#Ellie has a Speed Core

[sneekysnake]

I can imagine the lanterns just going about their rounds when the notice how the planets are acting extraordinarily weird and how everything is out of wack and when they inform one of the Earth lanterns about this they find out that they themselves are investigating because the speedsters started running for no clear reason and just keep saying that if they stop something horrible will happen but they don’t know what and just everyone panicking because they don’t know what’s happening.

So who are we having figure out what happened and how? (I imagine it’s gonna be a magic inclined person or a ghost that was tasked to inform the mortals so they may help rescue the embodiment of space) Also when the person finds out how are they gonna tell the JL and the Oa about what’s happening and how the GIW just fucked the whole universe

DP x DC prompt #153

Every ancient's core is directly tied to what they are the ancient of. For Clockwork, his core is present throughout all of time. For Undergrowth, his core is connected to every plant on Earth. For Nocturn, his ckrr is made up of the combined dreams of the people of Earth.

Danny though, as the Ancient of Space, Danny's core is made up of the entire universe. He has a hard time explaining this to the Justice League.

[beanlot]

ellie, who unexpectedly orgasms as she’s strapping you.

you thought something was off by how sloppy she was handling your hips, her fingers twitching impulsively and the thrusts of the silicone in your cunt is faltering. maybe her stamina is no longer, or maybe she’s just not into you.

but you hear her exhale shakily, her choked up breaths. people usually tried missionary first, but not ellie - she wanted to see you ride it reverse cowgirl, watch your ass from behind in doggy, and she wanted to hear you cry out speed-bump style.

but she’s on top of you now, your lower back angled comfortably on a sweaty pillow, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“fuck.. fuck.. fuck—“ she whimpers silently to herself, and your glossed eyes are fluttering open. you’ll call out her name with difficulty, ellie?

that intangible pleasure in your cunt she used to hit with ease is starting to subside, but it doesn’t matter, because your core is tightening when you see her fucked-out expression. her lids shut, eyebrows arched in ecstasy and my god, williams.. it looks like you’re the one getting fucked.

the constant rocking has been stimulating her poor, swollen clit. and suddenly provoking her orgasm, her hips are twitching like crazy, whimpering exhales sloppily seeping from her lips.

“are you fucking coming?” you gasp jaggedly, feeling the silicone burrow deeply into your hole in these random and unanticipated twitches.

you’ll cup her face, and her skin is piping hot, melting into your sweaty palms. her eyes are closed, and even when they are fluttering, you can only see the pleasured whites of her eyes.

“mm—fuck-‘m sorry, i’m sorry baby-ah—..” she whimpers, too embarrassed to open her eyes fully for you to see her shameful irises, dilated pupils that are so selfish.

she’s using her remaining momentum to sporadically thrust into your soaked slit, encouraging those last ruffles of her rupturing orgasm, humming low and guttural as she does so. “felt so good—fuck, pussy feels so good, baby—“ she exhales breathlessly, her parted lips against your chest.

you can feel the hot air on your skin, condensation melting into the pores.

she tries to continue, for your sake, for your enjoyment. but it’s too much, oversensitivity that has her trembling like a loser; her arms are quivering as they try to hold her up. “i can’t-can’t go anymore—“ she whines, her measly thrusts forcing her clit into overdrive.

just the smallest tap has her overwhelmed. but you’re not satisfied, she knows this.

“keep going.” you demand, determined eyes maintaining a solid gaze at her own, your palms still framing her jaw. “i need to come too.”

and when she pauses, eyes glassy with the overbrimming bliss, you dip her face lower. her ear inches away from your lips, and you whisper with a callous hue. “you talked so much fucking game, so fuck me until i come. is that so much to ask?”

“i can’t-i can’t, it’s too—“ she tries to defend herself, tries to ignore the constant contracting of her hole; the rigorous pulsing of her tormented bud. but you’re quick to deflate it.

“it’s always about you, huh, ellie?” you murmur, slowly rutting your hips against the silicone. she can hear the challenge in your voice, the way you diminish her, the humiliating wetness of her slick.

and she loves it.

“stop being so selfish, and fuck me.” you order, your arms sprawling out to your sides - because you want her to put the work in, make the same mess of you as she did herself.

and she will. she’ll whine, she’ll beg, she’ll plead. can’t go anymore, i can’t, please baby as she fucks into you like you deserve. the veins in her hands prominent as she tries to keep herself steady, the definition in her abdomen from the clenching, and the pitiful way she’s crying out. whimpering for breath, a pleasured tear landing on your collarbone.

but she fucks you good, and you’re grateful for it.

[emacrow]

Flash had been noticing he was being stalked by two kids

Especially if the kids is uno reverse Bruce Wayne bait.

These two kids literally stopped him from running back through the time 13th times in a roll by doing something distracting that completely took his attention alongside this them saving the day before Flash went back to fix it.

Scary accurate, too, after the last time he was tackled and manhandled by a giant glowing green dog when the kids play hot potato and threw a purple dog toy at him saying fetch cujo.

This little brats has some type of vendetta over him that they keeps stopping him from time running.

The 'We will break your kneecaps' on the watchtower in glowing green marker is new to him.. in the middle of a meeting with the Justice league.

You know, for the fastest man in the world, he didn't expect to get stalked and unabled to catch the stalkers even at last speed 13 times in a roll.

Especially with a group of heroes and Batman staring down at Flash for him to explain what had happened.

That two little kids were stalking the fastest man in the world to stop him from running sounds ridiculous, but it was true that even his team investigating can't seem to find anything or nothing on the database about this two children.

As if they didn't exist in the first place...

....

....

....

....

All danny wanted to do was go home after a lesson about being the Infinite Prince and its duty from Clockwork, but yet he couldn't seem to find the home portal, not even Vlad’s was opened which was very odd.

He did catch Ellie zooming around the ghost realm, who was panicking as well about the missing portals, but thankfully, Johnny and Kitty helped them find a natural portal to their home dimension.. Danny is going to have a stern talking with them about that later, but right now, he wanted to go home now.

Only.. there was no home to go to because Amity Park had disappeared.

If it weren't for Clockwork's sticky notes all over a stump trunk that used to be Amity Park's welcome sign that saved Danny from having a total meltdown and psychic break in his core with how small he and ellie became slipping out of the natural portal.

Apparently, some Jackass Time Speeder changed the timeline too many times in which Amity Park, the world greatest ghost town, ceased to existence.

Thankfully, Clockwork left them a little gift that were time watches to help located the dirty bastard that basically ruined Danny's timeline in exchange of punishment for all the timelines clockwork had to fix due to this man.

Danny and Ellie would gladly accept beating up this wannabe timeline ruining bastard, and they'll be creative at it, too.

Part 2 -> here

[themothwhisperer]

Embrace the changes is my advice. A game and a tv show simply aren’t the same. They are not made the same and they do not offer the same advantages.

I feel kinda sad for the people out there that played and loved the game, but hate on the narrative changes they made for the show. Change was inevitable. Otherwise, why doing it? Making a carbon copy of something isn’t that valuable in my opinion.

That’s one of the main reasons why season 2 can arguably turn out to be better than season 1. Because what will come next is unexpected. It comes with a sense of surprise and mystery.

And that’s especially true when it comes to Ellie and Dina.

With episode 4, the reaction seems to be quite divided and it’s honestly super fair, but it’s fundamental to understand how this relationship did a 180 for the televised version. The game was stability, consistency and maturity. The show is all about playfulness, confusion and tension.

The most common comment I see is about the sex scene. I’m sorry, but to have them getting intimate was necessary, especially for the fans of the game. Taking it out would’ve been wrong in many ways. And when you think about it, this was the only good timing for it. The weed scene simply couldn’t happen in the show because the pace of their relationship is drastically different here.

At this point in time in the game, they are official and comfortable. They are getting into this journey as a couple and it’s crystal clear. And because of this closeness they already have with each other, it was hinted that Ellie was immune. She reveals that information very early on. Even if Dina didn’t believe her, there is a little unconscious connection that clicked in her brain. It won’t be as shocking when she will be confronted to it.

In the show, however, they are tiptoeing around each other. Ellie has feelings for Dina and Dina knows about it, but she’s scared to dive in. She feels the same way, but her sexuality is still a bit of a challenge. She’s been told by her mother this wasn’t right. It’s a mess, basically. And if we compare the timelines, it becomes very obvious that the game and the show are not evolving at the same speed when it comes to this.

So here’s the thing tying back to the immunity question: When Ellie takes a bite to save Dina’s life (which is, by the way, such an exciting and romantic change), Dina’s world is crumbling down. The possibility of them being together dies instantly. She feels guilty because she didn’t speak up earlier. Now it’s ruined. She’s desperate and terrified and heartbroken. I’ve read many things about the lack of communication into this scene, but dialogue is not always key to boost the narrative. Actually, it pretty often does the opposite. Dina doesn’t ask questions because she cannot deal with what might be said, by herself and Ellie alike. It will make it so much worse when she actually has to pull the trigger. She can’t stand the idea of having Ellie voicing she’s in love with her. She can’t allow herself to let it all out either, probably thinking it would be unfair to Ellie. So she stays silent. She’s just crying and waiting for the worst to come. And the biggest difference with the game is how there is no prior connection in Dina’s mind to have a glimpse of hope. She absolutely cannot believe in the immunity claim. There is no way. That’s why she’s not asking about it or trying to hear Ellie out. Once again, it would only make it worse.

Release comes, however, in all the ways possible. Ellie suddenly wakes up, water dripping down on her and a few hours actually went by. She’s fine. And Dina staying silent is motivated by the fact that she’s in absolute shock. To her, there was only one way out of this. She was most likely already grieving Ellie. But now it’s different. Ellie is actually okay, the bite didn’t evolve and she’s evidently feeling well. Once again, she’s speechless, shaken to the core. What can we expect? She just walks very slowly towards her, taking it all in. The anxiety, the fear, it’s all washed away. What’s left is her overwhelming feelings for her. There is nothing that can get in her way now. She’s learned her lesson. And the only words she can actually verbalize is the fact that she’s pregnant. It’s the only thing she’s hiding from Ellie. And before surrendering to her emotions, she just says it.

Here again, I’ve seen things about the pregnancy announcement and my question is: How else would you want it? A pregnancy announcement is a pregnancy announcement. In the game, it actually broke my heart. How Dina is invalidated by Ellie like this. Ellie who’s completely blinded by her rage. I’m not saying a softer Ellie is necessarily better for the storyline, but I did enjoy that pure moment of innocence in the show. She’s taken aback, but she’s not judging. They’re 19 after all. They don’t know what it means and how they will deal with it, but they want to figure it out together.

So yeah, the sex scene makes so much sense. Dina is ready for them to be together, she perceives only love in Ellie’s reaction and she wants that closeness with her. She won’t waste another second. Having this scene happen later on would’ve been so odd. Ellie will soon torture an already dying Nora, she will be next level traumatized. Dina will most likely get sicker from her pregnancy. This was the perfect moment, considering the rhythm of this version.

Finally, if we want more Dina, that was the only way to go about it. They need to be extra close for it to make sense. Many people were disappointed (myself included) by the fact that Dina is sort of forgotten after Seattle Day One in the game. They fixed it. Let’s appreciate it.

(Can we also acknowledge the breathtaking performance Bella Ramsey and Isabela Merced delivered?)

[puppetmaster13u]

SO. Thinkin of This AU/Thread of ideas. Y'know, Halfa Jason adopting the entire liminal class. That one.

But what if, Dragon. Because I am in fact weak to dragon AUs. And I could draw them, but instead have scrys beneath the keep reading bit.

So, Ghosts are Dragons sort of AU. Which means that the people in Crime Alley debate on whether local dad Peter (Who is totally with Red Hood they're sure) & the kids are dragon-based metas, or in fact straight up dragons disguised as humans.

Jason isn't exactly oblivious about this per se, but like, dude also has 13 kids ranging from 4 to 6 who are also both very powerful and also traumatized from the whole GIW experiments going on. So. He's understandable more than a bit Distracted.

Jason [Star Core] & Jazz [Ocean Core] & Jordan [Sun Core]

Kyle [Shadow Core] & Kwan [Wind Core] & Dash [Speed Core]

Wes [Light Core] & Paulina [Fire Core] & Star [Electric Core]

Sam [Life Core] & Tucker [Storm Core] & Valerie [Metal Core]

Ellie [Moon Core] & Danny [Space Core] [& Bonus Fright Knight just Because]

Also have link to the designs of the fam for the base Au

Psspspsps @mkarchin713 @radiance1 @hdgnj @theobliviousshipper perhaps u may enjoy or have ideas

[forthelorewick]

Blessed with Beauty and Rage

ch 4 - “Riddled with ghosts, to lie. Deadlocked with them, taking roots as cradles rock”

“All the Dead Dears” by Sylvia Plath

Series Summary:

The very core of who you are is hypocritical. Every day is a reminder of what you've lost, of who you've allowed yourself to become. Your walls are built around your heart like the fortress of Jackson, until… a certain man tries to pry his way through. How long can you withstand such intrusion? Will your heart ever open, will your soul ever heal, the way you have helped so many others do? Will you ever learn that you're worth saving too?

joel miller x f!reader

Story Warnings: 18+!!! MDI! (not yet, but we’ll get there)

outbreak/jackson au, outbreak happened in 2003, canon-typical graphic blood/ violence descriptions, anxiety, PSTD, grief, guilt, major character death(s)- (not Joel or reader), reader has nicknames (OC!reader), no use of y/n, explicit language, pining/longing/yearning, ANGST; so soft yet so tortured; emotionally unavailable reader, emotionally unavailable Joel; self-depreciating and self-sabotaging behavior, mentions of sh; shrink!reader Jackson!joel; video game Joel and Ellie; reader is in her early 40s - Joel is late 50s; implications that reader is bisexual; eventual smut, slow burn.

< prev chap | masterlist | next chap >

Chapter content: mentions of pregnancy, grief, referencing loss of a child, angst, Ellie makes a friend.

WC: 2.8k

I will switch some perspectives to Joel since we don’t have a lot of encounters yet, just to see what’s all going on in his mind.

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Next day

You nearly forget about the family dinner Maria had requested you to attend. More like commanded you to attend.

As you hurriedly walk home from the kennels that evening and hastily enter your house, you shake off your muddy boots and peel off your kennel clothes, hopping into the shower quickly and then changing into not muddy clothing.

You let Apollo into the backyard to do his business before you head back out. While he’s outside, you grab the pre-made meal for him out of the fridge and place it on the towel that holds his water dish.

He hobbles back inside as you open the door to let him in, you lean down to scratch his head before he beelines as fast as he can, which is about a fourth of his true speed- for his food dish, devouring the meal as if he didn’t get three square meals a day and treats in-between. The dog was spoiled rotten, even when he wasn’t staying with you.

With the dog taken care of, you pull on your nicer boots. The thick socks you chose fit your feet snuggly within them.

Your eyes are heavy, your lack of sleep last night proved to be most tumultuous as your day wore on. You had been hoping to take a nap, but before you knew it, it was… You glance at the clock on your wall which reads 6:45.

With an eight minute walk ahead of you, you rush out the door, grabbing your coat, hat, and scarf. Not that it really mattered if you were a minute or two late, but you were nothing if not punctual. The attention of showing up late is not something you wanted.

As soon as you step out the door, the bitter cold whipped into your eyes and made them tear up a bit. You sniffle and look into the sky, no snow at the moment, but the grey clouds overhead look like your walk home may be in fresh, powder snow. You smiled to yourself beneath your scarf you had wrapped tightly around you.

You hear familiar voices behind you as you walk towards Maria and Tommy’s house. They weren’t addressing you so you continued walking, a chill running up your spine as the footsteps quicken to catch up with you and a familiar voice calls your name.

You turn to greet Ellie with a soft smile, your eyebrows raise as Joel avoids eye contact. Odd.

You walk silently to Maria’s as Ellie excitedly tells you how she got Joel’s approval to join you in the stables as you finish shoeing the horses.

You had seen her this morning, the amount of energy this girl has is reminiscent of you around her age. Always needing to be moving and doing something. It was a struggle for her to sit for a few hours as she took the assessment to determine her schooling level.

It was far less formal than what schooling used to be. A single test is hardly enough to gauge a child’s true understanding or intelligence. But it was better than nothing, and it did show certain areas of which the child excelled.

Jackson’s schooling was intended to encourage curiosity and on the high school level, guide students towards the areas in which they excel and would pursue within the community. There was something for everyone.

Without the expectations of a certain career making more money than another, the people of Jackson were able to indulge in their hobbies, carpentry, baking, cooking, farming… sewing, painting, music, crochet, mixology… all of which were useful and served a purpose.

The way Jackson had been formed and with its leadership roles established to ensure its continued growth and stability… it allowed peace of mind and the ability for people to focus on their own roles within the community. You had come to a general consensus with those you’ve spoken to, that it greatly and positively affected the mental wellbeing of many folks within Jackson. There was no fight for power, no quarrel for money, no ration cards which you heard the QZs had used. Contribute, survive, and look out for one another. This is the way of Jackson.

You had to agree. Being useful and productive is what gets you out of bed every morning.

Ellie's test results proved exactly what you had suspected. She is a pretty smart kid regardless of formal education or not. Interested in history, not so interested in math. Likes nature, animals, plants… not science. Not a STEM girl, you couldn’t blame her.

Later down the road you suspected she’d be interested in patrols or working in the kennels and stables. Being active and working with her hands. Maybe even the greenhouse. You note to yourself to introduce her to Kris once you get a chance. You weren’t sure who Ellie had been introduced to in Jackson yet.

Ellie stops your train of thought as she asks you when you’ll be back to finish re-shoeing the horses.

“Likely tomorrow, I alternate days of stables and kennels if I have psychiatry work that day too.”

“Psychiatry sounds super fancy,” Ellie remarks as the three of you round the corner towards Maria’s house.

“Used to feel much fancier,” this earns you a grunt of amusement from Joel. “Used to have a big office in a tall building, and a secretary to handle my appointments and take my calls…making six figures,” you hadn’t, really. You had never fully become a psychiatrist.

“No way!”

“Well, I would’ve if life had kept going as it had been, I was thiiiiis close,” you held up your gloved hand and held it so your thumb and pointer finger were nearly touching.

She groans in disapproval to your overstatement. “You don't have a secretary now to handle your appointments?”

“No, no need. Just a sign up sheet,” you grin at that simplicity. “No need for insurance or payments, honestly it makes my job easier too.”

“Insurance? I mean I know what it means, but what was that all about?”

You take a deep breath then sigh, and Joel chuckles quietly beside her. “C’mon kiddo, don’t exhaust all your questions before dinner.”

You nod at him graciously. The world before was a little fucked up too, you didn’t know how to answer all of her questions, but hell- you wanted to try. Reminds you of M.C. At any age really. You learned a lot through her curiosity, things you didn’t think of until she asked about it, not critically at least.

Speaking of… the door to the house you three were approaching swings open as M.C. excitedly greets you. Maria peeks her head around her to see you, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy. You hadn’t seen her for a few weeks, at least not up close. You’ve both been busy with newcomers and it’s just how it goes.

You and the others begin to take off your layers, the home warm with the fireplace lit.

“Hi, love, I’ve missed you” Ellie looks taken aback at the nickname you have for Maria.

She pushes past M.C. to smother you in a hug. You always loved Maria’s hugs. No one else was ever really allowed to get too close, Maria was always the exception.

You feel a soft sniffle against your shoulder but she quickly regains her composure. What the hell is going on?

You push her back gently by the shoulders to look into her eyes, but you see nothing but joy… and a little fear.

Oh. Oh… you nod in understanding, swallowing a lump that forms in your throat.

“Come, let’s eat dinner!” Tommy pokes his head around the corner from in the kitchen, a grin plastered on his face.

The smell of a freshly made meal always makes your mouth water. Especially Maria’s homemade chicken pot pie, you could die for. It was really chicken pot pie ingredients as a soup itself, then dumped into a bread bowl… but it was a delicacy to you from the first time she made it.

“Smells so fucking good!” Ellie nudges you with her elbow and you chuckle.

“It’s her specialty. Tastes even better.” You nudge her back playfully and see her eyes light up at the gesture.

And Joel waits patiently by the door, unsure of what to do with himself as you usher into the kitchen.

“Oh god, I can’t keep it in any longer,” Maria leans against one of the dining room chairs and looks between you and her other guests, M.C., Ellie, and Joel.

You nod your head in support as she practically bubbles with excitement.

Tommy takes his place behind her and gently places his hands on each of her arms.

“Wow, no idea what this could possibly be…” mumbles M.C. next to you. Ellie stifles a laugh and you can see her bite the inside of her cheek to suppress it.

Maria looks at Tommy and nods her head for him to be the one to share the news.

“Maria and I are having a baby,” he inhales deeply and holds his breath as he waits for any responses from his guests.

“Oh my god, I’m going to finally be an aunt!” M.C. crowds Maria and Tommy, taking the pressure off of you to respond.

Even though you knew it as soon as you had seen her eyes, you felt frozen in place. You weren’t exactly sure what it was. You had seen babies born in Jackson, you had met them as they began to grow… but you knew Maria, you knew what losing a child did to her before and what it did to you… it had never been that close before in this new world. It had never been so directly affecting you until now.

Until it’s your family, your best friend… you blink rapidly as you fight to regain your own composure. You need to be there for her, to be that strength and support, you know she’s just as scared as you… maybe even more. You swallow harshly and meet her eyes.

Maria was studying your reaction and her eyes softened as you met her gaze.

You approach her and wrap her into a tight embrace, kissing her temple lightly as you feel her grip tighten on your shirt. “I’m so happy for you,” you whisper in her ear, and you feel her sniffle against you again.

You see Ellie nudge Joel’s arm, “Joel, say congratulations,” she urges him forward.

He steps forward and offers a hand to his brother. “Congratulations.” Tommy can’t help himself and drags his brother into a hug. Joel groans before complying, allowing his brother to crowd him for a brief moment before stepping back again.

M.C. took over once more and asked a slew of questions. When did they find out? When will they know the gender? What names do they have already? How far along are they? Were they trying? Gross, as much as you and Maria had talked of such things, you really didn’t want to know the details since Tommy was also like your brother… yet you were grateful for the reprieve which allowed you to take a moment away from the conversation to breathe.

You all sit down and eat, taking a healthy portion of this delicacy, the smell helping to ground yourself. You watch those around you as they converse, M.C. and Ellie have found that they compliment each other well with their banter.

It’s like an instant connection, one you are ashamed that you hadn’t predicted beforehand, but it makes sense.

Ellie is more of an aggressive and cynically curious person. M.C. has mastered the art of introducing new perspectives on any matter. You couldn’t count how many times the conversation had changed over the course of the meal. Their difference in age not mattering a single iota as they discussed, with Tommy excitedly chiming in as they include him and Maria.

The air around them feels light, warmth and excitement buzzed around them as M.C. and Ellie were excited about the roles they would play as aunt and cousin to the new life growing inside of Maria.

You can’t help but wonder if you'll ever break free from the heavy, oppressive cloud that seems to hang over you. It presses down on your shoulders like a suffocating weight—heavy, relentless, and never comforting.

“I’m going to step outside for a moment,” you say quietly, nodding to Maria and Tommy. You had finished your meal and stood up from the table. You don’t realize that Joel watches as you step out.

The snow you had expected begins to fall slowly onto the town. You take a stuttered breath inwards as the cold air wraps around you once again. This time without your large coat, scarf and gloves.

You step off of the porch and look into the sky, tiny flakes land on your face like a gentle, but freezing kiss. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, you hadn’t realized how fast your heart had been beating.

You can’t explain why you had this reaction, you weren’t reading into that. There was no true impending doom when it came to raising a kid in Jackson. True, there was impending doom in this life at every turn, but this was the first place that hope and security truly took root again. You weren’t worried for Maria and Tommy and their new life they had made together. If anyone could do it, it was them.

But memories of Rosie were flooding your mind, her first breath, her first smile, her first laugh, her first word, her first step… what wouldn't you have done to witness all of her firsts, life was full of firsts…. you’d never have run out. And seconds and thirds.. you wanted to see it all. Be a part of anything and everything you could. Seeing the world through her eyes had taught you so much, you wonder what you had missed since she’d been gone.

You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until you hear the crunch of frozen leaves approaching you. Fuck.

You hastily wipe away remnants of tears, pretending as if you were just wiping off the snowflakes. But it didn’t matter as Joel stormed past you, fists clenched with no coat on.

“What the hell happened?” You ask as Tommy seemingly was going to run after him.

He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, his face pale, “I mentioned Sarah… I just- I miss her too.” He shakes his head, and re-enters his house, deciding not to chase after his brother. You remain where you are, watching the figure of Joel disappear around the corner and back towards his own house.

You hear the door open again and a soft voice from Maria asking if everything was alright.

You nod and smile, “of course, you know I just like the beginning of a snowfall,” and she did know. “Let’s go celebrate,” you join her on the porch and wrap her in another hug, then open the door for her as you enter the house again.

After all, new life was meant to be celebrated.

You stayed a few more hours, the air of family was always comforting especially after everyone knew what it felt like to lose that, and how special it is to have found it once again.

You just wished Rosie and Sarah were here to be a part of this. No one had brought her up or you were sure you’d rush home to be alone just as Joel had.

Seems he deals with the loss much like you do, harboring anger and guilt as a punishment for living while that had been stolen from them. You understood it in a way you wish he didn’t. You wished he could forgive himself the way you hadn’t been able to forgive yourself.

It scared you a bit how often he came to mind throughout the night.

You walked Ellie home around midnight, she insisted to say goodnight to Apollo, who was ecstatic, as always, for the attention.

As you walked her back across the street, she grumbled about having to deal with Joel’s “grumpy old ass self” and you couldn’t help but chuckle despite completely understanding his desire to isolate himself from the painful reminders of his own failures.

As she enters the house, you see a dark figure in the upstairs window, obscured by the faint light behind it. But you could identify the shape, and as soon as you fully look up to study it further, he disappears from view.

Your body shivers as you step into your house, a different shiver than just from the cold. The shiver you get when someone has been watching you, your body knows it before you do. You always hated that feeling, yet this feeling… made your heart race in a long forgotten familiar way.

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< prev chap | masterlist | next chap >

Sorry for the delay between chapters, I know it’s very slow especially for an unestablished writer in this community, HOWEVER, I might write some one-shots and other steamy series while this one simmers because I don’t want to get ahead of myself! I am writing these chapters as I go since I really only write at work. So it’s slower, but I have plans. Many evil plans, I may need to up the warnings a lot as I go. Anyways, enjoy!

[ellisgirlfriend]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

dom!ellie nsfw headcanons

tw: smut, smoking

wc: 1121

♡ She's a whole different person during sex, the first time you did it you didn't expect her demeanor to change so drastically, but you didn't complain.

♡ She loves a little pain, biting and marking you, showing everyone that you're hers. You feel embarrassed when someone points out your hickeys, but just for a moment, cause as much as you want to deny it, you actually enjoy it.

♡ She gets jealous easily, too easily. When Ellie invites you to hang out with her friends, some guys try to flirt with you, without knowing that you're taken, making Ellie slightly twitch in her seat. You love seeing her all worked up and impatient, although you know what she'll do when you two are alone. She always lets the anger out on you in bed, she's so focused on her thoughts that she doesn't even talk or make eye contact. Afterwards, you always assure her that she's the only one for you.

♡ She's really mean, she loves teasing you until you beg for more. It takes a lot of time for her to actually fuck you, that makes you impatient, so you grab her hand and you place it between your thighs. You're practically begging for her touch and rough hands to finally finger you and put you in your place.

♡ She knows that you love her voice and she takes advantage of that, right when you're vulnerable. 'You really can't resist anymore, hm? ' she whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, almost making you feel like jelly. She grabs your wrist and pins it on the bed frame, making you whine in pleasure. You didn't wanna admit it but, you like her being so rough. 'I'll let this one slide, but next time, I'll fuck you stupid. Do you hear me?'

♡ She loves eating you out like you're her last meal. Besides the fact that she loves changing the pressure and speed and her tongue piercing abusing your overstimulated clit, she also won't let you finish. Even though you're moaning and squirming under her big frame, you still want more, you need her slender fingers inside your needy slit. Of course, she won't do that just yet, she wants to see you cum only from her tongue.

♡ She uses spit as lube, you feel so strange looking at her spit on her fingers, anticipating what she'll do to you. She stretches your pussy, adding finger after finger until you feel full down to your core. 'Baby, you like that? You're taking my fingers in so easily, like you were made for me.' Every word she says makes you tighten around her finger and she notices every move. 'You're so tight, just a few words and you're getting even hornier? What a needy slut.' Her long fingers reach every sensitive spot inside you, she makes you cum without even trying.

♡ She smokes, even during sex. She gets up, you thought she was done with you but after a few moments she comes back with a strap, smirking down at you. Even though you're tired from overstimulation, she still wants more from you. She slides the strap along your slit, teasing you. Somehow, you still feel your pussy pulsating, wanting more. After some time, she finally enters you easily, cause you're practically dripping wet. Her casual attitude makes you even more aroused, you're moaning like a bitch and she just lights a cigarette, acting like it's no big deal. While she thrusts into you, she grabs the back of your head and pulls you closer to her face, blowing smoke slowly in your face making you squirm from the strong scent filling up your lungs.

♡ After cleaning you up, Ellie excuses herself because she has to study for tomorrow's exam, you get it, you're busy as well but you still want her in your arms. You can't let her leave without a hug, feeling her touch one last time.

♡ After saying goodbye, Ellie finally exits the room, without thinking, she covers her mouth tightly. Feeling scared of not leaving a mess outside the room, she tries to run as fast as she can to find a trashcan or something.

♡ She tries to fight her urge, finally getting close to a trashcan she lets it all out. Finishing it with a last thought, 'hOLY GUacamole this ugly bitch stinks like unwiped ass.' Ellie still can't get that smell out of her head, haunting her....forever. She almost pukes again, but she tries to hold it in, hissing, clenching her fists, almost leaving a red mark on her palms. She tries to calm down but SHE CAN'T, looking at the sky, wondering what she did wrong but nothing answered her. Gay people.

♡ Some people wander on campus, looking at her weirdly, but she didn't care. Her mind was full of one single thing. She reaches to her pocket, trying to get her phone out, her hands were shaking like hell, but her fingers try to press on that one specific phone number: Jesse's. She needs a friend right now. Dark times.

♡ The phone was dialing loudly in her sensitive ear while she was waiting for that bitchass to pick up. Finally, after some long minutes, she hears a quiet voice through the speaker: 'What's up? Did something happen?' he asks in a concerned voice.

'A lotta shit happened, dude. I puked in the trashcan n' shit.' she said, trying to remain composed.

'Uh..did you drink- are you drunk? Do you want me to pick you up?' he replies.

'No, Jesser. This problem, it's not just alcohol, it's not temporary, this day will forever haunt me n' shit.'

'What.' he said, confused, not sure if she's joking or not.

'So, like....' she plays with her hair, 'I was fucking this girl, like a master, y'know? I did that whole foreplay shit and then... hunger hit and I had to go to town.'

'What....' Jesse said.

' Yeah, I know, pretty kinky of me. I'm popular with those. Anyway, I was eating the meal and out of nowhere, damn, I felt weird, bro. Unusual. A smell hit me and I wondered if that's a dead rat but-but no, Jess....it was the stinky ass pussy.'

Jesse still doesn't answer but Ellie, nevertheless, continues.

'I tried my best to hold my breath, enjoy the meal, like a starved man but the smell was so strong, it abused my nostrils n' shit. I had to dip. Like doritos in my salsa, y'know?'

'Okay..' Jesse said.

'So, you get what I'm saying? I need a new lunch, you got one? A friend, something...? Heh.'

'Ew you're weird as fuck.'

'Tell me something I don't know. You got clean ones?'

'On it, sweetcheeks.'

author note: i saw the ellie gas mask pic and my brain just farted this fanfic. goodie.

[ao3feed-harleyquinn]

Ghost Behind Bars

by UndercoverChangeling So here’s the thing: The GIW didn’t have enough power to kidnap and torture Danny(unlike the Fentons, who weren’t bound by any kind of morals and didn’t care about the legality of their experiments), but they were still a government agency. Therefore, they settled for the next best thing, locking him away in prison for the rest of his life. Ok, to be fair, he did kill his parents, but that was self-defense! Honestly? It could be worse. At least he knows his real family is safe. That is, until he’s transferred to Arkham Asylum, and his problems seem to multiply. AKA We’ve all seen Danny as an Arkham guard, but what about as an Arkham prisoner? Words: 7817, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Danny Fenton, Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Jazz Fenton, Batfamily Members (DCU), Rogues Gallery (Batman), quite a few villains but most are just one offs, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Waylon Jones Relationships: Danny Fenton & Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Everyone Additional Tags: Arkham Asylum, Danielle "Dani" Phantom is Called Ellie, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Trans Danny Fenton, not mentioned but always true in my fics, Danny Fenton Is Danielle "Dani" Phantom's Parent, at this point I cant write anything else, Good Sibling Jazz Fenton, Protective Jazz Fenton, De-Aged Danielle "Dani" Phantom, BAMF Danielle "Dani" Phantom, BAMF Danny Fenton, Ancient of the Speed force Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Speedster Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Dead Jack and Maddie Fenton, Dead Vlad Masters, Mentioned Guys in White | GIW (Danny Phantom), tell me if I missed any tags, Ancient of Space Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton Has an Ice Ghost Core, Danielle "Dani" Phantom Has a Electric Ghost Core, Ghost Speak | Ghost Language (Danny Phantom), Overpowered Danny Fenton via https://ift.tt/SyeZ7x8

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Oscar Peterson - The Bach Suite: Allegro (with sheet music)

Oscar Peterson - The Bach Suite: Allegro (with sheet music)Oscar PetersonPlease, subscribe to our Library. Thank you!Best site for Jazz sheet music transcriptions download.Browse in the Library:

Oscar Peterson - The Bach Suite: Allegro (with sheet music)

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Oscar Peterson

Oscar Peterson was one of the greatest piano players of all time. A pianist with phenomenal technique on the level of his idol, Art Tatum, Peterson's speed, dexterity, and ability to swing at any tempo were amazing. Very effective in small groups, jam sessions, and in accompanying singers, O.P. was at his absolute best when performing unaccompanied solos. His original style did not fall into any specific idiom. Like Erroll Garner and George Shearing, Peterson's distinctive playing formed during the mid- to late '40s and fell somewhere between swing and bop. Peterson was criticized through the years because he used so many notes, didn't evolve much since the 1950s, and recorded a remarkable number of albums. Perhaps it is because critics ran out of favorable adjectives to use early in his career; certainly it can be said that Peterson played 100 notes when other pianists might have used ten, but all 100 usually fit, and there is nothing wrong with showing off technique when it serves the music. As with Johnny Hodges and Thelonious Monk, to name two, Peterson spent his career growing within his style rather than making any major changes once his approach was set, certainly an acceptable way to handle one's career. Because he was Norman Granz's favorite pianist (along with Tatum) and the producer tended to record some of his artists excessively, Peterson made an incredible number of albums. Not all are essential, and a few are routine, but the great majority are quite excellent, and there are dozens of classic Standards. Without doubt, Oscar Peterson was one of the giants of jazz piano. His illustrious career spanned almost seven decades, and he played with some of the biggest names in jazz, including Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie and Herbie Hancock. Duke Ellington called him the “Maharajah of the keyboard,” while Count Basie remarked, “Oscar Peterson plays the best ivory box I’ve ever heard.” Born in a poor neighborhood of Montreal, Peterson became a piano virtuoso at an early age, and credits his sister Daisy Sweeney with expanding his musical horizon. Under his sister’s tutelage, Peterson mastered the core classical repertory, including the preludes and fugues by Johann Sebastian Bach. Bach’s continued influence inspired the composition of the Bach Suite, first released on the 1986 album “Oscar Peterson Live!” In 1960, Peterson established the Advanced School of Contemporary Music in Toronto, which lasted for three years. He made his first recorded set of unaccompanied piano solos in 1968 (strange that Granz had not thought of it) during his highly rated series of MPS recordings. With the formation of the Pablo label by Granz in 1972, Peterson was often teamed with guitarist Joe Pass and bassist Niels Pedersen. He appeared on dozens of all-star records, made five duet albums with top trumpeters (Dizzy Gillespie, Roy Eldridge, Harry "Sweets" Edison, Clark Terry, and Jon Faddis), and teamed up with Count Basie on several two-piano dates. An underrated composer, Peterson wrote and recorded the impressive "Canadiana Suite" in 1964 and has occasionally performed originals in the years since. Although always thought of as a masterful acoustic pianist, Peterson has also recorded on electric piano (particularly some of his own works), organ on rare occasions, and even clavichord for an odd duet date with Joe Pass. One of his rare vocal sessions in 1965, With Respect to Nat, reveals that Peterson's singing voice was nearly identical to Nat King Cole's. A two-day reunion with Herb Ellis and Ray Brown in 1990 (which also included Bobby Durham) resulted in four CDs. Peterson was felled by a serious stroke in 1993 that knocked him out of action for two years. He gradually returned to the scene, however, although with a weakened left hand. Even when he wasn't 100 percent, Peterson was a classic improviser, one of the finest musicians that jazz has ever produced. The pianist appeared on an enormous number of records through the years. As a leader, he has recorded for Victor, Granz's Clef and Verve labels (1950-1964), MPS, Mercury, Limelight, Pablo, and Telarc.

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[gaddaboutgriffon]

Ok picking this back up.

It’s been 8 months since Danny disappeared and the ghost situation in amity has forgot of control to the point the GIW couldn’t keep it hidden anymore, and attracts justice league attention. The JLD are sent in to clean up while the main league deals with the Ecto acts violating the meta acts. The JLD find group of teens barely keeping both the Ghost, GIW, and Fentons dra at bay while the rest of the town seem to be holed up in the mayor’s bunker. This Teens are Sam with fully realized liminal plant powers and some occult magic. Tucker with technopath and Egyptian magic. Val with her ghost hunter suit. Jazz who has developed empath abilities along with Amazon like strength to koolaid through walls like her father. Paulina who now has a dragon form. And let’s throw in Dash who is getting enhanced strength and speed. (Unless you guys can think of a better power for him.) those 6 are basically being recruited into young justice or teen titans which ever fits the au. And they tell the justice league members they have been looking for a missing friend for 8 months, and the exact day he disappeared. The same day Robin disappeared. Not sure who but someone is going to make a mental connection there.

———

Danny had no idea that incubating ghost cores takes longer than a normal pregnancy, or that his body would shape shift for it. He is about 13 months in but is just now feeling like Dan and Ellie could come at any day. though the first 5 months was his past self and the remaining 8 his future or is it his current self has been through it. And after 13 months of this he is irritated and snappy at everything. He can feel it is almost time though. Like almost any day soon. What makes him even more ready to break someone's neck is that everyone is looking at him like he looks like it could be any moment. He knows he does but the reminders are not appreciated. At least everyone is quick look and move away. The few times he did lose his temper and ... ahem gave some ninjas a smack down, it firmly gave them a reason not to cross the halfa.

It also had the unfortunate side effect of making this this fermenting ecto pit's Fruit loop be more interested in him. Trading the info, he had on Vlad got him in the door, but now Danny is concerned the old man is, gag, thinking of adopting him. The fact that two fruitloops want Danny in their family may not be a lot but it is enough to make him suspicious Desiree or someone put a curse on him to be a magnet for rich old mentally unstable men. at least the last hissy fit has everyone avoiding his nest. that gives him even more time with cute chubby cheeked 2-year-old Damian. A week later Dan and Ellie were out and Damian was learning how to be a sibling.

Meanwhile Jason is just confused why the training seems easier than he remembered. still bone cracking exhausting but he has a vague impression it was worse the first time. Even stranger is no missions yet. Which he is glad for since that keeps him close to Danny incase anything happens and they have to run, but it is weird. He is beginning to worry what Ras may be planning. Well, whatever it is, for now it is best to try and keep their heads low and give the twins as much time to grow as possible before they find someplace new to lay low. after all they have about 4 more years before he can return as Red Hood without royally screwing up the timeline.

well that is all i got for now. maybe someone else can add something that will inspire more.

Dead on Main time travel with a mom Danny twist.

Jason calls in a favor from someone on the justice league dark team for help with a case that got magical. the person sends him Danny. it goes well. they're both working very professionally. something happens and they end up back in time in their younger bodies.

Both of them are in the same city that they were working the case on. They are far away from home but Jason is 15 a few months before he finds out about his bio mom and Danny at this time is incubating Dan and Ellie's cores.

Neither of them quite realize the repercussions of what's Happening. The two of them team up to try and get back home. What the two of them don't realize is Danny's friends and family have no idea where he is though they are less worried than the bat family who fully believe Jason is kidnapped.

The two of them go on adventure trying to dodge any local heroes or villains. Eventually the two of them are able to get into contact with Clockwork and Clockwork tells them that they have altered this timeline too much for them to go back. 

The two of them angst about that until they have to get forced out of that because they run into a local hero. I want to say one of the Titans that work with Nightwing because then they recognize Jason but have no reason to know that he's missing.

the two of them then realize that because they're in their younger bodies everyone has no idea where they are. This is when Danny realizes that at that age he is incubating Dan and Ellie which makes him try to split off from Jason.

As Danny's trying to figure out a way to tell Jason what's going on Jason realizes that Danny is getting really sick or at least he thinks is really sick. He's getting tired more easily than before and keeps throwing up. Jason originally thought it was due to stress of the situation but it becomes more and more clear that it is not. They end up having a confrontation which leads to Danny telling him that they are basically pregnant. 

Jason tells Danny that they are not leaving them, especially not after everything that happened. The two of them decide together where to go. The two of them end up deciding the only places that they can go are Amity park or Gotham because of the ambient ectoplasm.

They can go to Amity Park except last time Danny was there it was a bad Fenton parents reveal which led to both Dan and Ellie dead with jazz wheelchair bound as well as Sam and Tucker in comas.

 Or

they could go to Gotham except Jason is probably presumed missing. Having Wayne and bat family connection is probably best for them except for Jason having a falling out in the last timeline as well as knowing that he is supposed to be dead in a few weeks. Jason knows that his death is a major turning point for his family as well as many other things in the timeline.

[forthelorewick]

Blessed with Beauty and Rage

Prologue: “My sorrow— I could not awaken”

“Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe

Series summary:

The very core of who you are is hypocritical. Every day is a reminder of what you've lost, of who you've allowed yourself to become. Your walls are built around your heart like the fortress of Jackson, until… a certain man tries to pry his way through. How long can you withstand such intrusion? Will your heart ever open, will your soul ever heal, the way you have helped so many others do? Will you ever learn that you're worth saving too?

joel miller x f!reader

Story Warnings: 18+!!! MDI! (not yet, but we’ll get there)

outbreak/jackson au, outbreak happened in 2003, canon-typical graphic blood/ violence descriptions, anxiety, PSTD, grief, guilt, major character death(s)- (not Joel or reader), reader has nicknames (OC!reader), no use of y/n, explicit language, pining/longing/yearning, ANGST; so soft yet so tortured; emotionally unavailable reader, emotionally unavailable Joel; self-depreciating and self-sabotaging behavior, mentions of sh; shrink!reader Jackson!joel; video game Joel and Ellie; reader is in her early 40s - Joel is late 50s; implications that reader is bisexual; eventual smut, slow burn.

| Master list | next chapter >

Chapter content: angst, some cursing, reader is a bisexual and an unavailable mess, antisocial behavior

WC: 2.6k

Mainly character introductions and some background information, the first few chapters will be a bit slower. Meet shrink and her socially ineptness.

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December 2023:

It had been a while since you'd had new people in Jackson, the winter months approaching usually preventing people from venturing out and even keeping infected at bay.

But alas, the commotion was stirring around the town as the big gates opened to reveal two newcomers. An older man, around fifty to fifty-five, and a girl who couldn't be any older than sixteen. They didn't have much similarity in their appearances so they must not be related, not uncommon that odd duos had become reliant on each other. Still, the mystery shrouded these two. An odd gruffness to the man, his eyes frantically searching the crowds, keeping her as close to him as possible.

Until, you see his eyes flash with disbelief, they widen and you swear you see a glimmer in them. A glimmer of hope and relief. The town turns to see who had caught his eye in such a way, and you see Tommy pick up speed and the two men meeting in a tight embrace.

You know who this man is, never thought you'd ever see him and maybe in your mind he had been long gone since that's how this world works. Families don't usually get reunited.

Tears threaten to fall from the older man’s eyes, but they don't. It seems as if a weight has been lifted off of the younger man (but not by much)’s shoulders. Yet, the older still seemed so heavily weighed down. As if the weight had been shifted onto him from his brother’s shoulders.

You didn't need to know them personally to know they were brothers, their features were similar, their hair a similar color and texture. Although, the older brother was greying and the younger was not. You know there's a five year age difference, and although it is not as if the years have been bad to the older man, you could tell it's just heavy on him. The same way it felt heavy to you.

His broad, firm stature quickly resumed its stiffness as Tommy led him and the girl towards the mess hall.

Tommy turns to find you in the crowd and shoots you a smile and brief wave, his eyes lit up and his steps light as they enter the mess hall.

You nod in acknowledgement, returning a half smile, promptly finding your way out of the crowd that had gathered.

The whole town resumed its prior activities, murmuring gossip of the man and girl, regarding what it takes to have lived outside of those walls and the odd timing of their arrival.

Anyone who knew Tommy knew of his brother whom he hadn't seen in nearly a decade. Since he's known you, since around when Jackson was founded.

You hear your name called, familiar and warm, and turn toward the voice instinctively.

You find the source to be your friend, Kris, making her way toward you, cheeks flushed from the sun, dirt smudged on her knees from the garden. There’s a lightness in her step—like she’s caught in the glow of something simple and good.

“Hey, you,” she approaches and stands close to you, smiling like she doesn’t know any better.

You try to return it, but your chest is already too tight.

You glance around. Anywhere but her. People moving through the square, the faint sound of someone shouting in the distance. The world continuing even while your world felt like it froze in time.

She reaches for your arm, just briefly, fingers grazing the fabric of your sleeve. You let her touch linger. Then it’s gone.

“I wasn’t sure I’d run into you,” she looks down and makes a circle in the dirt with her toe absentmindedly. “I thought maybe you’d be busy.”

“Fair to assume,” your smile welcoming but reserved, wary of whatever garnered this interaction today.

You glance away. Somewhere nearby, you can hear hammering and the low hum of someone’s radio crackling through static. Anything but the quiet between you.

“Right.” She shifts her weight. Wraps her arms around herself like a shield. “I didn’t mean to make things… weird,” and the words hang there like fresh laundry caught in a sudden rain.

You exhale through your nose. “You didn’t.”

But you both know that’s not true.

“I kissed you,” yes, you were well aware of that fact. “I know how you are. I was just… stupid to think I’d be the one to change that.”

You want to look at her. You want to say something, anything, that will make this less painful. But the words won’t come.

She’s beautiful in the fading light. Skin golden, hair windblown, eyes tired in a way you understand too well. She should be with someone who can meet her in the light. You’ve lived too long in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

She smiles, but it’s brittle. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”

“I wish I could give you something different.”

“I know.”

You just look at her, that's all you can do. This angel, this goddess who you just can't figure out why the hell your heart is so hardened, so unavailable. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt her, but as much as you wish you could feel, you just don't. For anyone. And you hate it.

“It's not-” it's not you, it's never you, Kris. You're wonderful and sweet and charming— all I wish is that I could find a way to let someone in, to be seen, to be known, to share. But I don't know how and I don't know if I ever could. Everyone that has ever known that side of me— has known me- is dead. And I fear those pieces of me died with them.

You can never voice these things, you would just end up staring open-mouthed, expecting anything to come out, but it can't. You are incapable of human connection past anything platonic and even then you fucking struggled.

“I don't deserve you,” and it stuns you that it made it all the way from your brain and out of your mouth.

She looks at you and a solemn smile adorns those soft lips.

“I think you deserve more than you know.”

You almost thank her. But it feels wrong. Thanking someone for letting you break their heart gently.

She exhales slowly, unsure how to balance the difference in tones. “Anyway,” she adds with a dramatic elongation to further the emphasis of the conversational transition, voice softening as she shifts into safer ground, “Maria said you haven’t RSVP’d.”

You blink. “To what?”

“The little dinner-slash-game-night thing on Saturday,” the casual way she mentioned a social gathering to a person known to dislike them alluded to someone scheming and plotting… “She’s roped me into helping set up. Probably regrets that already.”

You squint at her accusatorially. “Is this an ambush?”

“Of course not,” she bites back a smile. “It’s a totally natural segue into a completely casual invitation.”

You huff, almost smiling. “I don’t think Maria needs any help guilt-tripping me.”

“She might,” Kris teases. “But I figured I’d give her a head start.”

You shake your head slowly. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s what everyone says,” she offers a soft smile, turning to go where she was initially headed before she ran into you. Then she pauses, just long enough to look back at you. “Think about it, okay? It’s not just for Maria.”

You nod your head in reply. Not a yes, not a no… just a polite end to the conversation.

You watch Kris walk away, her figure growing smaller with each step, and you don’t move.

Not yet.

Because something twists in your chest, and it’s not regret exactly… more like recognition. You recognize this feeling. The ache of wanting to be close to someone and the instinct to run the other way. To bury it deep before it can bloom into something more dangerous.

You stay rooted where she left you, arms crossed tightly around yourself as if they can hold everything in. Your breath, your thoughts, your heart.

You are well aware of yourself being so far away all the time, so lost in the clouds, so enshrined by the grief and the horrors that surround your mind.

Your work as a shrink is the only time people see you as any semblance of open and welcoming because it's professional, it's you getting into their minds, not your own. Making them feel comfortable and understood. It's easy– to listen and observe. To understand. Textbook, even.

To have true friendships and relationships, however, it requires a two way street which you can't quite offer- it still befuddles you that somehow you had people who you could tolerate and were considered friends. Friendships by proxy mostly, but friendships nonetheless.

You wish you knew how to explain it. How your heart feels like a boarded-up room, how grief still lives in your walls like mold. You know how to crack people open. Not how to let anyone in.

The people in your life—Maria, Tommy, M.C.—they love you anyway. Love you like a sister, a constant. Whether you deserve it or not.

You shouldn't have even let Kris close enough to kiss you, and you knew you were fucking up when you kissed her back.

Because you wanted to feel something. You wanted to want her the way she deserved. And maybe for a second you thought… maybe.

But you couldn’t.

Because there’s a difference between wanting connection and being capable of it. Between being touched and being moved.

You look down at your boots, at the dirt scuffed along the edges, and realize you’re still standing in place. Still afraid to take a single step toward anything that looks like healing.

You sigh.

And you start walking.

As with all things, you have filed such an encounter under further reasons to avoid any and all potentially complicated circumstances affiliated with others’ feelings in regards to you personally.

You understood perfectly fine. You can never blame others for the way you make them feel, but you were unable to put your own preaching into practice. Always know, yet unable to do. It was as if you had been cursed with knowledge and understanding only to ever experience what you knew and understood from an observational perspective.

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Game night, a few days later

“She’s here!” You hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the door before it’s opened to reveal a small group of women. You had been the last to arrive, but you brought treats. Cookies and a pie for the occasion, it was soon to be Christmas, after all.

“Shrink!” M.C. was the first to nickname you as such. Not that you had ever actually told anyone that you didn't like the nickname.

“Am I the last one here?” You step into the warm home and shake off the chill of the evening.

“You’re right on time” and you knew you weren’t. You were purposely twenty minutes late.

The house smells like roasted garlic and fresh bread when you arrive, which only makes it worse. You were hoping for something low-effort. Half-stale crackers and a flickering lantern on a table. Something casual enough to justify your hovering in the doorway until everyone forgot you were even invited.

But no. Maria went full dinner party mode. Candles, table settings, music—Jackson’s Greatest Hits: 70s Folk Edition—playing softly from a speaker in the corner. And people. So many people.

You step inside the living room and instantly regret it.

“There she is,” Maria says from the kitchen, not even looking up. “I told Kris she’d guilt you into showing up eventually.”

You freeze like a deer in headlights, one foot still angled toward the door.

“Oh good,” you mutter, voice flat. “A trap.”

Maria smirks and hands Tommy a serving spoon to keep stirring whatever she had been working on.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she says. “It’s just dinner and games. Nobody’s asking you to join a commune.”

You sigh and remove your coat, folding it over your arm. “Define games.”

“Low-stakes. Civilized,” Tommy chimes in, already looking like he’s lying.

Maria winks at him and turns to you. “We vetoed Monopoly. You’re welcome.”

“Ah, a shame, really,” you turn to look take in the whole of the atmosphere.

The living room’s already buzzing. M.C. now curled up on the floor beside the fireplace, probably plotting potential friendships for you. A few others you vaguely know from town or from counseling wave or smile. You nod. It’s exhausting.

And then your eyes shift naturally to Kris.

She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, hands wrapped around a mug, laughing at something M.C. just said. Her eyes lift the moment you enter, and though she doesn’t wave or call out, her face softens like she’d been holding tension she didn’t even notice.

You search the room with your eyes for the farthest chair from her.

Maria’s watching you. You can feel it. You sit anyway.

Dinner passes in a blur of homemade soup and awkward silences. You speak only when spoken to. You push food around your plate more than you eat it. When someone passes you a bottle of wine, you shake your head.

“Still not drinking?” M.C. asks.

“Still not drinking,” you confirm, and she shrugs, already distracted by someone explaining the rules of Mille Bornes.

Tommy brings out a deck of cards. Maria brings out a bowl of dried apple slices and sets it near you, like it’s a peace offering. Or a bribe.

And then—because the universe is cruel—Kris sits beside you. Just near enough that her knee brushes yours when she shifts.

You don’t move.

“You made it,” her voice quiet and low, intended only for you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The sarcasm drips from your throat like a leaky pipe.

“Did it hurt?”

“Excruciating.”

She smiles into her tea. “I’m glad.”

You glance at her sideways. “That I’m in pain?”

“That you’re here.”

You don’t answer. You just sit, listening to the sound of cards shuffling and people arguing over who cheated last time they played. The warmth of the fire starts to creep into your limbs. You let it. Just a little.

Kris leans back and turns her head toward you, just slightly. “Maria thinks you’ve been working too much,” she seems casual on the surface, but her voice is tight underneath. “Come to dinner. Just dinner. Say hi, eat her overcooked roast. She’ll think she got through to you and you can go back to hiding for another month.”

“Is that what this has been all about?” You sigh, trying to hide your exasperation at the futile attempts Maria makes to socialize you.

“You know how much it means to her.”

You nod your head once, crossing one leg over the other, shifting awkwardly.

“How many people will be there? Another night like this?” The offer to appease and then be guilt free to hide away once more delighted you endlessly.

Kris breathes out a quiet laugh. “No—no town-wide bonfire this time. Just the regulars. Tommy, M.C., me… the original crew.”

You nod in approval to the smaller grouping. You could handle that, it used to be a much more frequent occurrence before Tommy and Maria kept acquiring more and more friends. They were sociable people, you couldn’t fault them for that.

You hum, pretending that makes the idea more palatable. “I don’t need to be pitied,” you say after a pause, quieter now. “Or managed.”

“I know,” she says, too fast. And then, softer, “This isn’t that.”

You let her words hang in the air. You want to believe her, but you know how people are—especially the ones who care. Especially Maria.

She shifts again, digging her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Come. Just eat. Then disappear. You can even bring that weird music you like.”

You almost smile. “It’s not weird, it’s French jazz.”

“It’s unholy.”

You tilt your head. “You’re unholy.”

There’s that silence again, heavy and unsaid, like it always is when you’re near her.

“All right,” you give in, having given yourself a moment to think about it, “I’ll come.”

“For Maria?”

You nod once. “For the roast.”

That earns a huff of laughter from her, and it cuts through the distance like light through fog. Brief. Fleeting.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

| masterlist | next chap >

Welcome to the fucking ride!

[dykeomania]

𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: untitled (02)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: finger-fucking. you like ellie's tattoo. the end

𝐚/𝐧: mid certified mia classic containing all of the certified mia themes like getting fucked absolutely dizzy and mutual obsession and abrupt endings. started off as just a silly goofy thought and became something a little bit hornier than that (it's not that bad) (but like). lack of solid plot theme and other potential issues given the reason of yes it was just a thought at first and also because it was composed at like 1/2am. i have nothing else to really say for myself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: (edited, because i realized i forgot this) -- vaginal penetration, domtop!ellie, pretty foul language. watching ellie while's hand while she fucks you. think that's it

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k?

thinking about ellie's forearm tattoo,

being the only thing you can focus on as she's sat between your legs, stationed above you like a daydream, with her fingers so snug and deep inside your cunt that you find yourself laying there with wide, wet eyes and a stiff body, choking on every moan that's meant to be a breath but that comes out as something ripped and stretched. her brows are knit together in some weird mix of shock and determination as she curses under her breath about how she's never seen you this wet before. about how you're a fucking disaster. been itching for me to fuck you, huh?

it started with the hand that she's got splayed across your lower abdomen. the one pressing on that fucking spot that's nestled so deep inside of you, that every person you'd fucked before ellie had convinced you that it was an itch that would never be scratched. but ellie is hitting it like she's memorized the route -- which she did. passes over it with the rough pads of her fingers in an intentional combination of strokes and come-hither motions stemming from curled fingers, and then has the audacity to push her hand down against the lower part of your stomach and press on it externally. you didn't even fucking know that she could do that -- you didn't know that you would feel that.

the width of her hand splayed across your lower torso was godlike. was something out of a book, or a movie, how her hand fit your frame like it was fucking made to be against you,

and then you notice it.

it's not until you're shivering with pleasure. ellie's arm is burning, and your body is unable to decide what it wants to do between fucking up against her slickened palm in some fueled fit of greed and delirium or sitting up -- or fighting to, rather -- and watching her, in some awkward position only accentuates the tightening in your both of your cores. regardless, your body seems pretty set on gripping some part of ellie's arm. you find that clawing at her bicep makes her occasionally moan into your mouth,

you find that gripping at her forearm makes her fuck you faster.

and in the moment where you can't believe the speed and the strength at with which she is fucking you, all your eyes can do is hang on the grip that you've got on her forearm. her tattooed forearm, containing veins that bulge and accentuate the stems. the design of the fern that was once flat, and two-dimensional, and is now alive. new branches are created everytime her arm flexes when she moves in, and out of you.

for some reason, the sight is brutal. it makes you gasp. makes your pussy gush over her fingers and stop breathing before releasing an all too honest, too rooted, too teary-eyed, oh my god.

you don't manage to catch the way ellie's lower lip is caught between her teeth. nor the rosiness of her cheeks, or the baby hairs lightly sticking to the perimeter of her forehead, her upper cheekbones just beginning to gather a minor perspire-induced glow. you do catch how she looks at you, but it's only because she laughs a little. catches on too quickly. knows from past experience.

like watching me when i fuck you? gets you off watching you cum all over my fingers, doesn't it?

making such a mess all over my hand, babe.

your head falls back with some grating mix of shock and embarrassment, and the whines that leave your lips are your only bet at being able to vocalize the two.

it's cut short, because ellie's hand reaches to pull you up by your jaw, gentle and rough all-the-same,

keep looking.

makes you so fucking wet, can feel all you.

gonna keep fucking you so, so good, baby.

just gotta keep those eyes on me while i fuck you.

and you believe her.

you believe her as you feel your stomach constrict, and release. you believe it as you feel all of the air in your lungs catch fire. you believe it as the image of her tattooed arm fucking you becomes blurrier, as your lashes begin to gather moisture and stick while some stupid fucking look paints your expression on your face and your nails press deep, red welts into the leaves. you believe her as you mumble her name over and over and over again, as she momentarily presses your foreheads together, as she presses a kiss to the side of it, down the side of your cheek, down the side of your neck,

there you go, baby.

just like that, yeah?

yes, holy fuck, just like that. the phrase is something you think or sputter rather than say. some remnant of it garbles it’s way out of your mouth as you watch her, as you watch both of you. watch your hips stir into every thrust she makes, enamored, like the action was a memory of something you don't remember doing. watch as you let yourself accept it. start bathing in the sound of her fingers moving in and out of your cunt, of the friction caused by the base of her palm grinding against your clit. feel a tear streaking down your cheek as she moves works three, long, rough digits inside of you, like she knows you. like she loves you, or loves seeing you like this -- at this point, it has to be both.

to your ear, she whispers, somewhere mixed in the chaos, lips catching against the lobe of it,

i know, baby.

so good, feels so nice and tight around my fingers.

love fucking you like this, want you to cum for me.

one minute your legs are spread to let her in as deep as you can, and then they're straggling, knees scrambling to press themselves together,

yeah? gonna cum for me?

gonna make a mess on my hand, baby?

fuck, yeah. just like that, baby, cum for me.

take it all, and cum for me, just like that, just like that--

and the only time when you are able to pull yourself away from the sight, from the reality of a pleasure that was so impossible gifted to you from a girl so unreal, is when the world collapses underneath the arch of your back,

when her name leaves your lips embodying a literal, textbook, broken devotion,

while your pussy spasms and you wet the lower half of the fern that you were so focused on,

and is when your eyes roll. somewhere far, far into the back of your head.

[aspectpriority]

Listen, I surgically removed a pretty significant chunk of Joel's character when I decided to ignore the ending of the original game in my characterization of him. I know letting Arthur live should feel more significant but honestly? I feel like I've done Joel more of a disservice.

Joel feels like he should be a lot more... Hollow. He isn't some grand oak or solid foundation – there's very little left of him and what there is, isn't.. healthy? One does not come away from that life in one piece and arguably, one does not survive as long as Joel did by trying to Stay in one piece. Even as someone only Vaguely aware of canon, it feels pretty fair to say that at some point, Joel ended up neck deep in giving up his humanity and I honestly don't know if he ever really got it back. Post-apocalyptic worlds of that flavour are Hungry, and leave very little other than survival and despair.

I like the idea of Joel being a good father to Ellie. I like the idea of him recovering some of what he gave up to survive. I like the idea of him getting to soften with age. But I do think that he has edges that are sharp, like torn sheet metal, and if you trim them off, you're left with a different Shape of character.

To my mind, Arthur can escape. He could, hypothetically, see some sort of sense and decide that Dutch and the rest of them aren't worth it. TB conveniently swept under the rug for a minute, he's an independent man outside of the gang who is Capable of existing alone, even if he chooses to follow. He's not a Good man, and depending on how you play/characterise him, he won't ever Become one. He can die alone, scared and hated, if that's the way you want to go, and perhaps in that timeline he gets closest to the hollowness that I feel like characterises the version of Joel I've described above - that same embracing of cruelty as a fact of nature as they grapple with a fundamentally unfair and uncaring world - but I do genuinely feel like Arthur can get away from that without bending his character too far out of shape. Maybe it's wishful thinking, and the just, the nature of what I prefer to write, but that cruelty doesn't feel so thoroughly embedded in him such that removing it changes him as fundamentally.

Reducing Joel to "Good Dad, Strong Man, Father Figure :)" feels like you've created a different character. I caveat this by reminding anyone this far into my rambling, that I Did This, Twice In Fact, and of course, that Anyone Can Do Anything They Want Forever And Ever. You can paint Joel bubblegum pink and call him daddy if you want, and god speed, but my unwillingness and borderline inability to engage with the tragedy at the core of a lot of the media I enjoy is robbing my characters of depth and is getting frustrating, actually.

Ultimately, removing Joel from the world and events of TLOU is going to leave him in a strange purgatory where his formative character ter moments are no longer relevant, and if you're like me, half the Point is to take that Poor Fucking Bastard OUT of those situations, but in my existing writing, I genuinely feel like both Joel and Arthur (but especially Joel) have been stripped of a lot of what makes them interesting people. Joel's life can map Approximately onto a RDR2 style setting, but I feel like we have to contend with the fact that he isn't a good friend, or a good father, or a good lover, and that if push comes to shove, violence Will be his answer. He can exist beyond that, and I don't think you Have to write him in an actively stressful or traumatising or violent setting, but I do feel like we need to do the leg work of getting him From that place to where we want him to be, and account for it in his characterisation.

He is a blade that has been used for years and is losing its edge - his cuts aren't Clean anymore, and unless he learns otherwise, everyone and everything he loves Will get caught in the mess he makes. Neither of these men have been to therapy, they aren't going to have the Tools and the Skills laid out for them, and Joel is going to have to learn how to exist beyond survival and cruelty. That process isn't going to be quick, clean, or pretty, but just like in real life, it Will be worth it, and I think finding a way to show both the effort And the reward is so much more valuable for Us and what We want to do, than just letting him be Fine, Actually, out the gate.

Drafted post was a lot of words to say that Arthur RDR2 Morgan is loyal like a hound to a hunter who's lost his mind and Joel TLOU Miller rips at everything he cares about like the blade of a knife worn dull with use is the only thing he knows how to use anymore. Or something idk

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Machine learning's crumbling foundations

Technological debt is insidious, a kind of socio-infrastructural subprime crisis that’s unfolding around us in slow motion. Our digital infrastructure is built atop layers and layers and layers of code that’s insecure due to a combination of bad practices and bad frameworks.

Even people who write secure code import insecure libraries, or plug it into insecure authorization systems or databases. Like asbestos in the walls, this cruft has been fragmenting, drifting into our air a crumb at a time.

We ignored these, treating them as containable, little breaches and now the walls are rupturing and choking clouds of toxic waste are everywhere.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/27/gas-on-the-fire/#a-safe-place-for-dangerous-ideas

The infosec apocalypse was decades in the making. The machine learning apocalypse, on the other hand…

ML has serious, institutional problems, the kind of thing you’d expect in a nascent discipline, which you’d hope would be worked out before it went into wide deployment.

ML is rife with all forms of statistical malpractice — AND it’s being used for high-speed, high-stakes automated classification and decision-making, as if it was a proven science whose professional ethos had the sober gravitas you’d expect from, say, civil engineering.

Civil engineers spend a lot of time making sure the buildings and bridges they design don’t kill the people who use them. Machine learning?

Hundreds of ML teams built models to automate covid detection, and every single one was useless or worse.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/02/autoquack/#gigo

The ML models failed due to failure to observe basic statistical rigor. One common failure mode?

Treating data that was known to be of poor quality as if it was reliable because good data was not available.

Obtaining good data and/or cleaning up bad data is tedious, repetitive grunt-work. It’s unglamorous, time-consuming, and low-waged. Cleaning data is the equivalent of sterilizing surgical implements — vital, high-skilled, and invisible unless someone fails to do it.

It’s work performed by anonymous, low-waged adjuncts to the surgeon, who is the star of the show and who gets credit for the success of the operation.

The title of a Google Research team (Nithya Sambasivan et al) paper published in ACM CHI beautifully summarizes how this is playing out in ML: “Everyone wants to do the model work, not the data work: Data Cascades in High-Stakes AI,”

https://storage.googleapis.com/pub-tools-public-publication-data/pdf/0d556e45afc54afeb2eb6b51a9bc1827b9961ff4.pdf

The paper analyzes ML failures from a cross-section of high-stakes projects (health diagnostics, anti-poaching, etc) in East Africa, West Africa and India. They trace the failures of these projects to data-quality, and drill into the factors that caused the data problems.

The failures stem from a variety of causes. First, data-gathering and cleaning are low-waged, invisible, and thankless work. Front-line workers who produce the data — like medical professionals who have to do extra data-entry — are not compensated for extra work.

Often, no one even bothers to explain what the work is for. Some of the data-cleaning workers are atomized pieceworkers, such as those who work for Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, who lack both the context in which the data was gathered and the context for how it will be used.

This data is passed to model-builders, who lack related domain expertise. The hastily labeled X-ray of a broken bone, annotated by an unregarded and overworked radiologist, is passed onto a data-scientist who knows nothing about broken bones and can’t assess the labels.

This is an age-old problem in automation, pre-dating computer science and even computers. The “scientific management” craze that started in the 1880s saw technicians observing skilled workers with stopwatches and clipboards, then restructuring the workers’ jobs by fiat.

Rather than engaging in the anthropological work that Clifford Geertz called “thick description,” the management “scientists” discarded workers’ qualitative experience, then treated their own assessments as quantitative and thus empirical.

http://hypergeertz.jku.at/GeertzTexts/Thick_Description.htm

How long a task takes is empirical, but what you call a “task” is subjective. Computer scientists take quantitative measurements, but decide what to measure on the basis of subjective judgment. This empiricism-washing sleight of hand is endemic to ML’s claims of neutrality.

In the early 2000s, there was a movement to produce tools and training that would let domain experts produce their own tools — rather than delivering “requirements” to a programmer, a bookstore clerk or nurse or librarian could just make their own tools using Visual Basic.

This was the radical humanist version of “learn to code” — a call to seize the means of computation and program, rather than being programmed. Over time, it was watered down, and today it lives on as a weak call for domain experts to be included in production.

The disdain for the qualitative expertise of domain experts who produce data is a well-understood guilty secret within ML circles, embodied in Frederick Jelinek’s ironic talk, “Every time I fire a linguist, the performance of the speech recognizer goes up.”

But a thick understanding of context is vital to improving data-quality. Take the American “voting wars,” where GOP-affiliated vendors are brought in to purge voting rolls of duplicate entries — people who are registered to vote in more than one place.

These tools have a 99% false-positive rate.

Ninety. Nine. Percent.

To understand how they go so terribly wrong, you need a thick understanding of the context in which the data they analyze is produced.

https://5harad.com/papers/1p1v.pdf

The core assumption of these tools is that two people with the same name and date of birth are probably the same person.

But guess what month people named “June” are likely to be born in? Guess what birthday is shared by many people named “Noel” or “Carol”?

Many states represent unknown birthdays as “January 1,” or “January 1, 1901.” If you find someone on a voter roll whose birthday is represented as 1/1, you have no idea what their birthday is, and they almost certainly don’t share a birthday with other 1/1s.

But false positives aren’t evenly distributed. Ethnic groups whose surnames were assigned in recent history for tax-collection purposes (Ashkenazi Jews, Han Chinese, Koreans, etc) have a relatively small pool of surnames and a slightly larger pool of first names.

This is likewise true of the descendants of colonized and enslaved people, whose surnames were assigned to them for administrative purposes and see a high degree of overlap. When you see two voter rolls with a Juan Gomez born on Jan 1, you need to apply thick analysis.

Unless, of course, you don’t care about purging the people who are most likely to face structural impediments to voter registration (such as no local DMV office) and who are also likely to be racialized (for example, migrants whose names were changed at Ellis Island).

ML practitioners don’t merely use poor quality data when good quality data isn’t available — they also use the poor quality data to assess the resulting models. When you train an ML model, you hold back some of the training data for assessment purposes.

So maybe you start with 10,000 eye scans labeled for the presence of eye disease. You train your model with 9,000 scans and then ask the model to assess the remaining 1,000 scans to see whether it can make accurate classifications.

But if the data is no good, the assessment is also no good. As the paper’s authors put it, it’s important to “catch[] data errors using mechanisms specific to data validation, instead of using model performance as a proxy for data quality.”

ML practitioners studied for the paper — practitioners engaged in “high-stakes” model building reported that they had to gather their own data for their models through field partners, “a task which many admitted to being unprepared for.”

High-stakes ML work has inherited a host of sloppy practices from ad-tech, where ML saw its first boom. Ad-tech aims for “70–75% accuracy.”

That may be fine if you’re deciding whether to show someone an ad, but it’s a very different matter if you’re deciding whether someone needs treatment for an eye-disease that, untreated, will result in irreversible total blindness.

Even when models are useful at classifying input produced under present-day lab conditions, those conditions are subject to several kinds of “drift.”

For example, “hardware drift,” where models trained on images from pristine new cameras are asked to assess images produced by cameras from field clinics, where lenses are impossible to keep clean (see also “environmental drift” and “human drift”).

Bad data makes bad models. Bad models instruct people to make ineffective or harmful interventions. Those bad interventions produce more bad data, which is fed into more bad models — it’s a “data-cascade.”

GIGO — Garbage In, Garbage Out — was already a bedrock of statistical practice before the term was coined in 1957. Statistical analysis and inference cannot proceed from bad data.

Producing good data and validating data-sets are the kind of unsexy, undercompensated maintenance work that all infrastructure requires — and, as with other kinds of infrastructure, it is undervalued by journals, academic departments, funders, corporations and governments.

But all technological debts accrue punitive interest. The decision to operate on bad data because good data is in short supply isn’t like looking for your car-keys under the lamp-post — it’s like driving with untrustworthy brakes and a dirty windscreen.

Image: Seydelmann (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GW300_1.jpg

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ao3feed-harleyquinn]

Ghost Behind Bars

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/SyeZ7x8 by UndercoverChangeling So here’s the thing: The GIW didn’t have enough power to kidnap and torture Danny(unlike the Fentons, who weren’t bound by any kind of morals and didn’t care about the legality of their experiments), but they were still a government agency. Therefore, they settled for the next best thing, locking him away in prison for the rest of his life. Ok, to be fair, he did kill his parents, but that was self-defense! Honestly? It could be worse. At least he knows his real family is safe. That is, until he’s transferred to Arkham Asylum, and his problems seem to multiply. AKA We’ve all seen Danny as an Arkham guard, but what about as an Arkham prisoner? Words: 7817, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Danny Fenton, Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Jazz Fenton, Batfamily Members (DCU), Rogues Gallery (Batman), quite a few villains but most are just one offs, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Waylon Jones Relationships: Danny Fenton & Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Everyone Additional Tags: Arkham Asylum, Danielle "Dani" Phantom is Called Ellie, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Trans Danny Fenton, not mentioned but always true in my fics, Danny Fenton Is Danielle "Dani" Phantom's Parent, at this point I cant write anything else, Good Sibling Jazz Fenton, Protective Jazz Fenton, De-Aged Danielle "Dani" Phantom, BAMF Danielle "Dani" Phantom, BAMF Danny Fenton, Ancient of the Speed force Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Speedster Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Dead Jack and Maddie Fenton, Dead Vlad Masters, Mentioned Guys in White | GIW (Danny Phantom), tell me if I missed any tags, Ancient of Space Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton Has an Ice Ghost Core, Danielle "Dani" Phantom Has a Electric Ghost Core, Ghost Speak | Ghost Language (Danny Phantom), Overpowered Danny Fenton read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/SyeZ7x8

[nicos-oc-hell]

IDENTITY

Full name: Elisen Thundris (Thundris is the god of mountains) Chaeyra 

Nicknames:

Thundris, prefers if you use it when he’s in his male form

Elly by the gang

Chae by Logan

Mischief by her father

Eli (E-lie) by Aris

Date of birth: May 7th 1881

Gender: Bigender (She/her/hers/He/him/his)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Blood status: muggleborn

Ethnicity/Race: Mermaid

Nationality: Atlantean

MAGIC & HOGWARTS

House: Gryffindor

Wand: oak wood, phoenix feather core and 10 ½ inches

Animagus: squirrel 

Quidditch: seeker

Prefect: No 

Clubs: not in any

Extra magical abilities: Shapeshifter (the humans say metamorphmagus), can breathe underwater, is faster underwater, has control over water 

APPEARANCE AND VOICE

Faceclaim: Charlie Cox and Jennifer Lawrence

Height: 5’8

Weight: 138 lbs

Hair color: dark brown (naturally) then whatever color she feels like

Hair style:

Eye color: sea green

Skin tone: tan

Scars: a scar on his forehead because he was running around in the forest surrounding the marketplace

Modifications: everything if he’s in his male form and a tattoo that Haldir and Ayas made him get, they all have matching tattoos of a chameleon. His tattoo is on his left pec

Distinguishing marks: if you’ve happened to see him without a shirt on, you would’ve noticed the gills on his stomach and the scales coming up the side of his body from his leg

Clothing style:

Accessories: a pocket watch and a ring made by an elven-dwarf blacksmith in a minor city outside of Nytranthyr

What’s in their pockets?

Pocket knife

Quill

Candy

Money

What’s in their school bag?

Ink

More quills

Parchment paper

A pack of drinks

Voice claim: Jennifer Lawernce, Charlie Cox

Languages understood: English, Norse, Atlantean, Greek and Ancient Greek

Languages spoken: English, Norse, Atlantean, Greek and Ancient Greek

Speech and/or language disorder: No but she is dyslexic

PERSONALITY

Favorites:

Color: Blue

Food: Pizza

Weather: She loves storms

Books: Murder Mystery books

Hobbies: reading, swimming with Haldir, shapeshifting into random things, collecting stuffed animals of beasts from Eseria

Music: He loves listening to pianos and violins

Dislikes: Pretty much anyone from Malelin, the city in the skies, has a 600 year long beef with the city underwater

RELATIONSHIP

Father: Alun Chaeyra

Mother: Diondra Chaeyra

Little brother: Aris Chaeyra

Pet(s): A little pit bull that found its way into Eseria, Alun put a spell on the dog so it could breathe underwater and age at the same speed as Aris

S/O: tbd

Children: tbd

Friends:

The gang (Johnny, Elyon, Ayas, Haldir and Logan)

(hit me up if you would like your ocs to be friends with her)

Doormates:

This is tbd, as I have very poor planning

FACTS

Unlike the rest of the gang, Elisen is the only one who doesn’t have a human parent. Ayas is ¼ human seeing as one of his grandparents was a human.

While Haldir may also be a mermaid, since he is ½ human he doesn’t have to the full abilities of a mermaid for example; full mermaids can control water, Haldir can’t.

Elisen always has snacks on her, she could go days without leaving her dorm and her snack supply wouldn’t have a dent in it

Probably the sneakiest of out the gang

Will spend her afternoons sitting underwater like the original Percy Jackson she is

Makes a lot of bets and loses 2/3 of the time. That’s how she got her tattoo actually, losing a bet between Haldir and Ayas

Definitely makes bets on how long she can hold her breath underwater with people who don’t already know scheme