be a bit of disconnect there? ugh sorry it's that I'm trying to understand the end and struggling 😅

Hello again!! These are all very good questions - there's a lot to unpack here so I'm going to do something slightly different and break it up into smaller chunks:

~~~

Why Mello Involved Near in his Interrogation of Mogi

I know he says "my turn to use you" but I get the sense it’s not so much sincere as a pretext and excuse as if to say "don't think this means I'm backing down".

I have a lot to say about this point. I think it's perhaps important to make a distinction between what Mello's intentions actually are, and what he aims to achieve by saying this, because I think these two concepts are entirely divorced from each other. So we'll start with the first point.

The thing about Mello is that he uses people. He hates being used, but he wouldn't have gotten as far as he has without using, if that makes sense. He likes to be the one with all the power, the brains behind an operation where everyone else does the actual dirty work for him. At this stage in his investigation, however, he is working alone. He doesn't have the resources he gained from the mafia. He hasn't linked up with Matt yet. He doesn't have Sidoh on his side anymore. He is operating by himself, and as such, he is limited in what he can do. So, the only person he can use is Near. It wouldn't be the first time he's used Near - he acquired all Near's information via the spy to get ahead in the first place - so he's clearly not opposed to the idea by any means. It's worth noting that this is the closest they get to actually working together in the series, so I'm also convinced he has to believe he's using Near to avoid confronting his own cognitive dissonance about it.

Re: why he tells Near this; I definitely don't think this is meant to be some kind informative statement to make his intentions clear, regardless of whether he means them. I think you're in the right ballpark here. He feels as though he's been used by Near, so he wants to make Near feel the same, and in the process, to show him that he still antagonises Near despite appearing like an ally on the surface. So the interpretation of "don't think this means I'm backing down" is pretty accurate, I'd say. My other possible explanation would be that he believes saying will encourage Near to comply with him. Like, "you already used me, therefore you have to let me use you". We don't have much context to determine what their relationship looked like in the past, but Mello has a lot of hangups about keeping things fair (i.e. giving Near information in return for the photograph, because he doesn't like the idea of being in debt to him), so it's possible Near has demonstrated a similar mentality.

Because I think he’s competent enough that he could’ve interrogated Mogi by himself. No doubt he has the skills and confidence to do it on his own since he has the real lived experience needed to rise in the mafia where he'd have to flawlessly prove himself to a very tough crowd a hundred times over.

Theoretically yes, he could have done it himself, but his choice method of interrogation is kidnapping. I don't think he has the same raw persuasive power that Near does, which he seems to acknowledge in this scene ("I know you're good at that stuff"), so he draws information out of people by force instead. There are two problems with this. One, as mentioned above, he lacks the resources. He has never kidnapped anyone himself. In the case of Sayu and Kitamura, his mafia guys committed the crime themselves, and with Takada, he needed the cooperation of Matt and Lidner to get her away from NHN. I have to imagine it would be incredibly difficult for Mello to orchestrate the kidnapping of Mogi on his own, especially without a secure base, if he hasn't recruited another team of allies by this point.

The second problem is that, as far as he knows, Kira could still be anyone. He was told that it was Matsuda, now he's being told by Lidner that it's the second L, whose identity is unknown to him. Mogi could have the power to kill, and Mello's name is known to the task force, so revealing his face to anyone puts him at risk. This is also mentioned in Near's inner monologue, in which he specifically says "This way, Mello won't be in danger". He also follows this up by saying "Mello wouldn't try to kill me", and I agree with him on that front, but I wouldn't be surprised if Mello thought of this as a bit of a "fuck you" to Near by sending him a guy who could potentially be deadly.

If he kept Mogi to himself it would have in theory given him the big advantage instead of handing it over to his opponent. But the way he set it up put the power in Near's hands...there was always a chance that Near could’ve just said ‘lol thanks’ and hung up the phone leaving Mello high and dry. It seems odd somehow.

I think there's a fairly simple answer to this, which is that the purpose of the phone call is just not something that benefits Near. Mello wants Near to make Mogi say something that will incriminate L as Kira. Near is already confident that L is Kira, so he doesn't care about confirmation. That's strictly something Mello needs to hear. Mello "[keeping] Mogi to himself" would not place him at any distinct advantage, because it would only provide him with information that Near already knows. The reason it's beneficial for Near to let Mello hear this information is because it opens the door for Mello to potentially catch Kira himself. Near appears to want Kira caught regardless of who does it, so this is ultimately beneficial.

~~~

Why Mello Saved Near's Life

And finally, as I understand it your belief is in canon Mello’s priority never wavered from winning the competition but by the end he’d given up hope for that. But also he acted to save Near’s life and gain HIM the victory.

TOTALLY see what you’re saying here and I think this was just bad wording on my part in the original post. So my general opinion is that Mello has gone through a lot of character development since we first see him. When I say his priority was always to win, I mean this not in the sense that he thought dying was a victory, but in the sense that any action that allowed Near to win was not a true triumph. Thus, he couldn’t possibly consider it a win, even a joint one, when Near was ultimately the one to take credit for it, and he saw his sacrifice as surrendering instead. Essentially he never abandoned the idea that there could only be one winner, even if that winner was Near!

If he thought there’s a good chance Near is putting his life in danger by having his name written down and possibly overlooking Kira's counter-move, why act at all? If he were right wouldn't it present an opportunity for Mello to claim victory?

I think perhaps this excerpt (from here) from another of my analyses might help answer this for you:

there’s also the fact that his name is out there, and he knows that, so he probably thinks there’s a high risk he will die or be imprisoned regardless, so at least this way, he’s dying for a cause. and I think it’s also important to remember that even though he hates Near, he believes that Near is better than him. he was raised on that belief; it’s been drilled into him since he was a kid. that’s why he hates Near. so even though he’s dedicated his entire life to beating Near, I do think in a situation like this, where he thinks that one of them is going to die, he would probably assume it’s better to be him.

My point here is essentially that there is not really a future for Mello beyond the case. Even if Mello did "win", what would he do? He already forfeited the role of L; it's not like Near would just give that up because of some five-year-old competition that he was never really invested in. And Mello is a wanted criminal, so his other options are pretty bleak. He could spend the rest of his life on the run, but why? What is the point? I think he started to realise that he had to accept defeat, because the only goal he had left to chase was his own pride.

If Near dies in his confrontation with Kira due to his own mistake…well, that seems like he’s lost fair and square. Afterwards Mello could use Near’s death as the evidence to confront Kira on his own and finally come out the winner.

The issue with this is that it eliminates the entire point of winning. If Near is dead, who is he proving himself to? Who is around to see him claim that victory? It's not like Roger cares, and there's no one else at Wammy's House who mattered to him the same way Near did.

On the other hand if Mello was wrong about there being sketchy business afoot and Near did cleanly confront Kira and win, the situation ends in just the same loss that Mello in theory already accepted so at that point he can go and off himself or whatever. I’m probably not explaining this well, but hopefully you get an idea of what I mean, that there seems to be a bit of disconnect there?

I do get what you mean! Honestly I think Mello was extremely confident that there was a hole in his plan, based on his line "Then I guess I'm going to have to do it". The phrasing makes him sound extremely sure of himself, so I don't think he had any doubt that Near would die if he didn't act.

~~~

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this answers things for you - sorry it took me a fair while to write 🫶

[princess-of-the-corner]

Amnesia!Dabi & AtLA Todorokis

My tablet has decided to be finicky, so submitting this all in a big chunk-

1) AtLa Todorokis

(Assuming CC!Canon)

Toya just looking at Princess “I Must Please My Dad And Be The Best!” Azula, and going “oh, you’re in for a bad time.” Somehow, he and Azula end up sparring, and then screaming and sobbing all over each other. 

Fuyumi and Rei being “dismissed” is less “Woman” and more that the Fire Nation is a very militaristic and power centred society, so the demure housewives get ignored. Jokes on them, by the end of the first week Rei has blackmail on every member of Ozai’s cabinet, and Fuyumi has the undying loyalty of most of his staff.

Natsuo is less “God, how primitive” and more “Ok, I get that you don’t have access to the same technology, but here’s how to make a very simple freezer so these medicines last longer”. Also “ok, I’m like … 80% sure that this plant is the same one where I’m from, in which case you should stop using it, and use this one instead, it’s less addictive”. Or, alternately, “Oh, so this plant does all this cool stuff, isn’t addictive, and grows like mad? Neat, how many seeds can I buy?”

Shoto takes one look at Zuko, decides “Ah, yes. This must be another version of me from an alternate reality.” Zuko … doesn’t really know what to do with that, but the kid seems alright, all things considered. Shoto also kind of … smacks Zuko in the face (metaphorically) cause part of the problem is that Zuko is surrounded by politicians and manipulative power-mongers. Everybody keeps talking around problems, or making Zuko second-guess himself, meanwhile Shoto “What Is A Filter?” Todoroki is like, “I get where you’re coming from, but that was a dick move.”

Enji is gritting his teeth the entire time, cause like. They’re in a strange place, they have to play by the rules until they figure out how to get home. But the more time he spends with Ozai, the more he wants to punt this smug bastard into the sun, and he has to keep reminding himself why that might be a bad idea.

Finally, Ozai decides to have Enji assassinated, cause the Fire Spirit and his family are causing all kinds of political problems. Only, of course, it fails pretty spectacularly, and since it involved using Azula as bait, she’s firmly against him now. Somehow, it ends with Zuko, Azula, Ty Lee, Mai, Shoto, Toya, Fuyumi, and Natsuo going on the run, while Enji and Rei team up with an escaping Iroh to wreck havoc and cover their retreat. The group run into the Gaang, and Zuko has to be like “So, firstly, Sorry for all the times I tried to kill you, secondly-”

At some point, Aang uses his “Spirit Medium” powers to try and connect with someone from the MHA world, ends up contacting Fumikage. 

2) Amnesia!Dabi

I think I sent this ask already, but I am becoming increasingly attached to the idea that Amnesia!Dabi as an AU is one where, for whatever reason, escaping AfO is actually not that hard. Like, in order:

Dabi - literally walked out of the sketchy clinic he woke up in. He was coming out of a coma, covered in half-healed burns, and still fighting off some lingering sedation. Took 15 hours before anyone found out he dipped. He proceeded to “evade” AfO for the next 3 years, to the point the guy thought he was dead, and only knew otherwise when Dabi walked into the bar to join the LoV. Finds out Dabi was basically two streets over the whole time.

Himiko (and Dabi again) - during the smack down involved with Katsuki’s Great Escape, AfO somehow misses Dabi covering Kats’ retreat, and then fleeing with an injured Himiko. When they don’t show up again, everyone assumes they got caught or went to ground, and only manage to piece together any kind of idea what happened when a news story breaks about the Togas suing UA over Himiko. Then the news Dabi=Toya, and his memory loss. Given the publicity involved on both Himiko and Dabi, unless AfO wants to really blow the fact that him being in prison doesn’t mean much, he “decides” they aren’t worth it.

Magne - left shortly before the Toya=Dabi story broke, but after the Himiko court case got announced. Just … left. Decided this clearly wasn’t the kind of group she thought it was, told everyone goodbye, good luck, and left. Jin, Compress and Spinner still have her number. AfO is unaware she left at all until sometime after the League joins up with Overhaul.

Jin - managed to escape a facility that was SUPPOSED to be secure, while severely injured from a procedure that stole his Quirk. Managed to escape, get help, and lead a bunch of heroes to said facility, forcing AfO to abandon it. Is now under the protection of both Enji, and U.A., and when the HPSC try to get at him, Nezu “reveals” Jin’s the pioneer patient for a new program about “rehabbing” villains or something. Hero support skyrockets. HPSC support continues to down-swerve.

Compress - Undermines a fairly important operation to nab a powerful Quirk user, saves several heroes and adjacent from losing their Quirks, and even rescue the current holder of OfA. The resulting de-aging, turning Compress from 32 to 16, somehow ends up with “Mr. Compress” being “dead”, as teen him doesn’t remember being an adult! (I mean, my idea is he … kind of does? Like, general impressions, or big moments, he does remember. He knows he WAS an adult, and why he did what he did. But Eri’s Quirk went a little haywire, so for all intents and purposes, Compress is, indeed, 16 now.) Somehow, ends up adopted by Aizawa & Mic, cause Eri sees him as a big brother figure.

Kurogiri - K, so like. Originally, he got nabbed during some big operation, right? However, so much is different here, that AfO is just trying to get these guys to lay low. So, instead - bear with me - Kurogiri gets sighted during an outing for groceries, and during a scuffle, suffers a head injury that abruptly causes him to remember his time as Oboro, and forget/muddle much of his time as Kurogiri. Disoriented, he accidentally portals himself into Aizawa and Mic’s living room. Shenanigans ensue. Tomura and Spinner figure he got caught. However, they decide to tell AfO he straight up died. AfO, for some reason, decides “yeah, that checks out”.

Tomura & Spinner - so, my general idea for this is. AfO has decided that “if you want something done right, do it yourself”, and has used a combination of Overhauls’ Quirk plus some others to reconstruct his own body, and then with Jin’s Quirk, is going to make an army of himself. He also decides he’s going to yoink Tomura’s Quirk, cause Decay is pretty powerful, and then he’ll kill Tomura on live TV, telling the whole story about Nana & Yagi, and OfA, really hammer in the message that he’s awesome and all is lost. While this mostly goes to plan, he also ends up broadcasting Spinner decking him in the face, grabbing the de-Quirked Tenko, and escaping while calling him a “bitchass knock-off Palpatine wannabe motherfucker” on the way out. The boys get an unexpected assist from a nearby Hawks & Miruko, proceed to tell everyone everything they know about AfO’s plans.

Much later, after everything is settled, if this ends the way CC will, it takes a few weeks for Yoichi and AfO to have a proper conversation, because Yoichi just. Can’t stop laughing.

-

Everyone easily leaving AfO is fucking great.

Also yes let Rei get blackmail!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for getting my polycule to cut someone off?

Okay, so, my bfs started dating this guy we were previously friends with. He had always made me uncomfortable, but I don't want to dictate who they can and can't date. So I stayed off to the side, trying to put together why exactly he made me uncomfortable as hell.

Well, one day we were all talking and he decided to mention a weird dream he had, completely unrelated to our conversation, that was about me being Jewish. It just stuck out to me that the reason I may be uncomfortable is because it felt tokenizing to suddenly bring that up when everyone else was talking about something else. This, and he would come to me asking if he was allowed to wear patches with the 🚫 and swastika in it without really considering I never said I was comfortable with that before.

I called him out on it after days of feeling so uncomfortable I isolated. He apologized and one of my bfs was there for when he apologized because, I admit, I was trying my damndest not to address the issue out of fear I would be broken up with.

After this, he kept making sexual passes at me and my main bf. Me and him had sex once, at the very start of us getting to know each other. He seemed experienced, so I decided it'd be best to have my first time with him. After that I showed no sexual interest, but he also kept wanting to have sex with my main bf who witnessed the apology. Which, was fine by me, but I didn't want to be involved.

When I stepped away from that, and my bf never had sex with him, so he treated me differently. Or well, it seemed like he tried to treat me normally but then he would look at me like he was trying to get a read on me.

Flash forward, this guy's fiance breaks up with him so he starts to rely on my bfs more. The whole situation is just sketchy to me, so I talk to his ex fiance. Well, said fiance reveals some very troubling things to me. This guy had always viewed me as an obstacle, got mad when I didn't want to have sex, and tried to make it seem that I was keeping him from having sex with his "2nd main partner". He would always make the relationship seem a lot closer than it was. My main partner and I talk all of the time, so it came as a surprise to both of us that he considered my main partner as his "2nd main".

I told my bfs, and they all agreed he needed to be talked to and removed from the polycule groupchat. I let him have it when I talked to him, caught him up in lies and contradictions, and then I told him he's never allowed around me again.

Instead of acting like he cared he hurt me, he just asked if this meant everyone was breaking up with him. I told him I don't speak for them and instead of talking to any of them individually like they all wanted, he ran and blocked them. Accusing us of ganging up on him.

I still talk to his ex fiance, they're super cool and we used to play d&d together.

Was I the asshole to bring all of that on at once? Dude got broken up with by who he thought was a life partner and 2 other people in the span of 2 weeks.

What are these acronyms?

[protagonistpolling]

PROTAGONIST POLLING

Why should you vote for these characters?

Why should you vote for the Albatrio? (1)

"Jay, Chip, and Gillion are so cool. They’re pirates in a fantasy world, but they kind of suck at being pirates and they keep SAVING ISLANDS.

Chip is an orphan who found family in the famous Black Rose Pirates, before their ship, the Midnight Rose, got caught in a horrible whirlpool. He ended up separated from everything he knew at only 9 years old. He found a gang, of sorts, led by a boy named Reuben Price. After refusing to kill a traitor and running away with a stolen boat, he tried to live up to the legacy of his caretaker on the Midnight Rose, Arlin James, and become a great pirate so that he could find him again and make him proud.

Jay Ferin is the daughter of Jayson Ferin, a well respected general in the NAVY, and Malenia “May” Ferin, the owner of a bar. Her uncle, Drey Ferin, left to go and join the Black Rose Pirates instead of be in the NAVY. Jay also trained to be a high ranking NAVY official, and her sister, Ava Ferin, was also a NAVY official before she was killed.

Chip came to the town where Jay and her mother lived and worked at their tavern, and told people stories. They ended up working together to save someone, and Chip won a bet against Jay. Since Jay lost, she agreed to join Chip’s pirate crew, and be the second member. Later, sailing the sea, they would find a fish man floating about, and he would join them too.

That brings us to Gillion Tidestrider, the third member of the up and coming pirate crew that would one day be known as the Riptide Pirates.

Gillion happened to be born on a specific day at a specific time while specific things were happening, and so was the Chosen One of the prophecy. He was so special that his parents gave him away to the elders! He endured harsh training, as he was destined to defeat evil, and also flood the world, but that’s not important yet. The elders told him that if he managed to do well, he would be accepted and loved. He never managed to do it, and despite being surrounded by people, he felt like he was alone. Except for when his sister, Edyn, visited, he was under a lot of stress. Eventually, Edyn was forced to stop visiting, but she gave him a pet frogtopus named Pretzel to keep him company. One day, the elders had a meeting with a human. Of course, Gillion had been taught that all humans were evil and that he should hate them, so he attacked the human. However, instead of being rewarded for following the teachings, he was banished from the Undersea. He was found by Chip and Jay, who let him in their pirate crew.

They had many adventures! They blew up a building, Gillion made a deal with a sketchy guy to save a town, they started a band and saved another town, they won a competition, they saved their friend and Drey Ferin from jail, they saw old friends again and Chip defeated an evil guy, and much more! And by much more, I mean the Riptide campaign is 97 episodes long not counting the Origins video and all episodes are over one hour and usually two hours. Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff."

Why should you vote for the Knight? (1)

"little guy (gender non specific)"

[bitterkarmaa]

“What kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?” feels very much like a moon and eclipse interaction lol

Absolutely. This one’ll be shorter, but I just HAD to do it because the concept is so funny.

“What kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?”

-Moon & Eclipse-

“What are you doing at my computer?”

Moon’s voice fills the room, full of disdain and suppressed rage, but Eclipse barely gives him a glance. Instead, he’s staring at the screen as if he’s either seen a ghost, or found a sketchy website with advertisements that no one would ever want to see.

If it’s the latter, Moon would beat his ass into next week.

“Have you ever opened an email in your life?”

Eclipse’s response catches him off guard, so, for a moment, Moon stands in silence. A confused look falls over his face, then, in the next moment, he’s furious.

“You’ve been going through my emails?!” The night-themed jester shouts, but this doesn’t seem to startle Eclipse enough to make his retreat. Instead, he slowly turns to Moon with his hands clasped together, face scrunched up as if he’s unsure whether his next comment will get him killed. Narrowed red eyes pierce into dented orange and black metal.

“Perhaps.”

Eclipse can’t help the sly smile that slips onto his face as he watches Moon switch from furious to absolutely livid.

“I’m going to break you into little bitty pieces.”

Moon’s tone makes some of Eclipse’s confidence waiver. His smile fades into a grimace.

“Please don’t.” He responds curtly, quickly stepping back as Moon lunges forwards, one hand barely managing to grasp Eclipse’s arm. He tugs in an attempt to get the other to release him, but…that look in Moon’s eyes stomps his remaining hope into the dirt and leaves it to die.

“Dude, come on. We can talk about this.” Eclipse chuckles nervously, finally able to wrench his arm out of Moon’s grip. Eclipse staggers back, catching himself before he can topple over and make himself look even worse.

“Why were you looking through my shit?” Moon’s voice is barely above a growl, borderline threat seeping into his words.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Eclipse retorts, quirking a brow as Moon crosses his arms challengingly.

“We won’t know unless we try, hm?” He taps his foot in anticipation. Wow. Like a parent scolding a child, wagging that finger except more subtly- just enough to portray annoyance, nothing more.

“….I sent you an email that contained a file of funny cat memes and I wanted to check if you opened it.”

The silence stretches on after Eclipse’s confession. Neither of them move. All they do is stare wide-eyed at each other.

After what feels like a decade, Moon slowly lets out a vent, his previous anger leaving his body, being replaced by lax annoyance. Eclipse plays with his fingers as he watches the younger piece of kill code calm himself down, all while staring at Eclipse with a blank expression.

It’s just a little unnerving, since…

KC wore that same face, except masked by a smile instead of a frustrated frown.

“Why couldn’t you just, like, I don’t know, message me with the file?” Moon drags his hands down his face, creating an awful scraping noise that quickly seems to agitate Eclipse, since he moves forwards and grabs Moon’s wrists so fast that the night-themed animatronic has to blink a few times to process.

“…I don’t know how.”

Moon can’t help but show his surprise at that admission, barely reacting as Eclipse releases him again and pulls his hands close to his chest, looking nervous and ashamed. He…Eclipse isn’t like this. What’s so bad about not knowing how to do something? Why does he look so…

Scared?

“You’ve called Blood before.” Moon murmurs quizzically, falling into a subdued silence as Eclipse’s rays shrink in, making him look awfully small and pathetic. Was that the point of that function? He never fully understood why someone would want to appear smaller.

“That’s…different.” Eclipse mumbles under his breath.

“No, it’s not. Calling and sending messages uses the same database. The basic functionality is coded into-“ Moon abruptly cuts himself off, realization hitting him like a brick fired from a high-caliber rifle.

Eclipse must know what Moon’s silence means, because, soon enough, he has withered away into a bundle of nervous fidgeting and embarrassment that forces his gaze to the floor.

“You’re…still learning how to work a body of your own, I’m guessing?” Moon asks, and it looks like Eclipse is about to snap out some sort of retort, denial, perhaps, but that momentary vigor quickly passes. He looks as if he wants to say more, to explain the specifics of it all, but all he can muster is a nod.

“I can teach you, if you want.”

Eclipse’s one-eyed stare darts up to Moon, filled with cautious hope.

“Seriously? It’s no big deal, I can figure it out…”

Moon doesn’t know if it’s Eclipse’s tone that makes him feel obligated to help, or if it’s that stupid little twinge of ‘what caused you to act like this’ that forces all hard feelings towards the other animatronic out of his mind- either way, Moon rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t even. Just accept it, Candy Corn.” Moon teases, barking out a laugh at the shift of kicked puppy to wild wolf in Eclipse’s expression.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, Corny.”

“THAT’S EVEN WORSE!”

Moon breaks down into a fit of laughter, only becoming more hysteric as his computer says, in a monotone voice from the corner of the room:

“Lol.”

Eclipse gives the console the most vicious glare he can muster without physically punching the thing.

“If I’m Candy Corn then you’re a psychopath!” Eclipse snaps, and Moon manages to stifle his laughter enough to utter a questioning hun between his deep venting.

“I mean, what kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?” Eclipse smirks as the annoyance comes back onto Moon’s face.

“You counted them?!”

“I don’t know if you knew this or not, but, over the folder labeled ‘unread emails’ there’s this fancy and convenient number that tells you how many there are. You’d know this if you actually opened your emails.”

A wild chase between the two ensued for the next two hours.

[erros429]

i think the appeal of rosebird, at least for me, is the what-if of it all. like yes, the divorcee dynamic is fantastic (and as humorous as freezerbros divorce). but just the aching and the yearning and the missed chances over the years.

meeting at beacon and initially disliking each other because summer is just so fucking positive and kind and because raven is so fucking pessimistic and stubborn. they’re natural opposites and yet summer shows raven more kindness than she’s ever received before, and raven’s shown summer more defiance than she’s ever seen before. and that contrast is what attracts them to each other. the unknowns of how the other lives.

they spend time together, both with the team and just the two of them. maybe their fighting styles complement each other. and maybe when they’re out to get coffee together (raven drinks it black and summer drinks it with a cream and five sugars), their hands brush as raven hands her her drink. their legs press against each other’s when they sit at the table. there’s a lull in their conversation, a comfortable one, where they don’t have much to say but they’re content in each other’s presence. and maybe raven’s never wanted to be a follower before, but under summer’s leadership… maybe she was willing to trust her life in her hands. maybe they’ve almost kissed before. maybe they have kissed before. maybe they still want to.

but even if raven starts to trust her team (and summer) more, she sure as hell doesn’t trust anyone else. ozpin’s being sketchy as hell and her brother is buying into his every word. and maybe raven tries to warn them about ozpin. but they don’t believe her, instead chalking it up to her usual pessimism.

and so raven has yang. she sees her child, delicate as she is, innocent as she is. and she thinks this — this domestic life, this happy life — isn’t who she is. she grew up and had to fight everyday just to survive. there are people that depend on her. so she leaves. she’s shied away from summer so many times that… maybe summer’s moved on. she comes back two years later and sees ruby and figures that yeah, summer has moved on. that’s a good thing. that should be a good thing. why does she ache so much at the sight of it?

but this is all raven’s point of view. summer aches too, but she’s better at hiding it because she loves tai and she loves her kids and she shouldn’t miss someone who’d abandon her own family. she shouldn’t miss her, and yet she she does.

and when she tells raven about her mission against salem, she’s surprised to hear her agree so readily. “i won’t let you face that monster alone,” raven tells her over the scroll once. “i don’t want to see you hurt.”

and that’s a big revelation to summer. and raven’s mortified that an admittance of any sort of feelings is out there now. so when they meet in person, raven attempts cheek. “summer rose telling lies,” she teases, and it isn’t welcome. and her concern for the family that she left isn’t welcome either. and that’s right. raven left and summer moved on and that’s fair and that’s right.

then tragedy strikes. something happens to summer. if raven wasn’t standoffish before, she sure as hell is now. she shouldn’t have gotten so close to someone before, especially not someone as hopeful as summer. because in raven’s experience, that kind of hope only gets you one thing. dead.

now i’m definitely not excusing raven’s actions. she’s a deadbeat mom and teammate and though there’s (more or less) an explanation, it sure as hell isn’t an excuse. she hurt tai and yang badly. maybe she thought they were better off without her, but that wasn’t up to her. she thinks she’s merciful and strong for making a difficult choice, but it wasn’t the right one. but just b/c i dislike her as a person and the decisions she made, i do have to admit there’s a ton of intrigue to her and summer’s characters. this entire post was speculation, but that’s what makes it so fun to dissect.

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 16; free ice cream

✧.* featuring kyle and yn walking to an unknown (and probably fine, totally not murderous) location : ̗̀➛ notes - here's your daily reminder to why i don't write serious things lmao tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

Kyle didn’t tell me where we were going. 

“We’re going to talk to the doctor.” He’d say as if it weren’t the most infuriatingly cryptic thing ever. What kind of superhero noir film does he think we’re in?

Rule number 1 is don’t follow men into unknown dark places. Granted, the men in those situations are built like a Jostar and super scary. Compared to that, Kyle is more of a pomeranian off his leash. I could tell him that Donald Glover leaves Community in the fifth season and he’d be out of commission for long enough to kick his lanky legs and take him down. 

Why are we thinking about the specifics of physically restraining our friend?

You can never be too prepared.

Now you’re being cryptic. We aren't even in a sketchy area. Isn’t that literally craig’s house?

My focus returned to my surroundings as I noticed the houses lining the street. I’d only seen craig’s house once when Butters shared a picture of a bear standing in his driveway, thinking it was a dog, but that was enough to solidify the house to memory. 

Without realizing, my steps slowed as I became lost in my thoughts again. 

I’m in the neighborhood where Craig’s family lives. Clyde told me he lived in the same neighborhood with the guys for most of their life. That means Kyle probably lives in the same neighborhood too. Kyle knows about Butters.

And we’re diving in this hole, WHY?

Shut up, I’m onto something... I think.

Kyle knows about Butters. Butters is Chaos. We’re in Craig’s neighborhood. Craig. Butters. Kyle. Superheroes. Craig. Fucking SUPER CRAIG. 

Holy shit. I forgot about Super Craig.

“KYLE!” I snapped back to reality. Kyle had gotten a half a block ahead of me. When he turned back, his own nervous gaze met mine. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing to the dark street as a reminder that this isn’t the place to shout this late at night. 

I pressed my lips together to hopefully hold back any other impulsive shouts and speed walked to catch up with him. 

“Kyle we’re so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it-” Kyle cut off my rambling.

“What? Is something wrong?” He asked, voice matching my own panic as his nerves bounced off of mine. 

“Of course something is wrong. Craig’s a superhero too! Don’t you see it?” I asked, looking up at Kyle. Panic radiated off both of us, air growing electric as our thoughts bounced off of each other in a silent amplification of anxiety.

Kyle opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He paused, then closed his mouth, swallowing the words. He turned away from me, continuing down the sidewalk as though I didn’t just drop a friendship altering bomb.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to Timmy’s house.” Kyle said over his shoulder, turning to walk up the steps of a house at the end of the block. 

Who the fuck is timmy?

"Are we not going to address this? Or do I only get one theory confirmed every 24 hours?" I questioned, jogging to catch up with Kyle on the doorstep.

He didn't look in my direction. Instead he rung the doorbell and kept his eye trained on the entryway. "All of the above."

“This free ice cream better come with a month of therapy after this bullshit.” I muttered to myself as the door swung open revealing him. The one who is meant to answer all of my questions. The one who had the power to keep Kyle Broflovski silent.

Dr. Timothy.

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia  @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc

[uglyduckling339]

KY'S LIFE IS STRANGE DOUBLE EXPOSURE NONSENSE LIVEBLOG: Chapter 2

(spoilers ahead obvi) (this does NOT make sense without having played the episode or at least watched it) (it may also not make sense with the context. so.)

tutorial episode 1

Okay so lowkey i finished this chapter like a week and a half ago but forgot to make a luh review so😭😭 oopsies

I know it's probably just to easily cut between scenes but Max keeps lowkey dissociating after sum freaky shit happens. First chapter after her and Safi almost died, and then now after she universe-hops (?) #trauma_response

god i fucking HATE this buzzing. i miss rewind, that wasn't loud and annoying

"did the forecast call for massive nose bleeds?" GIGGLING umm blah blah blah the storm was because of max's powers and her powers are shown through nosebleeds joke goes here

wtf are these sketchy ass teachers planning bro. just call off and go visit ur kid?? why is this a big deal💀

"oofa doofa" LMFAOO MAX IS BACK W HER WEIRD ASS SLANG

uhm i think my game glitched or sum bc Safi and Safi's mom just left the turtles but I can hear them gossiping about drug usage? huh

whole-heartedly, this game is FAR too expensive for all these glitches

Maxine "Mary Poppins" Caulfield is back with her stupid ass bag logic

love her she just shoved a whole step ladder in there like it was nun

Vinh... honey shes like. very dead :(

UGHH life tip guys help the guy with the bathroom key BEFORE you talk to Amanda.

jesus my drafts are so hard to comprehend.. wtf does half this shit mean bro😭

Diamond's beef with Vinh is so interesting. It's lowkey like a more intense Rachel v. Victoria from LiS: BTS

OH MY GOD

CAT

i can't take the cat yet :( its in the bushes at the school hissing at me

Vinh needs Max so bad lowkey

I should've interrupted Lucas last chapter bc I don't see the issue with him? he seems like he's incredibly pretentious but not even like HALF as bad as most of Arcadia Bay and he's kinda nice when he's not yapping

i'm so serious what the hell was i saying in these drafts bro.

Max watering Gwen's plant like it's Lisa :( RIP

I was SO prepared for Gwen to walk in ngl

Max :( no :( i like lucas :( I wanna hear abt the book expo :(

i'm so cooked bro i love literally every character in this game so much. none of them killed her theres no way

omfg glitch again ! Lucas's briefcase is open WHILE MAX IS ACTIVELY TALKING ABT IT BEING LOCKED SHUT. GIRL REACH IN I CAN SEE THE FILES.

"dare i channel my... inner chloe" OH MY GOD

I LIKE VINH SO MUCH. I HIGHKEY MIGHT ROMANCE THEM TOGETHER.

No clue what "TRAIN TRACKS????? REFERENCE WHILE FLIRTING WITH A MAN?? MAXINE??" means but i like the vibes so i'm adding it here

WHAT DOES THIS DRAFT MEAN LMFAO

i should just post some of these so yall can see the weird ahh shit i got in my drafts lmfao

bye i forgot which universe i was in and drank w/ Vinh instead of pursuing the objective

OH SHIT. don't forget which universe ur in😭 the dialogue almost messed me up fr

also there is SO MUCH repeating dialogue.

max has the milennial curse of forgetting that she can use google istg

Reggie !!! my fav !!!

Authority Figure Max is so fine oml i need her

also !! chloe and victoria's trauma posting is actually so important to me and idc how much yall hate it

one of these drafts just says the sentence "like the fanfic!!"... what was i yappin abt bro

REPEATING DIALOGUE SHUT UPPPP

GWEN I WAS EXPLORING. i was coming to you AFTER !!

I can make this SO EMO if yall let me (max smoking a joint)

wait okay so i'm slow but is Gwen trans?

GOD I HATE THIS FUCKING CHOICE. IT FEELS LIKE THAT FUCKING "Go To The Cops or Find Evidence" CHOICE FROM LIS 1

The true essense of LiS is saying "fuck it, it's just a video game" and screwing every character over bc of it

highkey I still hate Loretta but she's kinda nice in this part.

WAIT PAUSE LORETTA HOW THE F U C K DID YOU GET UP HERE GIRL

GIRL I UNIVERSE-HOPPED. WTF DID U DO

and if i say loretta murdered her what would yall do. (/joke, /theory)

oh okay mr. detective ! thats racism !

so i spent 5 drafts yapping about needing to avoid the tree so it doesn't make a sound just to realize that in Dead World! the tree isn't decorated 😭

giggling and another 4 drafts complaining bc my game crashed (luckily it saved first)

OKAY SO I FUCKING HATE THIS ACTUALLY

Listen I was bad at the David Madsen swim scene in LiS ep 3, and that had rewind. I'm cooked

PAUSE was rhat a glitch or did she just get caught and rewind time?????

max's overusing her powers again.. girl did we not learn from the NIGHTMARE in LiS

that feeling when you alter the universes and combine them together (absolutely nothing bad will happen from this for sure)

i have a whole paragraph yapping about my love for Vinh in my drafts lmfao

ALSO theorecially could you romance Vinh in one world and Amanda in another....

CAT

CAT

CAT

AH BRING THE BABY IN THE HOUSE MAX

GRAB IT

OH MY GOD CUSTOMIZATION AHHH

BLACK KITTY !!! JUST LIKE MY IRL CAT !!!

IRIS 🖤🖤🖤

AHH THIS WAS SO WORTH THE $85.00

CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT

anyways i wonder why Living World! Max hasn't been home in days

AHHHHH KITTY :) FEED THE BABY MAXINE.

also how is that guitar here. isn't it like incredibly destroyed from the storm

"Grief flings open all the doors we thought we'd shut forever" okayyyy lucas i see u

OH ?? MULTI-UNIVERSE MURDER??

great job max. glad we stayed calm😭😭

i've been repeating this line for over a week now ngl

"it-it's photoshop !😰😰 a deepfake🧐 idunno!!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️"

i miss the ads at the end of the episodes soo badly its not even funny

And that was it! alot more glitching in episode 2, but overall it was still hella fun (and the CAT. OH MY GOD !!)

I won't be able to play the new chapters until Wednesday at LEAST bc i'm hella busy but I wanted to get this out for my adoring fans (2 mutuals who like the posts i make)

[soongyeopsal]

Nth Time’s a Charm

Summary: How many trips to the store does it take to decorate a tree? ▸ Pairing: Jimin x F!reader ▸ Rating / Genre / AU: PG-13 / fluff, humor ▸ Warnings: N/A ▸ Word Count: 1.3k ▸ A/N: This gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta​ and is for fellow Wings era enthusiast @jiminzfilter. Surprise~~!! I hope you enjoy, lovely! Thank you to Cherry for beta’ing and banner-ing! 

↔↔↔↔↔↔↔↔↔↔

In this world, there is nothing that brings you more displeasure than being outside in the cold. Yet here you are, trudging to the seasonal decor shop in 5 layers of clothing so heavy that it feels like you’re dragging yourself along in a suit of armor. Your mind is begging you to end this mission, but your heart has other ideas. It’s the day before Christmas Eve – you have to try just one more time.

You have to stop when you finally do arrive at your destination to catch your breath. Why were you breathing so hard? Get it together and don’t embarrass yourself this time! You close your eyes, inhale shakily, and release. As your breath steams away from you, you will your nerves to do the same. A gust of heated air warms your face as you step through the automated sliding doors of the shop. When the entry bell dings, a store greeter hands you a shopping basket on queue and gives you their best customer service smile. “Oh! Nice to see you again. Welcome back!” It takes everything in you to ignore the mortification spreading across your cheeks and provide a salutation of your own before scurrying down the aisles to the ornament section, a path you know all too well. This is the 4th time you’ve visited the shop this week and somewhere around the 20th time in the last month and a half since the storefront opened for the season. The same thing happens every time: you peruse the ornaments for a conspicuously long time, have an awkward chat with the associate who always comes by to help, then you buy only 1 bauble and leave. Needless to say, your flimsy excuse of “perfecting your Christmas tree” has been seen through by everyone on staff. 

By now they probably have a nickname for you. Christmas Tree Courtney? Ornament Olive? Sketchy Sarah? Please, not Sketchy Sarah. “Y/N! How’s the tree coming along?” And there it is. That angelic voice you’ve fallen in love with yanks you out of your panicked imaginings so you can panic in real life instead. 

At the end of the aisle is the most stunning man you’ve ever seen with a cherubic face and gorgeous, cat-like eyes. His ash gray hair catches the twinkling of the fairy lights that line the shelves, giving him an almost ethereal glow. You’ve come to know this remarkable man in this unremarkable store as Jimin. What started as a harmless crush on him has turned into a (failing) mission to ask him out. For all of the times you’ve plucked up the courage to go see him, however, that grit flies out the window once he’s standing in front of you. 

You remind yourself to pick your jaw up from the floor as he approaches. “H-Hey! It’s looking good, almost done.” Jimin reaches your side and then turns to regard the wall of ornaments that you’re pretending to be interested in. “I should hope so,” he finally says after a pause. “This is our last day after all.”

Pause. “Last day?” Hopefully, that didn’t come out as stressed as you’re feeling right now. “Well, yeah.” Jimin absently grabs a glittery star from the wall to watch it twinkle in his hand. “We’re closed tomorrow and on Christmas day. The store’s done for the season.”

Internally, your world has come to a screeching halt. Surely, things can’t end so uneventfully? You’ve journeyed here to see Jimin for weeks on end and for what? To chicken out every time and watch as the love of your life (you’re positive that he is) slips through your fingers? Your hopeful Christmas story is starting to look much more like a tale of the one that got away. Unsure of what to say, you grab a bulb of your own, a shiny red one, and turn it in your hands. Jimin’s eyes catch yours in its reflection. He’s studying you as if he knows you’re hiding something from him. Instead, he grants you mercy by continuing the conversation himself. “Are you sure that’s the one? This ornament, I mean.” He gestures to the one in your hand. “I thought you said this year’s theme was tan and green?”

Queue the worst fake laugh you’ve ever laughed. “No, you’re right. I don’t know where my head is today!” This is not a lie. “Let me just–” 

You reach to hang the ornament back on its display, but Jimin gently intercepts your hand, slender fingers stealing the loop from yours. His smile is so beautiful that it hurts. “I’ve got it,” he says. “Here, I think I’ve got the perfect one for you.” Jimin crowds you between himself and the ornament wall, reaching above you to grab one above your head. Your eyes catch a sliver of the plush of his stomach that’s exposed when his shirt rides up and though you’ll never admit it, your mind is instantly flooded with thoughts of sin. It’s so hot in here all of a sudden.

“Here!” Jimin once again pulls you back into the present, this time by gently bringing your hands together to form a cup. You accept your new position obediently as he places an oversized, almost-bronze bauble in your hands. “I think this could be the missing piece,” he grins proudly. Everything about Jimin is so soft, so elegant, so overwhelming. No wonder you can only ever leave here with one item every time – how are you supposed to follow that up? It really will be a pretty addition to your Christmas tree even though it’s been “complete” for a while now. It’s just hard to focus on that when you’re having skin-to-skin contact with the most dazzling person you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

Finally, you manage to show gratitude with words. “Actually, I think you’re right. Perfect recommendation as always, Jimin!” This is all too much. You need to get out of here before you say something stupid. There’ll be time to wallow in despair about your own cowardice later. “Thank you so, so much. And Merry Christmas!” You can’t look him in the eyes as you say it, opting to glue your gaze to the bauble in your hands as you turn to leave. “W-Wait! One more thing!”

Body reacting before mind, you spin on your heel to face Jimin one last time. He produces a slip of paper from his apron pocket and beckons you back over to him so he can place it in your coat pocket. When your eyebrow quirks up in confusion, he explains, “Open it after you leave.”

“Wha–”

“Hi, how can I help you?” Just as abruptly things began, they end with Jimin breezing past you to help another customer that’s wandered into the aisle. He’s absorbed in his Ornament Monitor duties – acting as if your interaction hadn’t happened. It dawns on you that this is the last time you’ll see him. The moment for action has passed, you have to go home and never see this exquisite specimen of a man again. Your clothes suddenly feel like bricks as you make your way to the register up front to pay. The same clerk that greeted you at the door squeals “finally!” when you check out, but you barely hear it. All that’s on your mind is missed opportunities with Jimin. You thank the clerk for their help robotically and head out the door to begin your walk of solitude back home. The chill of reality hits your skin and you immediately shove your hands into your pockets. The paper Jimin left with you crinkles under your fingertips and urges you to inspect it now instead of in the warmth of your Jimin-less home. Ignoring the frost biting at your hands, you unfurl the stationary as you stand on the sidewalk. In black pen is a phone number and beneath it, dainty handwriting: “Call me? :)” 

Looks like you’ve got your Christmas miracle after all.