#ellie(oc)

[starrspice]

Hey! Been a minute since I've come up with a new AU

Tbh this was kind of a chain event started by @ayyy-imma-ninja 's very own Fairy AU ( please go check it out their Fairy AU is so crazy cute)

It kind of reminded me of Tinkerbell and The Great Fairy Rescue Which culminated in my own Fairy AU that's a mashup of all of my favorite fairy (and fairy adjacent) movies from my childhood

So think Tinkerbell mixed with Fern Gulley and Thumbelina

#maybe a bit of Strange Magic too #Y/N starts big but you better BELIEVE they're gonna shrink down #there may also be accidental fairy abduction #Y/N loves Ellie but she gets into trouble more than they'd like #fairy ring au #fnaf sb #moondrop #sundrop #my art #fnaf sun #fnaf security breach #fnaf moon #fanart #fairy sun #fairy moon #oc #ellie oc #y/n #sun x reader #sun x y/n #moon x reader #moon x y/n

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Of Snowmen and Middle-Earth

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @lfc-fanfiction, @rubybecker-rb2

Summary: Gakpo has been struggling to bond with the seven kids. To remedy this, he tries to build a snowman with them.

Cody Gakpo had received a lot of surprises when he’d came to Liverpool. Not the cold weather—he’d expected England in the winter would be colder than in the Netherlands. Not the lively atmosphere—he’d expected that from Van Dijk’s descriptions.

What really surprised Gakpo was how close everyone was to each other. Not just that, but there were six adults—and two married couples—with kids. In all, there were seven children living in Kirkby Ground.

He’d expected a bit of difficulty meshing with the others—he was new, after all. But he had not expected to deal with seven children.

Right now, there was a blanket of snow outside. Most of the others were busy doing something outside; he would join them later. But now he was in the same room with the kids, and they hadn’t even said hello to each other.

What can I do with them? Gakpo had never been good with kids. His younger cousins avoided him unless the grownups forced them to have some “quality time” together. He’d tried interacting with random babies he saw in the store or park, but every time he smiled at them they would either cry or throw something at him—usually, tuna cans.

Wait a minute. It was snowing outside, and snow was always a good place to start. Kids loved snow, so why not take them out to play in the snow? He wasn’t sure about the whole idea—one young adult to seven children under ten seemed disproportionate, plus there were two babies and Arwen would need help navigating the thick snow. But his big mouth prevented him from doing any more risk assessment.

“Kids! Let’s go build a snowman!”

Faster than you could say his name, the kids had surrounded Gakpo. All held up warm winter gear, all were clamoring for his help, and all wanted to go outside. NOW.

He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Alright, alright!” Gakpo held up a hand, taking baby Tristan from the ground. “Let’s get you all ready. Could one of you get the snow gear from wherever you keep it?”

“You mean the nursery? Sure!” Florrie and Kairo ran out the door, Arwen following close behind.

Gakpo sighed in relief, holding Tristan. The ten-month-old baby glared at him as if he’d just committed a crime. “Alright, little man. Let’s get you into your snowsuit.”

*

After wrestling with zippers and buttons and toggles and squirming, kicking limbs, Gakpo finally managed to get the kids out the door.

He pushed Arwen’s wheelchair onto the lawn, careful to mind the bumps in the road. After a brief discussion with Arwen, he’d found out that the eight year old usually used an electric wheelchair except in bad weather. Thick snow like this qualified as bad weather, so Gakpo would push her chair long distances and Arwen would wheel herself across short stretches of land.

Gakpo carried Ellie and Tristan in a double baby carrier, even though both could crawl and walk. Grace and Henrietta toddled around, but Gakpo had a twenty-foot length of rope tied between their wrists and his waist. It was highly unlikely they would run into danger considering that the lawn had a huge parking lot between itself and the road, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He’d only let Florrie and Kairo run free because they were a little older and would listen to him if he called.

“So, what are we going to use for our snowman?” he asked once the little ones had run off all their pent-up energy. Now he knew how every parent in the world felt. “Are we giving him a scarf?”

“Yeah!” Florrie took out a scarf from her pocket, holding it up like it was a trophy. “A scarf, and a carrot nose, and a magic hat that makes him sing and dance!”

“Frosty’s overrated,” said Arwen, tossing a snowball at the wall. “I’ll tell you a real snowman story, if you start those balls to the point where it’s big enough for me to roll.”

Ellie, interested in all the activity going on around her, demanded to get down from the baby carrier. Gakpo set the seven month old on Arwen’s lap, knowing that Arwen wouldn’t let her fall.

He tried to get Tristan to play in the snow as well. But Tristian refused to be put down. In fact, he just wanted to stay on Gakpo’s lap as a chubby dark teal lump.

*

Soon the snowman was done, and Gakpo still hadn’t managed to interact with the kids. Ellie and Tristian had fell asleep in the carrier, and Grace and Henrietta were tuckered out from romping in the deep snow. They sat next to Gakpo on the bench, watching Florrie, Kairo and Arwen have a snowball fight.

“You guys are all so lucky,” Gakpo whispered to Ellie, even though he knew the baby couldn’t hear him. “This is your home and everybody loves you. You’ve got people here who are great with kids. None of you guys are even interested in me.”

Henrietta yawned, as if to prove his point.

“I can’t hold an interesting conversation for too long,” he went on, kicking at the snow. “Pigs will fly before I do that.”

“No piggy!”

Arwen came up to Gakpo, wringing her hands together for warmth. “Hey.”

“Uh…hey Arwen.”

Arwen smirked, stopping beside the forward. “I’m usually called Arwen when I’m in trouble. Please, just call me Winnie.”

Now this was getting weird. “As in Winnie the Pooh?!”

“What? No way!” Arwen opened the bookbag on the back of her wheelchair, taking out a book. “I was named after the character in Lord of the Rings. Have you ever read that?”

“No.”

“You should.” Arwen handed Gakpo the dark green and blue book. “It’s epic. So Bilbo’s cousin Frodo goes with his Fellowship to destroy the One Ring and it’s maker, Dark Lord Sauron.”

Gakpo studied the book with new interest. “Maybe I should read this.”

“It’ll make more sense if you read The Hobbit,” Arwen advised him, taking a list out of her backpack. “And if you want more, there’s always The Two Towers and The Return of the King. It took me eighteen months to read all four of those books.”

“Just eighteen months?” Gakpo gulped, staring at the four thick books. “You must really like reading, Winnie.”

“It’s one of my hobbies, along with ping-pong. But do you know what I like better than reading stories? Telling them!”

“You tell your own stories? From your imagination? You’re lucky,” Gakpo admitted. “I’ve never had that much imagination. That’s why I’m not so good with kids.”

Arwen nodded, setting Grace on her lap. “I can relate. I’ve always wanted to do needlework, but I never had the patience to. What do you do for fun?”

“Not much,” Gakpo admitted with a shrug. “FIFA and checkers.”

“Hey, Mom and I play checkers sometimes.” Arwen extended a hand. “You want to play against me sometime?”

Gakpo hesitated a bit before shaking Arwen’s hand. “Sure, anytime you’d like.”

“Then we can go inside and start as soon as possible.” Arwen balanced Grace and Henrietta on her lap, tucking Lord of the Rings into her backpack. “Just make sure to find a table with enough space under it. We both need to fit our legs under there.”

Gakpo flashed her a thumbs-up as he stood from the bench. “Sure.”

Gakpo had always thought he wasn’t good with kids. But as he called for Florrie and Kairo to come inside, he thought that just this once, he might have a talent in babysitting after all.

#cody gakpo #grace oc #henrietta oc #arwen power oc #precious florrie #florrie oc #kairo oc #ellie oc #tristian oc #liverpool fc #liverpool #liverpool men #lfc #lfc players #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic #football #soccer fanfiction by lynn #soccer fanfiction #soccer

[krystal280791]

Ellinore (Ellie) Leslie

Ellie is my OFMD OC since I finished the series and she has by now a long story/backstory. 

She is the daughter of Captain Jonathan Leslie also known as Redbeard, an "enemy" pirate of Ed/Blackbeard. Ellie initially arrives on the Revenge as an infiltrator but ends up abandoning her father's plan (which was against Ed) and truly become a member of the crew...

#My Art #My OC #OFMD OC #Pirate OC #Ellie OC #Our Flag Means Death #OFMD #OFMD Pirate #I think I created a good story of her life! :) #But I doubt someone could be interested in a longer description of her! ^^'

[melly-artes]

I’m never finishing these rip

#ocs #all of them are ocs #Ellie oc #dove oc #Dolly Richard

[embeesart]

Some OC art I did while watching a volleyball game!!

Top is Magpie, one of my sonas, and the bottom is Ellie, one of my big comfort characters :]

#my ocs #oc art #magpie oc #ellie oc #traditional art

[birodactyloftheblog]

They’re about to start singing the backstreet boys

#😒✋ ​creating a normal height chart #😎👉 sending everyone to jail #TSOU #my art #my ocs #anubis oc #zero oc #krystal oc #ellie oc #benjamin oc #aura oc

[pyjamac]

hang on st christopher, now don’t let me go

#ellie's dangerous rear view mirror hooray #art #digital art #cricket's oc

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

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[ohraicodoll]

DESPERATELY NEED FERAL READER WITH EP 8 WITH AN INJURED JOEL AND KIDNAPPED ELLIE…….. I KNOW OUR CRAZY QUEEN WOULD KILL EVERYONE ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Yall asked for it lol

Violent Delights Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 6.7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: They took her kid and she was getting her back. Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and torture

She woke up with a start, having drifted off unknowingly after trying to keep watch, a sense of disorientation as she tried to figure out where she was and what was happening. The basement. They were still in the basement, the cold leeching any warmth from the walls and floors, the haggard breathing of her companion her only company. It’d been over 48 hours since she last slept, since Joel was hurt and they’d had to drag him into the house and patch him up. He wasn’t in good shape. Joel was so close to death’s door, it terrified her. They were so close to losing him and she had never felt more helpless.

She could still hear his pained groans, the glazed and blank look in his eyes, as she put pressure on the bleeding hole in his stomach just a couple days before. “Don’t you dare die, Joel. You still have to make shit up to me and you can’t do that dead. You can’t leave us again.” He’d tried to tell them to leave him. To go back to Tommy’s and leave him behind, the stubborn asshole. But Ellie managed to find the first aid kit and they’d sewn up the hole, wrapping it best they could with the little supplies they had. She knew it wasn’t enough. There could be shards left from the baseball bat, they weren’t the cleanest, nothing was sterile. She didn’t even know if something internal had been damaged. But it was all they could do. They’d been so focused on getting to Colorado they’d been using their food storage rather than hunting over the past week. Now it was biting them in the ass, their supplies dwindled. She’d managed to briefly go out and hunt down a rabbit, but game seemed scarce and leaving meant leaving Ellie and Joel alone. Without Joel, it was hard to sleep, look after Ellie, look after him and keep him stable, look after the fucking horses, and hunt. She was overwhelmed. So sleep went out the window. She took watch when Ellie was asleep, went and tried to hunt and scavenge the nearby houses when she was awake, and kept an eye on Joel in between taking care of the two horses in the garage. But at some point she’d fallen asleep finally, fallen deep and hard enough that she hadn’t noticed Ellie slipping the rifle from her hands and leaving the two adults alone.  A small scribbled note was placed on her lap on a piece of what looked like newspaper, “Be back soon -E.” She scrambled to her feet, looking around and cursed herself. Joel was still breathing steadily but his brow was covered with sweat from the infection he was staving off. Both their packs were against the wall but Ellie’s was gone and the panic that took hold was like a lightning bolt. It stole the breath from her lungs. Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone- it was a racing thought that circulated over and over again. Her main purpose, main job, and she’d fucking fallen asleep.

Her heart jumped further at hearing footsteps above her head, the slight creak and shift in the old wood, a door slamming…then it all came out in deep relief as she recognized the light shuffling.

Ellie raced down the steps, cheeks pink from cold and wind, and breath huffing out in a rush as she entered the basement.

She grabbed the girl immediately, shaking her by the shoulders with the vestiges of panic still in her blood, “Where did you go, Ellie? You weren’t supposed to leave!”

The teenager paused, eyes frantic and a little wild, but a tough set to her lips as she shook her head, “I went hunting and you needed sleep! I had to, but look! I got Joel medicine!” Ellie took the bottles out of their wrap, quickly moving away from her and kneeling down to Joel, beginning to lift up his shirt before she could even get a good look at what she had. The wound was ugly and discolored and she could hear him groan at the small touches. Her mind was still caught up in the panic of discovering the girl was gone and she quickly snatched the bottles away before the syringe was inserted. “Where did you get this?” she asked, turning it over in her hands. Penicillin. Two whole bottles of penicillin, practically liquid gold in their world, and Ellie had managed to get it while she slept. The teen looked nervous and tried to snatch it back, but she was quick even if she was exhausted and pulled her hand away, “Please, can we give it to him first and then I’ll explain?” Her eyes were so big for her face, cheeks pink. Her desperation to help Joel was evident. Ellie knew how bad he was doing and believed she held the cure to it all in her hands. She could only sigh and hand it back over, instructing her to give just a fourth of the bottle and to tap the syringe. Joel would probably have a heart attack if he knew she was letting the kid give it to him, but she knew Ellie had to do this herself. It was her win and she had to feel like she was the one saving him so she let her. But then they both stared, her knowledge only getting them that far. “Where the fuck am I suppose to put this?” Ellie cursed, looking at the wound and Joel’s arm, eyes switching between hers and his closed ones, “Fuck, how are we supposed to do this?” She cursed herself. Her medical knowledge was mediocre. Stitching, cleaning wounds, pulling out bullets, the basics they needed. Infections and medicine she had no clue about, “Just give it to him in his stomach. As long as it enters his blood stream, it should be fine.” At least, that’s what she thought. Ellie winced and inserted the needle, Joel giving out pained groans as it sunk into the sensitive area. They both watched the plunger empty the contents and then she pulled it out, trying to clean the needle the best she could. They only had one syringe and would have to reuse it. “And now we wait,” the teen commented and looked at his face as if at any second he would be magically better. He would wake up and smile and tell her good job. But he didn’t, staying silent on the small makeshift bed. “No, now you tell me where you went and how you got that,” she bit out, sitting on the other side of Joel to face her. Ellie winced and looked down at the small glass bottles in her hand, “You needed to sleep and we needed food. I know you think you can take care of all of us, but you can’t and I wanted to help by trying to hunt.” “That’s not your responsibility-” “It doesn’t matter. I wanted to help,” Ellie cut her off but then sighed, “And I did manage to actually get a deer…but I ran into these guys...” Instantly, she was on high alert, eyes searching everything that was visible and checking her for any wounds, “You ran into people and you’re barely telling me!” “I know!” the young girl argued back, hand resting on top of Joel’s, “They found my deer before me and said they were from a group with starving women and children. They offered to trade for half the deer and said they had medicine. I did everything I was supposed to! Got them to drop their guns, unloaded their rifles, and had them back away. One went to get the medicine and I kept the gun on the other.”

“So you gave them half the deer and they gave you the medicine then just let you go?” she asked and clenched and unclenched her fists. Ellie wouldn’t look so nervous if  that was the whole story and she wasn’t nearly tired enough to have been dragging half a deer carcass back. Shrugging, Ellie grimaced and refused to meet her eyes, “That was the deal…but they knew who we were. The people that attacked us at the university belonged to their group and this guy started talking about how one of theirs had been killed by a crazy man with two girls. He knows that was Joel. I don’t know why he let me go, but I think they’re looking for us.” With a curse, she quickly stood, hands on her hips and pacing in a tight circle, “Fuck. Fuck. And they didn’t come after you?”

“No, I think they let me go because I was a kid.” She doubted that. People rarely were that charitable, even to children in this world. Especially a child with a gun and an attitude like Ellie’s. The unspoken words were there though. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t come for her and Joel though. Ellie may be deemed innocent but the two of them were problems and only one of them was in commission currently. But what could they do? They couldn’t move Joel in his state. They couldn’t leave him behind either. They were stuck. “Okay. Maybe if they let you go they don’t plan on coming. Maybe they think both of us are injured if you were out on your own and won’t come,” she lied comfortingly and tried to speak the words into existence, knowing the kid was probably feeling guilty and needed some hope. They needed rest, needed to breathe for a second, and panicking now wouldn’t help.  It took a while to relax enough to let the adrenaline fade away.

Ellie laid down, exhausted, tucking into Joel’s side as she had the past couple nights and resting her head on his shoulder. He subconsciously leaned into her, still alive for now. Her heart ached at the sight, the way they held each other in their own ways. She didn’t have the strength to get after the girl more or uproot them out of precaution. They were all exhausted and Ellie had somehow managed to bring hope even if there was a cost.

She sat down by the stairs, flipped her knife between her fingers to keep her awake and focused, and watched the two sleep with her heart in her throat.

The men would come. Now that they knew they were in the area, they would come and they were stuck in this spot until Joel was better. There was no way they could get him on a horse and move him now without undoing all the healing he’d done. A thousand scenarios went through her head, sleep now a distant memory in the face of the panic and anxiety plaguing her. How was she supposed to fight off a group and keep them both safe?

She couldn’t. That was the reality of the situation.

The thought hit her over and over again like a blow to the chest, the knife turning between her fingers. _________________________________________ Morning came and she could see Ellie’s disappointment that the medicine hadn’t instantly woken Joel up and made him all better. To ease her mind, they gave him another dose, trying to make the bottles last before shoving the remainder in their bags. They were out of food, the rabbit she had caught two days ago long gone without a way to store it. Joel still wasn’t eating or drinking and she worried that even if they got the infection under control, his body wouldn’t be strong enough to get better. Things were bad. The possibility of Joel dying was a constant chime in her head. It felt like a mockery that he had left and came back only to be almost taken from them permanently. She was angry. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that took the hit. It had been meant for her but he’d pushed her out the way as the bat swung, breaking on the tree, and then tackled the guy. If it had been her, Joel would know what to do. He could take care of them both or at least would have the strength to leave her behind if necessary. She wasn’t sure she could. She was failing him. Failing them both. The basement was suffocating, pressing in on her, and she took the opportunity to go tend to the horses, leaving the girl and her unconscious companion to the pressing weight of disappointment. Her body was beginning to ache from the lack of sleep and food, joints protesting her movement, but she reached down and scooped snow into the small metal bucket for them to get some water. Soon the horses would starve too or be too weak to carry them. Death was creeping up on them. Looking over the neighborhood they were held up in, she sighed at the obvious foot steps leading up through the streets before beginning to methodically cover what she could. Ellie knew better than to leave a trail but she guessed in her hurry to get the medicine back to Joel and get away from the men she had forgotten. And as birds took off in a rush further down the road towards the wooded outskirts, she froze and her heart thundered in her ears. 

She felt fear run through her as her thoughts from the night resurfaced and became reality, a living nightmare. They were coming. They had waited for daylight to search them out and were coming now. She knew it, could feel it, and they were out of time. Quickly covering what she could and making false tracks from the other houses, she ran back inside and flew down the stairs to the basement taking two at a time. No time, there was no time.  Ellie startled at her rushed appearance and the way she flew across the room to the rifle and her own pack, “What’s happening?”

“Those men you saw are coming,” she huffed out, grabbing the rifle and checking it was loaded before looking around the room as if she could find the answer there.

Turning to Joel, Ellie began to shake his shoulders as if he were merely sleeping and not borderline in a coma, “Fuck. Joel! You have to wake up, Joel. Joel, wake up! Wake the fuck up, Joel!” But he only gasped, pained whimpers leaving his lips, eyelids fluttering.

She bent down and grabbed Ellie by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes, “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. I need you to take the horse and run.”

“What? No, what about-”

“You run and I’ll follow behind and try to pick them off,” she interrupted, voice adamant, “They’re going to search every house and they will find us eventually. I can’t hold them off like this. I need to know you’re good first and if we’re away from here then it will take the focus off Joel.”

“You want me to go without you?” Ellie’s eyes were wide with fear and her heart ached at the sight, but there was no time.

“I’ll find you,” she promised and dug her fingers tightly into her shoulders as if she could sink the words into her skin, “I will. But you have to go now. We’ll block the entrance to down here, give Joel some time.”

Ellie pressed her lips together and nodded, running to grab her backpack and last minute grabbed one of the larger knives they had. Running back over to Joel, the teen knelt down and placed it on his chest, forcing his hand to grab it. She let her while grabbing the rest of her stuff and placed Joel’s pack into a small cubby under the steps to make it less noticeable.

“Okay, look at me,” Ellie whispered to him while he only groaned in reply, “There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, Red is going to help get rid of them. But if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?”

“Ellie, hurry,” she bit out, peeking out the small window along the top of the wall. “Joel, do not fall asleep,” the teenager pleaded desperately, squeezing his hand around the knife. She could see his eyes partially open, see his lips trying to move and his fingers twitching trying to grasp the knife. But Ellie finally got up quickly and rushed up the stairs. She went to follow after her and paused, staring back at the unconscious man on the floor. A part of her whispered that this could be the last time she saw him alive. One or both of them could be dead if this didn’t go right. Heart in her throat, she ran back to him and kneeled, kissing his forehead and grasping his hand. “Stay alive for us, please, Joel,” she whispered, squeezing the hand around the knife, but getting back up and running up the stairs. She tried not to look back. Both of them moved the tall kitchen cabinet over the door entryway to the basement, trying to shuffle things around to not make the spot obvious before heading to the garage. They got both horses out, grabbing what she needed from hers and sending silent apologies to Tommy before forcing it to gallop away in the opposite direction with a sharp smack. The other she saved for Ellie to ride, closing the garage door behind them. They’d figure out transportation later when they were out of this mess, but they needed the guys off their trail and two different horse tracks would help. With quick hands, she helped Ellie climb up onto its back. 

Shakily, she bit out, “You ride hard and fast and loud. They’re going to come after you but if you go fast they won’t catch you and I’ll hit them from behind. They only know for sure about you right now. Do not look back, Ellie. I’ll find you once it’s safe, I promise.” Ellie was shaking but tried to put on a brave face, nodding and holding onto the reins. She wanted to hug the girl, tell her it was going to be okay, but she wouldn’t lie to her. Not now. The men were close, she knew that. She patted the rear of the horse and nodded a final goodbye, beckoning her to go forward. Her heart screamed to not let her go, that it was safer with her than alone, but they were backed into a corner and she had no choice. They wouldn’t win in a shootout and losing meant Ellie would die. So she watched as the girl rode away down the street away from her, turning until she was completely out of sight, and tried not to flinch at the gunshots that came soon after and the yells of men. She tried to shut off the part of her that wanted to panic, to react and worry. That wasn’t the part she needed to listen to at the moment. Running as far as she could, crossing over fences and staying against the walls of the house, she followed the sound of loud hoof beats and chased after them as they chased after Ellie. Her ears caught on one of them screaming that she was to be left alive, but that didn’t ease the worry in her. Being captured alive wasn’t always a good thing. One of the slower men chasing Ellie fell the furthest behind, wheezing in the cold and trying to clamber in the dense snow. Her own knife in hand, she ran and jumped onto his back, using both their weight to send them forward onto his front behind the cover of some of the shrubs. 

He hadn’t been expecting to be attacked from behind and it took him a moment to try and struggle, to lift his face out of the snow to breathe, and she took advantage of that by stabbing deep into the back of his neck. He groaned, the sound muffled, and she pulled the blade out and sunk it in again and again with a growl. The snow was staining red around them. He stopped moving. One down. She stood and took off, the cold biting into her lungs and stealing her breath. The terrain was hard and the one kill had put her farther behind the group, forcing her to cut across more backyards to catch up, but she could only hope Ellie had done what she asked and was out of range. She could catch the rest of them once they scattered. But then a gunshot rang out close by. The sound of a horse’s cry ripped through her, tore her soul to shreds, and she knew if she lived beyond the day she would hear that sound forever in her nightmares.

She ran. She left all care of stealth behind and ran fast and hard, dodging trees and fallen branches and then ran faster when another gun shot rang out. The chest felt like it was being cleaved open by the panic, fear gripping her tightly. They wouldn’t have shot her. They wouldn’t have killed her. She was a kid, they wouldn’t-

And then she watched from the trees as the group surrounded Ellie who was on the ground, her horse unmoving not far away, and a tall skinny man picked her up and began to walk away with her. She raised the rifle, looking down the scope, and cursed as the men separated and began to head back into the neighborhood. No doubt to continue their search for Joel and her.

She could see Ellie’s face through the scope, the loll of her head, but she was gripped too closely to the man’s body. He was walking further and further away. Two sides of her screamed. Leaving to go after them meant abandoning Joel, but staying behind meant leaving Ellie. She wanted to press the trigger, shoot, but knew it was too risky with Ellie in the man’s arms. She could so easily accidentally kill the girl if she was one inch off and her hands were too shaky from exhaustion to be precise. Only some of the group was going back, the others looking like they were continuing to scout the area.

She knew what she had to do, what Joel would tell her to do, but the reality of it felt impossible. If they found Joel, he’d die for sure. But she wasn’t sure she could live with leaving Ellie.

The men with the girl were getting farther away and a choice had to be made.

So she swallowed the sob in her throat and let the rage she felt consume her completely, push her forward, and followed behind the group to where they would take her kid.  __________________________ It was getting harder and harder to follow along as the wind began to kick up a notch. She needed to see where they were taking Ellie, but she was tired and the cold was sinking in, her body struggling to keep going. And as they entered the town, it was getting difficult to avoid being seen. Too many buildings, too many open areas, and she didn’t know who could be watching. She knew they had entered one of the nearby buildings, but wasn’t sure which. The clock was ticking in her mind, Ellie’s life on one hand and Joel’s on the other. What good was she if she couldn’t save her people? Blood crusted on her fingers as she entered the first of the buildings quietly, finding a back entrance. It was dark but she could hear voices nearby as she found herself in some kind of storage room, the cold still reaching her through the walls. She wasn’t used to carrying the rifle. It had always been Joel’s weapon thanks to its weight, her preferring knives or a small pistol or even a bow when she could find one. So when she crouched down to ease her way over to the swinging door leading further inside, she winced when it thudded and scraped against the floor, the sound so loud in her ears. The voices paused and she froze, eyes wide and watching the door. There was shuffling and she quickly backed away into a darkened corner, pulling her knife out. Steps came closer and she held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The door swung open and she could see a man enter, beard a little rough and looking a little ragged, cheeks red from the cold. He frowned, looking around, gaze shifting over what he could. He turned to look at the back door, back facing her, and only then did she realize she had tracked snow inside and it hadn’t quite melted. Lunging, she stuck the blade deep into his lower back with all her might and threw her arm around his neck, choking him hard. A cry of pain tried to leave his lips, breath cut off, and he struggled wildly. She twisted the knife, feeling blood coat her hand. “Where is the girl?” she hissed, jerking the blade deeper. He sobbed and made pathetic mewling sounds of pain, voice wispy from lack of air, “Please, I don’t know-” She twisted, hearing the squelch of flesh tearing, “The teenage girl your buddy grabbed, where is she?” The distinct smell of piss lingered in the air and he sobbed out, “I don’t know! Oh god.” Steps were coming close again and she growled, keeping her grip on the knife buried in his body and shifting her arm away from his neck to hold the back of his collar. He wheezed in air, blood starting to bubble from his lips. The door burst open and the distinct sound of a gun rising echoed in the tiny room, only to pause as she held the man in front of her like a shield, mostly hidden by his body. “Howard-” A woman’s voice. All the people who had attacked them had been men. 

She wouldn’t have the information she needed. With a growl of frustration, she shoved the body at her, letting his dead weight hit her and trap the woman against the wall. She let out a startled cry and the delay gave her just enough time to unholster her pistol and shoot her in the head. The numbness that was a twin to her rage had sunk into her skin, blanketing her all over. She’d search the buildings, one by one, and kill whoever she had to to find her kid. She didn’t care. Stepping over the bodies, she moved into the area they had been in before she drew their attention and paused, icy horror filling her. A leg was in the process of being cut apart, small chunks set aside and being wrapped up as if to store for later. It was a kitchen, most likely used to prepare food for stage, large makeshift smokers and pits along the back unused. The ticking clock in her mind sped up as the reality of what she’d uncovered hit her. Cannibals. These people that had taken Ellie were cannibals. A strong hit to her back sent her stumbling forward and clattering to her knees. She grunted and scrambled forward as a stomp missed her, hitting the ground instead. There’d been someone still in the room and she’d been too distracted to notice. 

Rolling onto her back, gun still in her hand, she aimed and managed to shoot the knee out of her assailant as he raised a butcher knife. He crumpled to the ground with a cry and she got to her feet slowly, gun raised and trained on him. 

The guy was younger, but thin and haggard looking. His bravado hadn’t fully left him though as he stared her down, anger in his eyes, “You fucking bitch. You blew out my fucking knee.” He tried to get up but she aimed at his head, making him freeze. “I’ll shoot the other one too if you don’t shut up and tell me where the girl you kidnapped is,” she snarled, adrenaline helping to keep the firearm steady on him. His nose wrinkled and he spit at her, brow furrowed.

Stubborn. Younger guys were so stubborn.

She pulled the trigger and watched his other knee explode as the bullet met his target. The man screamed and she quickly knelt down, shoving her hand over his mouth and placing the still warm barrel against his forehead. Tears leaked out his eyes, making little dirt tracks through the grime on his skin.

“Where the fuck is she?” she screamed into his face and the sound was almost inhuman, gravel and fury warping it almost into a howl.

But he only shook his head, eyes defiant. Frustrated, she stood, looking at the meat cleaver in his hand and the human leg on the table. She didn’t have time for this. Ellie was out there and the situation was worse than she thought. Not even meeting his eyes, she raised the gun and shot him in the head. He wasn’t going to give her any information.

She raced back outside through the back door she had entered, heart in her throat and a panicked scream wanting to leave her lips.

The storm was picking up as an idea hit her. If she searched each building, there was no guarantee she’d find someone with information in time. She had to draw their attention. Maybe lure them out. They had wanted Ellie alive for the moment. If she could distract them, it may buy her time.

Chewing her lip, she kneeled behind the building and swung her pack around to dig through it. Her hand wrapped around a small glass bottle that had been carefully secured in the middle of her clothes and yanked it out along with one of her old shirts. They’d been saving it for emergencies, using it to sterilize what they could, but she needed it for something else now. Her face stung from the cold wind and her hands shook, but she managed to tear cloth and shove it into the liquor bottle, saturating the fabric, before she put her pack back on and stood.

Time to make a big fucking distraction.

Blocking the wind with her hands, she lit a match and watched as the tip of the cloth burned bright with flames.

With a snarl, she tossed the molotov through the window of the next building, ducking down and watching as the flames exploded inside. Screams and shouts followed, telling her there had been people inside, and she waited for more voices to join them. Someone would investigate or come outside.

Like clockwork, a man rushed out into the cold and she gripped her bloody knife at the familiar face. One of the men that had come back with Ellie. He cursed and ran through the snow, yelling that he was going to grab the fire extinguisher next door while the others scrambled to put the flames out. She followed, quiet, lava flowing through her and teeth bared. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. 

The wind blocked any sound she made as she rushed after him into the alley and lunged, shoving him into the cold brick wall with a loud crack. She growled and grabbed his hair, gripping it tightly and smashing it into the bricks once then twice. He tried to push away and turn, but she kneed him hard in the spine, driving him to his knees. “Where is the girl?” she snarled into his ear, knife to his throat. Blood poured down an open wound on his forehead, one eye blinded by red, as he finally took in who had grabbed him, “fuck you,” “Wrong answer,” she yanked his hair and slammed it into the wall again. When he went to raise his hand to fight her, she stabbed the blade through his hand and into the ground. His screams were carried away by the wind and snow, the shouts of his group telling her they were still distracted by the fire. “The girl your group grabbed,” the words were all razors and broken glass, almost the sound of an animal snarl, “Where did you take her?” He sneered at her, trying to put on a strong front through the pain, “That bitch is probably soup by now.” She stepped on the knife, the blade so far in his hand the hilt was pressing against the back, “I can make this last a fucking lifetime. Your choice. Where-” “Please, don’t-” Frustrated, she ripped the knife out and placed the tip just inside his mouth, “Last chance. Where is she?” The tip clinked against his teeth and he hung his mouth open to avoid being cut, his beard a mess of blood and spit and green eyes wide with fear finally. She tried not to feel satisfaction as seeing that, understanding setting in for him. He lifted his bloody hand and tried to point across the street, stuttering out, “Steakhouse. The fucking steakhouse. David has her in there.” She looked at him, eye swollen, and blood coating the front of his face, clearly terrified.

Slowly, she took the blade away, watching his lips wobble with sobs and slight relief. Then she slit his throat, continuing to move behind the buildings even as his blood sprayed out and soaked her clothes and his pleas gurgled and quieted.

The steakhouse was a few more buildings down across the street, “Todd’s Steakhouse” still written on the sign out front. The storm was a blizzard now, sharp stinging snow hitting her skin and turning the blood on her into patches of ice. There were yells, panicked screams, and she wondered if they had found the bodies. If they had found the blood and chaos she had left in her wake.

But with a destination in sight, she had let her guard down and she cursed herself later on for it. Arms wrapped around her torso, crushing the rifle into her back, and she kicked at the air as she was dragged back against a brick wall.

“You fucking bitch!” Screamed into her ear and she was tossed to the ground, teeth clattering from the impact.

A kick landed in her stomach and she grunted, the air leaving her lungs, but she had enough sense to grab onto the leg and cling to it. The move caught the man off balance and he tripped, falling to the ground next to her. Her blade was somewhere in the snow and she struggled to dig around for it, sharp steel nicking her fingers as she found it only to be thrown onto her back.

The man climbed on top of her, straddling her waist, his weight so heavy and her pack on her back making the move crushing. She grit her teeth and bucked, thrashing to try and get him off of her. But he only grinned, pulling back and decking her in the face. Stars lit up behind her eyes, a high pitch ringing all she could hear as pain exploded through her head.

He pulled back to punch again and her fingers found the cold metal in the snow. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the sharp steel cut into her palm as she grabbed it by the blade instead of the hilt, and stabbed it into his lower throat. She didn’t stop, only switching to pull it out by its handle this time, and stabbed again and again, blood reigning down onto her.

With a howl, she shoved him off of her and sent a final stab into his face, snow soaking into her and pain a radiating heat. Everything hurt and it was an effort to get up and roll onto her side, staring at the decimated body next to her. 

She spit blood on him and stood. There was smoke coming from all around her, the fire having caught from the molotov and moving on building to building. Across the way, smoke could be seen from the steakhouse and she swallowed her pain, letting adrenaline carry her to the front doors. Her hands shook as she tried the handles, pulling again and again but they stayed locked and shut. Growling, she threw her shoulder into it. She was so close. She had found the place and was so close and a locked fucking door was all that was keeping her away. Her breathing was quick and frantic as she looked over the front and tried to reason that there had to be a back door or an employee entrance. Her hands skimmed the wall to try and keep upright, knowing soon the exhaustion and pain would take over, but she tried to push it back. Ellie had to be close. She needed to keep going a little bit further and then she’d get her kid and they’d go get Joel. 

Her steps stumbled and she pushed off the wall, screaming at herself to stay steady. There, she could see the back door. Plain and wooden, easy enough to shoot the lock off and get inside. With shaky fingers, she unhooked the rifle from her shoulder, the weight of it almost unbearable, and took two shots to get the lock blown off. Her legs were shaky as she climbed the few steps and opened the door, smoke pouring out. She coughed and tried to wave it away, stepping inside and feeling the heat. She had taken only a few steps into the building and stopped, hearing a familiar voice. “Red?” Relief flooded her, eyes instantly filling with tears, as Ellie emerged from the smoke not too far in front of her. Ellie was there, hair a mess and half tumbling out of her ponytail, blood splattered and smeared all over her face and clothes. It took her a while to realize she was standing there, actually standing there, watching as the girl stumbled forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. 

Smoke and fire was all around them, but she couldn’t care because she had Ellie and they were both alive and safe now. With shaky hands, she managed to direct them back out of the building and into the cold, fresh air. Her promise rang in her ears and she whispered them out loud as she clung to the girl, “I found you. I found you. I’ll always find you.” And she had, but not quick enough. She knew that something awful had happened, that Ellie was now one step closer to being what her and Joel were. The tough exterior had crumbled away and all that was left was a shocked girl who’d had a piece of her soul cleaved away. Her nose was busted and she knew that look in her eyes, the horror and pain at doing something ugly but necessary. Ellie’s lips were shaking as she looked her over and she was so focused on the girl she almost didn’t see Joel coming around the corner. Joel, standing and whole and alive, coming towards them like Ellie was a gravity well pulling both of them towards her. His eyes met hers and the relief was bright, even if she was dripping in blood. But Ellie hadn’t noticed the shift in attention, hadn’t heard his steps, and when he went to grab her she bucked and thrashed in his arms in sheer desperation. So much like her, a wild animal fighting not to be caged. Her heart tore apart, shredded to pieces, at the painful screams then broken sobs as she realized who was holding on to her. 

Joel only kept whispering, “It’s me, it’s me, I’m here.” “He- I-” she stuttered, eyes glazed and searching both of theirs. Joel held on with all his might, trying to ease her, gentle words soothing. And the girl crumbled, falling into his arms and clinging to him tightly as much as he was clinging to her. His eyes met hers and she let the exhaustion hit her and carry her towards them, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around them both. All three of them, blood soaked, finally home with each other.

______________ Feral Reader Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x oc #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou #the last of us #feral reader #series: feral #raicodoll writes

[t0bey]

more comms from twitter 🕺

#identity v #idv #andrew kreiss #william ellis #luchino diruse #idv oc #my art

[doctorsiren]

they were in love your honour

#doctorsiren #ace attorney #gregory edgeworth #eleanor edgeworth #ace attorney fanart #ace attorney oc #art #digital art #my art #fanart #procreate #the drawing on the left is a LITTLE goofy lookin but #I like parts of it too much to scrap it #I really enjoy the sketch on the right tho #guys also I’ve decided her maiden name was Vayderbilt #b…because…because then…she…she could called #Ella Vayderbilt #…elevator…. #he calls her Ellie tho so #THEY’RE LITERALLY JUST MY NICK AND JEN LIKE WHAT IS THIS HAHAHHAAH

[zepandovski]

Some doodle requests from twitter and Instagram!! ✨

#sonic #my art #sonic the hedgehog #sth #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #amy rose #metal sonic #metamy #tails prower #miles tails prower #cream the rabbit #tails the fox #rouge the bat #jet the hawk #ellie #ellie art #fursona art #my ocs #oc art #rivulet #rain world rivulet #rain world downpour #ho boy that was a lot of tags KWNDLWMDL

[live-laugh-loverpool]

One Night In Manchester

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234

Summary: Taffarel and baby Ellie share a tender moment. Fluff, fluff and more fluff (and more fluff)

“Jurgen, you can’t stay up all night,” Claudio Taffarel pointed out as Jurgen Klopp yawned for the fifth time. “We have a match tomorrow.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” the German protested. He picked up the last ice cube from the once-full tray and dropped it down his back, which shuddered him into an icy awakening. “And then there’s the boys.”

Taffarel didn’t get it. “They never cause trouble in the night.”

“It’s not that.” Klopp yawned, pinching himself to stay awake. “We’re in Manchester, Claudio, you never know what could happen. What if they set off fireworks, and the boys wake up? What if the United players come in, screaming like a banshee and--”

Taffarel rolled his eyes. Klopp always tended to overthink and overwork when it came to games vs. Manchester United. Even after beating them 5-0 at their home the previous season, the German was still nervous about the upcoming match.

“Jurgen, go to sleep,” the Brazilian tried again. “I can take care of things here.”

“But you need sleep, too,” Klopp argued.

“Yes, and I was sleeping while you did your shift. So it’s time for my shift, Kumpel.”

“Claudio, are you sure you can handle it?” Klopp yawned, head already on his desk. “There’s not only the boys. The kids are here too, and the medics have had a long day rehabilitating everyone--”

“I’ve got it, Jurgen, I’m two years older than you are! I can manage.”

“True, Claudio…so true…”

Taffarel stifled a chuckle as the German drifted off to sleep, a gray mound in the light of the yellow desk lamp. Taffarel flipped the switch off, leaving Klopp in the office, and proceeded down the hotel hallway.

Taffarel tiptoed by each of the rooms with a flashlight in his hand, cracking their doors open ever so slightly to peek inside. So far, everybody on the left side of the hall was sleeping peacefully.

He proceeded to insepct the line of rooms on the right, careful to check that the lights were off in the medic’s rooms before he went in. Kerry was knocked out on her bed, her ginger locks splayed on her pillow and clashing with her dark teal pajamas. The Australian medic’s only child, Tristan, was in her arms. The baby boy could get very clingy and fussy during the nights if he was alone, but fortunately he was also asleep, snuggled into his mother.

Vera and Kanchana were sleeping as well, sharing a bed. They weren’t sharing the comforter, though--Vera was bundled up in the puffy, white covers, while Kanchana, dressed in an orange silk nightgown, seemed perfectly fine without any covers, under the AC vent.

Chelsea and Robert were both asleep, huddled under their own comforter. Chelsea’s dark hair was wrapped up in a bun, while Robert’s brunette locks were a complete mess.

Taffarel checked room after room, pleased with what he was seeing. Finally, he came into the room between the medic’s room--the room which was being used as a temporary nursery for the kids.

Florrie and Kairo were sleeping, cuddled up in a bed with chairs surrounding them so they wouldn’t fall off. Grace and Henrietta, the one-year-olds, were placed between their older cousins, and both of them were snoozing peacefully. The only one not in a bed with them was baby Ellie--and Taffarel’s eyes widened when he heard faint mewls from the bassinet against the right wall.

“Hey, Ellie, what’s wrong, docinha?” he whispered, peering over the bassinet. Ellie was wide awake, eyes shining in the glow of the nightlight in the room. She whimpered again, tiny hands grabbing thin air.

Taffarel picked the three-month-old up, trying to see what was wrong. She had been fed not long ago--he had heard Chelsea padding down the halls in her slippers-- and she was clean and warm in her fleece sleeper. So what could be wrong with her?

“Are you sick?” Taffarel murmured as he sat in a nearby glider. He felt her forehead--not hot at all-- and deciding that Ellie wasn’t sick, he set her back down in the bassinet. But as soon as she figured out that Taffarel was putting her back down, Ellie’s gurgles turned to high-pitched whimpers of protest.

“Ah!” Taffarel finally got it, taking Ellie out of the bassinet again and settling down in the glider. “You’re just lonely. And I get it, your sisters and cousins are all with somebody.”

Ellie cooed in delight, and Taffarel took it as a yes. He decided he would ask Chelsea and Robert about having Ellie sleep with them during the nights--the baby seemed to get lonely, just like her slightly older cousin.

Taffarel stroked Ellie’s head, brushing aside small wisps of soft hair. They were dark, just like her mother’s. Really, everything about Ellie was like her mother so far, except her skin tone and eyes, which were a mix of both of her parents.

Little as she was, Ellie already had hints of her own distinct personality--easygoing like Chelsea, and she seemed to have the same temperature preferences like Robert, who was always colder than his wife. She didn’t seem to share Chelsea’s sarcasm or her father’s tendency to underestimate things, but Ellie was still a three-month-old baby. She had her own personality, place in the world and future waiting for her--but for now she laid contently in Taffarel’s arms, cocooned in the love and protection of the people around her.

No, not the people around her. Her family.

Her mother, her father, and her two adopted sisters. The other kids, her cousins. The other staff and the thirty-something players, who were her aunties and uncles (and older brothers, in the case of the academy players). The coaching staff, some of whom were old enough to be her grandparents.

That would include himself. Ironic, yes, but true.

A small whine of protest sounded through the air, and Taffarel realized that while he’d been thinking, he’d stopped cradling Ellie. Quickly, he started back up again, humming a tune in an attempt to cut the silence. He’d only heard it once while watching the Oscars with the rest of the coaching staff, but the Brazilian remembered it perfectly. 

“Dos oruguitas enamoradas, pasan sus noches y madrugadas, llenas de hambre, siguen andando…”

Ellie stopped fussing, gazing at Taffarel with wide, innocent eyes.

“Y navegando un mundo, que cambia y sigue cambiando. Navegando un mundo, que cambia y sigue cambiando.” Taffarel realized that Ellie seemed interested, and continued singing, rocking back and forth on the glider.

“Dos oruguitas paran el viento, mientras se abrazan con sentimiento. Siguen creciendo, no saben cuándo, buscar algún rincón, el tiempo sigue cambiando, inseparables son, el tiempo sigue cambiando.”

A pang shot through his chest, and Taffarel groaned as he remembered why he’d only heard the song once. “Dos Oruguitas” was an emotional ballad, a deeply emotional one at that, and Taffarel felt it fully. He had barely managed to sit through the whole thing without losing his composure, and in the end he’d had to claim that there was sand in his eyes.

“Ay oruguitas, no se aguanten más, hay que crecer aparte y volver, hacia adelante seguiras, vienen milagros, vienen crisalidas, hay que partir y construir su propio futuro.”

As he sang, letting the swaying of the glider ease him into a more reflective state of mind, Taffarel couldn’t help but think back to the night when they’d lost the Champion’s League finals. It was his first UCL finals with Liverpool, and he had been hoping that it would go well. But it wasn’t meant to be, and it only made things worse when Klopp had reported the state of the locker room. The coaching staff had bunked together in Klopp and Lijnders’ room, and sleep hadn’t mattered as much as getting through the night. They had all been disoriented, each in his own (figurative) cocoon as they just went through the motions.

“Dos oruguitas desorientadas, en dos capullos bien abrigadas, con sueños nuevos, ya solo falta hacer lo necesario, en el mundo que sigue cambiando.” He held Ellie closer, feeling the soft puffs of her breath on his shirt. Ellie wasn’t even remotely related to him, but just like all the other kids, he liked her. There was this overwhelming sense inside of him to protect her, shield her from all the dangers of the world. “Tumbando sus paredes, ahí viene nuestro milagro, nuestro milagro, nuestro milagro, nuestro milagro…”

Sharply, he inhaled as something small and warm curled around his finger. At first Taffarel was afraid that it was a fat, New York City rat--the granddaddy of all rats. But he eventually realized that it was Ellie’s chubby baby fist. The infant had grasped Taffarel’s finger, eyes half-closed in impending slumber. An angelic disposition inscribed on her young face, Taffarel couldn’t help but hold Ellie even closer, a warm, radiant feeling spilling out of his soul.

“Ay mariposas, no se aguanten más, hay que crecer aparte y volver, hacia adelante seguirás, ya son milagros, rompiendo crisálidas, hay que volar, hay que encontrar, su propio futuro.”

*

Klopp woke up the next morning, refreshed from his longer-than-usual sleep. Upon realizing that it was eight o’clock already and that he’d slept in, he jumped from his desk, just pausing long enough to grab his hat.

All the other rooms were empty, so Klopp didn’t expect to find anybody in the makeshift nursery. Upon opening the door, though, the German found something he couldn’t help but smile at, leaning against the doorway to watch.

Taffarel, flashlight long neglected and still turned on, held Ellie close to his chest. Both of them were fast asleep.

#claudio taffarel #ellie oc #florrie oc #kairo oc #grace oc #henrietta oc #chelsea o'hara oc #robert o'hara oc #vera torres oc #kanchana nguyen oc #kerry anderson oc #tristian oc #jurgen klopp #liverpool fc #lfc #liverpool players #liverpool #soccer fanfiction by lynn #soccer fanfiction #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic

[satoshy12]

Mix of DP and DC ideas

So a mix between "Ghost King Danny", "Papa Danny", "Danny son of Bruce Wayne and "Catwoman" " and "Cult sacrifice children to the Ghost King".

So over the years that Danny was King, few cults sacrificed children to him but finally stopped after he destroyed them himself. As for the children who had no other place to go, Danny just adopted them all. And already had around 4 children, 5 with Dani.

Emma, Mia, Ethan, Noah, and Lily—Danny was pretty protective of them all. And made sure they had a good childhood and a good time, with at least a few Ghost Guardians with them.

Pariah's soldiers, the skeletons, were not very smart or strong, but they were really loyal, and he could trust them to get the job done.

Time skip

It was Dani's first job.

It is an internship at Wayne Enterprises, and many people looked at Dani, thinking she was a new Wayne adopted child.

Tim thought the same, as she looked like the Martha Wayne picture he saw. So he did a DNA test that came back positive that they were related, but she wasn't Bruce's child.

Then he met her Father, Daniel Fenton, and her adopted siblings. He truly was like Bruce, adopting children after children. He read about Dr. Danny Fenton who was also a pretty influential person who worked for NASA.

But for Tim, meeting Danny face-to-face was like meeting Ra's al Ghul again for the first time. He has no idea why, but he was nothing like Bruce.

But you could see Danny loving his children; Bruce would be happy about the many grandchildren; Tim could see it already.

A/N For Adult Danny Body, just google Sung Jin-woo that kind of body and muscle

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp #dc #dcau #dc comics #batman #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp + dc #Danielle Fenton #Ellie Fenton #Papa Danny #OC children #Cult of Phantom #Bruce Wayne #Cult of Death #Gotham #skeletons #NASA Danny #Older Danny #Ghost King Danny #wayne enterprises #Dr. Danny

[euphternal]

streamer!paige bueckers headcanon 👾

notes: idk what to say, this is more than likely a crack headcanon LMFAOOOOO

╭・🎮・𓂃❨˖₊⊹

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: what a sassy mother fucker... non stop SCREAMMINNGGG. she's always losing her goddamn voice at the end of her streams.

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: but she can be EXTREMELY awkward and suddenly crack headed like and said the most weirdest shit LMFAOOOO

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: MOUNTAINS of cans of coke (not the drug LMFAOOOO) are literally SCATTERED everywhere on her setup, the DIRTIEST mf 😭

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: always inviting herself into random ass teams on fornite and just causing so much chaos…

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: there's so many clips all over social media of funny moments on her streams, she was playing with you on minecraft (she was probably streaming for 12 hours and she's clearly forgotten about now), you both been making a little village together 🥹

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: you two were gonna go out to sea to gain more materials and you thought paige got into the back of her boat but actually it was a creeper that exploded the boat and destroyed everything around you and obvs killed you…

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: you was so oblivious that you had no idea what was going one. paige knew the whole time, she just kept quiet LMFAO

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: this made paige absolutely piss herself laughing for a good two hours, that clip was spreading like wild fires.

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she loved playing minecraft, roblox, fornite lego or gta5 with you because she knew how funny the next 8 hours will be with you, espically on gta5😭😭

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she has a yet channel with VODS and many funny moments 😭 all over 2M views on all of the videos

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she’s always showing off her arms, being masc as HELLLLL 😭 she’s such a sarcastic twat in ANY SITUATION

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: omg tlou x paige crossover… she’s never getting over joels death. but once she see abby… ITS GAME OVERRRTR

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: twirling her hair, curling her toes, kicking her feet when she sees abby or ellie (but especially ellie😋)

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: HATES mel, just bc LMFAO

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: always making fun of owen LMFAO

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she’s always goddamn screaming at dina when she’s playing tlou two… (WHY IS DINA ALWAYS GETTING IN MY GODAMN WAY, sorry but she’s USELESS 😭😭😔)

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she’s definitely fell asleep on stream before, but luckily u were there to keep the girlys entertained.

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: she’s so memeable on streams😭

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: OMG,, SHES SUCH A VINE QUOTER LMFAOOOO

𓂃❨˖₊⊹ :: the girlys only love her streams when ur in them… the chat is always controlling her LMFAOOO

anyone want a part two??

#ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou x reader #tlou #ellie tlou #paige bueckers head cannons #paige bueckers headcannons #paige buckets #paige x reader #paige bueckers headcannon #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn vs iowa #uconn mbb #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #connecticut huskies

[kasieli]

I have absolutely zero business imagining Yule Ball designs since I’m not even remotely close to writing that chapter (which I would like to but we’re not even two chapters in) but also I have zero self control so here have them anyways.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow x mc #fanart #they’re wearing Ravenclaw colours bc my OC is Ravenclaw thank u and goodnight #although I do have a version that’s green and seb’s suit def looks nicer green but I want them to match #bc that’s usually what formal attire is right #seb’s suit is gothic-esque bc late 1800s is still gothic era and I love the gothic era #also can we appreciate his cute lil slicked back hair #I had some Victorian/gothic inspo for Elly’s dress but it turned out more modern but that’s ok #can we also appreciate Poppy’s gown I drew it on a whim but it’s so cute? #god I am so weak for prom/formal event tropes #sebastian x mc