#but because of that its also emotionally taxing to work on
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for a writer, i sure do make a lot of incomprehensible posts on here 💀
#dreamties rambles#not slasher related#writing that one multi chapter fic rn but its hard to decide how much of myself and experiences i feel comfortable putting into it- yknow?#first and foremost this story is for me <333#its therapeutic and is honestly helping with some of the trauma its about#but because of that its also emotionally taxing to work on#ANYWAYS#that was all very totally completely unrelated to the actual content of this post lmao
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence
Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)
A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.
As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀
I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️
——————
Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.
One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.
Ellie and Y/n.
Stay awake.
Men coming.
Leading them away.
Kill them.
The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.
Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.
They crept through the room.
He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.
Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.
After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.
Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.
—————————
Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.
She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.
David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.
“How is she?”
Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.
David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”
Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”
“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”
“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.
The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”
Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.
He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.
“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”
“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”
David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.
Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.
“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.
Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”
“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”
“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.
“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”
Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.
He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”
“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.
“But I stopped them.”
“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.
“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.
Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”
“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”
As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.
“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”
“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.
“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.
David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”
Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.
“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”
David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.
“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”
Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.
Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.
“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.
“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.
“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“
Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.
Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.
Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.
It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.
Mom.
Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.
And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.
“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”
David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.
Joel wasn’t coming to save them.
They were on their own.
And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.
————————————
Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.
But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.
Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.
“Stop…stop, please…”
Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.
“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.
“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.
“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”
Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.
“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.
“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”
The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.
The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”
When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.
“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”
“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.
“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.
Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.
“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”
Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”
Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”
Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.
Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.
“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”
There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.
Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.
Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.
“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.
Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.
“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”
“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”
In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.
He wasn’t the villain.
He was a father and a husband.
And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.
—————————
Ellie was relentless.
“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.
“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”
Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”
“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”
“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.
Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”
“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.
Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”
She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…
An ear.
An actual fucking ear.
In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.
David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”
Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.
“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.
“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”
Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.
“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.
“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”
She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.
“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”
“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.
“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.
“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”
“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.
“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.
“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”
Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.
“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”
Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.
“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.
“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”
Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.
“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”
“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”
“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”
Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.
But this wasn’t her opportunity.
“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.
“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”
Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.
“What about our friend?”
“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”
Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.
“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”
“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”
It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.
“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”
David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.
“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”
Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.
“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”
David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…
“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.
Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.
Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.
“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”
Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.
“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.
David turned, “What?”
“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”
“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”
He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.
“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”
“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“
“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”
“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.
“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.
She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”
———————————
The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.
He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.
Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.
Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.
All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.
Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.
Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…
His stomach turned.
He had to fucking hurry.
—————————
David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.
“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.
David and James wrenched the two of them apart.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”
“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”
If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.
“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.
“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.
Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.
“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.
“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.
“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.
David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”
“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.
In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.
This was how it ended.
“I’M INFECTED!”
Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.
“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”
David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.
“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”
Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.
“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.
James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”
“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”
Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.
“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.
Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.
This was their opportunity.
Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.
Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.
Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.
The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.
“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”
“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”
As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.
“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”
While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.
“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”
Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.
She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.
It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.
————————
Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.
In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.
Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.
He couldn’t lose them.
—————————
“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”
Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.
“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”
Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.
“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”
Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.
“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”
Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…
“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”
In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.
Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.
David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.
Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.
With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.
Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.
The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.
Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.
With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.
David’s back was blissfully turned.
Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.
The flames were consuming the restaurant.
Y/n inched her way closer.
David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.
Ellie screamed louder.
Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.
Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.
The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.
When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.
Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.
The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.
They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.
“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.
“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.
Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.
“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.
Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.
“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”
Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.
Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.
“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.
Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.
“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”
Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.
After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.
“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.
Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.
Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.
But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.
—————————
That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.
Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.
All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.
Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.
As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.
Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.
Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.
——————
TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us imagine#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us spoilers#twenty years later
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s. reid with bau reader
summary: spencer dating someone who works at the bau
pairing: spencer reid x reader
wc: 337
warnings: mentions kidnapping
a/n: omg!! im sooo sorry for not posting, these last few weeks have been so hectic for me, even though its fall break ive been swamped. im going to write a few fics to hold down for a few days but after i might go ia due to school starting up again ! also! i will try my hardest to get to requests. reblogs and likes appreciated.
him bringing you coffee every morning
if you don't have a car like him, you take the subway together, he reads to you on the train ride back home after work
you probably kept your relationship strictly professional the first few years you worked there but slowly warmed up to him
takes your casework so you can have less
waits for you by your desk to finish your casework so you can leave together
holding hands and subconsciously playing footsies at the round table
hearing him go on all those random rants and never stopping him because you love them
falling asleep on/next to each other on the plane
playing solitaire or uno on the plane rides back home and being loud as hell
checking your for cuts or bruises after cases that go wrong
if anything ever happened to you like being kidnapped or hurt he would be a mess
trying very hard to get you back, even trying to find the unsub by himself
or pacing back in forth in the hospital waiting room after you got hurt and are in surgery
taking care of you when your better and being scared of you going back into the field
spending the few breaks you get each year together
him letting you meet his mother after 8-12 months of dating
having lunch together everyday at your desks
spending the night at each others houses after hard cases
comforting each other after emilys passing and after she came back
him reading to you on the plane to calm your mind and get you to sleep
getting close faster than normal couples since your always together
because of that you said 'i love you' 2-4 months in
fiddling with his hands, tracing all the veins and his finger nails to distract yourself
sitting at his bedside holding his hand when he was in the hospital for either getting shot or the anthrax attack
being a constant support system for one another for this emotionally taxing job
#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x afab!reader#matthew gray gulber imagine#spencer reid x y/n
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I know Duncan lives a very happy, supported, and fulfilled life - you take such good care of your pets and are really receptive to their needs! But my heart still twinges when I see him fall or twitch 🥺
Does that ever get easier for you? I've never been in the position to care for a disabled pet, but I can imagine that once you get to know their personalities and moods it goes from "oh poor little thing" to "this is normal and just how things are" pretty quickly.
It's hard seeing animals struggle, and it's actually a source of anxiety for me when I consider adopting a disabled pet myself. Like, I'm worried it would be really emotionally difficult to watch my pet fall over on their way to get attention every day, even if I knew they were fine and that was normal for them, yknow? I guess, have you found it gets easier when its your pet?
Also thanks for sharing these little guys' lives and answering questions! It's a joy to see them thriving and it's awesome to see what caring for animals with specific needs actually looks like!
I’m not gonna lie, Duncan can make me sad at times. I can tell he’s happy and he’s not uncomfortable but it’s sad in a way none of my other special needs cats have been for me. I feel bad that he isn’t ever going to be able to do the things a normal cat can do. However, I also trust myself to know when it’s time and to make the decision to euthanize. And I know if I wait too long Doc will let me know I’m being unfair to Duncan. That makes it easier.
All that sad stuff being said, it’s not like it’s something terrible that weighs on me everyday. Like you said, I see him every single day, so I recognize this as normal for him. Things like seizures are obviously always going to be awful to witness because it’s awful for him to have to go through that. But things like falling over? He doesn’t care, he’ll just get back up and try again.
Also! Don’t let severe cases like Duncan completely scare you off special needs pets. I’m not gonna lie, owning a cat like Duncan isn’t for everyone. He’s an unbelievable amount of work and he is far more emotionally taxing than the average cat. However, there are pets with special needs that aren’t nearly as extreme. As an example, Maccready was extremely easy to own in comparison. Speaking in regards to both the actual care but also the emotional aspects.
#ask#Duncan#he’s the most disabled cat I’ve ever owned#like all my other cats could basically still do normal cat things#also honestly none of my other cats ever really made me sad#like obviously yes when they passed but not on a day to day basis
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i hope u are having a nice day! can i request reaction of the brothers when MC does a painting of them?
I’m having a great day thanks! I hope you are too!
part 1- brother. Part 2- side characters
Brothers reaction to MC’s painting of them
Lucifer
He was impressed when he saw a semi-realistic bust of him on a canvas in your room on an easel
it was incredible, the colours melting together and a stunning blend between colours
he saw you asleep on your bed too- clearly painting that was taxing on you
he thinks it’s amazing and that you should receive recognition for your art
he tells you that it is incredible when you wake up, and gives you a snack and glass of water
He asks to have it, and if you say yes he will put it on his wall, and he takes lots of pride in it
Mammon
Mammon barges into your room in the early hours of the morning and sees you slumped over
he thinks you might be asleep, so he creeps to you but you call out his name and ask him why he’s being quiet for once
he blushes at that but somehow chokes out a snarky response
he then sees you putting brushstrokes on a canvas, the tone of his smooth skin in the light on your brush
you blend it onto his cheek, completing the illusion of flesh
but then after a moment of shocked silence at your skill
he stutters out ‘of- of course you’d want to draw the Great Mammon’
you giggle at this and tell him it’s his, for free
His face lights up and he tells you you are talented for a human
Leviathan
He wakes up from a night in your room watching anime to see you putting colour onto a portrait of him
he is in awe, and sits watching you for a while
he has never felt as beautiful as he did in that moment
he usually thinks himself as ugly, but in this… he is stunning. Is this how you see him?
his face is red at the thought that someone like you views him in the way you paint it
he cracks a smile and tells you that ‘it’s amazing. But I’d expect no less of my Henry’
he loves it and admired it often, especially when he is in a rut of self-hate
Satan
He compliments you when you present it to him
‘I must say this is an excellent piece of me, I’m impressed MC. You’re incredibly talented’
this is said with a growing grin on his face
he seems so different to the sketch of lucifer you did. You only drew him, does that mean you value him more. Unlike some of the others
he is enamoured by the colour choice and how you make him look ethereal
Asmodeus
He squeals in delight at the sight of a painting of a photo he posted to his devilgram
’MC! You never told me you were an artist! I swear you are the only one who can capture my beauty in all its glory!’
he will hang it up in an elaborate frame and boast to those he meets in there
and the brothers that you chose to paint him
he will constantly compliment your skills and commission you
he also finds it therapeutic to watch you paint, and could watch for hours on end
Beelzebub
Beel thinks it’s amazing, being stoic as he is, you didn’t expect as big of a reaction as you got
he dropped his food, his mouth fell open and his eyes opened
‘you drew that? Of me? Oh my Diavolo MC that’s beautiful’
he usually doesn’t speak so emotionally, but hey what he’s saying is good so you’ll take it!
he will ask to see your over pieces!
he thinks you can be a professional and takes a photo to post to his Devilgram, and to show his fangol team
Belphegor
When he falls asleep, you take out a pad and begin to sketch his calm face
you would do it when he’s awake but he always looks so… menacing when he’s awake
You occasionally glance up to him as you block in colours and begin to render (I don’t know if that’s the term for on like real paint because I do mainly digital now)
when his eyes flutter awake, he sees you with your tongue slightly protruding from your lips and putting a white brush stroke on the book
he asks to see it when you put the brush down
you gladly oblige, happy with your work
he seems amazed, but he is still tired so he lets out a drawl of
’that’s amazing, but… I’m still tired’
you know what he wants as stretches an arm so you crawl under it and fall asleep beside him
(lmao imagine the brothers reactions to MC drinking paint water. You can deny it but we’ve all done it)
#obey me shall we date#obey me#omswd#obey me lucifer#obey me x reader#obey me headcanons#obey me mammon#obey me satan#mammon x reader#obey me headcanon#obey me beelzebub#obey me imagines#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me satan x reader smut#obey me scenarios#obey me!#obey me brothers#obey me swd#lucifer x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#mammon#mammon avatar of greed#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan x mc#Leviathan#leviathan x reader#satan#satan x reader#asmodeus x reader
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This is Not a Review of In Stars and Time
Let us set the stage.
An entity known as The King has cast a horrible curse upon the land, freezing people in time. It's up to the Chosen One and her friends to save the day. After a long journey, the party arrives at the final town right before the final battle with the final boss. He awaits the heroes at the final castle which was once the house of worship to Change Themselves.
You, the player, are the second to last party member (who joined right before the cute mascot character) and you find yourself "blessed" with the symbolically relevant ability to loop in time - which you discovered after being suddenly crushed to death by a big rock with a sense for dramatic irony.
Now, admittedly, the prospect of dealing with Groundhog Day related shenanigans might seem daunting, at first. Dare I say, it might even be emotionally and psychologically taxing, in the long run. However, do not panic! A volunteering social worker has already been sent to "assist" you with your predicament. You can trust them completely.
Now that we have dispensed with the formalities, let's get down to business to defeat The King. Use your newfound powers to help your friends navigate the castle, climb the floors, overcome the obstacles. Be ready to repeat all that several more times. You know the drill. Perhaps, if you do everything right, your buff boyfriend will finally confess his feelings to you.
Wouldn't that be swell?
Wouldn't it?
It would be nice.
It sure would.
...
There will be no additional plot synopsis, at this time.
As I type these few words of appetizing anticipation, I find myself in a predicament of my own: I played In Stars and Time and now I have to talk about it.
I have many emotions swirling, dancing incoherently within the very fabric of my being. Feelings that I must convey to you before The Moment passes, you see. I'm not sure I can, though. I'm not sure I can steel my trembling hands for long enough to wax poetically about this being, without hyperbole, one of the best games I played in the past decade. A masterpiece with many juicy layers waiting to be peeled back, one by one. I don't have the energy to write the monstrous essay it deserves for all I want to do is sit in a corner and weep quietly for a few hours, trying to process it all. I'm sad not because it's over but because I can't experience it for the first time ever again. Which is an ironic statement considering the nature of this game, I realize.
Allow me to try this again.
Let us set the stage.
In Stars and Time is is a cleverly designed title. The time loop structure works both as a gameplay and thematic device, a means to (purposefully) emphasize the monotonous nature of the RPG grind in relation to the protagonist's deteriorating state, cycle after cycle, play after play. You have your classic meta-textual musings about video games as well as a legitimately gripping tale filled with many twists and turns, good use of symbolism, salient points to make about Trauma and its effect on one's memory, the Fear of Change versus the necessity of it, and Depression. It all comes together by the end in a subjectively satisfying manner and...
...
And...
...
...I have to stop myself.
I'm reducing this deeply personal experience to a mere "review" and that's not what I'm here to do.
I don't know what I'm here to do.
Frankly, there are themes in this game I am not equipped to discuss, such as its intensely felt (and horrifyingly topical) commentary about Diaspora, the shared trauma of cultural displacement, a people fading away from memory like stars in the sky. That kind of analysis would be too much for a simple "review." if this were to be one, I would praise the game for being the best possible version of itself, the best version of a Time Loop story. One that perfectly applies the narrative tropes of the genre to its gameplay, narrative, all that jazz.
I would also state that it didn't reinvent the wheel of "Indie Gaming" and I could feel inclined to make obligatory comparisons to That One Game because that's the unfair standard by which everything MUST abide!
No, I shall not do that.
I need to rethink my approach. I am going to take a small break. In the meantime, please enjoy these unrelated GIF files of Christopher Lloyd from Toonstruck that I have lying around on the floor.
I had dinner with the family. It was a small, daily reminder that I am loved unconditionally. That I deserve it. Something that is immensely easy to forget. The meal was tastier than usual.
...
Back to it.
This is the brutally simple truth of the matter: there is a lot to love about In Stars and Time, with its writing, design choices, characters, nuances, big feelings. It has the potential to be a massive crowd pleaser and it would be well-deserved. It's got explicitly gay lore, as well!
In case I didn't make it abundantly clear, this game is 100% queer. Every aspect of it, from the characters and the world they inhabit to the culture and its history, is built from the ground up as a queer utopia.
You might recall, all the way to the first paragraph of this long-winded, amorphous ramble, I mentioned something about Change with a capital C. That is because the very concept of Change has been deified, becoming the base of a whole religion: an extremely inclusive, open-minded, progressive community that celebrates life in all its multi-faceted forms. A significant portion of its foundation is the magical technique of "Body Craft" which allows the user to literally transform their physical appearance into their preferred shape, one that better reflects who they are. Children are given many names, both male and female, for the purpose of facilitating their own change, should it occur. Literal and figurative transience lies at the heart of this belief system, meaning that about half the population is trans/non-binary, and queerness is normalcy. As a side note, I want to live in this world.
Change is viewed as positive, in other words. In light of that, the arrival of a hostile entity with the power to simply stop all of existence from ever progressing by freezing everyone in place might seem like an easy metaphor to read.
I assure you, the game is eager for you to make that assumption.
As I mentioned earlier, this story tackles Depression and it doesn't pull its punches when it comes to portray the more "inconvenient" aspects of living with crippling self-esteem issues. That's when the game became a masterpiece to me. I resonated with Siffrin (He/They), the protagonist.
That's you!
Their struggle to navigate the constant torment of the loop is paralleled with their increasing mental and emotional instability. Intrusive thoughts overpowering their head, saying he will never be loved, that he's toxic and manipulative. There's the all too familiar frustration of not being understood by others despite not having tried to explain how you really feel to them, trapped as you are in your own head. Big issues are equated to "small" issues. I relate with most of this.
Through the Time Loop allegory, In Stars and Time captures the Kafkian Horror of existing as a neurodivergent person who gets in the way of their own happiness. It's isolating, drives a barrier between your loved ones, makes you lose touch with reality. Sometimes you have good days, sometimes you have bad days. Everything eventually blends together in a sickening routine until you either drown or you start swimming furiously.
Then the cycle repeats.
It's too much.
You cannot do it alone.
You are not alone.
Let them in.
Let yourself be loved.
That is, in essence, the reason why I think so highly of this title. I related with the story and characters. Yes, it all comes down to the most obvious thesis statement in the universe. Yes, I probably didn't need to write so much about it but, regardless, I'm glad I did.
I poured my feelings towards an Object D'Art onto figurative paper as I was processing them, doing away with any pseudo-intellectual vernacular in order to get to the soul of the matter. I expressed my emotions and I feel better for having done so. Now, I can move on.
All that is left to do is to recommend the game.
...
Go play In Stars and Time, I recommend it. It's good.
...
That's about it.
...
You're still here.
...
......
..............
Go away, stupid!
---
A/N:
Thank you for reading this rather personal piece. The article was extrapolated from a thread I wrote down on the subject. You can read that here. I also typed about the official prologue to the game, Start Again, which you can view here.
As a reminder, I have a YouTube channel.
In Stars and Time was developed by Adrienne Bazir. Follow them on Twitter, Tumblr and Itch.io.
Tell the people in your life how much they mean to you, and have a good day.
#Madhog thy Master#in stars and time#rpg#time loop#groundhog day#steam#nintendo switch#ps4#ps5#itch.io#depression#lgbtq+#trans#non-binary protagonist#nb#queer#trauma#diaspora#not a review#gaming#indie game#goty#undertale#neurodivergent
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Excuse me, ✨The Amazing Madam Nisha✨ but I would like to send in a request. I would like Tamaki, Tsuyu, and Eraserhead with a GN reader (platonic) that has a similar personality to Hu Tao because my girl deserves better. Also her is cake for your hard work 🎂
My Hero Academia with Hu Tao! Reader (Platonic)
A/N: Hallo! Thank you for the cake ^^ I hope u enjoy this!
Genre: Fluff
GN! Reader
Warning: Mention of dead people (nothing graphic)
Character building!! Your quirk lets you summon a sentient ghost buddy (It’s similar to Dark Shadow.) that for some reason has fire powers, you speculate that its a demon, but who are you to judge really.
Another thing about your quirk is it lets you see the memories of dead people when you touch their corpse. Kinda creepy, I know.
Your family runs a funeral parlour, so your whole life you’ve been exposed to the notion of life and death, and you’ve long ago removed that fear in you. Human lives are meant to end one way or another, But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming of being a hero, so that even for a few more years, those people can live their lives and die of natural causes and not of evil doings.
You’re a very cheerful person albeit your fascination with death, which drives some people crazy when you go up to offer them coupons for your family’s business. But hey, who can blame you? Business is business.
Tamaki Amajiki
You’re one of the Big 3, well, now known as the Big 4 along with Mirio and Nejire. Your quirk has been helpful with lots of murder investigations, and you’ve trained your ghost buddy with controlling its fire.
Tamaki at first was scared of you, I mean, you did offer him a coupon for a coffin one time when he was to be deployed on a mission.
But he later realised that it's just a personality of yours, and got used to you.
Whenever he has his panic attacks, you’d let your little ghost buddy out for Tamaki to play with as a form of calming himself.
He sometimes gets scared when the Big 4 hangs out and Nejire asks about your missions, because most of the time, you’re deployed to help solve murder cases. And that’s not entirely a fun topic.
But overall, Tamaki is glad to have a friend like you, who shows they case in even the weirdest ways.
Tsuyu Asui
You’re one of class 1-A’s top fighters, along with Bakugo, Todoroki, and Midoriya.
Tsuyu is a naturally friendly person, so she was able to befriend you right away, and you earned yourself a place with the Deku Squad.
She does get a bit creeped out when you offer up coupons and promos, but she’s there to pull you away from possibly angering or creeping out anyone else with your antics.
She knows you’re a very dependable friend though, and goes to you for advice whenever she has a problem.
You also come to her whenever missions get taxing, sure, you’re used to the face of death, but it’s still a whole new can of worms to be sent out to missions where you know you’ll see bodies, some more gory than others.
When days like that come, she’ll be there to help you through them and get you back to your ever so energetically weird self.
Aizawa Shouta
You’re his student, and with the rise of Nomu cases, your quirk has been in demand to help solve it.
Being able to see the memories of dead people helped with solving many murder cases, so naturally, they’d wanna see how your quirk works on the Nomus.
Aizawa at first was against this, I mean, this was emotionally draining even for someone like you.
But you assured him that this was a way to properly give justice to the poor souls who suffered.
So he’ll let you, but will be with you when you do it.
He knows you’re dependable and strong, and he admires your resilience.
He’s also another one to wrangle you up before you cause trouble with your ways of promoting the funeral business.
He’d do everything to protect your cheerful energy, he’d hate to see that light of yours grow dim.
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#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#Tamaki Amajiki#Tamaki Amajiki x reader#tyusu asui#tsuyu asui x reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa shouta x reader#my hero academia fic#my hero academia headcanon#genshin impact hu tao
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hi, I have a question: for context, theres the tumblr blog "writingwithcolor" for giving advice on how to represent poc. They got an ask from someone wanting to write historical fiction with ppl from medieval Europe and the middle east interacting, asking how to include the negative opinions the cultures had of each other: the ME seeing Europe as "dirty and uncivilized " while Europe saw the ME as effeminate, so they asked how to include these opinions without demonizing either culture.
They asked: "They asked "Do you have any advice on including these views in a narrative without validating the idea of Europeans as the 'victims' or without unnecessarily juxtaposing the more-advanced middle east in the middle of a golden age with their less advanced European neighbors"
The reply they got was basically "actually, the Europeans were stinky barbarians". They stated "one of these regions thought diseases could be cured by blood-letting and huffing toilets while the other was inventing algebra It’s difficult to argue that Europe was doing well by any metric after the collapse of the Roman Empire. "
They gave examples of other cultures being "light years ahead" of Europe, such as the Moors "revitalizing Spanish and Sicilian civilization through agriculture, architecture, astronomy and restoration of Roman sanitation systems", king Mansa Musa giving out so much gold he destroyed the local economy and the giant junks of the majapahit empire as examples of non-european civilizations outdoing Europe. They implied that anyone objecting to Europe being portrayed badly has "white fragility".
What is your opinion on this response? Is it fair to Europe to portray them as inferior?
Oh, I've seen that question and response. I think I've even replied to it. It's bad. It's bad because, as a post I reblogged earlier today says, historical accuracy matters. Also, it seems to play the sort of zero-sum game that I see elsewhere on the internet, which wants to gleefully reverse old and oppressive narratives... only to create new narratives with new acceptable categories of exclusion. Do I think that more attention in secondary and post-secondary education should be given to premodern societies around the globe? of course! I teach premodern global history all the time! But here's my bigger problem with this sort of "Europe bad and backwards" sneering, even bigger than the "it's wrong" problem.
This sort of measurement of societies "outdoing" each other is based on Eurocentric categories which were and are used to uphold white supremacy, colonialism, classism, and ableism. I alluded to this in an earlier exchange with you. To say that a society (I'm deliberately avoiding the term civilization) is automatically "superior" or "more advanced" when it has certain kinds of technology, or certain kinds of social and political organization, or certain kinds/degrees of wealth, or certain kinds of literacy, or certain kinds of religious belief (or lack thereof)? That is an imperialist script! Because this is Tumblr, the Negative Reading Comprehension Site: I'm obviously not accusing people who are doing a lot of emotionally taxing and important work of deliberately reinforcing imperialist (etc.) scripts. But reiterating inaccurate stereotypes based on Vibes/Wishful Thinking is bad no matter who does it!
Please reflect on the narrative of "the replacement of a multi-continental empire with decentralized political and legal structures was obviously Terrible" and on why, exactly, that was easily accepted when Edward Gibbon was writing his Decline and Fall... in late 18th-century Britain. Yeah. Also, that "more advanced Middle East" narrative has a history that is Orientalist and othering in its own way (ooh, all that exotic learning! the baths! the gardens!) It assumes, for one thing, that there's no contact and exchange between the Umayyad and Abbasid caliphates ("Moors" is a racist term, by the way) and their neighbors. If the representation you've given is accurate, it also follows old/outdated scholarship in representing Spain as somehow not quite European because of all the Muslims in it/ruling it, which... yikes. And, at the risk of pointing out the very obvious: ancient Rome, whose art and literature and 'civilization' were so long so admired in Europe, was a slave society. I'm not going to wring my hands about its disputed fall.
#history side of tumblr#asks and answers#bad medievalism bingo#we're here we're queer we're teaching the gen ed survey and we're very tired#medieval history#racism
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Shutterbug
[That photographer Dew AU I mentioned from last night. The origins of Dew's hobby and his first encounter with something... strange. Dew joins Ghost on tour as a guitar tech only to uncover the band's gimmick is more than meets the eye. Not suitable for younger audiences.] Below the cut.
He supposes it started when he was young, maybe eight or so; Dew's father had purchased a new camera and had, on a whim, gifted his old one to his son, assuming the boy would fiddle with it for a time and then do as he often did with old, broken things and take it apart to better understand how it worked.
Instead, something had awoken in him the moment he held that old camera in his hands.
The weight of it slung around his neck had felt comforting, familiar, like it was always meant to be there, and something about viewing the world through its lens had lit a fire in his chest.
Dew had been small for his age, and failed attempts at enrolling him in various sports activities had proven... emotionally scarring if not also physically.
So a hobby that got him to go outside didn't seem all that bad, especially not to his parents, who had made it no secret that their marriage was falling apart, and that, perhaps, having something to do away from home while they sorted out the details of their impending divorce would be a good idea.
And, indeed, photography had been an excellent escape for Dew.
But over time Dew's outdoor adventures, taking pictures of wild growing daisies and frogs by the creek in the woods behind his house, would be replaced with other interests and hobbies that kept him locked up in his bedroom for hours on end.
Music may not have been his first love, but it was his greatest, and his desire to engage with it on all levels had thoroughly trumped his desire to trek through fields of tall grass in the early morning to capture pictures of the sunset in the park across from the small apartment his father had moved into when his parents finally did separate.
His camera would make its home in a shoebox in his childhood bedroom at his mother's house, buried under a haphazardly sewn quilt made of old band t-shirts and a box of action figures and other bits and bobs he'd cast aside as he grew up.
So why, after so long, was he yearning to hold that dusty old thing again?
Well, like so many others, Dew had fell into the trap known as nostalgia as he was cleaning his room.
He'd come to visit his mother for a short period of time, preparing to go on the road with a touring band as a guitar tech, and something had drawn him upstairs to his old bedroom despite having made his bed on the couch in the living room.
The upstairs of the house had been largely untouched for years now, his mother having moved into the room that had once been his parents' home office after a bad fall had left her with a prominent limp that made walking, let alone climbing the stairs, quite taxing.
Normally, he wouldn't bother going up there at all during his visits, wanting to stay on the same floor as his mother just in case she needed his help grabbing something, or if she called out to him because she was cold and needed another blanket, or simply wanted to be parked by the window to watch the birds... but it was late, and the older woman had long since gone to bed.
There had been an itch.
A desire to immerse himself in his past, if only for a moment, to pick through bits and pieces of his childhood so he might feel at least a little homesick while on the road.
To feel like he had something to miss while he was away, and not the other way around, as he had come to see hotel rooms and crowded tour buses and vans more like home than his real one.
Stepping into his bedroom after all those years had felt like opening a tomb, and he had treated it as such up until he realized, as if having completely forgotten, that it was his bedroom and he needn't be so cautious or respectful with the things left inside of it.
He'd flopped down on his old bed and found the sheets smelling a little dusty, but otherwise clean, and stared up at his ceiling, at the glow in the dark stars littered across his ceiling, at the stickers plastered over the blades of his ceiling fan...
Closing his eyes, he breathed in the room.
And with that, he'd sat up and gotten to exploring.
His closet was the last place he looked through, for no reason in particular other than that it was easier to explore everything that was left out in the open first before opening the door, but the moment he did, he felt that itch again.
Stronger now, urging him to reach for the pile on the top shelf -ignoring the large, padlocked chest on he floor, which he knew was full of "contraband" he preferred not to unpack at the moment- and reach he did...
"Aw, shit-"
...spilling everything onto the floor with a loud thud that he prayed his mother couldn't hear from the other side of the house.
And there, mixed in with his ninja turtles and matchbox cars, on sat on top of the pile unscathed, was his camera.
.
.
.
"God, my fuckin' dick is going to freeze off if we have to stand around waiting for the bus another goddamn minute..." Alpha bitches, gritting his teeth and hissing as another cold breeze weaves through the gathered band members and crew.
He's been complaining ever since the got off the plane, and while Dew understands his displeasure, he's trying to make the most of his time, occupying himself by fidgeting with his camera, making sure nothing had broken during travel.
"Say 'cheese', bitch." He says, aiming the camera off to the side and clicking the shutter button, earning a startled yelp from the lead guitarist as the flash goes off.
"If my hands weren't so cold, I would strangle you." the other man threatens, prompting Dew to stick out his tongue, "You little brat-"
"Al, lighten up a little, if you're so cold, come stand next to me," Omega huffs shaking his head at the others' antics, opening his coat slightly so Alpha can shuffle inside, "and, Dew, don't rile him up, it's too early."
"Sorry, Meg." Dew apologizes, then, in a moment of either bravery or stupidity, raises his camera again and snaps a picture of the two men huddling together.
"Dew-"
"It's for my scrapbook!"
Omega sighs, and rests his chin on top of Alpha's head, swaying them both back and forth to soothe the seething guitarist in his grasp, "I'm starting to wonder what sort of scrapbook you're making, considering the pictures you've taken so far..."
Dew gives a devilish grin, recalling some of the more scandalous photos he'd taken during the tour thus far, photos he couldn't wait to have developed in the dark room he'd thrown together in the second bathroom of his apartment...
The one that comes to mind first is one he's particularly proud of, considering grabbing the camera had been an after thought, but the image of Omega getting absolutely dominated by Mist had been too delicious to pass up, even if he had had to crawl to retrieve it because of how jello-like his legs had become thanks to the man currently having to be rocked like a cranky infant.
"Those images are strictly for the spank bank." he says, turning his camera towards Mist, who shoots him a smile, posing a bit, "My scrapbook's for... I dunno, I haven't really settled on a theme yet, but so far it's mostly pictures of truck stops and food."
"I was wondering why you were taking glamour shots of your microwave breakfast sandwich..." Omega hums, "How can you tell how the pictures are going to come out?"
"Just have to wait and see." Dew shrugs, "I can check the ones on my other camera since it's digital, but half the fun of using film is waiting for the results."
"Ever capture any ghost pics?" Mist asks, rolling her eyes when Dew gestures broadly at them all, "Not us, you nerd, I mean, like, paranormal activity style shit."
Dew thinks for a moment, "Hn... Uh, well, this one time I was taking pictures in the park and saw- Oh! Hey, the buses are here!"
"Thank fuck-"
.
.
.
Dew has been hunkered down in his bunk for the last half an hour or so, idly scrolling through albums on his digital camera in order to find some "paranormal activity style shit" for Mist to look through the next time they have a chance to sit down and shoot the shit again, but nothing has really jumped out at him as being even remotely spooky so far.
He'd gone back to the very first photos he had taken on his camera when it was brand new, cringing at accidental selfies from when he was trying to figure out how to navigate the menu, and one intentional dick pic to try and see the birthmark on his inner thigh for fear that it might of gotten bigger.
The spoiler alert on that one was that it hadn't, he'd just never seen the full thing before because of the angle, and the only reason he'd become aware of how large it actually was was because one of his previous partners had spread him out in front of a mirror and he had panicked at the sight of it.
With a sigh, he switches to his most recent album, filled with pictures from the tour so far, expecting to find nothing of note, before letting out a startled gasp at the sight of something grotesque staring back at him through the screen.
"What the fuck..."
It's a picture of him standing next to Alpha, except something is very wrong with his face, and he doesn't mean that in a rude way, it's just...
Alpha's face is... floating?
It looks faded out, blurry almost, but it seems like it's sitting lower than it should be.
Dew zooms in and tries to figure out what could have caused such an odd distortion.
Maybe Alpha had moved or bobbed his head?
But surely Dew would have noticed something like that sooner, right?
He taps the picture and moves it into another folder he labels, "For Mist" deeming it weird enough to show his friend later on, and returns to scrolling, only to pause again when he finds a group photo of the band huddled together under the awning of a restaurant.
All of their faces, even some parts of their bodies, are distorted and off the way they were in his picture with Alpha.
He frowns, disappointed, "Man, I really liked that one..."
As Dew flips through the rest of his pictures, the only ones that seem messed up are the ones with the ghouls in them, all of his other photos are crystal clear, even the ones he took of Terzo are still intact.
"Huh..." Dew drags the images into the new folder and decides to take a couple test shots of his face and the inside of his bunk to test and see if there's any kind of distortion going on, but all of them come out fine.
Deciding it must have been a glitch or the result of his own shaky hand movements, Dew snaps one more picture of himself and tucks the camera back into his bag.
"Weird." Dew yawns, "I'll figure out what's wrong with it tomorrow."
#lamp writes#shitghosting#nameless ghouls#dewdrop ghoul#omega ghoul#alpha ghoul#mist ghoulette#ghost band#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost band fanfic#shutterbug au
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This was A LOT ! I don’t know if I can handle anymore. But sis you put your foot all up in this post. Hell you threw your whole leg in the this. This post reminded me of what happens when sims and cinematic effects collide. I used to love trying to make these scenes convey the effect of a movie without actually being a movie. I got lazy though because it’s a lot of work that may not always pay off. But you did it so well I could hear it. I could see Hope slowly passing out. Her eyes struggling to stay open. I could hear the heartbeats and the pulse sounds the heart monitor makes. I could hear the gun go off. The chaos and the EMT working to save Elliot. While Jayce calmly coaxed Hope back into breathing. It was so beautiful. I will always and forever love sim literature and all the work that goes into creating and detailing these beautiful images. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again you’re and artist and this was a work of art.
Thank you SO MUCH sis because it really is a lot of work and its hard and you DO want to say "fuck it" and do something different. I got stuck on a number of occassions trying to get this out because it was emotionally taxing but also I wanted to convey this in a way that could be felt, seen and heard. That meant I had to get technical with these screenshots and try to turn them into little movies lol. So thank you for confirming that it worked!! I'll have an idea but never know if I executed it correctly until I hear back from y'all! LOVE YOU SIS!
Its the feedback for me!!
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chapter 16: tax season is the most widely misinterpreted and undervalued chapter.
it is three minutes and eleven seconds long and the most common reaction i see to it is people going "oh my god copia's going to die and i hate saltarian now."
i'll excuse the "copia's going to die" reactions that came before chapter 17, but after chapter 17, there's no excuse. the glass display coffin was a new one for nihil. the coffin in chapter 16 is the one copia visits in chapter 17. that's it. enough.
anyway.
1. when saltarian walks by copia's room, he just smiles and nods at him. this is not malicious. at the beginning of the chapter, saltarian is making the exact same facial expression. copia is weird about this interaction because he's a deeply paranoid person. and then we see that again.
2. when imperator walks into copia's room, he recoils and flinches in a way that is not on par with someone who has just been caught Not Doing Taxes. again: deeply paranoid person. and with good reason, because—
3. he then asks imperator about the coffin saltarian had. imperator, knowing damn well it's for nihil, does not tell him this. she intentionally fucks with him to make him assume she's going to have him killed, even though there's no reason she would want him dead.
this is such a batshit series of events and i can't believe the main takeaway is "saltarian is bad and copia's going to die." saltarian is a perfectly pleasant guy.
this chapter shows that the reason copia is so paranoid is because imperator thinks it's funny to fuck with him. that's it. she does not have a reason to want him dead. that would go against everything she worked for. she may even assume that this is obvious, so she thinks of what she's doing as a joke that copia will also interpret as a joke.
copia does NOT interpret this as a joke. he knows imperator had his predecessors killed for no reason and he is legitimately scared of her while still striving for her approval and love.
imperator is, crucially, probably not even acting out of malice here. her intonation is jokey, even though copia doesn't pick up on that. she's messing with him, possibly because she knows he's very easy to mess with, and she likely sees this as the kind of thing two people with a good rapport do with each other. i can't claim that she's intentionally written as an emotionally abusive parent who doesn't believe she's ever done anything malicious, but she reads really, really clearly as exactly that type of person. and this chapter is kind of insane because of this.
also copia doesn't have a bedroom door and was playing a nonexistent NES game of driving miss daisy that, in its ten seconds of screentime, manages to directly contradict the narrative of driving miss daisy. what's up with all that.
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Pls tell me ab umineko
long story short its a murder mystery novel with rich people getting killed and incredibly insane women. <3 its a fascinating metanarrative exploring the love at the core of every writer/reader relationship, and the different aspects of truth. 10/10 stories that haunt you forever
ok sorry heres a longer more detailed introduction because im really bad at not rambling when it comes to umineko. umineko no naku koro ni, or umineko when they cry is a mystery visual novel written by ryukishi07. the first part (the question arcs) and the second and last part (the answer arcs) are both available on steam! the 07thmod adds the stellar ps3 voice acting and sprites. theres also a very good manga adaptation but it requires some digging lets say hehe
the story focuses on a wealthy japanese family, the ushiromiya, gathering on their private island for the annual family conference to discuss the future of the family's fortune. the children of the now dying head, kinzo ushiromiya, are all struggling financially and desperately need kinzo's legendary ten tons of gold, rumored to have been gifted a witch named beatrice. a typhoon suddenly traps everyone on the island, and the family and the servants start dying in impossible occult fashions, seemingly following a mysterious epitaph. the culprit, who keeps sending taunting letters daring the family to solve the riddle, claims to be the golden witch beatrice...
umineko is an open letter to the mystery genre and stories as a whole, with 'and then there where none' by christie being a huge reference. dante's inferno is also used as a metaphor all throughout the story!
its difficult to say more because first : umineko is really fucking long, approximatively 150 hours. its an incredibly rich story packed with fascinating characters and it is 100% worth it but its not exactly accessible. the story is aware of that, and while it will challenge you, it will always do it in a caring way. it wants you to succeed, it begs you to acknowledge it and interact with its narrative, in an almost intimate way. and its for that reason that a more detailed summary wouldnt do it justice.
it also tackles a lot of sensitive subjects, albeit in a very raw and empathetic way. ryukishi07 worked as a civil servant and social issues such as generational abuse and trauma are recurring themes in his work. umineko can be emotionally taxing to read but imo this only goes to show how masterful its execution is.
its a strictly linear, kinetic visual novel, so theres isnt anything that could be qualified as gameplay, but saying theres no player interaction would also be incorrect. its often described as a 'sound novel' by fans as music and sound effects are a crucial part of umineko!
ok i realize how much ive written already god im sorry. tldr umineko very good it fundamentally broke and repaired something in me i will never ever recover. without love it cannot be seen
#i hope my answer wasnt too straight i get very excited talking about this#also this is an honor i didnt even realize we were mutuals. like omg mobiused from tumblr fame i cant fumble the bag#(furiously typing) beatrice. hm. you see beatrice umineko is kinda like.shes kinda like yves and hyeju loonaver#post#ask#umineko
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Hi there! I’ve noticed you a lot around Aph Mongolia posts, so I wanted to ask you some questions! First, as a foreigner, what you made you so interested in this character? Second, could you go into who you ship him with and why? It’s nice to see people still actively talking about my boy, so I was hoping to engage a bit!
Hi! :D Thank you for the ask! Well, I guess I've been interested in Mongolian culture/history for a few years now, it first peaked my interest when I was around 13? So its been 6, almost 7 years of being obsessed haha. I really love reading and learning about Mongolian history and culture, I even really like Mongolian music too and listen to it along with all of my other songs on my playlist! I first got into hetalia when I was 12, and so my love for hetalia and love for Mongolia kind of collided and well here I am all these years later still posting about it lol!
Over the years my hcs of Mongolia as a character has changed as I've read more about Mongolian history/culture but also influenced from what other people post about him so there are things from old accounts I may have posted in the past which I don't agree with now but. I honestly think Mongolia as a character would be so damn interesting? Considering his past and current way of living, and how he got to where he is now. Like there's so much history there to work with, not even just when he had an empire, but before that and after that too. Even who his predecessors could have been/were is so interesting to me. He himself really influenced a lot of other nations histories also. His relationships, with other nations too is so interesting to think about!!
Ships, some are a lot more wholesome than others:
Tibet x Mongolia - YES DHSJD LOVE THEM thank you @flyingsassysaddles so wholesome 😭
India x Mongolia - @flyingsassysaddles made a really good post about that ship and the history between the two which got me into it!
Turkey x Mongolia - umm old history and they just seem really fun together tbh!
Japan x Mongolia - I think the history between them is kind of funny tbh 😭 plus nowadays both countries are on good terms with each other! Both have similar kind of interests, with Japans national sport being Sumo and Mongolias is bukh, also I think Mongolians dominating Sumo is hilarious I'm sorry. I have a bit of a raunchy reason for shipping them too but I'm not sure of what your age is so I'm not sure if I should answer that for you!
Vietnam x Mongolia - lol she beat his ass 😍 I think he kind of respects her for that tho. but I think this would be a power couple tbh like I can see them both just standing next to each other with resting bitch faces 😭
Ok this one is controversial asf LMAO its China x Mongolia ☠️ I don't personally see it as a healthy "ship" though like. At its best I like imagining them as two old men bickering with each other but like unlike the other ships which have a lot of potential to be healthy this one, no not really when you look at the history and current politics. I mean you're Mongolian of course you know this haha. I'm a little hesitant to put out Monchu content for this reason even tho like. I recently wrote a one-shot lol. For me when I'm being serious about the ship and not viewing it in the usual light-hearted hetalia lense, it would be like a tragic/complicated/unhealthy/emotionally taxing/toxic "relationship". I have a post planned in which I try to explain it but I'm very hesitant to even post it.
This one seems so random hahaha but Philippines x Mongolia because I was curious and looked up Philippines-Mongolia relations and like. It was quite short but there was a small painting of a Mongolian couple who visited the Philippines in the 17th century in there? And they were in furs and all and considering the heat and humidity of the Philippines 😨 So I find it funny just. Thinking about him going there on a whim or something because screw it why not and being unprepared for the humidity and aph Philippines being like bro what is wrong with you 😭 Also I think him calling aph Mongolia Mango-lia is cute jdsjdjaj. This is more of a fun, random one.
I have some poly ships with him too but idk they're not too fleshed out :> Thank you sm for the ask tho I love reading your insight on things!
#hetalia#aph mongolia#hws mongolia#hetalia world twinkle#Hetalia world stars#Hetalia world series#Aph Tibet#Hws Tibet#Aph india#Hws india#Aph turkey#Hws turkey#Aph japan#Hws japan#Aph Vietnam#Hws Vietnam#Aph china#Hws China#aph philippines#hws philippines#Mongolmaral
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Okay okay so like, really weird and specific but I've just started my first job recently!(I'm so excited to keep making money) but like its really stressful and I'm so burnt out cuz I had to immediately start working 8 hour shifts with no training, so like how about smaug with a burnt out s/o preferably female??? Just pure fluff because I really need it!!!!! Please and thank you! Btw I love your work it makes me smile!!!!! (PS. I'm hoping I could get tagged in smaug content!) Okay okay I'm done now I love you!!!
Hello! Not weird at all, I actually really enjoyed writing this request. I'm really sorry that your job is so stressful at the moment, I'm hoping it gets better for you. Also- Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my fics! I added you to the Smaug tag-list (you're the first!) and btw I love your profile picture. Demon Slayer is my favorite anime at the moment. I hope you enjoy!:
When you entered the hoard, Smaug knew something was wrong. The way your shoulders were tensed and eyes lowered in a half-lidded stare as you carefully took off your shoes said it all. Your smell shifted. No longer did you smell of honey and wildflowers, but now burnt petals and peppermint, a specific smell that Smaug knew you put off when you were feeling stressed or in emotional turmoil. Not that he’d ever tell you that, of course.
“My treasure?” Smaug called out cautiously, frowning when you didn’t reply to him.
After taking off your shoes, you threw your jacket into the makeshift hook by the ‘door’ as you made your way further into the hoard.
Not even realizing he attempted to talk to you before, you spoke a soft “I’m back, Smaug,” as if he wouldn’t realize your presence when you entered.
“Treasure…” He murmured, voice laced with concern when you headed to the work-station you designed for yourself so you could work on your craft. Every day you got up before dawn, took all of your wares, packed them up, and then took them into Laketown to sell to the locals so you could then buy things that you needed such as new thread for repairing your clothing or special treats like candies. You wouldn’t dare risk using the gold of Smaug’s hoard. It was his hoard, after all.
It was all becoming too much though, Smaug knew that much as you sat down and closed your eyes, mentally preparing yourself to work extra hard so tomorrow wouldn’t be as emotionally taxing.
“You’re done for tonight,” Smaug spoke simply as he lifted you off your work seat, cradling you to his chest as he walked to your shared nest.
“Wuh… Smaug, no I can’t, I need to work-”
As he sat you down, suddenly a taloned finger sat against your bottom lip as Smaug shushed you, golden eyes hardened into a glare. “You are working too much,” He announced before shuffling you around so he could lay next to you.
“You are my mate,” Smaug began after a moment of silence. “It is my duty to take care of you, and I always will, even if it means protecting you from your own self.”
His words made your heart flutter as you looked over to him, amused that you found his eyes shut as he held you close.
“I need to work though, Smaug,” You attempted to argue, but your body melting into his side told him you had already given up the urge to work until you couldn’t stay awake.
“No, you don’t,” He huffed, burying his face against your neck. “I don’t know what started these thoughts, but you are mine to care for, and whatever you need I will provide.”
“Smaug-”
“There’s plenty of gold in this hoard for you to buy whatever you need, little treasure,” Smaug’s lips pressed to your neck in a kiss, not one of lust or desire, but of gentle reassurance.
“But that’s your hoard?”
“Hoards can be replenished, what is necessary is that my mate is well taken care of.” His words left with no room for arguing as you began to run your fingers through his hair.
“Take a day off, stay with me,” To outsiders it would be a demand, but the lifting at the edge of his voice told you it was a request, to stay with him, to truly think about the hell you were putting yourself through before attempting it again.
“I will,” You promised, pressing a kiss to his temple.
Your scent shifted, not as burnt smelling as before as you fully relaxed in the nest. You didn’t even realize how neglectful you had been to yourself this whole time, your body feeling like a thousand tons had finally lifted off of it as for the first night in a week you finally allowed yourself to rest.
Smaug may be many things, but a neglectful mate will never be one of them.
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Kind of off topic, but why did you retire from pediatric oncology? Why did you take getting a therapist so seriously specifically because of the job? What is better about teaching art? I'm going to be a junior in high school and am considering going to medical school when I graduate.
Before I answer your question, I want to make it clear that I loved pediatric oncology and if I were to travel back in time and be given the option to go immediately into being an art professor or doing pediatric oncology first, I would do pediatric oncology first again. Changing your mind about what you want to do or what you enjoy later in life does not negate the importance and fulfillment of your at-the-time focus. This is why I am dismissive towards "but it's just a phase!" comments.
Anything in the medical field - any position at all - comes with a high amount of stress. Whether you are a custodian or a neurosurgeon, whether you do desk and paperwork or work nightshifts in the ER, when it comes to the health, lives, and livelihoods of others, it will take a toll. Janitors having to mop blood and feces daily, dietary having to be aware of how certain medications affect digestion and each individual patient's dietary necessities and restrictions and allergies, nurses having to take the brunt of the emotional turmoil of a patient in severe pain, and receptionists having to deal with people angry at having to be in a hospital in the first place will take its toll on anyone. If you work in a medical facility at all I would suggest having a strong emotional support system with your loved ones and it is absolutely necessary for you to have a healthy work/life balance as well as set up boundaries. Despite this, the system absolutely expects you to prioritize your career because "this is life and desth" and "if you don't work sixteen hour shifts, the patients will suffer." I have personally seen the Head of Maintenance tell his employee that taking a week off to deal with the death of a parent would be tantamount to patient abandonment. Society also deems you as heroes, and not workers, so you're expected to care less about your bills because "you're not in it for the money" and are expected to put up with insane levels of overworking and abuse from other workers and your patients and patients' families because they want you to be superhuman. This is why it is essential for you to set up and maintain boundaries and be aware of how close you are to burning out as well as have emotional support from someone in your life. The closer you are to dealing with patients, the more I would suggest you seek therapy.
As a pediatric oncologist, I dealt with children dying consistently. I dealt with grieving and scared family members. Radiation and chemotherapy is no walk on the park, so even those that survive have difficulties. You will have to go from holding the hand of someone as they die, or have a parent threaten to kill you because their child passed, and then two minutes later perform a puppet show for the balding child two doors down. For me, if a child was going to die, I got fulfillment in helping them live each day to its fullest, focusing on their quality of life, and making sure they experienced as much love as possible. For those who survived, I got fulfillment in helping them get better, as it were. Blood, gore, mucus, vomit, feces, urine, the smells of sickness and medications, etc didn't bother me. It did, however, get emotionally taxing to a degree, but I kept my work/life balance and boundaries in good shape.
That being said, it is still a lot to handle and take in while also having to deal with the entitlement hospitals have towards staff, workplace politics, and the absolute cut throat competition of other coworkers, the legal ramifications of filed grievances, complaints, and allegations, and the psychopaths that medical field attracts. If you are going to become a doctor, it was an absolute MUST that you get malpractice insurance. If you genuinely believe you'll never make a mistake, or if you shut down when you do make a mistake, it is not the profession for you. There will be a time that you see the symptoms, signs, and tests and have no idea why they are at those levels, or what could possibly be causing it. There will be a time you make an avoidable mistake, which i cannot emphasize enough. I've met many doctors who went into the profession accepting they'd make unavoidable one, but not avoidable ones. It is impossible not to. You will not see a symptom when you ought to have, or you will misdiagnose, or offer a medication that makes a symptom worse. There will be people who you can absolutely save but refuse to listen to you, those who have a 98% survival rate who pass away suddenly, those who are on death's door and have little to no chance of survival and end up surviving despite the odds, people who absolutely could have survived but stubbornly will not listen to you, etc. That, I could also handle.
But eventually, the sixteen hour (or more) days, guilt tripping from coworkers, management, patients, and patients' families when I took a two week vacation, working twenty-one days with no day off, the expectation that I be with everyone everywhere at all times outweighed the fulfillment I got from my patients, who I absolutely loved. And so I decided to pursue another career. And yes, when a doctor retires or quits, there are people who will call you selfish for giving up on saving lives.
I remember the moment I decided I was ready to move on from oncology. One day, a mother was angry with me because her child went into remission - which was fully expected - and she kept demanding to know what she was supposed to do now. Sometimes sickness can become patients' and families' identity, so this wasn't the first time, but earlier that week a former patient had seen me at the store and had been upset I hadn't integrated myself into their post-care lives. That was also common. When you see people at their most vulnerable and intense emotional moments, they will form attachments. As a professional boundary, I do not put myself into the personal lives of any of my patients (and now, my students.) While at work I will discuss their hopes, dreams, memories, but when I am not working, I think it's best to separate that from my home life. For me, I work best with my patients when I see them as patients, even though I am incredibly friendly and invested in them while with them. Sometimes they want to take the patient/doctor relationship and then it into something more familial, but I have no interest in that.
I had kept up with my art throughout the years, and eventually I realized I was treating it less like a hobby and getting more fulfillment from it than being a doctor. One day it sort of clicked that I wanted to teach art (not long after I realized I admitted I was no longer happy being a pediatric oncologist) as I was helping a preteen patient of mine shade shapes for homework.
Sorry for the lengthy reply as well as how long it took me to get around to answering!
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bhobbiel: I keep wondering now that Doumeki with his tattoo, missing finger, and scars--- how are they gonna logistically end up happy together 😭 he is so far in the business/lifestyle
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That's a really good question! At this point Doumeki is not only an ex-convict with a criminal record, he has two large facial scars, and a full yakuza back tattoo. I think YK is intentionally embedding him further and further into this industry. New obstacle unlocked.
I don't have an opinion yet on whether he will get out or not, but my whole thing is, isn't being a yakuza also a legitimate job and identity? It's illegitimate through law the same way sex work is illegal in some places, but people still do it, they earn money, they adopt identities, and they want to be acknowledged by others.
If Doumeki is happy where he's at, why should he leave? Everybody has different experiences with different things. Yashiro was mistreated badly in the yakuza; he was envied, he was demeaned, he was forced to make decisions he doesn't morally align with, but worst of all, he's had to carry so much responsibility for other people. He told Misumi he doesn't want to come back because, "it's a pain in the ass." For Yashiro, being a yakuza is emotionally taxing. Not to mention that he has to use transactional sex with detectives and other people to operate his business and keep everyone safe.
But Doumeki's experiences are different. Doumeki gets to protect the people he cares for and respects. He doesn't get judged if he gets too physical; no one is demanding that he smile and talk; he can be his authentic self and still protect his loved ones within and outside the bounds of the law. Remember, he couldn't lawfully protect Aoi from his father without punishment. He was locked up for 4 years, leaving his mom to be a single mother and his sister vulnerable to other predators. In the yakuza, his bosses won't punish him for beating up a guy, in fact, they would offer support. Doumeki has backup and community, where Yashiro had no one but himself. The two have completely different perceptions of this lifestyle because of their vastly different experiences. Maybe Yashiro just needs to understand Doumeki's perspective.
Sure, it's a dangerous society, but Yashiro survived it for 20 years, and Doumeki is more than capable of protecting himself, both in the past and now. He's someone to be feared, in fact. He's almost too good at his job. It's hard to say though, whether Yashiro will ever understand and accept that Doumeki could thrive in a yakuza environment. And even if he could there's still the issue of its general moral bankruptcy; it will always be a place of greed and selfishness in Yashiro's eyes.
I've often said that Yashiro is starting to see himself differently. Doumeki told him that his life choices are his to decide, and it's clear that Doumeki has been insistent on affirming Yashiro's goodness-- If D succeeded in showering Yashiro with love and building up his self-worth in the process, then it would follow that Doumeki's choices have no relation to Yashiro's "negative" influence. If Doumeki made his own decisions and they didn't cause him distress, Yashiro has nothing to blame himself for. Whether it's possible for Yashiro to live guilt-free with Doumeki's lifestyle choice, I don't know. I'd like to hope he could get there.
Anyways, I don't know if Doumeki will choose to stay or leave with Yashiro, whether Yashiro could handle Doumeki staying and still pursue a relationship with him, and whether Doumeki could be granted pardon from Tsunakawa. Those questions are still up in the air, and I think the next volume of this story will explore it in more detail.
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