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obsessedwrhys · 2 months

Text

THE PAIN OF PRETENDING

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Where your relationship with Abby is hidden because of your religious parents. Heartbreaking angst, some fluff, mention of intimacy but no doing it, religious things (reader's religion is not specified dw), homophobia, reader has religious trauma (only real ones know 😔), this could be triggering for some, reader has mommy issues/ is a mommy's girl, reader will go through character growth (whoop whoop!!). reader is fem!!!

ᯓ★

How you found yourself curled up on the sofa was perpetual. Same frown, same feeling. It just seems like the cycle never ends. You wonder how many more days can you tolerate this pattern of lifestyle.

This lifestyle of living in fear.

Soon you snap out of your worries once you hear the door open. The person you've been waiting for finally coming in.

"Hey babe" Your girlfriend, Abby flashes you a sweet smile. You don't say anything but watch as she puts away her bag, then taking off the rest of her equipments and placing it on the table.

"How did it go with your parents?" She asks. The very topic you were hoping she would have forgotten about after a day of patrol.

"... oh... you know..." You chuckle anxiously but almost instantly she knew something was off by your tone. She's dated you long enough to know when you're tensed.

She approaches you and every step she took was making you even more nervous. Once she was close enough, she kneels down in front of you with her hand placed gently on your lap. Her palm grasping your thigh.

"You did talk to them right? About us?" She asks, the way she's talking so softly to you was making the guilt swallowing you whole.

Because of that, you chose to stay quiet.

Seeing your lack of an answer, she sighs with her other hand pinching the bridge of her nose. Almost like an attempt to convince herself to be patient with you.

"Did you or did you not?" She looks up at you and your hands couldn't help but scratch at each other due to the nerves getting to you.

"... I didn't..." You finally said. She looks at you, a mix of disappointment and empathy on her face.

Maybe if this was the first time she'd forgive you.

But it's been a year that you've been trying to come out to your parents.

It's like everytime you gain the courage to confront them about it. Their faces always made you feel so small.

"You promised me you would (Y/N)..." She said and you could tell from her reaction that she was also getting tired of this.

Tired of having to pretend.

Pretending like she doesn't wanna kiss you in public.

To hold you.

To show everyone that you're hers and she's yours.

Yet she can only be known as your friend.

"I know... but they were just so happy about reaching the goal of the fundraiser and I didn't want to ruin that moment for them"

"What about you? Do you not want to be happy??"

"That's different"

"How is that different? Are you happy constantly having to deal with your parents setting you up with guys you don't even like? Or do you actually like that shit??"

"Of course not!!"

"Then just tell them!"

"It's not that fucking easy Abby! They have people that look up to their teachings. Do you have any idea the amount of damage I could do to their lifetime of work?"

"We live in a world with flesh eating zombies. I'm sure they'll survive having their reputation tainted for having a gay daughter" She gets up and you stare at her standing form. Somehow her perspective of the situation made you feel better.

You look down at your pendant, the one your parents had gifted you since you were a child. You still remember the very words they've swore to you, to always have your soul be on the right path in life.

"I'm sorry" You apologised and she turns to look at you. It pained her to see yourself looking like a wounded dog. She let's out a defeated sigh while she reaches to rub both your arms soothingly.

"Let's deal with this tomorrow... hm?" She then leaned in to nuzzle her face into the crook of your neck as she slowly pushes you down on the sofa.

You didn't notice you were smiling when Abby made herself comfortable on top of you. Her arms wrapped securely around your waist and you couldn't resist but run your fingers across her biceps. She hums at the delicacy of your touch.

"I'm so sorry..." You muttered.

"Tomorrow... please..." She lifts up her head and got inches closer to you until she's kissing you on the lips.

Just like that, the next day came. Since you had nothing to do that day, you decided to spend some time with Abby. Which is how you found yourself playing at the field inside the headquarters. You laughed as you took the frisbee from Alice's mouth before throwing it again. Abby was simply sitting on the grass a feet away, her face full of adoration as she watches you play.

Just seeing you smile was enough to brighten up her mood.

The feeling always felt so magical.

"Wowow— calm down girl" You chuckled when Alice nearly knocked you off balance when asking for more head pats. After giving her her deserved pats, you threw the frisbee and she ran after it without hesitation.

You watched her go with a smile on your face and soon your eyes trailed to where Abby is rested but you've already caught her staring first. You had to admit, you felt both embarrassed and cocky when you saw the way she was looking at you.

"Is my hair bad or something?" You asked but she simply tilt her head with a humoured smirk.

"Your hair can be a total mess and you'd still look like a model on the cover of a magazine" She said and her flattery made you snort.

"Liar"

"Oh? You want me to prove it to you?" She chuckles mischievously as she began approaching you and the sight of her coming after you made your first instincts to run.

"ATTACK HER ALICE!!" You ordered but Alice was too busy chewing on the toy to even care.

Damn dog.

"STOP IT ABBY!!"

"C'mere!"

Soon you found yourself cornered and you let out an annoyed whine while she couldn't help but laugh at your dismay. Once you were trapped, she stepped closer to shorten the distance between you two.

Eventually the pout on your face was gone the second she enveloped you in her arms, you chuckled uncontrollably at the touch of her lips smooching your collarbone slowly up to your jaw. You smiled when she gently grabbed you by the chin to have you face her.

"I don't think I say this enough but I love you. I mean it" She caresses your cheek and you didn't know how to respond but to kiss her.

It was a gentle kiss at first, tender and tentative, as if she was treating you like you were fragile glass. But soon the sweetness of the kiss transcended to something desperate. Her hand moving down to your waist to pull you closer than you were. Her forceful act made you yelp as your hands fell to the back of her neck.

"Fuck..." She sighs, her eyes half lidded from the heat of the moment.

"Are you sure she's out here?" What felt like a thunder struck. You immediately part away from Abby's grip when the sound of your mother's voice could be heard from afar.

"Yeah, I saw her leaving with Abs just now... Well, there she is" Nora stands with her hand on her hip as your mother's face lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh there's my sunshine!"

"Hey mom..." You greeted her back.

You were too focused on trying to act normal that you failed to realise the discomfort in Abby's eyes as she awkwardly rubs her neck, but she soon covers it up with a forced smile when your mother turned to greet her.

"And Abby! It's good to see you!"

"Haha... sure is auntie"

"Well I hope you don't mind if I steal my little sunshine from you. I need her to help me set up tonight's celebration. We managed to raise up enough resources to build our very own temple to worship. Oh! You should definitely come! Dinner will be delicious" Your mother said while waving at you to stand at her side... and you did just that. It was like she had this power over you.

You might as well be her puppet on a string.

"Sure, I don't really have anything to do" Abby responded but the smile on her face fades a bit when she turned to look at you.

Your brows were slightly narrowed as you had your head lowered. Just seconds ago you were both kissing and now she felt like a total stranger to you. But how could she blame you? You never wanted any of this.

"Oh you're such a sweet girl and a good friend to my daughter. If only you weren't so bulk you'd find yourself a fine man who'd take care of you" Your mother said and it took every muscle in Abby's body not to react to her words.

"Hm... yeah" Abby replied. Her jaw clenches as she grinds her teeth to try to ease the burn in her chest.

"Well let's go, we have a lot to prepare" Your mother shoos you and you shoot Abby an apologetic look before getting dragged away.

The moment you were gone, she let's out a sigh while running her hands across her face and then letting it rest there. Her eyes were completely shut in order to put her entire focus on not being upset at you or anyone.

"You cool?" Nora spoke up but Abby didn't bother looking at her.

"Uh-huh" Abby replied with her voice muffled from her hands covering her face.

It was soon the night of the celebration. Pretty much everyone was invited to it. You were dressed formally and forced to greet every guest. It just seems like to your parents that having a child also means having a servant. You were greeting people until someone caught your eye.

A wave of relief washed over you when you saw Abby approaching you and also being the last guest you'll have to say hi to for the night. She smiles when she sees your face finally easing up at the sight of her.

"Tired of playing the perfect daughter?" She jokes and you smack her playfully on the chest.

"Shut up.." You said and just as she's gonna wrap her hands around your waist. You stepped back, nodding at the crowd not far away.

It's not that anyone really cared if someone was gay.

It was more like if YOU were gay.

Because you can bet your ass that they'll come running to your parents to spread the hot gossip. It's like they have everyone as their pal and gals here.

"Right... can you show me where the food is? I'm starving" She said.

Cue to the both of you now in the kitchen where you're standing with your plate in hand. This might be the only time you get some privacy together.

"Mmm~" Abby hums as she happily ate the food. You chuckled when you saw how much she was enjoying herself.

"I'm starting to think you came to the celebration for the food"

"Isn't that the point of celebrations? To celebrate?" She looks at you while still munching on the chicken meat. You shake your head with a laugh.

"I forgot to say, your parents really made you look like eye candy" She said pointing out the dress you had on you. You look away feeling a bit embarrassed. This wasn't really your style but you didn't have much of a say in it.

"They're still trying to find me a 'boyfriend' so it's expected" You said as you began stabbing at your chicken with the fork. Abby notices and she had to admit it was painful to hear those words from your mouth. As a matter of fact, it was beginning to make her feel uneasy.

"But... I'm your boyfriend right?" She said and you laughed thinking she was joking but when you looked up and saw the seriousness in her eyes. The smile on your face dropped instantly.

"Oh... of course. This is what they want, not me. To be honest I really want to sneak off to my room right now" You said but you knew the lecture that would come if you did.

It's either gonna be words like "You're the host's daughter so go be a host!" Or "Why are you hiding in your room instead of socialising with people!" Honestly you can't choose.

"Then let's go... there's nobody stopping you" She said and you could see the mischief in her eyes. Guilty enough you grinned.

"Fine but if we get caught I'm gonna jump out the window"

Now you're in your room, the two of you laying down as you decided to cuddle. Honestly at this point you might fall asleep from how relaxing it felt. Your lips formed a smile when you could feel Abby running her hands through your hair or just touching it in general.

"You're gorgeous..." She uttered and from her tone you can hear the genuine love she had for you. If you asked her to take on a whole pack of infected she'll literally do it.

She'll do anything for you and yet...

You can't even do the same.

You can't even tell your parents that you're in love with her...

You're too much of a pussy to do it.

"You alright?" Abby rubs her thumb on your hand that you didn't realise was clenched into a fist. You quickly loosen your grip once you did.

"Sorry I was thinking" You said.

"About?" She looks at you, waiting for your answer that took you a while to give to her.

"I just feel awful that I keep leaving you in the dark with things... I'm too afraid of how my parents will react if I told them I was dating a girl" You said, nuzzling closer into her embrace. She hums in acknowledgement as she cups the side of your face.

"I'm pretty sure they'll freak out more about the fact I'm so muscular. Your dad can't even look me in the eye"

"I..." You stare at her, speechless.

She must have taken what your mother said to heart.

Fuck if you didn't realise you were hurting her, you were hurting her even more by letting this go on.

"I'm so sorry Abs"

"Shhh... it doesn't matter. I'll endure all of this, anything it takes to finally have my happy ending with you" She smiles softly down at you.

You really don't deserve her...

Suddenly there's a knock on the door and the sound itself was enough to have you both jump out of your bed in a hurry. Quickly you checked your reflection on the mirror to fix your appearance while Abby went to find something to busy herself with. The knock on the door continues, growing louder each time until you finally open it, finding your father at the door.

"Hey dad" You said, forcing the most genuine smile you could.

He doesn't say anything but stare at Abby who's back is turned to you, her focus on the collection of toys you've collected. He stared at her for an unsettling long 10 seconds before looking back at you, a faint smile on his face.

"Your mother and I want you to meet someone" He said and you tilt your head.

"Oh? Uh okay..." You responded and it took every strength in your body not to turn around to look at Abby as you're forced to leave your room.

Alone in your bedroom, Abby let out a long sigh as she rests both her palms on the table. Her eyes shut close after the close call. Moments like these seem to never get old.

It always leaves her feeling tensed each time.

After a minute, she was done calming herself down, she hopped herself off the table. But before she left, she walked near the window that had a whole view of the backyard. The same unsettling feeling she had earlier in the kitchen slowly crawled it's way back into her chest as she caught glimpses of you talking to a boy, both of your parents standing by your sides.

It wasn't the fact that you talking to a boy was irritating her, but the sight of you smiling and LAUGHING. That was what settled the score.

Without even realising, she began breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Is she childish for feeling like this? Being jealous? She can't even flirt with you in public and this guy who you just knew for a minute is now trying to hook up with you, in front of your fucking parents!!

Fed up and needing to get away from all of this, she left your room while making sure to slam the door shut. Several guests looking at her in concern when she made her way through.

After what felt like hours of chatting with people, you began to feel your face hurt from the constant talking and smiling. So the second the party was over, you were glad to have the privilege to change back into your normal clothes. To be honest the itch of the dress was killing you the entire night.

You laid on your bed and it was then you realised you haven't seen Abby ever since. Maybe she left early? Even if she did, you still felt bad for leaving her at that state. She must have felt so alone. You hurt just by the thought of it so you grabbed your stuff, being as quiet as possible when sneaking out.

It's not your first time sneaking out so it wasn't that hard.

After all, strict parents always raised the most rebellious kids.

By the time you were done sneaking past several people and making it to Abby's room, you knocked it a few times and waited for her to answer but she doesn't. Confused, you knocked again but before your fist could make contact with the door. It opened. You froze as you looked to see Abby staring at you, her brows were narrowed and the way she glared at you, you could tell she was pissed off.

It actually made you feel upset.

You don't know exactly what you did wrong but you just knew that you did.

That was until you noticed the dried tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Have you been—?" You hesitantly point at her eyes and for a glimpse second, her eyes widened but she was quick to rub her eye and cover it up.

"It's an itch.... What the hell are you doing here?" She said, quickly changing the topic.

"I wanted to see you" You smiled a bit, not sure if this is even the right time to act all affectionate and sweet.

"Oh..." Her tone was almost like she was mocking you. She then looked down the hallway left and right before letting you in.

While Abby closed the door, you felt uncomfortable being in the room. It wasn't the same comfort you would feel after a whole day of pretending to be the perfect daughter. Somehow it just drained you the very same. You looked at Abby when you heard her sit down on her bed, not caring the least about your presence.

Yeah there's definitely something going on.

And you're not the type to beat around the bush for it.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, straight to the point. She doesn't look up at you but her grip around her book tightened vaguely.

"I don't know. Did you?" She asks.

Oh great... she's in her mood again...

"If you're mad at me for leaving you in my room. I'm sorry... but that's the reason why I'm here, to make it up to you" You looked at her, hoping she would give you the basic respect of LOOKING at you when talking.

"Mhm..." She responded.

Fuck... it feels like your head is about to explode.

"Can you fucking talk to me instead of doing that whole shit? I fucking hate it when you do that"

"Then don't talk to me" She looks at you, finally.

You stare back at her with a look of disbelief before letting out a scoff as you roll your eyes.

"The door's that way" She pointed and that was the last straw.

"Don't— Don't you fucking treat me like that!" You raised your voice and she chuckles amusingly to herself.

"What? Did your boyfriend at the party treat you better?" She said, her words left you startled.

"What the fuck?" You blurted out.

Is that what she's so pissed about?

"Is that what you're mad at me for?" Suddenly it was like a whole new rage washed over your face. It didn't make it better with a storm brewing just outside.

"He's my FUCKING COUSIN YOU IGNORANT PIECE OF SHIT!! HE TRAVELLED ALL THE WAY FROM SPOKANE TO GET HERE!!" You yelled that you could feel your face burn up completely.

"And you expect me to just take your word for it?" She got up, standing in front of you.

"I'm starting to think you don't want to come out!! You love the attention don't you?!! DO YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!! Or am I just one of your experiments??"

"Of course I do!! I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!"

"But??? I fucking yearn for you (Y/N)!! Every fucking second I'm with you in public. I can't even hold you or kiss you!! Do you know how much it sucks being treated like I'm nothing to you?!!" She said and you could see the tears pour out of her eyes.

"If you love me then why do you still let this shit go on? Are you more scared of losing your image or me? You pick" She returned to her bed, her head lowered as she doesn't want you to look at her crying.

You stare at her, unable to make up the right mind. Suddenly a thunder struck and rain began to pour down heavily. You sigh.

There's no way that a bunch of infected is easier dealt with than this right now.

Your mom's gonna kill you...

"...I'll talk to them tomorrow" You said and she looks at you. Honestly now you're just standing in the middle of the room not sure whether if you should join her in bed after that heated argument.

"C'mere" She said, her arms spread and you stare at her... before completely breaking into tears. You walk over to her which she doesn't waste a second to hold you close.

You placed kisses on her cheek as you muttered the word 'sorry' over and over again. Even when she shakes her head telling you it's fine, you simply ignored her and placed your head on top of hers as you continued on apologising.

Not just for this moment now but for every other time you've made broken promises to her.

It was the next day, all the crying last night left you completely numb. You've never felt like such a piece of shit before. Seeing how Abby is still asleep, you decided not to wake her up and just go wash yourself up. Once you were done, you grabbed your stuff and tried to be as quiet as possible when leaving.

Your parents usually volunteer at the stadium's canteen early in the morning so there's no denying that they're already there. Watching your steps as you got down the stairs, you turned a few corners and walked a few more before making it there.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Manny greeted you and you greeted him back.

"You've seen my parents?"

"Yup, they're just in there" He pointed and you made sure to thank him before going ahead. When entering the backdoor to the stall, you could see them busy restocking the supplies.

The moment they spot you, you could tell they were upset.

"Where were you?!! You weren't in your room in the morning!!" Your mother expressed her concern.

"I wanted to go gun training" You lied so naturally that it caught you by surprise. You sucked in both your lips to try to stop yourself from doing so.

"Nonsense, you're a girl, that's a man's job" Your mother said while your father carried the boxes to the table. You took a deep breath.

"Sorry I lied... I was at Abby's" The two perked up at the mention of Abby's name.

"Abby's? What were you doing there?" They suddenly exchanged glances. It's almost too obvious that the two doesn't quite like her too much. Then your father spoke up right after your mother.

"No offense darling but Abby's a rebellious girl and we don't want you following in her footsteps—"

"We kissed" You said, an unmoved expression on your face.

For a second you had thought the two were frozen in time at your words but suddenly your mother laughs.

"Are you messing with us?" She asked but you could see from her gaze she was threatening you to shut up.

For some reason you didn't really care anymore.

"We also fucked... and I really liked it" You said as you watched for their reactions. You knew that deep down that they'll never accept you for the way you are but it's fine. They never really did even when you weren't yourself.

Your mother laughs again but this time louder, almost like she's losing it. Your father who didn't know how to react laughed along to her but his wary eyes weren't in his favour.

"I thought from the lessons our uncle taught you you'd stop having these thoughts! I knew I shouldn't have let you read those comics!" She said with a smile, almost like she's forcing herself to be happy, to stay calm.

"It didn't help. I lied saying it did because I didn't want to go back there. They treated me weird. They made me feel like I didn't belong anywhere, that I was a mistake, that I should have hated myself for having these thoughts" You then smiled, returning the same emotion your mother is feeling.

"But truthfully I love girls"

SLAP

Your eyes widened after feeling your mother slap you, it happened so fast if it werent for the burning numbness on your cheek you didn't think it even happened. You slowly turn to look at your mother who's eyes are red.

"Don't you fucking say that! You're a girl! You were born to marry a man!" She said but you shrug. Your action made her tilt her head in disbelief.

"I love Abby, she's a woman not a man. If you don't like that then that's your problem" With nothing more to prove, you decided to leave but stopped yourself when you were close to the door.

"Oh and... it had nothing to do with the comics. I've always felt this way" You added with your back turned to her. The second you were out in the canteen you couldn't help but stop for a second to catch your breath.

It actually felt like you were breathing right for the first time ever.

It felt so good.

You felt so weightless.

"(Y/N)? You okay?" You look up ahead to see Abby. Her hair a bit messy from just waking up but you could tell she just smoothed it over to make it work.

"I'm so fucking great" You approached her and threw your arms around her but she was fast to observe the hand print on your face. Her face clearly full of worry.

"Who did this to you?" Her tone clearly indicating she's not gonna let this slide.

"It's my mom. I just came out to them" You smiled and she looked at you like you were kidding.

"Without me? I thought you'd want me to support you—?"

"Its fine— but you can support me now. I'm starving" You smiled and seeing how overjoyed you are, she couldn't help but let you have your moment. Not wanting to disrupt this euphoric memory of yours.

"Alright baby" She said before gently kissing you on the lips and you smiled when kissing her back. An obstacle in your life finally dealt with.

Tags:

@bready101

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lovelywritinglady · 6 months

Note

Idea: ones of muzan's lower moons, reader, finds the blue spider lily he wants so bad. Thing is, reader likes him and decides to propose a date with him with it as 1. a gift and 2, for his progress he desires.

fluff?

Sounds great!

Date With Muzan

Muzan Kibutsuji x GN!reader

Major fluff. Muzan is out of character. Mentions of blood. Reader is a demon. Slight angst. Reader is down bad for Muzan.

Your Pov

Its been two hundreds years now, but I've finally found it! I finally found the blue spider lily for the man that I love and admire. I wonder now if my Lord Muzan will finally know my worth and see me as the truly loyal demon that I know I am. And that none of the upper moons even managed the feat that I have.

Many moons later I finally managed to get an audience with the man of whom I desire. It took a while of convincing him to meet me some where other than the castle that he loves to reside in. I proposed meeting in a quiet little town to which he finally agreed. And now there he was standing before me with all of his fantastic and beautiful glory. Muzan was in his male form this time wearing a suit as his curly hair framed his face perfectly. I bowed showing my respect as his piercing red eyes bore into my frame.

"What is it that you want y/n?" he asked as I kept my head down.

"My Lord, I have found the one thing that you desire most. It is yours my Lord." I told him with a happy smile on your face.

"What is it then?" He asked rather impatiently

"My Lord, first I must admit something serious and please don't take this a sign of disrespect. " You said as you reached into your pocket feeling the blue spider lily in between your fingers. You then continued. "My lord I have admired you for a many many moons. I could go so far as to say I love you, my lord. Would you do me the biggest honor and go on a date with me?" I finally managed admit as I pulled the blue spider lily out of my pocket handing it to Muzan.

Muzan then took the spider lily out of my hand looking at it with awe and then to me with the same wonderous look on his beautiful face. He then carefully put the blue spider lily in his pocket as he grabbed by face with both hands looking at me with a rare but sweet smile adorning his face. He then kissed my head softly which caused and unfamiliar feeling to creep into my body.

"How brilliant you are to have achieved such a feat. Not even my upper moons managed to complete such a task. Therefore, you shall have your date y/n." He told me which left me smiling like a love sick human.

"You honor me, My Lord, thank you. And may the flower further your successes in your plans." I told him putting my hands on his and leaning into his hands.

"You have done well. Where and when you you like our date to happen?" Muzan asked taking his hands off of my face, which made me miss the feeling already.

"There is a festival of fireworks in this town next month. Is that alright with you, My Lord." I asked with hope lacing my tone.

"It's a date then." Muzan teased winking at me playfully. This made me chuckle in response. And as I was about to speak, he was gone. I honestly wasn't surprised knowing how unpredictable that man can be.

One Moon Later...

I stood in the same small town where I admitted my feeling for Muzan. I gave him the thing he wanted most to show him how much I desire him. I'm dressed in a traditional kimono, trying to blend in with the humans. I heard them whisper how attractive I was and how they've never seen someone like me. It was funny really, having these humans fawn over me. Excitement for my date filled my body giving me a smile that I truly haven't had since I was human, which was well over two hundred years ago. I now just hoped that Muzan would be a man of his word. With a sudden flash, the man is question appeared before me also wearing a traditional kimono that fit him perfectly. I was absolutely in awe by how handsome he looked, but before I could comment on his appearance, he beat me to it.

"My My y/n, you look stunning." Muzan complimented making my cheeks feel hot.

"Thank you my Lord Muzan, you look quite handsome yourself." I thanked him as I bowed showing respect.

"I hope this date of ours satisfies you. You have earned it." Muzan told me as he stood by my side taking my hand in his.

"It already has, My Lord Muzan." I smiled turning my head to look at him only to find him looking at me with that same smile that he graced me with one moon ago.

"Very well then. The fireworks are starting soon I also have a surprise for you so be a good little demon and pay attention to the show." Muzan stated as I did my best to contain my excitement. However, my efforts failed as he took my hand that he was holding and placed a kiss on the top. As he did so, he kept eye contact with me and I felt like i was going to loose it.

"Thank you." I whispered just as the sound of the first firework boomed in the sky.

The show was beautiful and spending it with Muzan made it even more special. The show lasted longer than I initially thought it would. Ever so often I would look at him, admiring his features. The luck I felt and the honor of his hand once more brought me a sense of warmth that I've never felt before as a strange liquid poured from my eyes.

"Pay attention now, y/n, your surprise is about to happen." Muzan spoke which made me pay attention to the fireworks once more.

To my absolute amazement, the show was even more colorful and vibrant than before. I wondered if the surprise was simply that Muzan asked them (or forced them) to make the show longer. However, after a few moments, the sweetest gesture was written up in the sky: my name. It was written in my favorite color with beautiful vibrant fireworks in the back ground illuminating my name in the dark sky. I turned to Muzan and before I could think, I hugged him tightly. I could tell that he was shocked that I hugged him, but I simply didn't care. For this gesture was so kind and thoughtful, especially from someone so dear to my heart.

"Thank you, My Lord." I said with glee

"You are very welcome, y/n. I hope you have enjoyed our little date, my little demon." He cooed wrapping one of his arms around my waist as the other stroked my head. I snuggled into him as he held me grateful that I was able to manage something impossible for him. And now I finally get to relish in the fact that I am in the arms of the demon I love. I will be forever grateful that I was able to go on a date with Muzan.

Thank you for reading!💜 Many thanks to the person that requested this fic.

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aloneinthehellfire · 3 months

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Chapter Nineteen: The Bitter Taste Of Deceit

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: amnesia, death, horror elements

[A/N: Finally!!! I have been so busy with my degree shows that I haven't had time to sit and use my little fic as an escape but thank you to everyone still showing love to this series x This one is... let's just say I was depressed and took it out on the characters, okay bye]

The Bitter Taste Of Deceit

The metal table in the middle of a bare room was far from a comfortable environment.

Your finger taps relentlessly against the cool surface, hoping to distract yourself with the rhythmic movement.

It had only been a few days since you woke up, but rest didn’t soften the building panic. You almost felt sick. It was like your mind was racing, steering itself off the tracks to tumble across the grassy hills of your restlessness until you were nothing but a pile of unfixable damages.

You still can’t remember how you ended up here.

You can’t even remember what happened before here.

You only knew your name, that you were a person who was living a blurred misshapen life. And you knew what what you had been told. Not that words from a stranger’s lips would be trusted on your ear.

“Do you remember anything?”

You simply shake your head, the heart rate monitor rising. The hands attached to your wrists were fidgeting, twisting the sheet covering your body. You may not remember anything, but even you knew this wasn’t normal.

“No need to feel alarmed. That is perfectly normal.” His voice was weirdly soothing, his unwavering eyes making you blink horridly. How did he so easily see through you? “Your memory will slowly come back to you, I promise.”

“Why am I here?” You find the courage to ask after a length of silence, biting the inside of your cheek.

“We found you.” Brenner states, turning around to a mirror. A fake mirror, you realise. And he was smiling at whoever stood behind it. “And at the right time, too. If we hadn’t shown up when we did… well, to put it simply, you may not have survived.”

You took in a quick breath, so light it didn’t make a sound past your lips.

“Survived?”

There was that boy again, returning to your mind in a flash of blurry images. Survived. Survived? The word held such strong resonance. It disappeared as quickly as it came, so sudden you almost felt lonely in its absence. Whoever this boy was, he was important. You were forgetting something- someone- important.

“You were laying in the middle of the woods, not far from here. Do you remember how you got there?”

You try to muster up a memory, closing your eyes. All you saw was a faint red shadow of your flesh against the beaming lights.

“No.”

“That’s okay.” You open your eyes to Brenner’s smile, his hand resting gently on the bed beside your arm, careful not to force the proximity between you and a stranger, yet close enough for you to feel comforted. “We’ll figure everything out, in time. For now, you should rest, take a few days to gather up your energy. We’re here to provide you with whatever you need.”

We? You wonder, but too many questions lay dormant on your tongue. So, rather, you settle for one that required the least amount of effort to sound.

“Why?”

Brenner stands from the bedside chair, looking down at you with that same kind expression. You can’t tell if it’s forced, or if his generosity was genuine.

“There is a horrible war happening outside. We all need to stick together, do we not?”

You were told you had collapsed in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, and rescued by Brenner. Or, rather, a mysterious team. We, he had said. You don’t recall seeing anyone else here for the past few days. Brenner had saved you. And you were grateful, of course. But you had this consistent twist in your gut any time he turned his back on you, a brief moment of panic before it subdued.

You were allowed to wander freely in this place, not that wandering would take you anywhere different. All the walls and floors were grey, bright strips of bulbs almost making the light shade blinding. You always felt a sense of familiarity as you walked down the halls, peering through glass windows into bare rooms. It was as if you had done this before.

Brenner told you it was a bunker, hidden from the surface currently crawling with monsters. That much you do remember. The terrifying screeches, the traumatic swipe of sharp claws, even the dull throbbing pain in your ankle reminding you of a misfortune you could never truly forget.

Yet, still, everything was a blurred mess.

In time, Brenner kept saying. You wanted to believe him, but whatever happened to you was enough to damage your memories. What if he was something to do with whatever happened to you?

You shouldn’t trust him. He’s a stranger, regardless of what he has done to help. Not once has he ever revealed how he ended up here, or had access to such a huge underground fortress. Hopper would be so disappointed to know you trusted so freely.

…

Hopper.

“I just want you to know that… I love you, dad.”

“I love you so much, kiddo. We’re getting you out of there. You hear me? Even if I have to tear a gate open myself, I am getting you out of there-”

Your chair scrapes against the floor as you leap away from the table, rushing to the door.

The room you wanted was down the left hallway and the third door to the right, a room filled with machines and radio systems. Brenner had shown you it when you were able to walk confidently, telling you it was his responsibility to keep in touch with the outside world. And that was what he was doing as you burst in, his hands quick to slip the headphones down to his neck.

“I remembered something.” You say, breathing heavy.

Brenner only nods, turning back to switch the radio off with a key at the control panel and pocket it in his white coat, gesturing for you to leave.

He never let you stay in that room for too long. You weren’t yet sure why.

“What do you remember?” He asks as he settles into an old armchair, opposite from the couch you sat on.

Only one room in the entire bunker was furnished with items other than metal frames, a cosier living quarter you spent most evenings in. He had a bookcase down here, some board games. You think he may have prepared for an apocalypse. Or maybe it’s been longer since it begun than you thought.

“Hopper.” You say, looking to your hands. “I mean, my-my dad. I remember my dad.”

You glance up to catch something flash across his eyes, completely gone in an instant as if it never happened. Despite his nonchalant reaction, you sense he’s holding something back.

“Do you… know him?” You risk the question, though you already know what the answer will be.

“I can’t say that I do.” He says curiously, leaning forward. “What about him did you remember?”

“Just a conversation.” You shake your eyes, scrunching your face. “He sounded muffled. Or… static. Like a radio.”

“Hm.”

“And- and he said something about getting me out. Something about a gate…”

“Okay.” He says after a while, “This is good. This is progress. You’re slowly getting your memory back. May I ask, what brought on this memory?”

You take a breath. I was figuring out whether I should trust you. The truth didn’t feel like it would be received well. He obviously wants you to trust him, but you also need him to trust you, especially seeing as you barely remember who you are.

“I… I was just thinking.” You decide, nodding. You hold eye contact. Liars never look you in the eye, Hopper used to say.

“Thinking.” He repeats, mostly to himself. Brenner’s eyes flash to yours with a smile. “Keep thinking. Think as much as you can. Perhaps we can try some exercises, see if anything triggers a memory. If you were happy to do so, of course.”

“Yeah.” You nod eagerly, shifting in your seat. Anything to return you back to your life.

“Good. That’s settled.” Brenner pats his legs and stands up, already walking to the door without so much as a second glance. “I need to finish up a few things but I shall be back soon.”

“Can you-” You stop almost as instantly as you start, biting your lip.

“Ask away, Y/n.” He cocks his head, hand still hovering above the doorknob, curious.

“Can you send out a message?” You ask, straightening your posture. “With the radio, I mean. If- if I was right and Hopper was speaking to me through a radio, maybe we can reach him.”

There’s a moment of silence, long enough to have you question if you overstepped. But then he smiles again, nodding with eyes of kindness that looked a little too forced.

“I will see what I can do.”

Once he shuts the door behind him, you sink further into the couch, wrapping your arms around your body.

“I am getting you out of there.”

Where was there? Why did it sound dangerous, almost forbidden?

You try and reclaim the memory, searching and focusing and thinking until it began to hurt. You press your fingertips against your forehead, breathing to relax. The act of the touch above your eyebrows was calming, like it was used to the comforting nature of it.

You hoped Hopper was okay. And you hoped the others you have surely forgotten were safe, like you.

“Will?”

Steve taps on the door at the end of the corridor, feeling like the walls were watching him as he stood there, holding his breath to hear the younger boy’s small voice.

“Come in.” He sniffles, and Steve takes a deep breath. It was time for him to stop hiding.

“Hey.” He smiles as he walks in.

Will wasn’t sat on the bed like he had expected. Instead, he was on the ground, sheets upon sheets of paper scattered around him, a pencil in his hand.

“What’re you drawing?” Steve questions, walking over to him. As he moves closer, he sees the papers are blank.

The boy barely blinks. He just looks down at the floor, gripping the pencil tight, never drawing. Steve feels a shiver run down his spine, but he chooses to ignore it, just this once.

“The guys are missing you.” He says, lowering himself to sit cross legged beside him. Will only continues to stare at the paper. “They’re, uh, playing DnE.”

“DnD” He responds quietly and Steve smiles. He took the bait.

“Yeah, DnD.” He gently nudges him. “See? I need you, buddy, I can’t keep up with them.”

A corner of Will’s lips lifts to what could be a hint of a smile before it fades again, a dark look in his eye as he stares at a creative’s nothingness.

“I just want to draw.”

Steve frowns, but he doesn’t say anything. He only nods, placing a hand on his shoulder, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “If you need anything, just ask. Okay?”

“Thanks, Steve.” Will finally looks at him, smiling.

The sword that had been pressed against his chest finally plunges with one small smile, making Steve feel like he was bleeding out. He didn’t deserve this kindness. It was his fault Will was feeling this way.

“Yeah.”

With that, he stands and leaves, pressing his back against the door once he gently closes it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

Except, it isn’t.

Steve retreats to the staircase faster than he should have, gripping onto the banister with the remaining force of his strength. It should be different. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

When he was on the final step, he clocked the sudden merge of the Party sat at the only available window in the house, a viewpoint usually used to ensure the area was safe. They could only be sat there for one reason; the others had finally returned.

Both adults were situated upstairs, alongside the youngest Byers, while the Party and Steve were crowded around the corner window. Which meant four people were still left unaccounted for.

Steve peers through the glass at the giant metal gate surrounding his house. When he had arrived back on the surface, he found that Hopper and Billy had been building his home into some kind of fortress, a large barb-wired gate blocking the monsters from approaching. Not that many had appeared in this area of Hawkins thanks to the military’s bare minimum efforts to drive them away.

Now, he watches as figures approach it in the dark, not a single flashlight among them. They had to adjust to the night now, just in case light beckoned over their worst nightmares. Steve remembers you were the first to suggest this to him within the first few days of the apocalypse. He should never have taken your warnings for granted.

Billy was the first to appear, leading the way with a gun held dangerously in his grip as he scopes out the area, just in case. He’s the one to open the gate, signal that they were in the clear.

Next to run out of the shadows was Robin, her hair scruffy from a late night chop after one too many complaints her hair was always getting in the way. She was different to how you and Steve left her. Colder, somehow. Steve has been avoiding her since his return, afraid of what she must think of him to leave her best friend behind.

Then comes Nancy, lowering her shotgun to slip through the small gap in the gate, never opened wide enough in case something tries to follow. Her hair was tied back, a sunken expression. Steve figured their mission to find more food was unsuccessful. But that wasn’t the reason she was so forlorn.

The only person left was Jonathan. The boy was usually the last in, running up behind and helping Billy lock the gate, looping a comforting arm around Nancy as he and Robin continued whatever conversation they had been using as a stress relief for the way back.

Nancy locks the gate, signalling for Billy to head inside. She stands there for a moment after, staring out into the dark.

Jonathan wasn’t returning this time.

He hadn’t been for over a week.

June 1st (Day 60 of the apocalypse)

The task was simple: get to Weathertop and use the ‘Cerebro’ Dustin built to break through the static of the Upside Down. But was it ever really that simple?

“Steve, maybe we should stop.” Nancy suggests, taking in a deep breath.

It was one thing to climb to the highest point in Hawkins, it was another to do it after fighting for your life against a pack of demodogs. Steve should have paid more attention, but how much worse could this get?

“We’re almost there.” He dismisses, charging forward. He hears Robin’s murmur of protest, but he remains unbothered. They needed to send out a signal. He had to before one of those wretched things lurking in the dark destroyed his only hope to find you.

His calves burned as he climbed the unusual incline of Weathertop, driven by his poorly handled guilt. The sooner he got you home, the sooner he would feel relieved of his deceit to the others.

The sooner he could hold you and never let you go again.

Dustin’s radio monster, at least that what Steve viewed it as in the best possible sense, was swaying slightly precariously in the sudden sweep of wind, enough to have him rush to it despite his aching muscles. It felt like the sky was closing in on him, a divine entity set on there never being a happy ending. Good thing he didn’t believe in that sort of thing.

Steve rummages through his bag, pulling out the heavy weight of a brand new radio. You still had his, wherever you were. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know if that was true until he could hear your voice blare through the microphone.

Holding the radio in his hand, he starts messing around with the display Dustin had set up, following the rules meticulously crafted into his mind with ease that even surprised himself. All that was left was the frequency.

He holds out his hand, looking beside him at where Nancy stood patiently, barely panting from the rushed walk.

“What?” She frowns slightly, or Steve thinks she does. The night time was creeping too quickly on them.

“The paper.” He states, squinting at her when she continues to look at him in confusion, “With the number thingies?”

“Oh, uh..” She starts patting down her pockets, muttering under her breath about its possible whereabouts.

Steve couldn’t believe it. Nancy knew how important this was, not only to him but to everyone eager to get you home safely. She was never unprepared, and yet the time Steve needed her most, she’s scattered.

He blinks. Nancy was never like that.

As she turns to root through her satchel, Steve’s eyes narrow. He looks further down the hill to where three shadows stood beside eachother; Jonathan, Robin…

And Nancy.

Steve immediately swings his bat, knocking the imposter onto the ground with one sharp blow to the chin, catching it by surprise. When it shifts back to its original form, a sight that made his skin crawl, he realises he should have listened to the real Nancy.

“Shapeshifters!” He yells to his friends as more start to trail out of the shadows. He’s never seen so many in one place. They didn’t seem like they would travel in packs, unusual for a creature so independent. Which only meant one thing.

It was an ambush.

Everything else happened too quickly. He remembers dropping the radio and rushing down the hill, driving his bat into the heads of ashy figures and dodging sharp black claws swiping menacingly at his face. They managed to take out one each, but it still left so many more.

“Steve!” Robin cries out, but he doesn’t get the chance to even glance at her.

The moment his feet left the ground was when he realised he was being targeted. A shapeshifter had wrapped its claws around his neck and slammed him into the grassy hill, knocking the oxygen from his lungs. And then it wouldn’t let him breathe.

He was suffocating. It was scarily similar to the feeling he had in an enclosed space, the same cold hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until he could only close his eyes and plead it would disappear. And it would, eventually. But nothing like how the crushing feeling had been obliterated by just one touch of your hand.

Steve imagined it in that moment where his vision started to blur, blackening at the edges. He had memorised your touch for so long it almost felt like you were there, helping him breathe.

He wouldn’t feel it again unless he survived.

With his summoned siege of strength, he draws up his knees and plants his shoes against its chest, driving it away with a swift kick. The deadly grip loosened from his throat and he began to suck in painful breaths, crawling away.

Just as he raises himself on his knees, his eyes look up to meet the haunting gaze of what he thought he could escape. It was dressed eerily like him, wore a face identical to his, and it held a knife. The very same he bore on his hip.

He watched himself grin, something so unnatural to the boy he constantly viewed in the mirror. He swore his heartbeat stopped as soon as it dug its heel into the ground and charged at him.

“Steve!” Nancy shouts, but what else could he do? He wasn’t fast enough to stop this.

His eyes fly shut once the dagger is closer than comfort, awaiting the painful stretch of metal into his flesh. Unfortunately for someone else, he didn’t have to.

A pained gasp hits the air like a sobering thought, stilling his aching body. It didn’t belong to him. It belonged to Jonathan.

Nancy starts to scream as blood pours from his mouth, his legs losing their power and stumbling him back into a hoard of shapeshifters. Steve watches as they grab at him, pulling at his clothes. They throw a hand over his mouth and drag him away, looking satisfied in their assault.

Steve can barely hear Nancy’s guttural cries as she wrestles against Robin’s tight grip, the other girl trying to pull her back so she doesn’t go running to her demise. He simply gets himself off the ground, runs to them, and guides them in the other direction, the only sound his unusually steady heartbeat flooding his eardrums. Maybe it was the shock, piercing the sound so he couldn’t hear his ex-girlfriend’s screams.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to admit he was the reason they lost Jonathan Byers.

Chapter Twenty, coming soon...

[A/N: I'm away for a week now to go present my work at a really fancy event so we're gonna have to wait just as long for the next part ugh. Thank you all so much for your constant support, ily]

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likealittleheartbeat · 6 months

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hey! i really enjoy your analysis of aang and zuko's relationship, and i was just wondering if you have any thoughts on this:

when aang considers what he's afraid of the most, he doesn't just see zuko - he sees the blue spirit. why do you think his fear is linked to that mask? zuko was the most amicable towards him when he put that mask on, and was hostile every other time.

Ooooh!! This is such a rich and meaty question!! And it's something I've wondered about but never dove into before.

I guess there are a couple of questions we need to explore. One, do we want to begin to analyze this from Aang's perspective or the series' themes, which, when put together, should offer us the fullest idea of what the intent might be? If we begin with Aang's perspective, then the next question we need to next ask what is Aang's view of Zuko and/or the Blue Spirit at this point in the narrative? My worry about beginning at that intimate level is that we might miss possible connections that a thematic understanding might facilitate and may, like many fandom analyses, leave it at a character level when, in fact, the characters exist to serve larger philosophical purposes, especially in a show like ATLA.

So, we'll return to those questions about Aang after we visit some questions about the broader themes here. We know for a fact that the team did a lot of research into Eastern philosophies that they had to then pack down into 24 minute episodes, preserving a surprising amount of complexity not in the words but in the actions and visuals. The 2 part Crossroads of Destiny episode is probably the most evocative of this practice. The four-way fight scene is celebrated for the way it masterfully shows character development through fight choreography. Then, Aang's crystal chamber he forms to master the Avatar State is a direct reference to a statement about pre-enlightenment in one of the foundational texts about Japanese Zen for American Buddhists, "The Three Pillars of Zen." The rapid explanations of the seven chakras with Guru Pathik might seem like a a skimming of Tantric beliefs based on the brief statements and processing, but it's another prime example the way ATLA suffuses meaning beyond the script.

What more can be said about the Earth (also called the Root or Muladhara) Chakra, then, that the show might reflect without stating it explicitly. Guru Pathik explains that the Earth Chakra "deals with survival." Is there any subject more prescient than that for our protagonist, the single survivor of an otherwise all-encompassing genocide? Other accounts of this chakra that I can find explain that it's at this chakra that one can observe that their base needs are being met--enough food, enough water, etc. There seems to be a subtle witnessing to the effects of PTSD here then. With this chakra untouched, unopened, and out of balance, Aang within his mind has been living in a state of emergency without knowing it, believing himself at a core level beyond his consciousness to still be under immediate threat even in moments of peace like his meditations throughout the opening of his chakras. "Your vision is not real," Guru Pathik points out, not to say that no danger exists for him in the world but to illuminate the immediate reality surrounding his person.

The memories and visions that flash during the sequence hint at how fear conceals deeper realities and thus possibilities. I'll start with the clip of Katara sinking away from the first episode of Book 2, "The Avatar State." The Earth Kingdom General performed this cruelty after many other attempts to force Aang into suffering to gain the Avatar State. Believing he lost another person he loved, the state was triggered despite the actuality that Katara was unharmed. The fear of her loss overwhelmed Aang, and even her safe return could not assuage his traumatic response. The Blue Spirit incident forms a striking parallel to this event, in that case. Aang felt himself helpless and in danger only to discover the opposite: the seemingly malevolent force freed him from danger. Further, that Blue Spirit Mask concealed Zuko who, by the end of the series, will be revealed (to himself and) Aang as an ally and a friend. The shadowy image of Ozai, then, connected with these two fear-inducing semblances, can be seen then as perhaps the ultimate foreshadowing of Aang's ultimate success in pacifying Ozai. Put in the context of this chakra and the other two visions, it frames the Firelord as a facade meant to induce terror and distance, when in reality, life and humanity still lay behind the horrifying megalomania.

Concerning the Blue Spirit element specifically in the series, I want to explore one more factor within the series before getting back to Aang's character relationship in this moment. Blue has a running symbolic theme within the series that seems especially relevant here since it played a huge role in a highly symbolic part of the directly previous episode, "The Earth King." As Zuko rides out his psychogenic fever induced by releasing Aang's bison and abandoning his Blue Spirit mask, he is confronted in his dreams by a blue dragon voiced by Azula and a red dragon voiced by Iroh. I felt really confused by these two would-be shoulder angels for the longest time (literally until I was sorting my thoughts out to write this) because Azula's blue dragon is the one who entreats Zuko to rest, which even in Grey Delisle/Azula's clearly threatening tone--she even ends the temptation by saying "sleep just like mother!"--seemed to be what Zuko needed to do as opposed to the red dragon's exhortations to get out. I could see how sleeping might also refer to accepting his upbringing without thought, but why blue? The layers upon layers of possible meaning overwhelmed me.

I posit that blue in the series, especially when put in relationship to red/orange, as it is in the dream sequence, the dynamic between the water tribe and the fire nation, the fire of zuko and azula (especially the final agni kai), and the energy-bending of Aang over Ozai in the finale, ought to be read as Yin (making red/orange yang). Yin is passive, retractive, and receptive, which makes the invitation to rest by a blue dragon make perfect sense. Yin is also feminine in nature, hence the association with both Azula (whose blue fire and lightning becomes especially interesting to explore under this understanding) and Zuko's mother in the dualistic dragon dream. If you know anything about yin and yang, you know that it's key tenet is ever-changing coordination of yin and yang within one entity and with relationships between entities rather than the privileging of one above another. The two dragons in Zuko's dream, while seemingly in opposition to one another, are actually seeking, like the bumper stickers say, "coexistence" of their dispositions.

Now, back to Aang's vision of fear over the Blue Spirit. The red that overlays everything is specifically a reference to the Earth Chakra, which is symbolized by the color red. But the fact that he has one fear of Katara, the pinnacle of blueness/yin in the series, dying, and another fear of the Blue Spirit, a de-flamed (read: emasculated) Zuko attacking him that are then overlayed by this Earth Chakra red, a color otherwise used to portray yang (masculinity, activeness, expansion, and repulsion) and the fire nation in the series, suggests that his fears are specifically about within holding onto yin nature (symbolized by his grasping for a disappearing Katara) without being entirely overwhelmed by it (in the image of the fear he felt as the Blue Spirit approached his imprisoned body). And all those fears are intensified when living in such a patriarchal, or yang-skewed age and society, which gets depicted through both the final image of Ozai, the ultimate patriarch within this world, and the red coloring.

I promised I would get back to the characters, and after that hopefully illuminating thematic expansion, we can hopefully get at the core of what's going on here for Aang personally and what it might mean for him to be picturing Zuko with the Blue Spirit mask as a fear. I want to put this moment into context with Aang and Zuko's relationship at this specific moment. Aang hasn't seen Zuko since he watched him cry over his uncle in the ghost town after Azula struck him with lightning as a diversion. That was ten episodes prior (and more than 6 months time if you were watching the show in real time as it premiered; May 26th-Dec. 1st). The next time Aang sees Zuko, two episodes later, they are glowering across a crystal prison cell at one another with antipathy as they're embraced (a gesture I can only remember from the fantastic black romance film Love & Basketball, and in a gay context that is clearly referencing that moment in L&B, in the Norwegian teen romance series Skam). Right before this scene, Aang readily agrees to co-rescue Zuko and Katara with Uncle Iroh despite Sokka's protestations. Nothing seems amiss with Aang, no obvious belligerence toward Zuko until he sees him. Zuko has barely seen the airbender this whole season, and the one moment they encountered one another, Zuko was attacking Aang's attacker rather than him. Why is Aang expressing anger toward Zuko in the crystal chamber then? It's a rare expression from Aang even when we look at their more antagonistic interactions from the first season.

Here's where this vision of the blue spirit Aang envisions as he opens his earth chakra might enliven his characterization and his relationship to Zuko. We get two pieces here. His attachment to Katara and the queer implications of his partnership with the Blue Spirit/Zuko. And they are inseparable.

I don't feel that I need to especially dive into the attachment to Katara since it's been a pretty big component of discourse within the fandom, both in general analysis and more specifically relating to the (literally historic) shipping wars between zutara and kataang that emerged after the series came out originally. What I'll say here is that the first vision that Aang has as he addresses his root chakra points to his fear of losing her and what she represents pretty explicitly and, as I suggested earlier, also provides its antidote in the realization that accepting/surrendering the fear of impermanence reveals its simultaneous illusion. Katara wasn't actually harmed and wasn't truly lost when the general subsumed her into the ground. Aang has to let go of her as a permanent fixture that he'll always be able to see and know entirely (not, as many have interpreted it, let go of loving her). He'll also have to let go of saving her and the world of so many others she represents, which is as much a pressure and role Katara and others put on him as Aang yolks himself to.

Part of this acknowledgement of Katara's impermanence as a living being and a romantic possibility is addressing the others in her life who pose both danger and attraction for her. Zuko embodies both of these things simultaneously. The aggressive stare Aang launches at Zuko in "The Crossroads of Destiny" can be understood through this lens. The Eve Sedgwick's concept of the triangulation of male homosocial desire between romantic rivals was one of the foundational ideas of queer theory. It's so well-established as to be a meme among the tumblr crowd. The show even references the history of these literary homosocial tropes in "The Avatar and the Firelord" as Sozin and Roku's tight-knit youthful friendship is slowly rent apart at the event of Roku's heterosexual marriage, which thus begins the imperialism of the Fire nation.

Except that Roku and Sozin aren't romantic rivals. And Zuko's obsession with Aang begins sans Katara. And, as you pointed out, if the romantic threat is Zuko, it ought to be Zuko in the Earth Chakra vision instead of the Blue Spirit? Well, those all exist because ATLA is not a tragedy for homosocial relationships, and it's hard for me to explain how groundbreaking that was.

You see, the show theorizes homosociality differently. If Aang is required to let go of Katara, he has no pivot point, no object (because women shouldn't be objects for male fodder!) to connect with and compete with a rival male, so he has to look directly at the desire of another male for him and, therefore, face the fears that he might have similar desires. I said above that the Blue Spirit is an entirely de-flamed Zuko, which I then paralleled to emasculation. One could even go farther to call it a kind of symbolic castration (Firelord Ozai losing his firebending at the end of the series certainly demands this kind of reading). These aspects ignite fears about lacking masculinity which then cause reactions, which make men avoid accepting any thoughts and behaviors associated with vulnerability and homosexuality invoked within themselves or by others.

I think Aang, in his way, is confronting these fears but not from the angle of someone raised within a homophobic or misogynistic culture. His openness to Zuko and the potential of connection to him is ripe from the first time they meet--"you're just a teenager" connects them without any intermediary. He comes to understand the rigidness of the environment he's in, though. He feels like he's being forced to choose between a yang/masculine role he plays with Katara, who at this point in the series though growing out of it and certainly not a fault of her own making still sees him as her savior and depends on him to save her and the world through metaphysical mastery and the repulsion of evil, and yin/feminine role he plays with Zuko, who finds Aang in and forces him into positions of elusion, surrender, and passivity, while requiring his compassion and forgiveness. When the Blue Spirit comes swinging his swords (read that with all the innuendos you want lol) at a shackled Aang, it's the ultimate expression of Aang's potential for submissiveness because, not only is he entirely helpless but the one who could harm or save him in that scenario is another who is not participating in the expected power of fire/yang/masculinity.

I think everything in the show says this is attractive to Aang--that he remains with Zuko immediately after their escape from the fort, that he reflects on the Blue Spirit as he opens his chakras, that a reference to the conversation that followed their escape that Zuko makes halts him in his tracks when Zuko asks to join the team. Zuko's Blue Spirit persona means a lot to Aang, a scary amount, and my point is that it's this fear of the meaningfulness of their encounter as two men who are not the masculine paragons they are supposed to be which Aang faces as he opens his chakra. As much as he wants Katara, he wants Zuko. He fears he'll lose Katara and he fears he'll lose his life to Zuko. These are the dichotomies he's tackling as he processes the Earth chakra.

Aang eventually opens the chakra, but that's only to say he acknowledges and surrenders his fears to a destiny and understanding beyond his control, not that he necessarily learns how to address and solve all the conundrums contained therein. We know he chooses his attachment to Katara at the end of the episode to obtain power over the Avatar state but perhaps we could've been clued into this choice by noticing he has not chosen Zuko with that initial glare Aang gives him. Aang hasn't found a way in his chakras or his heart to hold both Katara and Zuko at once, so he chooses Katara and expresses a newfound jealousy and rivalry toward Zuko (not that Zuko's at his best behavior at this point, but it's Aang who initiates the exchange).

By the end of this season, Zuko abandons the Blue Spirit mask and Aang loses his life for prioritizing Katara and a yang-centric mastery of the Avatar state. The next season involves all three of the protagonists finding more internal balance between yin and yang for themselves and accepting mutually reciprocal feelings for one another that allow them to escape the kinds of patriarchal tropes that have dominated Anglo- literature for centuries. The ability of this brief sequence to highlight so many of the series' central revolutionary themes speaks to the depth of the show and the way it invites the audience to think about rich subtext rather than pedantically hammer us with morals will just continue to be the gift that keeps giving from this show.

Thanks so much for asking! Didn't know how much I missed doing a deep dive into this kind of stuff.

#aanglove #zukaang #atla meta #the guru #guru pathik

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junesprince · 9 months

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im sorry if someone has pointed these out already but i replayed p5t again and i am in absolute SHAMBLES with these new observations. i never actually post my thoughts here but i kinda need people to talk to about p5t IM AUTISTIC AND HYPERFIXATED. anyway onto the real post, sorry if this is unorganized and messy. im just really excited

i really wanna talk about the whole event that happens in the 3rd kingdom, on the rooftop.

soo.. when the school crashes and transforms.. it resembles a clock. a train station??? and. said clock is unmoving. what struck me is the time it was stuck on. 6:00pm, or 18:00, the exact time The Train Incident (tm) takes place, and the exact time eri was pushed onto the train tracks at the station.

i guess you could say, toshiro is stuck in the past, unable to move on and process his trauma. it's the extreme guilt of him losing his closest friend and how standing up and rebelling... just ended up in so many people hurt. he can't possibly live bearing the sin of that.

but here's when it gets more interesting... when shadow toshiro was threatening to kill erina, and when erina/eri inspired toshiro to take a stand, he throws joker's knife through the shadows hand, but more specifically, through the gloved hand, the one damaged from the train.

then with a really good sequence, toshiro runs as fast as he possibly can (i wonder how he did that actually) and with flashing memories of him failing to save eri in between, he manages to catch erina before she falls. and... he catches her with his damaged hand. the same hand that failed to save eri, saved erina.

remember the clock from the beginning? it STARTS MOVING AGAIN right after this.

this whole scene is genuinely such a beautiful and symbolistic way to show that toshiro finally found his resolve, and that despite all that trauma in the past, he's ready to change for the better and move again.

oh, and one more thing. toshiros mask only has one eye shown. the left one... the one that eri lost. they have ONE EYE EACH AAAAGHHH!! their souls really are connected.

what gets me more is that one of toshiros catchphrases in combat iirc is "witness OUR power as ONE" and it makes me go insane because he basically sees eri as his hero (here ill quote a futaba dialogue that hit me hard: "natsuhara's like the undefeated heroine in toshiro's life story, huh?") and she made him feel like he's more than just a puppet of his father. she inspired him to take a stand, and while this resulted badly, it led to his LITERAL SOUL subconsciously manifesting into a being heavily based on her (erina)

he just believes that eri/erina is a huge part of who he is. so "witness our power as one"

the fact he doesn't have a real PT outfit disappoints me a bit, but id like to think it's because eri taught him that he doesn't need to become all cool and change himself to rebel. he just needs to be himself. that's really it.

some extra things i have noticed:

-shadow toshiros 'weapon' is basically just bandages. i first thought this was a twisted more distorted version of the bandages eri gave toshiro when they first met (since shadow toshiro claims to despise eri)?? but someone in yt comments pointed out its probably made from eri's bandages after the incident. and i think that makes much more sense

-toshiro is the only persona user that has a persona opposite of his gender... that's kinda... 🏳️‍⚧️ if you ask me...heh (im trans)

-i know many know already but erinas character design is GENIUS . like ... the covered eye and the prosthetic leg?? referencing eri?? SO FUCKING WELL DONE. genuinely one of my fav character designs in persona

-not really an observation but remember the 'thank you instead of sorry' hideout talk where toshiro tells the gang about eri more?? when it was finished and toshiro said "natsuhara-senpai...um, thank you." IT TORE MY HEART STRINGS STOOOPPP

-idk im kinda unnormal about eritoshi. that's all

#persona 5 tactica #persona 5 tactica spoilers #p5t #p5t spoilers #toshiro kasukabe #p5t erina #eri natsuhara #thanks for reading all of this if u did :)#i love this game so much. seriously amazing #i migjt post more of things like this. maybe #eritoshi

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furiroad · 4 months

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Furiosa spoilers under the cut 🚗

It's actually staggering how much that movie did not need to exist. Gonna bullet point some thoughts

My sarcastic lol @ the lightning fast sisters cameo at the end where they're all played by completely different people. the quick flash of Cheedo's eyes bc they managed to get Courtney Eaton back for three seconds didn't appease me

I guess it technically passes the bechdel test bc right at the start Furiosa says "be still" to Valkyrie but iirc that's the only pass moment. I know not passing the bechdel test doesn't mean the movie is automatically bad I just think it's interesting considering it's following Fury Road

"she talks to her mother" I don't think they ever said her mum's name out loud

You know how mad max fury road could have a silent version w no dialogue + isolated soundtrack and it worked because you could tell what's going on anyway? This movie has the opposite problem. Way too much talking. They over-explain everything

The best bit was the prolonged torture scene at the end where Hemsworth explains Furiosa's entire character arc and the message of the movie out loud to her and also us

Even his teddy had an arm missing, replaced with a barbie arm. Thanks. We get it

Her arm made robot noises

Actually threw MY arms up in disgust when she went back for that boy she supposedly had a romance with despite the film never bothering to actually show/explain that. I'm calling it a romance because the actors did. I guess it was supposed to be a Capable/Nux parallel but it didn't work for me and not just because I'm a dyke and a hater OK, if you're gonna do a ROMANCE, DO A ROMANCE. don't leave me sitting there wondering why Furiosa is risking it all for some guy she's had ONE conversation with, especially after he offers to get her away from the Citadel and back to where she came from, WHICH IS HER ENTIRE MOTIVE EVER SINCE SHE WAS TAKEN

I DON'T GET IT

Them trying to emulate Max and Furiosa's instinctive, perfect we have to trust each other moment by having Jack and Furiosa... look at each other Meaningfully fifty times while they were supposed to be driving cars? Don't make me laugh! You will never be them!!

Max being there for a second wasn't cute! I rolled my eyes

Same at "remember me?" MAKE UP YOUR OWN STUFF

So many things happened because they needed to happen (plot demanded it) and didn't make any sense in context. My favourite was when Furiosa rode her motorcycle up a dune to get away after cutting off her arm and the biker gang couldn't follow her up there for some reason

So much Christian imagery... threw me off tbh

Considering it's Furiosa's movie it sure isn't about her + she doesn't speak at all for almost the first half

This movie was way too long

I called it about the peach seed

I called it that she cut her own arm off

George Miller read some of my blog but not all of it

You know how The People Eater rubbed his nipple that one time and it was delightfully weird and gross and got a good reaction? Well in this movie he's constantly rubbing it, the whole time. Really lessens the impact of the nipple rub

As you can see this movie has made me insane

Like this is not really about the nipple rub but do you get what I'm saying here

Furiosa spends most of the movie hiding her hair (because as we all know, having long hair immediately identifies you as a woman) and then when her head covering gets knocked off and her hair is revealed (omg she's a girl) she leaves it like that and becomes an Imperator. On what planet

The history man frames the entire movie for some reason. Do they show Miss Giddy? Take a wild guess

One of the coolest parts of fury road was that a gang of bikers ended up being hardcore wasteland grannies w guns and loose morals in response to people fucking around for far too long without finding out. Did this movie have anything like that for me? Take a wild guess for a second time

The car fight scenes weren't even that great. Couldn't remember hearing any good music under them (brother in arms truly lightning in a bottle) and they went on for too long which feels wild to say about suped up car battles in the australian wasteland: 2 but oh well. This is how I feel. Fury Road was so good at carefully measuring out high octane action and then downtime and careful, quiet character introspection and this movie had no idea what it was doing either way

Honestly I don't hate it but I feel like it was a waste of time and it doesn't need to exist at all. A real nothing experience. Am I going to see this movie ten times in cinemas? No I am not even going to see it twice in cinemas

I don't know what I was expecting.

oh my god also they played clips of Fury Road over the credits as if to say "remember how fucking good this is in comparison to the dumb shit you just watched"

#furiroad personal #spoilers for the furiosa movie i mean it

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eeulysian · 9 months

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⟡ . ALLURING

summary: model!kafka x afab!actress!reader. you met kafka at the red carpet, and both of you became enamored with each other.

cw: none

a/n: i'm sorry if i went overboard (or too short) and if my english or fic wasn't good! it's my first time making a fic, and i cringed a little making the dialogues.. other than that, i just love the celebrity au thing specifically with hsr women! they're all so glamorous and pretty enough that they'd star so good in the entertainment industry ❤

YOU were a rookie actress in the entertainment industry. even while you were a rookie, people absolutely loved you no matter if you were starring a big or a small role in a show or movie.

on one particular day, you were invited to the red carpet. you had to pick out the most prettiest dress you had in your closet because this was gonna be the biggest day you've ever experienced.

and you were infact right.

as soon as you got to the place, you were crowded by loads of vips and big shots like himeko, one of the older actresses you know. you starred in a romance show once and you met her. she starred as the female lead's best friend. and there was also serval, a really popular singer in the entertainment industry. she has many fangirls fawning over her.

there was countless of big shots and celebrities you could name, but there was one in particular that caught your eye.

kafka. she was the most beautiful model in the industry, and shes appeared in many magazines. she even starred only once in a show as a background character and she still caught many people's attention. if you say even her name, people would instantly light up and start talking about her. she's just that impressive.

she noticed you when she saw that there was a crowd centering you. she was curious to see who it was, and she found out that you were the rookie actress that just debuted recently.

after the crowd went away to go and center some other celebrities, she finally came up to you.

"aren't you... y/n? the rookie actress that starred in that action movie with stelle?", she asked. "oh, yes i am! and you are kafka, right? the renowned model that appeared in countless magazines? i really love how the recent vogue magazine turned out, you looked so pretty in it!", you reply to her back, flashing her a polite smile. "oh baby, no need to flatter me. i'm just doing my job after all", she gives you a wink and you jump slightly, both at the pet name and the wink while wearing a light hue of pink appearing on your cheeks.

"say... why don't you have dinner with me later? i'll drive you home ♡", she says, giving you a seductive smile. your heart skipped a beat, wondering where this will take you. all you said was a shy "yes", and that's where you knew you and kafka were going to be a scandal together.

#kafka #kafka x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #hsr kafka #kafka honkai star rail

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vintagetvstars · 1 month

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Avery Brooks Vs. Michael O’Hare

Propaganda

Avery Brooks - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Spenser: For Hire) - ben sisko absolute all time tv dilf and have you heard him SPEAK... the stage background absolutely shows and it truly makes him a standout in a legacy franchise *full* of incredibly talented people. also frankly top 3 all time sexy bald guy

Michael O’Hare - (Babylon 5) - This is the man responsible for making me A) Fall in love with men (respectfully) and B) was the first person to play a human in sci-fi that I actually liked!

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Avery Brooks:

youtube

Avery is a certified TV sci-fi hottie as Benjamin Sisko in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The first black star trek Captain, he also negotiated his signature look - the bald head and goatee - against haters who thought a Captain should always be clean-shaven. Thank God for that, because he looks devastatingly hot in a a goatee (a phrase never before uttered). He went on to direct several episodes of DS9, use his pleasant voice to record music and multiple host documentaries, and mostly retire from acting to teach as a professor.

TW: Flashing

youtube

with that wonderful stentorian baritone voice he could move from intimidating commander to gentle and compassionate space dad...benjamin sisko is a man of many qualities, thoughtful, morally complex, understatedly hilarious, a lil unhinged, really really excited about baseball, and avery brooks never fails to breathe life, depth and dimension into the character and also did i mention his voice. fun fact he was a professor of theater arts at rutgers while filming deep space nine and would occasionally teach classes via vhs tapes recorded on set, complete with starfleet uniform. he also directed a number of ds9 episodes including notable ones like "rejoined" and "far beyond the stars", and performed many of his own stunts as sisko. stunt coordinator dennis madalone said, "of all the stars that I've worked with on all the Star Treks, and all the other shows that I've been on other than Star Trek, I've never seen an actor so physically capable of just doing everything...every time I'd bring in a stunt double, he'd be angry, sitting on a bench, because Avery was doing so great." he's also a distinguished stage actor and an accomplished musician and singer who's performed everything from jazz to opera. science has yet to discover whether there's anything this man can't do.

youtube

Michael O’Hare:

youtube

#vintage tv stars poll #tv men 1 #avery brooks #michael o'hare #Youtube

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littleabriel-blog · 1 year

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Why You Shouldn't Watch Loki S2

With Season 2 of that show making its debut tomorrow, I thought I would make one last ditch effort to convince people not to watch it. It's not just because it's a horrible show that makes a mockery of my favorite Marvel character. There are a lot of problematic elements that contribute to the long list of reasons why people should not give Disney their money or ratings.

I am imploring people, one last time: If you must hate-watch the season, pirate it. If you must watch with some lingering hope that the real Loki will somehow make an appearance (and based on the reviews I have seen, that seems very unlikely), pirate it. Please don't contribute to Disney's ratings. Disney isn't going to care if you're hate watching or if you are only watching it hoping to get a glimpse of the Trickster we all know and love. They only care about numbers, and high ratings might mean we'll get stuck with another season of this utter dreck.

That said, here are some reasons why you should rethink giving this show your views:

It glorifies abuse and torture

In this show we are treated to the sight of Mobius using torture as "therapy", emotionally beating Loki down to the point where he capitulates to the TVA's demands, punishing him for having a crush on someone else by sticking him in a room for hours (at least) with an illusionary Sif who kicks him in the balls and punches him on repeat while further hammering the whole "you'll always be alone, you don't deserve good things" message, and generally working for an organization that subjects Loki to mockery, bullying, sexual assault (being stripped without his consent--that scene wasn't hot. It wasn't sexy. It was horrifying and I really, really have to wonder about the mental state of anyone who is at all turned on by it. Think about it, if Loki were a woman who was being forcibly stripped, there would have been loads of hatemail filling up Disney's servers), and slavery.

That's even before we get into the atrocious way Sylvie treats him. I've gone into how she treats him many, many times, how she belittles, invalidates, silences, and oh yes tries to kill him for daring to ask her to reconsider killing HWR. If the roles were reversed and Loki treated Sylvie like that? You ladies who love the ship so much would be boycotting Disney. It's no less abuse just because it's a woman doing it to a man.

It glorifies fascism

The TVA is very much Nazi coded yet they are framed as heroes...well, except when they're picking on Sylvie of course, since she's all pure and good and can do no wrong (Mary Sue powers activate!) They torture a character who is very much Jewish coded, an effeminate man who is very much the Other in the home he grew up in.

And what the hell is this?

As a Jew, I find this image deeply, deeply disturbing. It's a fucking gas chamber, y'all. It. Is. A . Gas. Chamber.

I don't know how anyone can NOT see how problematic it is.

It has Jonathan Majors in it

I really don't give a flipping shit if they're "only" allegations or if they wrapped up filming before the allegations came out. People boycotted Flash for Ezra Miller doing basically the same thing, so I don't see why it should be any different with Majors.

But then I know from experience that some of you so-called feminists out there are only about protecting or believing women when it suits you. Can't have a little thing like not supporting a domestic abuser get in the way of your wish fulfillment self-insert fantasies of beating the crap out of Loki before fucking him.

The first season was written by a total creep, and that same creep is producing the second season

'Nuff said.

Selfcest/Incest

I don't want to hear how "selfcest doesn't exist", especially in a fictional universe where you have sorcerers, witches, men with super soldier serum running in their veins, magic plants that turn individuals into superstrong Cat People, and talking raccoons.

And even without the selfcest, that ship is a very problematic one, as I stated above, and have continued to talk about at length.

It's just plain awful

The plot is predictable, full of holes, and not even that original (it's cribbed directly from a script Waldron wrote that was so awful, even SyFy wouldn't produce it, plus see my post with the clip from Batman Returns). Loki is grossly OOC in it...seriously, there is not a single hint of the character I had grown to love from Thor 1, Avengers, and the Dark World. He's nerfed all to hell (an Asgardian god who can take on Thor easily is beaten up by human rednecks?), and he's lost all his cunning, wit, intelligence, and grace all in favor of turning him into a sophomoric slapstick clown and the butt of everyone's jokes. The newer characters are poorly mapped out and one dimensional.

It's just...bad.

So there, that's my last ditch attempt to convince people to boycott this piece of shit. I realize my pleas might be falling on deaf ears, much as Loki's pleas fell on Sylvie's, but I had to get it out there.

Other Loki show antis can add to this or elaborate if they want. I'm too tired to be too coherent right now.

#anti loki series #anti sylki #anti sylvie

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sir-yeehaw-paws · 8 months

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i keep thinking about ocelot takarazuka i dont really see the influence like he just looks like a middle age guy with masc features manner and fashion so what do you think the artist actually meant? there's nothing feminine about ocelot like how does the "is that a man or woman" thing play in here cause i don't see it. He's not like raiden or raikov. He's just a guy 🧍‍♂️so how does the all female theatre thing apply

Hello Anon! Full, immediate disclosure, this answer is messy and disjointed. I probably don't even answer the question your asking end of the day, but I'll try my best.

I believe this is the post you're wondering about?

As I said in this earlier post I'm not a Japanese speaker, so I have to go on interpretation, and what has been offered by the translations available. I can't help but think there is going to be some sort of nuance missing as a result, but I'll do my best.

To start, I think you and I might have a slightly different view on masculine and feminine-to me the two concepts are pretty interchangeable, but I do understand where you're (probably, I don't know you personally after all) are coming from and that, no, Ocelot doesn't have many traditional 'feminine' characteristics.

You'll note that in the original post, Shinkawa refers to getting inspiration from the idea of 'women in their 40's (the age Ocelot almost is in MGSV)' and 'long, flashing eyelashes'. (My interpretation here is that by this, he means in the way long eyelashes that are considered sexy have an eye-catching flow to them. Sort of like how we can say 'fluttering lashes'. Intended to draw a person's gaze in, and command their presence).

Doing some cursory research tells me that the Takarazuka Revue (because Takarazuka is also a city in Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan.) is an all-female musical troupe located within that same city. Started in 1913, by Ichizō Kobayashi.

(I also got distracted by this version that is a performance of Casino Royale, so there's that)

Anyway, ahem.

"Kobayashi believed that it was the ideal spot to open an attraction of some kind that would boost train ticket sales and draw more business to Takarazuka. Since Western song and dance shows were becoming more popular and Kobayashi considered the kabuki theater to be old and elitist."

Throughout the article, there is also this;

"Takarazuka has had a profound influence on the history of anime and manga, especially shōjo manga.[27][28] Osamu Tezuka, a highly influential manga creator, grew up in the town of Takarazuka. His mother knew many of the Takarazuka actresses, and as a child he knew them and watched many of their performances"

I can assume that the performances have a lot of influence on media, and it's not uncommon for MGS to take inspiration. There could be an entire article on the things MGS takes inspiration from, even outside the most obvious like Escape from New York, character model bases, etc.

Cycling back to the original point, (there is also a video that exact post comes from, but I don't have the link on hand, on YouTube *no translations). I think that it's entirely possible Shinkawa took 'loose' inspiration, or a little more. I can see why and how he might've based Ocelot's look on the idea. (Loose shirt, tight pants, scarf open neck). But there is also the element of which Takarazuka is a performance, more than anything.

It's acting. Playing. Something Ocelot does all the time. Half of his time on screen, he's putting on some kind of performance. While this is something he does the least in MGSV, that never fully changes 100%. (And after all, he's also hypnotized for most of the plot). So there's a counter argument to be had that this is one of his greatest performances pre-MGS4. But that's a different post.

Ocelot presents/is masculine. But, he has longer eyelashes, his clothes are a little more 'free' than the standard military garb when he's allowed to choose his own outfit. (Again this is specifically MGSV Ocelot, though there's something to be said about his chosen attire being such a sharp 3 piece later on).

At the end of the day, maybe a way you can look at it is to say that, Shinkawa looked to Takarazuka when designing MGSV Ocelot to give him a sort of 'flow' to his looks. He was attracted to the idea of taking elements from Takarazuka, because Ocelot is a performer, and he sees some possibility for feminine additions in his looks *or* might've thought it more 'fitting' than Kabuki.

But again, I don't know if we see fully masculine and feminine the same way, (and maybe Shinkawa personally associates long eyelashes with sexy women; or women made up to look like men but with longer lashes) I can't know for sure myself. I think you would need a native or very good Japanese speaker to interpret it fully.

If I was to offer you a personal opinion-I can see it. I can see where there's a draw that one might have with the look, and where Shinkawa might've gotten said inspiration. But I am not entirely certain how to put that into words either? My perspective isn't going to be 1-to-1 of yours either.

Maybe someone else can interpret all this better than me, I definitely feel as if I've not done this justice at all. Because at the end of the day, I don't see a hard divide in masculine and feminine in Ocelot, but I think that you, Anon, see him as 100% masculine. But again, I can't speak for you and I am not sure.

#asks #answered asks #revolver ocelot #mgs #sorry anon this is probably the clumsiest ive ever answered an ask #i think there's too much thats open to interpretation to give you a clear cut answer like you might want but im not sure #maybe I'll come back to this later if i can think of a better way to explain it anon but i didn't want to leave you just hanging either #i also kept getting distracted by theater pictures so uh sorry about that #character posts: revolver ocelot

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artist-issues · 7 months

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I’ve just come across your Wish analysis (which led to binge-reading loads of your other Disney rants, which I so loved reading and totally appreciated), and you’ve got me thinking. So please allow me to rant for a bit.

Flash back to when the live-action Beauty and the Beast came out. My friend loved it, raved about it for ages, and made me go see it with her. The original was my favourite childhood movie so I was excited for the new one… and subsequently disappointed to an extreme. I couldn’t put my finger on it for ages - just that there was a general feeling of wrongness I couldn’t explain (until I read your post and I was just like, “YES! THIS EXACTLY!”). My friend couldn’t understand it and would say things like, “I thought you said you liked Beauty and the Beast!” But I do like it, and that’s why I’m so upset how badly they missed the point.

It feels like that’s all Disney is doing these days: missing the point! Because it doesn’t matter how many times they give us a sassy girl with long hair and some vague magic skill that helps her in the third act! We want characters. As in, people who remind us of actual people! What makes Belle so charming and relatable? She’s polite when other people are rude, but firm when they push against her morals, and enjoys reading. A relatable female character is one who can be compared to other female characters. Belle on her own is just a girl who likes books, but against the motherly Mrs Potts who takes care of everyone, or the vain triplets who only want Gaston’s attention, she’s suddenly so much more real, and that’s what these new films are missing!

Anyway, I could go on and on about this, but I’m sorry because I didn’t mean for this to get so long or out-of-hand 😬

That is why you like it: that is why you’re upset; because you DO like the real Beauty & the Beast! Wonderful! Yes, you get it!

I think what makes Belle feel real is some of the raw emotion she shows—and how she shows it.

When living furniture puts on a light show, she gasped and claps and dances along. When the Beast asks her a romantic but loaded question, her first impulse is to say “yes!” but then she does double back and admit that she misses her father; she doesn’t have all her thoughts collected, exactly, but she is being honest. When wolves attack her, she screams. When she has to give up her life, she sobs on a bed. When she’s in a terrible situation, she does initially basically pout and refuse to leave her room. But when she’s being watched by others, she tries to be strong; she cries silently when she’s following the Beast to her room. She gives him her word with her back straight and her eyes closed all grave. Like I said, you can almost see her remembering stories she’s read of brave heroes giving solemn oaths, and she’s trying to be like them.

Emma Watson didn’t bring any of that.

She had to make the character too in-control of her own emotions even when outlandish or traumatic things are happening, because her idea of a “strong woman” can’t be delighted or horrified or fazed, in general, by anything st all. She made her as distant and unrelatable as any caricature. I mean, I remember very clearly the one and only moment I felt a glimmer of “that’s Belle!” in the movie, and it’s when Belle is given the library and the Beast leaves the room, and Emma Watson gives this excited little half-shriek of joy. And it’s like…where is that in the rest of the movie?

I can even find fault with that moment, too though. Because she waits till the Beast, the gift-giver, leaves the room before she really reacts that strongly. Why? The real Belle tells the Beast how wonderful she thinks it is, breathlessly, over the moon.

Because when someone gives you a gift, if you’re a self-protective, cool-calm demeanor feminist, you don’t let them see that they have any control over your emotions—not even the ability to impress you or make you happy with a crazy gift.

But, instead, if you’re a selfless woman, who is happy to share her emotions with others especially when it brings them joy, you have no trouble showing that a crazy gift delights and impresses you. It’s part of the gratitude/

Anyway! I could go on and on. But don’t let anybody get it twisted. You do like Beauty and the Beast. You just happen to know what Beauty and the Beast really is, and why you like it.

#Thanks for the ask #beauty and the besdt #Emma Watson #the beast #Belle #batb #live action #live action beauty and the beast #Beauty and the beast

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temporalhiccup · 2 years

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As creators, we cannot help but plant the seeds of our inner truth, even if we're unable to see it in the moment.

I say this because, many times, I wrote about being trans masc before I realized that's who I was.

I think the clearest example of this is The Doll, one of the characters you can play in Our Haunt. I wrote the first version of the game in 2019.

Our Haunt is a creepy-cozy game of a found family of ghosts, and the haunted rooms they have claimed for themselves. You decide if you want to attempt to reconnect to the painful memories of when you were alive, or create new ones with your new family.

Here's the description of The Doll playbook:

The Doll

You wake up feeling constricted, suffocated. The world around you is suddenly so large, wide, overwhelming. But your body is not your own, and your small voice is strange and terrifying. You’ve woken up in the body of a doll, and don’t remember how you got here.

Did you come into this body willingly? Or did someone force you into this strange vessel? Your best chance at leaving this prison is by working with the other ghosts of your Haunt.

I wrote the doll to be any kind of haunted toy really, not necessarily a femme doll. But looking at some of the character creation options, it's crystal clear to me in hindsight. The Doll speaks to my experiences as being conditioned by society to perform femme. I was assigned female at birth, and so female I must perform by exacting standards, and fail miserably all my life.

I add additional themes, narrative and emotional layers to explore, for each playbook. For The Doll, I didn't question at the time why I thought lies, infantilization, and bodily transformation were the right themes to go with. I mostly write from a place of intuition, that looks like stream of consciousness writing to the casual observer.

There are many telling things: such as a look option of porcelain falling from my face, a memory of a mirror showing a dark reflection behind me, the yearning to make my body more pleasing to me.

Of course, as the Doll, you have access to moves like tell a lie someone else wants to believe and change your body in a spooky manner. There's a lot more in the playbook, oh boy.

In one of those "Rae should have realized something was going on" moments, a similar incident would occur almost every time I playtested Our Haunt with folks. Different folks! Different groups! And almost every single time, a trans person would pick up the Doll and say, "It's amazing how well you captured the trans experience in this playbook."

And I, utterly clueless, would respond along the lines of, "Wow, that's so strange, I'm not trans!"

One time I said that, and the discord call got very quiet. There were a few seconds of an incredibly distinctive pause. At the time, I wondered if I had said something offensive, by misspeaking in a trans space (hah!). But now I realize that at least one person (if not all of them) were thinking, "Ah, an egg. Well, who are we to crack it before it's ready?"

The thing is, I played the Doll a lot. I even remember thinking, "It's funny how this is the easiest playbook for me to play, I'm not drawn to this archetype at all" (HAH!!)

The Doll is just one example of my heart and soul finding its way to express itself before I could stumble unto the truth. I think it's one of the many amazing gifts that art, and the act of its creation, can give us:

The gift of the truth, even before we're ready for it. A moment in the past, surrounded by layers of clarity, waiting to be unearthed by our future selves.

I'm very proud of Our Haunt, and it's the first of my games to actually get published and printed! It came out earlier this year, and is one of the brightest lights in what has been a dark time. I can't believe you can find my game alongside other wonderful titles by Possum Creek Games!

If you do pick it up, I give you full permission to flip through The Doll and have a little chuckle, at my expense. I promise I'm a very good sport at being such a tough egg to crack.

P.S. The Doll, and all the art of Our Haunt, was created by Habil Firdaus.

#sword queen games #design breakdown #ttrpg design #our haunt #indie ttrpg #transgender

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uselesssomebody · 2 years

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𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟟.𝟝𝕜

summary || in which the reader's smile is a sight in the q.z.

a/n || i love him, your honor ➵ i'm watching the mandalorian so expect some fics on that soon! ➵ set before the show, so possibly canon divergent? no real main characters except the millers are a part of this ➵ i'm 90% sure i didn't accidentally spoil the show or game in this, except that ! news flash ! joel has a brother ig? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst ➵ show-typical violence and graphic descriptions of blood and wounds

she hurt again. she always does, be it the dull ache of her shoulders, the burn of her calves or biceps, or her stomach - excruciatingly, about one week out of the month. this time, it was a headache, the damn thing feeling as though her head would split open if she didn’t do anything about it in the next few moments.

luckily, some superior being out there heard her silenced, wailing pleas, as she lifted her eyes to a figure approaching her. his hand was outstretched, and she was so glad to see her relief in his hands that she clutched it desperately, pulling it out of his grip.

“hello to you too.” he mumbled, a large smile quirked on his chapped lips. well, as large of one as you can have in this godforsaken q.z., anyways. he watched as she swallowed the painkiller immediately, not even bothering to grab the small bottle of water in her bag. had any other person taken the pills he’d so delicately procured without promise of goods on their own side, he’d probably have shot them.

but he knew her. and he knew she wouldn’t.

he leaned slightly against the crumbling brick wall shielding this particular back alley, taking note of the way her previously tensed features softened, until the furrow of her brow and clench of her jaw was replaced with a smile instead.

this one, though, was actually large - for even pre-pandemic standards. she was like that a lot - smiling, happy, excited. positive. it was a hard thing to come by nowadays.

“thanks, tommy.” she sighed, reaching into her bag quickly to return the favor. the box that came out was a bit greasy and moist, and the smell of good food hit tommy miller’s nose almost intrusively, not used to the smell after the past week of food that could be bought with ration cards. the q.z. may have provided sustenance, but flavor seemed the be considered just as bad as the fucking zombies in here.

in similar fashion, he takes it out of her hand, finding different, small seasoning and sauce packets, as well as a plastic wrapped container of chicken. he shut the box quickly, as if worried the meat would come alive and fly away, and she smiled at the hastiness of the action. her painkillers had been quickly packed away into her inner jacket pocket, and she’s quick to survey the surrounding.

“so, i’ll see you week after?” she nodded, as tommy began leaving.

“next sunday, noon!” he saluted at her, and she rolled his eyes.

joel had forgotten about the idea of good food until about two months ago - when his brother had returned with an odd smelling container. he wondered what on earth he’d been up to, not even letting tommy explain before he started unpacking it. the meat inside looked a little foreign, the grilled crust on it something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“tommy, what the-”

“it’s good, ain’t it?” he had an excitable pep in his step, and joel raised an eyebrow.

“how’d - how’d ya even get this?”

“one of the smugglers - she brings in food from her trips.”

“where does she get it from?” tommy looked at him as though he was crazy.

“why the hell would she tell me, joel? what’s it matter, anyway, we got great food now!” joel - the older brother than he is - felt perturbed by tommy’s careless attitude, but shrugged it off.

“what’d you pay for it then? how many ration cards?” tommy waved him off.

“a bag of pills - painkillers. said she’d give me a box every two weeks for a bag of them.” joel shook his head, still apprehensive.

“painkillers are hard to come by, tommy, is it really worth it?” tommy didn’t respond.

it was, in fact, absolutely worth it. the brothers practically licked their plates clean that night, the taste of the still juicy chicken invading their senses after the past 7 months of mostly sloppy, shitty soups and broths.

she became a staple of their rounds, with tommy always making time to get painkillers for her, and to meet her. both brothers knew it was stupid to ‘pretend to enjoy the finer things in life’, as joel so cynically put it, but that didn’t stop their appreciation for the food.

as for her, those few months had been the first time she’d had steady supply to something to ease her pain.

truly, she didn’t know how she’d carried on so far in this pandemic, considering she used to be a school teacher before all of this. the most she’d had to deal with back then was maybe a rowdy kid or two - or worse, a rowdy parent. not zombies - or infected, whatever. not terrorists, vigilantes, raiders, the fucking feds. she was even more shocked that she’d adopted a lifestyle of smuggling, as opposed to being another menial laborer. hell, she’d been anti-gun before all of this, and now she’d go through fifteen magazines a week - on good weeks.

luckily, she was a good shot, or she supposed she’d be spending a lot less on painkillers, and a lot more on bullets. she attributed it all to the first person to pay attention to her in the q.z.

she was a bit older, the woman - maybe mid 40s at the time - but she was incredibly fit, lithe and agile. they were put on odd jobs by FEDRA all the time, and it took about four jobs before she - beth - realized they were always paired together. she’ll always remember the first thing she told her:

“you’d think they’d get a better bunch than us to do this shit.” she had gestured to the group, full of mostly the malnourished, young, and old. there were considerable overlaps in those groups, if you can imagine.

sure, that first sentence wasn’t indicative of what would have become a budding friendship, but beth was quick to take her under her wing. then, when the older woman made the switch to smuggling goods, she figured that her young friend would do good in joining her.

“i don’t know, beth, what if the feds find out?” her arms were crossed over her chest as she paced up and down beth’s tiny apartment.

“you’ve got me! c’mon, when have things ever gone wrong with me.” she could name a few, but she pursed her lips to stop herself.

“what would we even get?” beth’s eyes lit up at her slow succumbing.

“that’s just it! i have an old, old friend who’s got a farm maybe 20 miles from here. he’s got these big fences to keep out the infected, but he grows fresh fruit and - meat! can you believe it! he’s got cows and chickens, and-” she stopped herself from delving too far into her master plan, “if we smuggle in food, we can get extra ration cards, extra supplies, and maybe even trade for other things!”

the idea excited her, and she couldn’t hide it, with beth immediately picking up on the released tension in her step, and in the way her arms crossed.

“but how would i survive out there? i can’t even shoot a gun.” beth’s smile widened.

“that’s the best part, hun. i’ll teach you.”

and teach her, she did. by the time they started making the serious, 20 km hike to beth’s friend’s farm, she was more than comfortable with a firearm, using it to save their lives on more than one occasion.

the trips had become muscle memory to her. they’d travel to the farm, trade ammo for food, and then come back, and trade the food for ration cards, for cigarettes for beth, and for the occasional bottle of whiskey.

it had become such muscle memory, that they both made the journey themselves occasionally. she’d been particularly busy one week trying to wrap up a larger deal with a group of fireflies - or at least, what they used to be - for decent first aid supplies. beth had urged her to carry on, and reassured her than she’d be back within 2 days with more food.

she waited two days. then she waited two more. then she got worried.

it was risky, she knew, but she had to figure what had happened.

she’d taken the same route they always took, except something had changed. one of the buildings in which they constantly stashed goods - usually empty - was now littered with metal cartridges, blood splattered across the grimy walls. her eyes widened, confused at the scene, and so fixated in figuring it out that she nearly tripped over something.

not something, someone.

she lets out a soft gasp at the corpse, the hole in his head indicative of his fate. she looked at the bag next to him, a quick confirming her fear - raiders. she rushed into the building, seeing their hiding places all ransacked - the slot in the bookshelf, the one under the table, the one behind a painting. her eyes saw a trail of blood, and, following it, she saw beth’s glassy eyes looking back at her.

a sob broke from her before she could realize - as, though she’d hoped for anything, anything else, she knew what the fate of her good friend had been. beth’s abdomen had been scarred, her jacket flipped out as though someone had scoured her pockets. the blood on her shirt had become flaky and a deep brown, having oxidized in the past few days.

she fell beside her, wanting to grab her hands, but recoiling at the stiffness of them, at how cold they were. her hot tears felt like a sharp contrast, and it only repeated the same juxtaposition in her mind: she was alive, and beth was dead.

she’d made the trip herself that day.

and every day after that.

she didn’t speak to anyone for a few weeks. her deals occurred over the span of a minute, maximum, and she didn’t greet the teenagers that lived across from her anymore, or the elderly man who would give her her ration cards for the days work. she went back a few days later to revisit her.

she had flowers - as many wildflowers as she could find on the way, and she placed them beside her as she shut her eyes, wincing again at the cold of her skin. it had begun to smell horrible in there, with the place becoming infested with scavengers.

she knew how much beth loved nature - hell, it was half of the reason she wanted to do these runs - so she - with all the strength she could muster, brought her about a hundred meters out, under the largest tree in the vicinity. she was sure it was a fruit tree of some kind - apples, or pears, she couldn’t tell. she laid her down lightly, pushing the flowers into her form delicately. she rubbed her own nose, willing the restarting tears to simmer, before backing away, sitting in the soft grass and just thinking.

beth was a loving person. somehow, through every way this pandemic hardened her, she still loved. she’d point out pretty, fragrant flowers on their hikes, she’d dream up elaborate meals and outfits, she’d always walk with a small pep in her step. sure, she was ornery when she needed to be, but she didn’t see too much of that. she saw the way beth would laugh, would smile, and would sing. she was terrible at it, but it never stopped her.

above all, beth loved her laugh. she loved the way her face lit up at a dumb joke, or outlandish comment. at the snarky comments beth would make to her friend, or the satirical ones about FEDRA and other smugglers.

she supposed that that day had been some form of closure for her. and she thought she’d do the little she could in beth’s memor: smile.

she was hard to miss in the q.z. it didn’t help that she was always waving at tommy, a quick greeting of hello - though, one not exactly common anymore. no, the problem was that damn smile. a smile never hurt anyone, except, of course, resident cynic joel miller. it always made him feel off, somehow, unable to feel comfortable with the notion of this bright thing in this desolated town of despair.

worse, though, was that he knew it wasn’t fake. he wondered how in hell she could be enjoying seemingly everything. he always let tommy handle that trade, though he did appreciate the goods. a packet of painkillers had initially seemed a steep price for chicken, but he was quick to realize which one they came by more often.

tommy would always chastise him for his sour face. his brother was always the more carefree one, more relaxed. the perks of a younger sibling, joel was sure, but he never mentioned it much. tommy’d always smile back at her; in fact, since her, he seemed to be smiling a lot more.

it made joel roll his eyes, the both of them acting like everything was fucking peachy.

that week, tommy’d been pulled away for a deal gone awry - some guy had sold their supply before being able to pay them back for it. he had some vendetta against joel, so the only way they could salvage the situation was through his more socially able brother. he was clear when he’d left:

“noon, joel. back alley two blocks from the soup kitchen, alright?” joel had nodded, only slightly, as he enjoyed a late lie-in - for the first time in about three weeks.

though he wasn’t particularly keen, he got up at about 11:45, rinsing his face to wipe the remnants of sleep from his eyes, before leaving the place. it was only a few blocks away, so he walked casually, taking a moment to peer into the soup kitchen to see if they were serving anything a step above edible. ah, who am i kidding? he thought, reminding himself of the lovely chicken he was about to pick up.

what joel wasn’t aware of was how precarious this area was, as a FEDRA thug would be stationed to glance over the back alleys about every 15 minutes to see if there was anyone trying to steal food from the soup kitchen. thus, there was only about a 5 minute gap where there were no guards. she knew it, and she knew that tommy knew it, so she wondered where he was, knowing if he delayed too much longer their window would be lost.

she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, rolling her shoulders to just lightly relieve their pain. when she finally hear footsteps approaching, she breathed out a sigh, reaching quickly for her bag to shorten the time of the exchange.

“jesus, tom, what’re you doing? you know we can’t-” she was fumbling with the zipper of her bag, only realizing that it was in fact, not tommy when she looked up. her eyes widened for a moment, before she seemed to recognize him, her stance dropping a little from their tensed state, “j-joel? right?” he nods, silently, arms crossed, “do you have them?” he shrugged.

“let’s see what you have, first.” she paused for a moment, before realizing that he simply didn’t trust her.

“are you serious, man? look, we don’t have time for this-” she’s cut off by the crisp sound of boots on the floor, making her realize that their time had run out, “oh - shit-” she starts fumbling to close her bag and sling it back over her shoulder, and joel seems just a bit confused. that only increases when she grabs his hands, placing them on her hips, and pulling them further against the wall.

“what the hell-” she looks up at him with such earnest that he shuts up.

“i’m sorry, just trust me.” she whispers it on his cheek, their faces only a few centimeters from each other. he sharply nods, just as she realizes that the soldier was turning the corner. she stood just a bit taller, craning her neck so that her face was parallel to his, and wrapping her arms over his shoulders.

he was pulled into her lips, the momentum causing him to dig his fingers just a bit deeper into her hips, and his mouth moving a little viciously against her own. he hadn’t done this in a long time. he was sure his actions were a little shaky, and he reminded himself of the fact that she was only doing this to make sure that the guard wouldn’t find out about worse, more nefarious dealings.

but, god, she tasted nice. he wasn’t sure where exactly she would find fresh mint to chew on, but he figured it must be from the same place she got her chicken.

his beard felt just a bit prickly against her chin, and his lips were a bit chapped, but the way he was grasping onto her hips right now made her forget all of it. she knew the act he was putting up was pretty masterful, but that didn’t stop it from feeling good. the warmth of his body had even managed to make forget about the various pains in her joints.

“hey! what the fuck is going on here?” the sharp shout of the guard made them break away, but just slightly, and she feigned an expression of scandalized shock at seemingly being caught in such a heated moment. joel ‘recovered’ faster than she did, separating from her and clearing his throat.

“nothing! nothing, man.” he held his palm up in surrender, and the guard glanced over the both of them with keen, suspicious eyes. though, upon seeing the way the back of her hair was messed up from being placed by the wall, the way his clothes had bunched up near his shoulders, and her around her hips, and that both of them seemed a bit flustered and out of breath, he stepped back, gesturing them to come out.

“do not do it again. you’re not allowed in this area, yeah?” she timidly nodded, and joel mumbled a gruff thanks, the both of them reintegrating into the busier street. she keeps her eyes fixed to her feet, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“guess i’ll just got to yours - give it to you there.” she suggested, not knowing how else she’d be able to make the exchange.

“huh? yeah, yeah - okay.” joel was still just slightly shaken up by the encounter - both at how easy it was to convince the guard of his supposed intention of simply wanting to feel the warm touch of another - and how much of it was just an act. when he glanced at her glassy eyes, his gaze ghosted over her pigmented lips, having become brighter in their color due to the intensity of their actions.

he’s happy that his apartment’s so close, as he worries what would happen if he continued to ponder on it. the door’s lock is rusted to high heaven, but he fishes out his key, unlocking the door and swinging it open. he gestured for her to go in from of him, before closing the door again.

her eyes flit over the apartment: the shoddy couch and bookshelf just adjacent of the twin bed, and the rickety dinner table closer to her. it looked a lot like hers, really, save for the large radio placed between the couch and bed, making it seem as though as it was particularly important. hey, painkillers were her way of coping with their situation; maybe music is theirs?

joel patted the front of his pocket, before reaching two fingers into it, plucking out the painkillers, and placing them on the table in front of the both of them. she looks between the bag and him once, before smiling softly, realizing that his trust for her had obviously grown since just 10 minutes ago in the alley. she reaches into her own, pulling out the familiar box and placing it in front of her, before replacing the spot in her bag that had previously held it with the bag of painkillers.

as she’d placed it down in front of her, she’d let out a short exhale, the ghost of a laugh.

“considering that exchange, you should really enjoy this chicken, miller.” a smile had continued to dance on her lips, until she’d looked up to see his rigid face: pointed stare piercing into hers, his stance as reclusive as possible, his hands crossed tightly over his chest. her face also sobered a little, averting her gaze in the slightest confusion.

“you smile a lot.” he almost mumbles it, but the accusatory undertone in the pointed statement, makes her double-take, looking up at him with furrowed brows. her mouth hangs open as she formulates a response - unsure of what really to say to that.

“i’m sorry, solemn joel miller, for smiling?” she attempts a joke, but it’s directed at him, confused at the man’s distaste for such as simple thing. he shakes his head lightly, looking away and deciding to take the box off the table to have something to do with his hands.

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no, please! tell me what you did mean.” she knew it was also stupid to get defensive so quickly, but so much of that part of her was influenced by beth, that she couldn’t help but feel a small attack on her friend’s character as well.

“just - look around us, alright? their ain’t exactly a great world out there that you’re smiling for, and the little miss sunshine thing you do - it’s boring-”

“little miss sunshine?” she had completely stilled in her place, astonished by the fucking gall, “just cause everyone doesn’t want to hate every single part of their life, you fucking cynic.” she angled her body away from him, her rage evident in every movement. she wanted to rip into him - truly - but knowing it’d do nothing more than hurt her voice, she decided against it, snatching the painkillers off of the desk, and walking back out of the door, closing - or, really slamming - it behind her.

tommy had laid into joel after another two weeks, when, after his recent meeting with her, she had made it evident that she would not be dealing through joel again.

“what the hell d’ya say to her, man? have you seen her, joel? she never gets mad at anyone and you managed to piss her off in, what, 15 minutes?” joel took the berating with a seemingly bored expression, but he’d also wondered if his crass attitude had gone too far when he last spoke to her.

it was just that damn smile.

he didn’t even know why it effected him so much, but he couldn’t help it - every time he saw that damn smile, he couldn’t think about anything else but it.

it was a distraction - and that’s why it annoyed him, he was sure. but, a part of him seemed almost scared at the effect she had on him, but that part was not something he’d be addressing anytime soon.

besides, he hadn’t really had to see it much after that, as she’d gone out of her way to not only avoid him, but to make her expression neutral should his paths crossed. and, well, though he felt like a bit of a dick, he though that would have been the end of it.

until he realized that he missed it.

they didn’t speak for the next few months. they hadn’t spoken before, either, but maybe it felt a little weirder considering they’d practically felt each up against a wall previously. though, she didn’t let the strange hiccup deter her from her work - or her smile, continuing to do so in every opportunity that she could.

her and tommy still spoke, and him - being obviously the more emotionally intelligent brother - didn’t even really bring up joel all that much in their conversation. she’d always felt a wave of memory hit her whenever she waited in that alleyway, but she never had time to dwell on it as, contrary to his brother, tommy was always on time.

she had finally returned to that state of comfort that she had felt when beth was still alive, in no part helped by her recent friendships with a neighbor or two. there was an older man in the building across from her, who was very sweet - finding a small joy by gardening, of all things. he had just the smallest pot with a sunflower growing in it, but he had cherished it like it was his baby. she had thought that it was beautiful, and though she felt that the weather always seemed a little cloudy and grey, she found a new appreciation for the sunlight that was there when she’d see the sunflower greedily soaking it up, standing proud, through the crack in her neighbor’s door.

life had been so incredibly decent, that she had forgotten it was simply a calm before a storm, just as her friendship with beth had been.

it had started in the middle of the night. one of the many smugglers in the q.z. had been infected on a run - not wanting to give himself up to his companions, and sneaking back in under the shadow of night.

that group was the first to go, and by the next day, she was woken up to the sound of blaring FEDRA alarms, jolting up so hard that she hit her shin. she paused for just the slightest of moments, trying to comprehend what was being said.

“-infected in the quarantine zone-” was all she had to hear to leap to her feet, grabbing the bag that always sat by the edge of her bed, and immediately grabbing anything and everything that she could. when she finally through her door open, she realized that she was late to the party, as all of those in her building had already deserted it.

she could barely step out of the building when she heard the heavy gunfire. considering the resources FEDRA had put into this q.z. they evidently refused to go out without a fight, and as she looked at the other side of the street, she could see a small group of them, evident by their pale faces and slightly jagged movements, mouth’s curled to create those inhumane growls. she stumbles just slightly, ducking behind her building in order to escape their view. she knew of an exit that wasn’t going to be FEDRA monitored on the other side of the q.z., but she knew that journey was dangerous at best right now.

she moved slowly, relying on small spaces between buildings and back alleys in order to move. she could hear screams - human and infected - and incessant gunfire, making her ears ring.

she was so close to getting out of here, only having to cross the large expanse between FEDRA and the infected. it was risky - and that was putting lightly, but there wasn’t really another way out of here.

she slung her bag as comfortably as she could, seeing a small blockade in the middle that she could duck under before booking it the rest of the way.

so, she ran.

and she made it to the blockade, uninjured. the bullets had whizzed around her, and she wondered if she’d make it another time. she caught her breath, and turned her head to gauge the rest of the distance.

when she did, though, she saw her neighbor - her eyes widening - as she realized that he was attempting something similar to her. time practically slowed down as she heard the exact bullet that would hit him, making him crumple to his knees.

her inhibitions practically disappear, as she forgets everything, running forward without care in order to see if she could help him. the bullet had hit his chest, and his breathing labored as she pulled him up just lightly, mumbling anything and everything she could to console him through his pain.

she couldn’t do this again - she couldn’t see someone else she cared about dead. this time, at least, she had the opportunity to help, so she would regardless of the negative consequences for herself.

then again, that is what many who don’t realize the consequences would say.

they was so close to being out of their range, but one of the stray bullet pierced her thigh as she attempted to help him his up. her knees buckle, the searing pain hitting her after a moment of just nothing, and she feels her grip on him dissolve, the both of them falling.

she keeled over him, taking off her sweater and wrapping it around her thigh, before turning to him, having to crawl slightly forward with her limp leg in order to properly look at him.

she could see it - she could see him dying, his labored breathing nothing more than a prolonging of the inevitable. nonetheless, she scrunched up the fabric in that area, desperately attempting to stop the bleeding, but it was too little, too late. he suddenly grabbed her wrist, something she felt before she saw, as the tears welling in her eyes were detrimental to her vision.

“my - my flower, did you see it?” she nods, she nods so hard that she feels her head’ll fall off.

“’f course, of course - it was so pretty - the best thing in the building.” she was rambling, hoping to remind of something happier than his current predicament. but she didn’t need to. the recognition for his hard work had been more than enough, and she felt his sighs become longer and deeper, before his stopped moving altogether.

she brought her hands to her face, desperately trying to control her tears, but they just wouldn’t stop. futilely, she crawled up against one of the buildings, knowing that she’d suffer the same fate, as when she attempted to place even the slightest pressure on her thigh, she had to muffle her screams of pain in her hand.

when she hears her name being called, she’s sure she’s misheard it, keeping her head down, and continuing to wipe her eyes.

but, she hears it more clearly, and she knows it wasn’t her imagination anymore, so she looks up, and sees joel looking down at her with the most severe look of concern he’d ever exhibited in front of her.

“jesus - what-” as he approaches her, he sees the makeshift bandage on her thigh, and the glossy tears on her face, “you got-” he can’t finish the sentence, and she nods almost a little pathetically. he gives her a quick once over, before grabbing her bag and slinging it over his larger shoulders, making it seem very small. her mouth falls open, believing he’d taken it in order to scavenge supplies off a dying body. her breathing falters at the inhumanity of the actions, before she feels his arms encapsulate her frame: one behind her back and one under her knees, “you can’t walk, can you?” the shock renders her speechless, so she opts to nod instead, and he tightens his grip on her slightly.

it’s an odd sensation, being lifted off of the ground, especially since she’d never felt it before. her thigh strained slightly against gravity, making her exhale deeply, a hiccup remaining as a remnant of her sobs, but she knew this pain was still far more bearable than her attempting to walk.

“put your arms-” she realizes that he’s still talking to her, using the minimal movement his head was now capable of to help her put her arms around his neck, taking some weight off of his forearms. she obliges, tentatively wrapping her arms over, before turning her head slightly forward and seeing the body of her dead neighbor just a few meters away.

she chokes for a moment, a mix of a gasp and a cry escaping her - and it flusters joel, making to him turn his head slightly as well, upon recognizing what she was looking at, he sighed. the heartbroken expression on her face made even him upset, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to soothe her.

“just - damn - just keep your eyes on me, okay? you don’t have to see all that.” she looks up at him, shocked by the sweetness of the comment, before nodding slightly, breathing quickly to calm her tears. he begins moving, and she sticks to his word, alternating between looking up at him, and resting her head by instead looking at the flannel he had on. when she would look at his face, she could see the tinge of worry breaking through his stoic exterior, as he attempted to keep moving despite his somewhat debilitating cargo - her. she’d wince when he’d turn too sharply, or jolt to a stop, and though she attempted to keep her winces and whimpers to a minimum, his brows would furrow each time in worry, and he would glance down at her to make sure the pain wasn’t too bad.

he’d begin shouting tommy’s name at some point, and though it took only another 5 minutes for him to rejoin his brother, it had felt like an agonizing eternity to joel. tommy stood shocked at the scene: he cared for her, but he didn’t know joel did. at least, not enough to carry her across the q.z., by any means.

“what the hell? is she-”

“shot, her thigh. we gotta get out of here - is the tunnel open?” tommy, still a bit shocked, nods, mouth hanging open, as he opened the door of the building they were standing in front of. there three of them - two, she supposed, with her in tow - made their way up to the third floor, and tommy practically kicked open one of the apartment doors. it wasn’t difficult - its previous owner had obviously left in a hurry as well. he bolts to the other side of the room, as she takes one arm off joel’s shoulder to slam the door shut behind him. a great creaking came from in front of her, and she craned her neck to see tommy moving several loose floorboards, and opening up a heavy metal hatch with a distinct, grinding pop under them. he holds it open as joel and her near it, and, when their standing in front of it, she realizes the tunnel is about 2 meters deep - maybe a little less - with a short ladder allowing easy movement.

joel worries it’s far too large a fall for her. he sets her back to her feet as gently as possible, and she immediately places as little weight on one of her legs as possible.

“here, hold her.” he takes her my her arm, resting most of her body weight on him, and helps her over to tommy, who keeps her steady with one hand as he holds the hatch open with the other. joel’s quick to scale down the ladder, before he turns his head up to look at the both of them, “you’re gonna have to jump.” her eyes widened at the idea, not believing that she’d get off the ground, much less survive the jump.

“i-what?” joel holds his hands out, and when her eyes flick up to tommy, he nods solemnly - as it was their only option.

“i’ve got ya.” she breathes deeply, squaring her shoulders, before lowering as softly as she can to her feet. as she dangles her thigh over the edge, it squeezes it, and she lets out a sharp cry that make’s both brothers wince. she uses her hands to lever her body forward, before she closes her eyes, her breath stilling.

then, she jumps, and the moment of free-fall consumes her, her body feeling as though she’s floating. and, as quickly as it occurs, it stops, when she feels joel’s arms wrap around her lower back, effectively breaking her fall before she hit the hard dirt. she uses her hands to stabilize herself when he sets her down, clutching far too tightly onto his shirt, feeling as though she was still falling. he reciprocates, sensing her obvious worry, and pulls her close to his torso, letting her ease her breathing. in a few more moments, tommy’s managed to cover up the majority of the entrance and come down. he takes her bag off joel’s shoulders.

“want me to help her?” he offers, not exactly sure how long his brother had been carrying her, but knowing that a break may have been appreciated either way.

“i’ve got her.” it’s a sharp response, and it makes tommy furrow his eyebrows, confused by the tone. he doesn’t dwell on it, though, as joel’s picked her up again, and she’s buried her face into the crook between her and his chest.

it was a long trip through the long tunnel, but, when tommy finally opened the latch on the other side, she greedily looked up at the sun for the first time that cloudy morning, so enthusiastic that when she next blinked, she could see sun spots.

it’s just a short walk from there to one of the many houses that smugglers camped in overnight on longer trips. it was a bit dingy - but at least decently clean. the last time joel had been here, smashed glass from beer bottles had littered the floor, as did some rotting food.

there was only a couch and a bed, and joel sets her down on the couch as tommy checks their inventory.

they’re ridiculously low on supplies: enough food for only one meal, and neither enough weapons, ammo or supplies in the case of an unexpected visitor.

“shit - i’ll go over to c.v.s., see if they have anything.” there was a rundown c.v.s. just a short walk from this house that had been practically stripped by the time tommy and joel had first come by it. they’d, therefore, found it to be a perfect place to stash some supplies, as many would refuse to look too far upon seeing the initial emptiness, assuming that it had been picked clean. joel doesn’t even acknowledge the sentence until he hears the door click shut.

he’s looking down at her haggard form, and, seeing that her sweater had practically soaked through in blood, he reaches for their first aid.

at least the blood was a bit old, the pressure on the wound stopping the majority of the bleeding. joel grabs the crude tweezers, stretching them so that they could comfortably pluck out the bullet lodged in her flesh. she can see the dead expression on her face, showing her obvious disassociation from her painful sensation. a pillow still remained on the couch - shockingly - so he handed it to her, instructing her to bite down on it to forget some of the pain.

she looks at him with renewed worry, unsure of how decent an anesthetic biting would be. he places his palm lightly on the knee of her injured leg, hoping to keep it in place, as he removes the sweater. the wound made her gasp, the flesh having been mangled lightly due to the rough conditions. he lifted her chin up, urging her to instead look at the ceiling. her eyes flutter, and she can feel tears glass over her eyes when she feels the metal of the tweezers ever so lightly graze her skin.

“i’m - i’ve gotta take it out, okay?” she doesn’t nod, but she doesn’t protest either, so he takes it she understands, and he lightly pulls at the skin to make the wound larger, in order to more quickly pluck out the bullet. she whimpers around the pillow, biting hard already, and he lowers the tweezers.

she can feel them inside her skin, and she uses her hands to squeeze the pillow as well, her screams becoming more distinct, loud.

“you’re good, you’re good, you’re doing good-” joel doesn’t even know how to console someone, but he tries his level best, praising her endlessly as he swiftly, but meticulously pulls out the bullet. the blood restarts, practically spurting out of her leg, and she can feel the liquid over her skin, weaving around her hair follicles as she desperately attempted to keep her leg still. he places a cloth over it, before replacing it with gauze immediately, allowing the material to soak up the blood. the pain still consumed her, but it turned from sharp to more dull. she drops the pillow, along with her hands. they were both panting, but their breathing slowed, as they realized that the stress was less in that moment. he keeps a firm hand on her thigh, and she lets her head drop against the couch.

in another few minutes, he reminds her that he still needs to stitch her up. it hurt like a bitch too, but nothing trumped the feeling of the bullet leaving her body. he made swift work of the procedure, and she wondered how many times he’d had to do it.

when he’d finished, he lowered his arms, breathing a deep, relieved, and contemplative sigh as he sat back a little, taking weight off of his own legs. though her leg was stitched up, she was fully against the idea of getting up, so she relegated herself to getting comfortable on the couch. joel also got up after another few moments, placing the first aid back in her bag, before taking a look around the house - seeing if any previous visitors had forgotten any supplies.

they had, as an unopened ziplock of crackers sat in one of the kitchen cabinets. it hadn’t been here last month when they’d previously stopped by, and the opened the container, inspecting it carefully to see if it was alright to eat. he took a small bite and, determining that it was alright, he walked back over to the couch.

she had lightly adjusted to the side as he had neared, so he relaxed into the cushion next to her, trying not to invade her space. he handed her a cracker, which she graciously accepted. she hadn’t realized how hungry she was, not having eaten since the previous night.

“it’ll make you feel better,” he’d mumbled, as he handed it to her, and she breathed a quiet thank you in response. they sit in a silence only broken by the crunching of the crackers, and she finds herself ever so subtly glancing at the man next to her.

he looked tired, which was understandable, and his hard expression remained on his face. the severity of it reminded her of their only prolonged conversation - which was truly more of an argument.

“why - why did you help me?” it’d been a question plaguing her since he had so delicately patched her up - a far cry from the man who had condemned her for as little as smiling.

his brow furrows at the question, as he’d not been accepting it.

“what? you were bleeding out on the street - i couldn’t just leave you.” she let the explanation mull in her head, before shaking it.

“no - so many people were like that, but you only helped me. why?” he turned his body just slightly to face her, a bewildered expression on his face.

“did you not want me to?” she immediately protests.

“no! i mean - i’m grateful. honestly, i’d have been dead hours ago had it not been for you. it’s just-” suddenly, his stare felt too intense, and she averted her eyes, “you always gave off the impression that you didn’t like me.” she shrugs, hoping it’s a sufficient explanation. it seems to be, as he goes silent. then, he breathes deeply.

“i do - i do. tommy likes you, so i’ll like you.” it’s a diplomatic answer, and she realizes it, but she decides to nod instead of probing further.

“alright, well - thank you.” she goes to smile, but stops herself, “i’m allowed to smile, yeah?” she means it as a half-joke, but he finds a lot of amusement in it, looking at her quizzically, before laughing at the comment. she’d never even seen him crack a smile, much less a laugh.

it was a nice change of pace.

“please do. you haven’t done it since morning - i was starting to get concerned.” though her previous smile may have been one of politeness, this one comes from the sarcastic nature of the comment.

the quirk of her lips gave him some peace, his mind having been racing with worry over her for the past few hours. maybe it was distracting, but he supposed everyone needs a little bit of that.

and if it comes in the form of a pretty smile - even better.

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us hbo #the last of us #that damn smile #pedro pascal

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