#my second favorite scene in the entire series
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ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION
FEATURING: beast dazai osamu
SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it
GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings
SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST
READ: BADLANDS SIDE A
“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.”
You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”
Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes.
You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.
Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area.
You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean.
You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?
God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself.
You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia.
But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.
Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?
“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.
Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally.
Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.
But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.
“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai.
“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.
Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-
“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.
“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”
You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on.
Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”
“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”
“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”
You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.
You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers.
You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”
You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?”
Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully.
“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”
Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?
Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.
“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”
Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.
He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.
You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on.
But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror.
You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you.
You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”
You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.
“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”
“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”
You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.
Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”
“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”
“What’s the issue then?”
“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?”
“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”
Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”
Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”
A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”
Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”
Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.
The giddiness is long gone.
You still haven’t gotten dressed.
You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.
It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there.
The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression.
And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him.
His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.
He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.
“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”
And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”
“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”
“I just don’t understand.”
Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this?
If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.
God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.
Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.
A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently.
“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”
Where do you fucking start?
You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears.
“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”
You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.
“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.
He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror.
Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.
“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”
Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp.
“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”
He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.
“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”
You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box.
You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you.
“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”
His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time.
“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”
“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.
“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”
You love him.
You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.
“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.
He smiles against your skin.
“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”
“Everyone is staring at us.”
You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.
“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out.
His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos.
At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance.
Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.
Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias.
Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him.
Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.
Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.
More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen.
But is this really any better?
He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.
He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.
“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”
“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress.
Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.
“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.
“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?”
Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”
You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low.
Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.
Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”
“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”
Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall.
The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.
There you are.
Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.
Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.
“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away.
Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.
He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.
If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners.
He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?”
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them.
You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.
His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.
God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.
The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.
“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.
He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”
You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer.
“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.
“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”
Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”
Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.
“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”
“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?”
“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”
Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.
To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.
He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”
“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?”
You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.
Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.
He feels sick.
What is he doing?
Why are you here?
What has he done?
“Dazai.”
You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him.
“Dazai.”
What has he done?
Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-
His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-
“Osamu.”
His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.
“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh.
He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.
His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them.
Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.
Hm.
Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths.
Interesting.
He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.
Osamu,
“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.
You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”
“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”
“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake.
Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.
“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.
“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start.
He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.
God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.
“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”
His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.
“Dazai.”
Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”
“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”
Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners.
“May I have this dance?”
Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.
Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.
He should just kill them all here and be done with it.
The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:
“Speak.”
Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.
You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.
Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other.
You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting.
Who are you, Dazai?
You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does.
You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him.
Could you sacrifice everything for him though?
Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him.
A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond.
I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance.
“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.
It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth.
“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.
“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”
Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”
He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”
You aren’t so sure.
Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction.
Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.
He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you.
“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”
Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.
Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.
You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.
“Is this seat taken?”
You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.
“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”
An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.
“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.
The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous.
“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.
I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩
I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.
There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.
The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!
Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙
Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)
The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣
We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂
Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭
I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔
All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.
Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.
Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥
I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣
And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀
Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪
Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!
The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹
So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#knuckles series#knuckles series spoilers#spoilers#knuckles#knuckles show#knuckles wachowski#sonic wachowski#tails wachowski#maddie wachowski#the buyer#review#positivity#positive review#IT WAS SO MUCH FREAKING FUN#sonic cinematic universe#scu#wade whipple#no hate to wade you hear me#none#any hate replies or anything will be deleted#this is a positivity zone#i am here to have fun not complain#i will have all the fun and no one can stop me#sth
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do you happen to have any other bls with toxic kings up your sleeve? i’m as giddy as you when it comes to ming! i’m newer to bls, so there’s a good chance i haven’t seen whatever you suggest.
Anon, I have an entire roster of toxic characters because
I LOVE TOXIC BITCHES!
Like 2 Chainz rapped on one of my favorite songs, "I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem" which is why I HATE when a story won't allow characters to be toxic. Like we all know the character IS toxic, but the story keeps telling us he isn't that bad or he is only that bad because reasons. Regardless of the reasons, the character is a bad bitch so why not just let him fucking own it, which is truly the reason Only Friends pissed me off so much.
Case and point, my favorite characters were Ray and Nick. Ray was calling Sand a whore every two seconds and throwing money at him, while Nick was recording non-consexual sex tapes, yet the narrative wanted me to think they were just sad dudes who were slightly problematic.
NAH! Nick straight up said he was trash! THEY WERE TOXIC just like everyone else in that damn show!
Which is why I liked Kang in Dangerous Romance because I don't feel like the narrative eased up on his toxicity. In fact, I feel like the story said Sailom was into it with that master/servant scene at the very end.
So in order for me to love a toxic character, they must 1) be considered toxic by the story, and 2) stay toxic, so I'm going to give you a list of ten of my favorites, but know that spoilers are coming your way too. Also know that I do not recommend anything, ever, so these are not recommendations. These are merely my favorite toxicitos.
Mis tóxicos favoritos
presented in no particular order
Todd - Not Me
This man had his lover (it's canon to me) beat into a coma. Then, he went and grabbed that man's twin brother and made him take on his lover's persona all so he could overthrow his competition and be the number one evil capitalist. And then, AND THEN, he was excited to see his lover, Black, return even though he knew that meant he was probably going to die. Honestly, his entire relationship with Black was toxic, and I desperately need more of it. Not Me 2: Blackout when? WHEN, GMMTV?!
Rio & Kido - The Novelist Series
Rio blew Kido in front of an old man in broad daylight, so they could get a book deal. That's just one of the many fucked up things these two did together, but they were even worse apart. Rio lied to a college student for months about his arm being injured and writing pornographic novels just to turn on the college student and fuck him because . . . he was bored? It's deeper than that, but it kinda ain't. Rio and Kido did toxic shit to feel alive and that's my special brand of toxic. I will never make excuses for them. I like them this way.
Yai - Big Dragon
The very beginning of this show, as in the very first scene, is Yai and Mangkorn having sex AFTER Yai drugged Mangkorn in hopes of sexually assaulting him and recording it. AND MANGKORN IS INTO IT! Yai tries to steal Mangkorn's phone and ruin his life too, but Mangkorn is so in love with Yai, that he is willing to play along with whatever Yai does including fighting Yai. This is one of my favorite BLs for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest is because instead of trying to tame Yai, Mangkorn just decided to match his toxic energy! I love that for them.
Songpol - Club Friday
Bank plays toxic very well, which is why he has two characters on this list, even though this show isn't technically a BL. Club Friday is already a hot mess express, so to be the most toxic character in a show filled with toxic characters means that Songpol was TOK-SICK! He cheated on his boyfriend with multiple men. When his boyfriend left him for a woman, he showed up outside of that woman's house calling her a whore. He then went to their wedding just so he could fuck his ex in a bathroom (on his wedding day). He continued to hook up with his ex, and sent a video to his ex's wife of them having sex, only for her to tell him to move into the house and continue having sex with her husband! AND THAT'S ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE! He was serving telenovela villain, and I want him back.
Vegas - KinnPorsche
The scene: Vegas' beloved hedgehog has just died and he has carried out a tiny funeral for him while the bodyguard he has been holding hostage AND TORTURING comforts him, but instead of sitting in that grief, Vegas tells the bodyguard that the bodyguard is probably turned on by seeing Vegas weak, then proceeds to fuck him. Skipping over the fact that Vegas drugged Porsche, killed Tawan, got Big and Ken murdered by extension, and a plethora of other horrible shit, Vegas was a HUGE red flag from the very beginning, and I wanted him to choke me so badly. *bites knuckles*
Charn - Laws of Attraction
He had his reasons, but the story and his husband didn't let that be an excuse for his toxic behavior. He tried burning down Tinn's house, with Tinn and his grandmother in it, and Tinn was very upset about it. Not enough to not sleep with Charn, but enough to get his point across that if Charn wanted to burn something down, he needed to focus on burning down the oppressive heteronormative government, so we could all have basic human rights. Toxic, but for the cause.
Chalothon - The Sign
I knew he was a problem because the way he handled his patients, but he truly proved how toxic he was when he told Phaya he would kill Tharn before letting Phaya have him. I'm mad that the show made him good in the last episode, with most of if being off-screen, but I'll always remember how he committed psychological warfare on Phaya for eleven episodes in hopes of making Phaya seem crazy, and actually made Tharn, Phaya's soulmate, question Phaya's sanity.
Mol - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us
The only woman on this list and she isn't even queer. That's how toxic this chick was that she made it on a this list being a heterosexual, which was a major part of her toxicity. She is a top-tier gaslighter to her son. She doesn't actually consider Inn her friend. She uses feminist rhetoric to be homophobic. She manipulates every situation in her favor by using tears. I could write a list just about her being lead paint toxic, but the most fucked up part is that she got to ride off into the sunset with her son in the passenger seat being miserable, which is what she wanted. No other BL parent could reach her level. Korn and Gun from KinnPorsche exist, yet this woman would eat them alive without hesitation, then go throw a party for herself. She really is that bitch.
Yong Jie - HIStory 4: Close to You
I'm not going to bullshit around him being a whole ass problem. This motherfucker is the most controversial pick on this list, and I am well aware of why he is hated by the people, but the story told us he was the devil. The show treated everything he did like stalking, physical assault, and sexual assault as horrible, and he got knocked out for it. HIStory 4 is my favorite BL, ever, and part of it is because the story let this toxic motherfucker BE toxic. I love how much I hate him, and I love how much the story allows me to hate him.
So - House of Stars
This show was a mess, so I was not expecting this man to come out as THE toxic king to rule over every other toxic character. What made him so toxic is that I had no idea just how toxic he was until the exact moment I realized it, and that's why he is one of my favorites. He was sneaky. He was playing everyone against each other. He was letting the bodies stack up. He was Tan from Dead Friend Forever without anyone figuring out he was Tan. One person realized part of his plan, but even then, that person was not aware of how committed to the bit So was. This smile was the very last scene of the show, and it really proved that this boy ruined everyone's lives only to walk out of it completely unbothered. You know, king shit.
#toxic kings#I love toxic bitches#it's the unhinged behavior and mind games that always gets me#house of stars#history 4: close to you#180 degree longitude passes through us#club friday#kinnporsche#big dragon#laws of attraction#the sign#not me#the novelist
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kind hands.
#fmab#fullmetal alchemist#edward elric#riza hawkeye#riza fma#ed fma#fmab ep 5#my second favorite scene in the entire series#riza is so kind n hot u cant deny#screenshot redraw#something something symbolism the military jacket is too big for ed#ignore the shit holster i havent figured out how to draw guns#my art#fanart
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bad buddy’s one-year anniversary | one scene per episode
↳ episode three (original air date: november 12th, 2021)
“Engineers might not be creative. But we get things done, things that are practical. If you don’t believe me, get up.”
#bad buddy#bad buddy the series#patpran#pat x pran#asianlgbtqdramas#ohm pawat#nanon korapat#ohmnanon#bbsanniversary#badbuddyrewatch#mygifs#my second favorite scene of the entire show (after the rooftop scene ofc)#seeing how they bicker and play off each other and work together is just...it's so good
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I love TMNT 2007, because it perfectly shows TMNT at its best *and* at its worst.
On one hand, it showcases Leo and Raph's conflict wonderfully. It shows the struggles that Leo suffers of trying to do his best, and Raph feeling abandoned by Leo and conflicted about his return. The tension, the drama, the back and forth, all of it is so good. And don't get me started on the fight scene.
Guys. The fight scene. The fight scene.
Them fighting in the rain, with Raph and Leo dealing hit after hit on even battlefield? And at the end, when Raph was about to deal the finishing blow, but hesitates and instead runs away, clearly regretting his decision, while Leo just watches? The silence, no one saying anything in that entire interaction? Beautiful. Actual poetry. I love it.
On the other hand, holy fuck is Donnie and Mikey barely in this movie. Like, what the actual hell guys?? Donnie and Mikey barely got any screentime, they're practically relegated to side characters in this movie. And yes, I get that they were pushed aside because they needed more time for Leo and Raph, and the scenes where Mikey and Donnie actually do something in the movie are great (I think about that scene where Raph is confiding in Splinter while Mikey is just there in the back, hearing everything. Like, a lot. It lives rent free in my head) but still. C'mon. Guys, please.
#it seems like tmnt and i will always have a complicated relationship#i dont like tmnt 1987#tmnt 2003 is my second favorite but I don't think I'll ever actually finish it#i already said my very summarized thoughts on tmnt 2012#but i might go more in depth at some point#rotmnt is uh#simply put complicated#lets just put it like that#i'll go more into it later#tmnt 2007#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#look man#i went into tmnt 2007 hoping that it would have mikey content#to say that i was disappointed would be kinda right#but it made up with the best fight scene in the entire series#no i dont take constructive critisism#the fire burns#the fire rants
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4 minutes and 2 seconds into ep 4 of moonlight chicken and i am already dead
#THEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#yeah ok ok yeah ok alright ok gemini and fourth absolutely won me over in this one#did not see that coming when i started msp ngl#i didn't think they'd quickly be my favorites in this series#esp considering the rest of the cast goddamn#heartliming#mlc#mlc ep4#adrm#airenyah plappert#brb rewatching that entire beginning scene NOW before i go watch anything else from the ep#(I SAY THIS AS SOMEONE WHO'S BEEN DYING TO SEE FIRST SINCE EP1 AIRED)#(YES I WILL DELAY SEEING MY LOVE FIRST KANAPHAN ON MY SCREEN IN FAVOUR OF WATCHING THE VERY BEGINNING OF THE EP A SECOND TIME)#(THIS IS THE POWER HEART AND LI MING / GEMINI AND FOURTH HAVE OVER ME GOD FUCKING DAMMIT)
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In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖
Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).
The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭
But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅
I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀
The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.
Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅
The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.
But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!
By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.
Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!
I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.
I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣
Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.
The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)
Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂
#spy family#spy x family#sxf#spyxfamily#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#twiyor#sxf anime#becky blackbell#yuri briar
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-> break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored | paige b.
paige b x fem!college!reader
genre: flirty, suggestive, smut 18+
authors note: p.b ilysm, this is just a start of a small college themed series about p & readers fun encounters
the bar was crowded but that’s exactly how she liked it to be. paige thrived under the spotlight but she was in a different type of heaven when the people around her were too wasted to care that she was walking among them. nights out were rare - she didn’t have as much time as she used to - but they were always fun. with the sound of the dj scratching his table, he began announcing that karaoke was beginning. and that was paige’s cue to leave and refill her drink. she checked if her friends needed anything before walking with her head low towards her favorite bartender - she didn’t have to even ask for a drink or pay, the bartender and barback both had class with paige and she was happy to have friends in high and low places. she drummed her fingers on the bar and watched her drink being made when felt people crowding around beside her.
“fuck off,” a voice spat out beside her and she turned her head to look at the scene that was unfolding. you were shorter than her so all she could see was the back of your head as you flipped off a man, who, looked like he belonged to a fraternity on campus and for a second, she thought a fight was about to break out. the man stepped closer and pecked you on the forehead and you welcomed it with an eyeroll and a shove. “don’t kiss me, you owe me a drink.” you laughed. paige turned away from the exchange just as you did and you stood square at each other, your eyes meeting hers, before she turned her focus back to the bar. she’s straight, paige thought to herself, they always are.
it wasn’t lost on her that you were hot. it sure as hell wasn’t lost on her that you were built exactly how she liked. it also wasn’t lost on her that you were clearly straight and not at all single. you stepped on the footrest of the bar with both feet and leaned over the counter, yelling at the bartender with a sugary sweet smile. paige was sure she was going to see you get bitched at by being obnoxious but you got her attention and were met with a squeal of delight. the bartender was holding paige’s drink in her hand as she began to gawk at the sight of you - only a few feet away from paige.
“shut upppp, people start studying for the lsat and think they can just ignore their friends.” the bartender teased, placing paige’s drink out of reach seemingly unaware that she was holding it hostage.
“no more studying,” you beamed. “i fucking passed!” you had to shout over the sound of drunk girls giving the most humiliating performance of a sexy back by justin timberlake. paige watched the bartender go on and on about how proud she was of you - while paige’s drink sat across the bar.
paige didn’t want to interrupt and as soon as she worked up the courage to grab her drink, the bartender turned to pour a shot into a rimmed glass. paige was stunned at the size of the drink, if that was a shot she would have choked trying to get it down. she watched patiently as you grabbed a lime from the counter, putting it in your mouth before squeezing it on the back of your hand. the bartender promptly poured salt on your hand before picking up the entire bottle of tequila.
“this is for me,” the bartender explained and pulled the glass of tequila towards herself, “and this, my love, is for you.” she placed the bottle in front of you and you groaned. paige watched as the bartender took the glass shot before asking if you were ready for your pour. you stepped off the footrest and steadied yourself.
“open wide.” she teased and you did just that. paige tried to pretend that she wasn’t watching but was doing a terrible job. the tilt of the bottle poured a straight line of alcohol down your opened mouth. paige was enthralled with the shape of your tongue - the curve of it alongside the eager licking motion you did sent her reeling, a blush forming on her face. it felt oddly intimate. the bartender poured while praising you, “atta girl, taking it like a champ.” which sent a throb through the athletes stomach. how could taking a shot be so sexy. you tapped on the bar signaling you couldn’t do any more. as she pulled the bottle away, paige’s eyes flicked to yours and you grinned at the tall girl. maintaining eye contact you lifted the back of your hand to your tongue, taking the longest, drawn out and exaggerated lick of the salt - sucking it off in one swipe. paige smiled and bit the inside of her lip before turning to the bartender.
“my drink?” she asked and the bartender handed it over with an apology. “ ‘s all good.” paige replied with a glance between the two of you. she took a sip and leaned back on the bar trying to scope the easiest path back to her friends before her head turned right back to your side profile.
“you got a lil something…” paige motioned toward the corner of your mouth where tequila had spilled from the pour. you touched your face, finding the spot then dragged your index finger up your chin and into your mouth. you took your time sucking and pulling out your finger.
“what’s your name?” you stood on your toes to make sure she heard you. she leaned down and into your tilted neck, brushing dangerously close to your ear.
“paige.”
“nice to meet you, i’ll see your around?”
“maybe.” she answered. paige wanted to catch what you were laying on her but she didn’t want to assume that you were into girls. she was tired of being in situationships with women who ultimately were just going through a phase. she didn’t need that kind of drama, especially right now. she just wanted a night of fun. the bartender called your name and chastised you.
“stop trying to fuck my friend,” the girl chastised from behind the bar, which made you giggle and paige lifted an eyebrow, “you’re crowding the bar.” you threw your hands up in mock defeat. you took one more long glance at paige, blew a kiss to the bartender, and made your way through the crowd.
paige turned to the bartender and tilted her chin down without saying a word, getting an eyeroll in return.
“she straight?” paige asked, pointing with the cup in her hand.
“not even a little a bit.”
“she single?” paige continued to inquire as another person stepped up to order a drink.
“now that is something no one knows.” she answered honestly, leaving paige to search for the answer on her own.
—
you had to be single. there was no chance that you would be in the back closet of the bar, with your leg thrown over paige’s shoulder while she ate you out and not be single. she refused to believe it purely because she wanted you so damn bad and she wouldn’t find any fuck’s to give if you were dating someone. she wanted you and got you exactly where she wanted you to be: whimpering and cursing as she used her skilled tongue. paige’s tongue was sloppy and hot against your core and she was so turned on by how vocal you were. you were shuddering, legs twitching, and just falling to pieces all over her tongue. she could feel you teetering on the line of an orgasm so she got off her knees. you began to protest but immediately gasped at her two fingers inside of you, moving them in a beckoning motion as they hit all the right places. you were still gasping as she talked to you, so close to your mouth but feeling so far away.
“you like that?” she asked breathing in your gasps and merely nodded, “can’t hear you…” she went deeper inside you, forcing you to speak up.
“jesus, i love it.” you managed through heaving breaths which she smiled at. paige’s mouth connected with yours, the kiss slow and sloppy due to you being on the brink of your orgasm. “please don’t stop.” you begged with another sweet whimper. it was music to the blonde girl’s ears.
“i won’t.” she promised and proceeded to go even harder, surpassing your expectations of how good this quickie was going to be. you closed you eyes as you rode the rush of adrenaline that came pulsing through your body. you weren’t sure how you were still standing, every part of your body was on fire and weak. you were stunned to say the very least and then paige began talking you through it and you lost your mind. her voice was velvety compared to the ringing in your ears. she kept telling you how “good you feel.” and how “tight you are, baby.” before sending you reeling into the abyss with a final, “are you going to cum for me?”
after getting yourself together and breathing normal, you couldn’t help but giggle as she showed you her hand which was completely covered in evidence of your orgasm. she let out a hearty laugh and said, “that’s a first.”
“what?” you asked as you pulled up your thong and then you jeans with a wiggle.
“you came so hard, i don’t know what to…” you cut her off mid sentence knowing she was searching for something to wipe her hand off. instead of letting her, you grabbed her wrist and licked every bit of yourself off of her, making her laugh even louder. you gave her a satisfied grin as you bent down to pull up your leather pants and wiggled to get yourself situated. she ran a hand through her hair as she pulled out her phone and cursed.
“they better not leave me,” she dialed her friend and put a finger to ear to block out the bass and shouting from outside the closet. she turned to the door to listen to her friend, “i’ll be there in a minute just wait, ok? i’m being so serious give me a minute. don’t fucking leave me.” she argued half joking, half serious. she hung up the phone and stuck it in her back pocket and turned back to you.
“i’ll see you around?” she smiled down at you and all you did was shrug. paige looped her fingers through the front belt loop of your pants and tugged you closer to her frame. “i’ll see you around, right?” she reiterated with a more serious tone as you looked up at her through your long lashes. paige came to the realization that she just loved looking at you - you were just too pretty for your own good.
“i’ll make sure you see me.”
#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#wlw fiction#wlw fanfic
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Semi-Final Two
Propaganda...
Mr Knightley (2009):
Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST
We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma
GIF by dearemma
I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma
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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.
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Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:
What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)
Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.
And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.
Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing
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I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!
Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.
no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!
He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.
Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!
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A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!
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It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!
Captain Wentworth (1995):
Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.
Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.
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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.
If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.
I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.
This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner
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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.
#hotjaneaustenmenpoll#semi finals#mr knightley#captain wentworth#emma 2009#persuasion 1995#Emma#persuasion#jane austen#ciaran hinds#jonny lee miller
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Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol
Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.
Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]
You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.
He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)
The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.
He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!
Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.
"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.
"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"
Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.
"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."
He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.
"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.
Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.
"Why?" He asked quietly.
"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"
"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"
You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"
Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"
You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."
Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...
He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"
Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"
You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.
You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.
"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.
Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.
You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.
You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.
Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.
"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.
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Rambling thoughts of various Yuri manga I’ve read
1. Kase-San and Yamada (Morning Glories sequel series) by Hiromi Takashima
notice how Kase’s name is first, which is representative of her being the main one to cause problems in their relationship
If you asked me what my favorite yuri manga was like 2-3 years ago, I’d say Morning Glories and Kase San everytime. Every avid yuri fan has either read or watched Morning Glories because, at the time in 2010, it was groundbreaking, and I stand by the fact that the original series still holds up to this day. It was cute, sweet, wholesome and only had a few obligatory “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” moments. Most of all it wasn’t a pseudo-incest-straight-male-porn-pandering-garbage-fest—also known as “Citrus”. Was it cliche at times? Yes, but they all are lol. Did they add to the dumb ass “blonde femme and dark hair masc” trope? Also yes. But it was adorable and it was my first ever yuri so it holds a special place in my heart.
And it SEEMED like it was only going to get better in Kase San and Yamada, the sequel. The girls would be heading to college and the story could theoretically focus on more mature topics while they navigate their new relationship. Keyword: theoretically. Unfortunately, instead of exploring interesting relationship dynamics and storylines, the plot of each story arc boils down to: Kase is insecure because a man breathed next to Yamada or Kase is being completely insensitive to Yamada’s feelings…again…—> ✨miscommunication drama ✨—>big over dramatic apology scene—>boring makeup sex or other romantic gesture.
Literally that’s how every single plotline goes. Kase is so goddamn dumb and insensitive to Yamada’s feelings and Yamada’s a complete doormat who can only stay mad for 0.2 seconds before getting pussy whipped like a spineless ass bitch. And for all that Yamada sacrifices for Kase; her hometown, her dreams, her apartment, what does she get in return from Kase? Oh that’s right; bare minimum romantic gestures and a neglectful partner who can’t even call her “girlfriend” in front of others:
Like I thought we were over this shit. It’s been THREE years of them together, a whole anime production, and god knows how many irl years and we’re going back to “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” WHY???
And then Kase later goes onto bet her entire three year relationship over the ugly bitch in the next panel, so now I’m questioning whether or not Kase even loves Yamada with the amount of bullshit she’s put her through. Which COULD be an interesting plot point, but Kase never gets any consequences for her actions and the creator genuinely thinks this is romantic and full of tension so I’m 10000% positive that this arc, just like all the others, will end with some makeup sex and we’ll be right back to step 1. Sigh.
2. Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu
Tamen De Gushi’s problems are interesting but it’s NOT because of the Chinese government💀
So today’s dark haired masc and blonde femme of the day are Sun Jing and Qiu Tong, respectively. Their personalities aren’t anything to write home about, if you read ANY high school yuri romance, then you know exactly what happens in this story beat for beat. But, BUT, however derivative it is, I find their dynamic very endearing and down to earth. Idk maybe it’s just the translation, but other yuri stories often have this very inauthentic “anime” vibe to it. Which is to say the characters act very cutesy, overly dramatic, and have this stilted, caricature-esque acting of how the creator thinks teenage girls are supposed act.
However, I’m happy to report that Tamen De Gushi is a breath of fresh air in this regard. The characters and interactions they have are grounded and feel organic, which makes them feel like real people, not aliens pretending to be human. This really elevates the humor in turn, oh did I mention that Tamen De Gushi is super funny? Because Tamen De Gushi is super funny, here’s one of my favorite panels and it’s all because of Sun Jing’s goofy ahh expression:
Like go girl give us nothing
If you’re wondering why I haven’t spoke much about the actual romantic relationship between the girls, that’s because there isn’t one💀 Which, okay, that’s not a fair assessment, they have a ton of romantic tension and they flirt a lot. It’s certainly building to a great romantic relationship, but it can’t quite get there due to legal/political reasons sadly. 😔
Edit: I received new information in regards to what happened to Tamen De Gushi. While I reached my limit for posting pictures, I want to point out that the Chinese government had nothing to do with Tamen De Gushi getting censored, rather it was a dispute between the author and the publishing company. The prior information I received was false and I prob should’ve looked it up more so sorrrry. The fact still remains though that after their big lesbian kiss towards the middle of the story and maybe a few other moments, that’s just kind of it. You’re stuck waiting for something to develop, but nothing really happens. The comic very quickly becomes a collection of slice of life segments and cute pictures that imply a relationship between the girls, but not really ;) ;). Now things are just kind of left in purgatory for the foreseeable future and, well, that’s Tamen De Gushi y’all.
Compared to Kase San and Yamada, the characters were much better, which is not saying much, but without an actual romantic storyline, there’s just not a lot for me to comment on to be honest. It’s really pretty though, look at this art :
3. Beauty and the Beast Girl by Neji
my personal favorite and the BEST yuri I ever read
So next on the list is Beauty and the Beast Girl (I’m going to abbreviate to BatBG from here on) , which I already spoiled my feelings on the matter so this will basically be me gushing about this story for several paragraphs straight, enjoy.
Contrary to what the title suggests, it really has nothing to do with Beauty and the Beast’s story except in name. The main girls are Lily Blind, who is actually fucking blind 💀 and Heath the monster girl. Already I’m happy because instead of blonde femme and dark hair butch, it’s blonde femme and of-course-you-have-purple-hair-and-pronouns masc. Lol, all jokes aside, Lily, unlike her blonde femme counterparts is quite assertive and voices her opinions all the time. In fact, she’s the one who pushes Heath to be more open and communicate with her rather than the other way around. This is, in part, due to the story BatBG is trying to tell. I say BatBG is in name only to Beauty and the Beast because Lily isn’t trying to find the “beauty” within Heath or learning to love a beast or whatever, she’s fine just the way she is and her love for Heath is unconditional. Plus the only thing beastly about Heath is her appearance…which I’ll harp on later, but her behavior is in no way different from a regular human except in very rare, specific moments.
At its heart, BatBG is a story about forgiveness (the creator literally says as much) , but it’s also about the cycle of violence that results from being outcasted and deprived of love. BatBG is set in a world of humans and monsters, where the monsters are outcasted and either have to stay away from human society like Heath or assimilate themselves by hiding away their monster like traits, which is a really queer narrative on top of an already queer story. I don’t want to go into too much spoilers, but sometime before the beginning of the story, Heath in-directly hurts Lily before they ever meet. However, it’s not about Lily needing to forgive Heath, or trying to get over the pain she inflicted upon her, rather its Heath learning to forgive herself and in effect, learning to love herself as much as Lily loves her.
Another big aspect of BatBG is disabilities, Lily Blind is in fact Blind lol and while there are times she struggles with her blindness, she never views her disability as something she needs to be ashamed of and never, ever, blames Heath for it or holds it against her unlike what many, many, many, many other stories end up doing. Her blindness isn’t treated like a super power either, it’s a legitimate disability. She just accepts that it’s a part of her and goes onto say that if not for her blindness, she would’ve never met the love of her life, which I found to be an incredibly profound thing to say.
Now that I’ve gotten this far, I suppose I can add a bit of a disclaimer. So BatBG is waaaaay more explicit about the physical affection between the girls than in any of the previous stories I talked about. Heath and Lily are constantly kissing on, hugging, and almost always flirting with each other, and make no mistake, these girls do be fucking. The sex scenes are never perverted or gross, but genuinely super sweet and romantic, which makes it way hotter imo (huh imagine that🤔). And aside from being hot, it also serves a purpose! Lily’s pretty damn horny underneath all her nice girl antics and while it’s not a major part of her character, it does give a slight edge to her personality and, most importantly, balances out the dynamic between Heath and Lily. It would’ve been very easy to fall into that boring trope where Heath is aggressively horny and Lily is the submissive blind girl, but by making Lily be the one to initiate the sexual encounters, it not only compliments Heath’s more reserved nature, but breaks the stereotype that people with disabilities are pure precious being who couldn’t possibly have sex, which is ableist af btw. Many people think the existence of any sex scenes at all is superfluous, but in BatBG, it truly elevates the story, the characters, and the romance in ways that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without it.
Now, with as much praise I gave BatBG, there is one criticism I have, but it’s a quibble really, and it can be explained in a single image:
There is a dissonance between the story and the art, the story says: “Heath is a big, ugly scary monster”
The art says:
And like yes, it can be argued that Heath is simply regurgitating the things bigoted people have said to her, but at no point in the story is this ever challenged or brought up in any meaningful way. Lily is blind so she doesn’t know what the hell she looks like and the other characters aren’t any help either. It’s not a big deal or anything, it just would’ve elevated the story if Heath was actually kinda ugly/more monstrous and not incredibly beautiful because right now it’s giving skinny girl who calls herself fat all the time, and it’s like, babe, who tf are you fooling? 😭
Other than that, BatBG is incredibly profound despite its premise being so deceptively simple and I love it to pieces so …yeah! READ IT.
4. Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime
Well, at least there are no blondes
So imma just abbreviate to SiL btw
Alright, let’s get started. The premise is that a villainess falls for the super hero girl and then that plotline is dropped in about 16 pages. I’m not even joking, the villainess falls for the hero, loses her job as a villain and then joins the hero all in one chapter. The REAL plot is actually about a council of evil alien-humans who want to destroy humanity because of generic super villain reason #434: the leader of the aliens is sad and misunderstood :( I’m not even going to lie, I had 0 interest in “X” (the generic ass name of the main villain) and her band of useless lesbians. They did literally nothing in the story except be a nuisance and contribute to X’s incel breakdown at the end. Their inclusion actively made SiL worse because the story has this weird tonal problem where in one breath the villains are portrayed as complete jokes and then you turn the page and now they’re shooting children like girl what💀 And these useless lesbians hog sooooo much of SiL that desperately needed to be given to Honey trap and Hayate to develop their relationship.
When the story DOES actually focus on Honey Trap and Hayate, it’s pretty good, even cute at times, there just wasn’t enough time given to them to flesh their relationship out. As it stands, Honey Trap and Hayate don’t have much of a dynamic, or personality for that matter. Honey Trap’s main gimmick is that she’s extremely horny for Hayate and delulu:
Aside from that, she’s a great value version of Heath, but even a watered down character is better than, like, nothing. All I really know about Hayate is that she’s nice, heroic, likes wearing tacky clothes and ….that’s it. She loves Honey Trap because…………they fought together a few times so why not🤷♀️ I’d say at least that’s better than Tamen De Gushi, but actually it’s not because these grown ass women don’t even kiss , all we get is a love confession and their gremlin love child and that’s supposed to be satisfying I guess.
And the worst part is that SiL has the audacity to pretend the romance was something that it clearly wasn’t:
Girl…yall were “””enemies””” for 10 panels.
Now, it’s stated they have been rivals for a while, but I guess Honey Trap forgot all of that because the moment she sees Hayate’s face, my good sis is pussy whipped for life. And that’s in spite of apparently being the evilest one out of the evil group because Honey Trap has no grudge or baggage toward Hayate. She immediately turns good with no issues and Hayate is only distrustful of Honey Trap for 1 or 2 speech bubbles and then she’s not. Anything else that happened was off screen, which means it didn’t happen. Ironically, the very next entry on this list will do a MUCH better job at an ex-villain love story, but for SiL, there’s just not much going on.
Another reading of this story is to call it a “parody” but…no, it isn’t. SiL isn’t a comedy, yes there are comedic moments that poke fun of the genre, but the rest of the story genuinely wants you to take it seriously. Except it can’t. X and her league of dimwits are boring as piss and they oscillate between Saturday morning cartoon villains and child murderers seemingly on a whim. So I can neither be endeared to them nor take them as a serious threat. Honey Trap and Hayate are there, but I lament on all the potential lost from what could’ve been an amazing relationship.
5. Yamujiburo/Kianamaiart’s Hanamusa webcomic
This one is kind of cheating, but I also don’t care let me talk about hot MILFs💀
So the final entry on this list is a webcomic series by one of my fave artist: kianamaiart! And it’s right here on tumblr so check it out!
I stumbled upon this webcomic a few weeks ago, fell in love and now I want to talk about it. This yuri pair thankfully has no blonde femme in sight and instead features two popular Pokémon characters: Jessie from Team Rocket and Delia Ketchum, Ash Ketchum’s mom. What I love about this ship and the world Kiana creates around them is that it’s a very unconventional pairing. There’s just not many romances where a single mom falls in love with an ex gang member and the best part is, Delia being a mom is a big part of her character and she doesn’t ignore Ash in favor of her new relationship with Jessie. She has time for both and doesn’t prioritize one over the other, which many ppl fail to do even irl so good on you Delia!
Now, as for the romance it self, Jessie and Delia are a unique pair. Jessie’s overconfident, brash, drama queen personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “dominant” role and Delia’s sweet, motherly personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “submissive” role. Their dynamic in the webcomic actually plays out in the reverse, Jessie is the one who gets easily flustered and Delia’s…intense, to say the least:
(But Tbf if Delia looked at me like that I’d be at her beck and call too💀)
This subversion of these tropes creates a fun dynamic for the couple and it’s super adorable to see how their energies bounce off each other in each new situation Kiana puts them in. I also love how both Jessie and Delia inspire each other to live out their dreams and they become better versions of themselves by being together.
And one last thing, I don’t have any smart commentary to go along with this, I just really like this drawing of Jessie:
no thoughts, head empty
Final Thoughts
Soooo yeah, that’s the end of my dissertation on yuri comics. I know I ended up dragging a lot of popular yuri, but it wasn’t my intention to make you guys hate any of things I talked about. These were just my thoughts as an avid yuri fan, so let me know your thoughts as well, especially if you read any of the yuri I talked about. And even though I’m super picky about the type of yuri I read, I’d still love to hear any recommendations. Who knows, it might dethrone the undefeated champ that is Beauty and the Beast Girl.
#Yuri#yuri manga#long post#Anime#manga#lgbt#lgbtq+#wlw post#kase san and morning glories#tamen de gushi#beauty and the beast girl#superwomen in love#hanamusashipping
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— Unforgettable ( 1 )
part one • part two • part three • part four
pairing: e-1610!miles morales x fem!reader
contains: miles rizzing you up after knowing you for two seconds, a beef patty changing the entire course of trajectory for your life. nothing too major
summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 1,634
a/n: this was originally going to be one long fic but i decided to split it up, and i’m estimating around four, maybe five chapters in total. also, chapter one is cute but i thought i should let y’all know that two of them will contain some angst/conflict! this is the first series i’ve ever written so it won’t be the best, and i’m still deciding if i like how i mapped out the rest of the story so please bear with me if updates are a tad irregular 😅
next
To think, a damn beef patty is what started it all.
A beef patty that had tumbled out of your hands, down the sweater you’d just taken to the laundromat— your favorite one, at that— and onto the dirty bodega floor when a hard surface came in contact with you on your way to leave.
“Oh shit—“
“Jeez, what the hell man!”
You lunch gone and your good mood with it, your head lifted a great distance from the murder scene at your feet to meet the apologetic face of who had committed this unjust crime against your rumbling stomach.
“I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going…” The boy in front of you murmured sheepishly, palm dragging at the back of his neck.
Lips pursed, your forefinger and thumb pinched at the bridge of your nose as you willed yourself to refrain from cursing him out. New york already had enough of that, you decided as he continued apologizing.
“It’s my fault. I bumped into you, it’s fine.” you grumbled curtly, clearly irked. Shifting the blame onto yourself was your best attempt at keeping your anger at bay. The last thing you wanted to do was cut up in this nice man’s shop, especially not on a Sunday.
With a heavy sigh and a scratch to your brow, you crouched down and swiftly scooped the discarded meal off the floor with a napkin. Great, money down the drain.
“Let me buy you another one.” He said to the top of your green adidas beanie, palms pushed together to accompany his plea.
“No need.”
“I really wanna buy you another one.”
You shot up and tossed the remnants into the trash, your frustration evident in how much forced you used. “Dude, it’s—“
“I’m buying you another one.” he insisted, chin raising when he hollered at the clerk. “Yo, Lenny, lemme get another beef patty, man.”
He shuffled past you before you could decline again, the man behind the counter already sliding a fresh one past the register after having witnessed the run in.
You stared at the back of this stranger, brows furrowed incredulously. He was nice, which was unusual for someone in this city, so your innate response was to be annoyed at his persistence. People were always bumping into you and ruining your day, but no one had ever offered to fix it before.
“That’s the last one I got for the day, Miles.” Lenny, the owner of the shop informed apologetically, his Jamaican accent heavy on his tongue. He knew the boy usually came into his store around this hour for one thing, and it was always for one of his beef patties.
“It’s cool, don’t sweat it.” Waving him off, Miles slapped the cash down onto the counter and snatched the pastry up.
“Here,” He turned to you just as you were brushing your hands off onto your dark-wash jeans, breath held with what he hoped would be a peace-offering, extended out to you. “I’m sorry, again.”
You looked up at him, then back down at the patty in his hand before you gently accepted it, the pads of your fingers lingering in his palm when you did so.
“Thank you,..” trailing off, you blinked up at him, a silent request for his name. He was tall, kind of lanky, and had the prettiest brown eyes you’d probably ever seen. They stared back at you, appearing puzzled before he put the pieces together.
“Oh!— Miles.” he answered with a warm smile, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. It was green, your favorite color.
“Thank you… Miles.” you returned his smile with a smaller one, something about it contagious.
Caught up in the way you said his name for a moment, it wasn’t until you were already halfway out the door when he realized you hadn’t told him yours.
“Wait! I didn’t get your—“ he called out to the air, the bell on the shop’s door a taunt of his failed attempt. “Name.” he murmured, shoulders falling with a sigh.
He felt eyes on him and turned to the side, lips smacking against his teeth in annoyance at who’s stare he’d caught.
“Don’t be mad at me, man. You gotta step ya game up.” Lenny threw his hands up in surrender and stifled a laugh, shaking his head at the boy.
Even though he had nothing to be smiling about when he exited the small store—seeing as he was out of five dollars and still hungry—Miles found himself walking home that day with a smile etched onto his face, a little pep in his step and something to keep his mind busy.
Nothing happened, that was obvious, but for some reason he felt like this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you.
—
Exactly one thing was on your mind the next time you entered Lenny’s shop, and he already knew what it was before you’d opened your mouth to ask after approaching the register.
Well, maybe two things, but the second one wasn’t necessary to get into.
“Comin’ righ’tup, sweetheart.” He nodded at you.
“Thanks.” You smiled sweetly, idly tapping your hands against the counter during your short wait.
The white parchment paper cradling your all time favorite snack slid over to you a minute later. You paid quickly, your stomach rumbling just from smelling the savory treat.
Just as you went to turn around, you spotted that same boy who’d ran into you a week ago and nearly ruined your day. Miles, you remembered his name was, as you stuck an apprehensive hand out in front of you, patty pulled close to your chest and brows raised in warning.
“Chill,” He laughed, his hands shooting up in defense. “I’m out your way this time, promise.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, his playful demeanor rubbed off on you. “You better be.”
“Please don’t tell me you got the last one.” He pleaded with hopeful eyes, but wishful thinking never did much for him.
“She sure did.” Lenny called from behind the counter, eyeing Miles closely to see if he’d take the bone he threw. He then ticked his head to the side with a slightly widened stare, as if urging the disappointed boy to make a move.
“Woops.” Using your fingers, you ripped a piece off the patty and popped it into your mouth, shrugging as you brushed past Miles, who had just caught on to what the shop owner did for him.
With your back to him as you pushed the door open to outside, you missed the two fingered salute Miles shot towards the man as a thank you.
He followed after you, swiftly shouldering himself through the closing door and sliding outside, into step with you.
“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number for half of it.” He offered with a boyish grin, long legs able to keep up with ease.
You nearly choked, steps halting when you spun around to face him. What made him think you wanted his number? And maybe you did, because you definitely thought he was cute, but that was besides the point since he didn’t know that.
“Are you flirting with me?” you asked, and he perked up a bit.
“Depends. Is it working?”
You rolled your eyes. “How about my name first?”
He shrugged, leaning back against the side of the building a bit. “I kinda assumed that was a package deal, seeing as I’ll need something to save your contact under.”
Okay, you’ll admit it, that was smooth.
You put your hand on your hip, patty in the other with your head tilted in thought. “Somehow, I feel like this deal benefits you more than me.”
“That‘s possible.” Miles chuckled, and you can’t believe that’s all it took to convince you. How pretty he looked when he laughed. How good your name sounded rolling off his tongue when he’d repeated it back to stake it within his memory.
You quietly hummed to yourself, contemplating. You’d never accepted a guy’s advances this easily, and figured you’d test him in a way he’d most likely fail.
“Quick, what’s my favorite color?”
There was a pause.
“Green.”
Your jaw dropped. “What— How in the hell?” You gaped at him. “How did you know that?”
“You give away more than you know with your eyes.” He grinned. “Saw you eyeing my jacket last week, and you’re doing it again today. And your beanie, too.” With a raise of his eyes from yours, he pointed out the forest green hat pulled snug over your head and your hand mindlessly went to touch it. “But honestly, I was only like, seventy percent sure, so maybe you can call it a lucky guess.”
You quirked a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m checking you out now?”
“No, but I wouldn’t mind.”
Well, you’d managed to lose at your own game, fair and square. Holding his gaze for a minute, you had to restrain a smile from splitting through your calm and collected facade and shooed away the urge with a clearing of your throat.
“Phone.” You held your hand out, beckoning him for it.
Fetching it from his pants pocket, he did the same to you with his other hand, palm upwards. “Patty.”
Huffing in frustration, you awarded him the half he earned and snatched the device, ignoring the triumphant look on his face as you punched your digits in.
—
It was pitiful. It barely took anything for you to take interest in a guy in general— but even if your standards were ridiculously high, there was no doubt that Miles would have weasled his way into your thoughts regardless.
You’d checked your phone at least six times in the past hour in hopes of seeing a text, coming up with unconvincing excuses like checking the time, or the weather— all while blatantly pretending to be oblivious towards the possibility that a message from an unknown number might just be there, too.
And then it came.
[Unknown]: Best patty I’ve had in a while. Food always tastes better when it’s not yours :)
He had you on your stomach, features pulled into a hopeful smile with your legs fluttering in the air off one message. You’d remind yourself to get a grip in due time.
Who’s this?
You knew damn well who it was. But you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t play hard to get.
[Unknown]: Damn, you forgot about me that quickly?
You clicked the info button in the top right corner of your phone and saved him as a contact before you replied.
Maybe. Remind me of your name again? Micah, right?
[Miles]: Okay, now that’s just hurtful. I do not look like a Micah!
You laughed to yourself at that, flopping onto your back as you typed a response. In the back of your mind you wondered if things would progress any further than this conversation.
But if only you could’ve time travelled and spoken to your future self, because she would’ve told you that forgetting about a boy like Miles Morales, or trying to, would be impossible.
tags: @cctoma
#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#miles morales x reader#miles morales x fem!reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#miles morales x black!reader#miles morales x black reader
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"my favorite set of stairs is the one up to Your Room"
"let's tangle our legs again, the world doesn't need us to leave our heads. let's tie our breath in knots again, nothing's complicated if we pretend."
synopsis// a normal morning for you and megumi.
pairing// megumi fushiguro x gn!reader
word count// 812
contents// just pure fluff ! also not explicitly specified but you both are adults :)
requested// by an anon!
notes// i don't usually post oneshots mid smau buttt im making an exception bc this is rlly short and fluffy ! anywho this was also inspired by 11:11 by waterparks!! i was gonna use deep red by movements as inspiration but i think 11:11 fit more sigh... dw movements... you'll get ur time to shine eventually...
You blink the sleep away as you take in your surroundings, realizing you're on Megumi’s chest with your hand draped over his waist and your legs tangled together. You yawn, softly rubbing your face against his chest as if trying to get any bit closer to him, and when his heartbeat drumming in your ear starts to sound like a lullaby, you know it's time to get up. So you do.
Kinda.
Your version of getting up right now consists of lazily lifting your head up to stare at Megumi, who’s still fast asleep. His eyelashes brush up against his flushed cheeks—you can't help but reach your hand up to caress his face, and who can blame you? When he’s asleep like this, looking so at peace, it’s almost as if he's begging you to hold his face in your hands, and when you do, it’s like you have the whole world sitting right there in your palm. and as if he can feel you touching him even in his sleep, he smiles, and you find yourself falling in love with him all over again.
The scene before you is just serene, and yeah, maybe you wake up to this every morning, but it never grows old. In fact, it just gets better with time, and you’re over the moon to have all the time in the world with Megumi. ...Except for right now, because you really should be getting up and getting ready for work. You drop your head against his chest and take a deep breath, silently wishing time would just pause so you could stay here, but alas, it does not.
You lift your head again and litter a series of small kisses against his jaw, soft enough that they shouldn’t have woken him, yet he stirs awake, as if you’ve effectively pavlov’d the poor boy to associate that small, soft feeling with you leaving. Megumi wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you in place. You honestly have no idea how he has this much strength when he’s literally half asleep, but you embrace it—his hold on you is as calming as a weighted blanket.
He tucks your head beneath his chin and slurs, “Don’t go.”
You hum and tuck your head further into his neck, placing chaste kisses against him, reveling in how he shivers. "I have to.”
"No, you don't.”
You laugh softly as you pick your head back up to look at him, his eyes half-lidded, looking like he could fall back asleep any second now.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs sheepishly, collapsing under the weight of your gaze.
"Don't I always?”
He lazily lifts his head to kiss you, but his coordination is horrible due to the fact that his brain isn't even entirely awake right now, so his kiss lands more on the side of your mouth than fully on it. He groans at his failed attempt.
“Kiss me.”
"Yes, your majesty,” you tease.
You ignore Megumi's sleepy glare, instead leaning down and softly pressing your lips against his. You do this a few times, feeling Megumi smile into the kiss, yet it’s all onesided, and you pull away with a huff.
“Why am I gonna kiss you if you’re too lazy to kiss back?”
“Because you love me?”
"Sure, whatever,” you mumble, pressing your hands against his chest to push yourself off of him, but he doesn't give you that chance, instead grabbing you by your wrists to prevent you from getting up any further. "Megumi, I need to go to work.”
He doesn't say anything; instead, he opens his eyes—still lidded, but now he doesn’t look sleepy; now he just looks like he's giving you puppy eyes… Because he is, and he’s evil because he knows your conviction crumbles right then and there at the sight of them.
"Don't look at me like that,” you say, turning your head away from him.
Megumi doesn’t accept that and releases one of your wrists to grab your jaw, forcing you to face him. “Like what?”
“You know what.”
He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Stay? Please?”
You sigh and drop your forehead against his, mumbling, "Megumi, I have to go to work.”
You hear him tut before pushing you off of him and rolling onto his side, his back facing you, as he bitterly mumbles, “Whatever.”
You roll your eyes, yet a fond smile adorns your face. “You’re such a big baby.”
“Go to work; leave me alone.”
"Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
You quickly hop off the bed and get ready for work, not leaving without littering a few more kisses on Megumi’s face, who’s already sound asleep once more. You’d be more sad about leaving him if you didn’t already know that tomorrow morning would play out exactly like this again and the next. And the morning after that. And after that—and probably forever after that.
©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#bimbo's one shots#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#bimbo’s one shots; jjk#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen one shot#jjk x gender neutral reader
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Five
Chapter Five: Soundtrack of Life
Plot: Y/n, Joel and Ellie journey to Bill and Frank’s house, where Joel and Y/n are forced into a conversation.
Word Count: 11.2k
Warnings: tlou ep.3 spoilers, language, guns, canon-typical violence, mention of killing (16+)
A/N: You guys blow this thing up more and more each week and I’m blown away each time. I see all your lovely comments, even if I don’t respond. A gentle reminder that this is a 16+ fic and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their name on their page. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀
Regarding this chapter, I did NOT intend forit to be this long. I honestly thought because the episode was all about Bill and Frank that it would be the shortest, but here we are. It contains one of my favorite scenes of the entire series, I’ll let you guess which one it os 😉
—————————
May 16th, 2002. Austin, Texas.
Y/n considered herself a fairly confidant person. She kept her fear reserved for things like family emergencies, natural disasters…things out of her control.
Not first dates with men she’d known a week.
She was pacing her kitchen, heels clicking against the linoleum floor and her sundress swishing each time she looped around. Her hands wrung themselves against her abdomen. She had never felt so nervous about a date, not even in high school. She figured it was a warning sign of some type. Either she was making a huge mistake or a fantastic decision. She rested her head against one of the cabinets and prayed it was the latter…
Outside Y/n’s complex, Joel had just parked his truck. Dressed in a long sleeved plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, jeans and dress shoes, he felt constrained. Like his chest had expended three sizes and the shirt was no longer able to accommodate it. Or was he just hot? Hungry?
Joel tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shut his eyes. He was nervous.
It had been at least one, maybe two years since he’d been on a date. A neighbor’s daughter that Joel had felt obligated to go out with so that it would sate his street in their constant attempts at setting him up. It had been much longer since he’d voluntarily sought someone out. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself it wasn’t marriage. They were just going to dinner. If nothing happened, it wasn’t the end of the world…
Joel sighed, but he wanted something to happen…
He picked up the roses from the passenger seat, a nod to the night they’d met, pocketed his keys and stepped out of the truck. He felt dazed as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. 41B, Y/n had told him. When he reached the door, he hesitated to knock. Such a minuscule part of the night, but the mere act of coming to her door felt like the beginning of…everything.
Three raps broke Y/n from her panic party.
She’d put on an old record, hoping it would ease her nerves. It hadn’t done a thing. She stood up straight, drawing a deep and tried to force confidence through her body.
When Y/n opened the door, Joel lost any and all words he’d been thinking over in his head. She was dressed in a simple yellow flowered dress, but it was her wearing it that melted Joel. She looked like sunshine itself.
“Hi,” she smiled.
“Hi,” Joel exhaled, “Sorry if I’m late.”
Y/n looked at the clock near the door, “Only a minute. I think I can excuse that.”
Joel huffed a nervous laugh. What came next?
“These are for you,” he stated, holding out the flowers.
Roses. Y/n was shocked that Joel had remembered the tiny detail of their night in the bar. Tommy’s nickname was going to stick so long as she stuck around the Millers, she had a feeling…
“They’re gorgeous,” she giggled, “You’ve got a good memory.”
Joel gave a half shrug, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans after.
Y/n felt like her brain had stopped processing for a split second. She jumped back to reality, “Come on in, I’ll go get these in some water.”
Joel followed her into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It was modest, minimally decorated but the walls had pictures strung all over them. He could already tell she was more sentimental than materialistic. The roses had been a good decision.
Y/n made her way to her kitchen, carefully balancing as she crouched down to dig through her cabinets for a vase. Flowers. He’d brought her flowers. What guy did that on a first date? Was that a Texas gentleman thing? She didn’t particularly care, it was one of the sweetest gestures someone had ever made towards her. And tying it back to the night they’d met made it that much sweeter.
“Nice place,” Joel called from the entry area. The apartment was open so if the front door was one end, the kitchen was stretched twenty feet away from it.
“It’s decent,” Y/n replied, filling the vase with water, “Moving was such a spur of the moment decision, I didn’t think I was going to find anything.”
Joel awkwardly balled his fists at his side, he didn’t want to walk too far and cross a line. It was only then that he realized there was music playing.
“Linda Ronstadt,” he blurted.
“Oh yeah,” Y/n smiled, heading over to turn off her record player, “You like her?”
“Love her,” Joel replied, good taste in music was another box ticked for him.
“Okay,” Y/n announced, more to encourage herself, and crossed the room, “All set.”
She grabbed her purse off the hook and Joel opened the door for her.
“Where are we going?” Y/n asked as she locked the door.
This was the part Joel was dreading most of all. “Yeah,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets, “There’s a place ‘bout ten minutes away called Tito’s. It’s, uh, it’s not the fanciest place but-“
Feeling a sudden, and most likely brief, wave of confidence wash over her, Y/n turned around and put her hand on Joel’s chest.
“Hey,” she smiled, “I don’t care about any of that. I work in a hardware store, I’m not expecting Seasons 52.”
Weight both lifted and slammed into Joel’s chest. If Y/n’s laugh could warm it, her touch could give it new life.
A corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “Okay.”
With an affirmative nod, Y/n allowed Joel to lead her down the stairs, open the car door for her and take her deep into the Friday night Austin scene…
—————————————
Tito’s had ended up being the perfect place.
There was very little a fancy restaurant could add to a date. Sure, the setting could be romantic, but that didn’t guarantee romance. At the end of the day, whether you went to the biggest hotel in the city or a fast food joint, it all boiled down to feeling that spark.
Joel and Y/n’s spark could have set fire to Austin.
“So wait,” Y/n tried to contain her laughter, they were seated out on the patio, “Tommy seriously nailed his pants…to the wall?”
Joel took a swig of his Budweiser and shrugged, “And tried to blame the nail gun.”
Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted, “So no tequila the night before a job anymore, huh?”
Joel shook his head, pointing off into the distance, “And a mile down the road, he just shot straight up in bed because I told you that story.”
Another round of laughter. “Oh gosh,” Y/n sniffled, “Can’t imagine what you two were like as kids.”
“You have any brothers or sisters?” Joel asked, every time he asked her a question, he got to stare at her. It had made him more chatty than usual.
“Two,” Y/n answered, “Sister and a brother, both older.”
“Baby of the family,” Joel observed.
“Yes, and as the age-old tale goes,” Y/n scrunched her nose and smiled, “I’m the little lost bird. Brother’s an Ivy League english teacher who vacations in Europe every year. My sister’s married to a ridiculously successful doctor and just had a baby.”
Joel listened carefully, coming up confused. “I’m not following,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “What about that makes you lost?”
“They’re both very settled,” Y/n answered, swirling her beer, “They both knew exactly what they wanted in life and they went for it. One of the whole reasons I moved to Austin was to try and find that…thing, you know?”
Joel nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” he decided to lighten the mood, “And the hardware store’s it, huh?”
Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes, “No, the hardware store’s not it. But it makes me happy.”
“That’s a step in the right direction, then,” Joel commented, never taking his eyes off of her.
Y/n could have sat there for the rest of the night just enjoying the warmth of his stare. “So,” she shook herself out of the daze, “What about you? Is construction your thing?”
Joel laughed under his breath, “Pays the bills. Wasn’t originally what I saw myself doin’, but it’s work.”
“What did you want to do?” Y/n asked.
“Music,” Joel answered, “Guitar.”
Y/n’s eyes widened, “You play?”
“I used to,” Joel said, knowing the question that would come after. That was the true test…”Still do sometimes, just for myself.”
“What made you stop?”
Joel sighed, staring down at the condensation that his beer had formed on the table. Either he was about to bring the night to a grinding halt or…well, he hadn’t seen the second option yet. From anyone.
“I met someone,” he started, “We had a kid. She ran out on me pretty soon after. Not a lot of time left over to go around playin’ gigs.”
The chatter around them seemed to fade as Y/n took in the reality of Joel’s answer. He was a single father, and had been for a while, it seemed. All of him made complete sense suddenly. The constant worry lines on his face, the responsibility, the work ethic…
“Boy or a girl?” Y/n took a chance and asked.
“Girl,” Joel answered, a small smile coming to his face, “She’s about to turn thirteen.”
Y/n continued, “What’s her name?”
Joel was surprised, more than surprised, that Y/n wasn’t running the other way. There weren’t a lot of women who willingly took on single dads. Here she was wanting to learn about his little family.
“Sarah.”
Y/n nodded, letting the information rest on the table. “Sarah,” she echoed, “What’s she like?”
“She’s…” Joel let out a laugh under his breath, “She’s incredible. Gets straight A’s, plays soccer, got room in her heart for just about everyone she meets…”
Y/n listened enthusiastically as Joel told stories about his stories as a single dad. How Tommy was helping to raise Sarah, how the three of them were extremely tight knit, how he wished his long hours didn’t interfere with getting to spend time with her…not even for a second did she think about leaving.
“You love her so much,” Y/n blurted before she could think it through. She just had to say it.
Joel smiled warmly over his beer bottle, “She’s my world.”
It was a moment so tender, it almost broke your heart. Joel was letting Y/n closer than anyone else had gotten…ever. And she wasn’t pulling away, she was digging in.
Inside the restaurant, there was soft music playing over a dance floor. Joel and Y/n had eyed it all evening, wondering if their night would inevitably end up there. From outside on the patio, they could hear the song change to one they both knew.
“I love this song,” Y/n said in passing.
Joel had been waiting all night for his nerves to calm or for the perfect song to transcend pass the anxiety. This was as good as it was going to get.
“You wanna dance?”
Y/n’s smile spread across her face, “Yeah.”
Joel stood and held out his hand for Y/n to take, their palms tingling at the touch. He kept a loose hold on it as he led her into the building, snaking through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Their were couples packed wall to wall, but they were able to find a pocket of space just for them.
Y/n’s heart did double time as she rested her hand on Joel’s broad shoulder. Joel pulled her towards him, connecting their hands and holding them up. They hadn’t yet been this close and it felt as intoxicating as they thought it might.
Joel’s hand rested on the higher part of Y/n’s hip. He exhaled shakily, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Slowly, they began to sway to the soft guitar.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you….
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do….
They moved as one, Y/n’s gaze resting over Joel’s shoulder because she knew if she looked in his eyes, she’d be overwhelmed.
Joel’s desires were doing battle with his self-control. He wanted to wrap himself around her entirely, leaving no space between their bodies. He would, of course, leave it up to her. She got to decide where the night went.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…
Their chests brushed against each other, sending a thrill through their bodies. The second it started to fade, Y/n chased it, inching closer to Joel till their torsos aligned.
Joel’s head instinctively turned towards her just as she looked up. Y/n’s nose grazed his cheek, his beard delightfully scraping her skin. If they had intended to make eye contact, they never made it there. With Joel’s breath fanning her face and the scent of his cologne enveloping her, Y/n didn’t dare move and disturb the perfection.
No, I don't wanna fall in love…
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
Feeling confidant that she wouldn’t pull away, Joel’s arm slid around Y/n’s waist, his hand resting across her lower back. Y/n’s skin felt inflamed, like the building’s walls had fallen and the heat of the night was swallowing her whole. Her cheek fell against Joel’s closing the very last bit of space that laid between them.
No, I don't wanna fall in love…
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you…
That was it, it was a done deal. There was nothing left for them to do but let themselves fall. Their hearts hammered in time with one another, their respective anxiety intertwining at the base of their souls and transfiguring. Instead of a storm, raging, crashing, knocking them over, it became a wave, powerful and passionate. Drawing strength from each other, they allowed the full force of their feelings to flood them.
When the night was over, Joel drove Y/n back to her apartment. They’d chatted on the drive over, but the dance had left them both stunned. Where was there to go from there? What were they supposed to say when a whole conversation had been had in each other’s arms?
They walked up the stairs, coming to Y/n’s door and nervously pausing.
“I had a great time,” Y/n said, fiddling with her keys in one hand.
“Me too,” Joel smiled, broader than his usual thin lipped smirk.
The space between them grew tense. Who was supposed to ask who out for a second date? Were they supposed to kiss? What was-
“So…” Joel set aside all his excessive thoughts, “Did I earn a shot at a second date?”
A laugh rippled through Y/n’s body, thankful that he’d been the one to bring it up. Drawing from Joel’s confidence, she closed the space between them and placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder.
“I think your chances are pretty good,” she softly told him.
Joel’s heart throbbed at both Y/n’s touch and her words. His hand found its way to her waist, not wanting to let the closeness go just yet. They only needed to move a few inches, just a few measly inches and then they’d have it all.
Joel’s breath fanned Y/n’s lips as they allowed themselves to be drawn into one another. The delicious space, hanging on the edge of desire and satisfaction, was enough for them. That was how they knew there was something different to what they felt. Just to be close was enough.
“Maybe we should wait,” Y/n whispered in their shared space, pressing her fingers into Joel’s shoulder a little, “Wouldn’t want to rush anything.”
The tip of Joel’s nose rubbed hers, admitting a defeat that didn’t feel like one. “Wouldn’t want you to think you can take advantage of me or somethin’,” Joel smirked, “I have my reputation to think of.”
Y/n’s laugh mingled with Joel’s, her skin tingling as he brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.
“I’ll call you,” Joel assured.
“I hope so,” Y/n smiled before daring to press her lips to his cheek, “Goodnight, Joel.”
“Goodnight,” Joel choked out, the touch of her kiss paralyzing him.
She unlocked her front door and headed in, Joel stood on the welcome mat until the lock clicked. Alone in the concrete hall, he boyishly kicked his foot and grinned.
Y/n rested her forehead against the front door, shaking her head and grinning.
Joel got down to his truck, started it up and fell back in his seat.
Y/n laughed against the door, playing the night back in her head.
Joel smiled and slapped the steering wheel.
They felt weightless.
—————————
2023. Outside Boston.
Grief hung like a storm cloud over the group.
Y/n had left Joel and Ellie to make a lavatory out of nature, and was walking back. They’d camped overnight in a forest, a few miles outside of Boston. Joel had instructed they were leaving as soon as the sun came up.
When she got back to their camp, she found Ellie sitting up against her tree near the creek, Joel’s jacket draped over her legs.
“He’s still not back?” Y/n asked.
“Nope,” Ellie popped her lips.
Y/n rolled her eyes, if Joel was going to boss them around, he needed to comply with his own demands. She set off into the forest, going the same way he had.
The sound of the larger creek welcomed her. She scanned the area, looking for Joel’s tall frame and finding nothing. She slapped her hands against her legs in a shrug, if anything had happened to him, they’d be dead too. Where was-
The scrape of stones caught her ear.
Y/n gazed down to see Joel, hunched over on the river’s bed of rocks. With a fair bit of distance between them, Y/n could see him stacking stones. He was building a cairn.
He was building Tess a grave.
Y/n’s feelings contradicted themselves. Joel’s loss of the woman he cared for felt karmic, in a way, and yet the sight of him, so broken and empty, reminded her that bitterness had no place commingling with loss.
She didn’t disturb his memorial, she simply leaned against a nearby tree. Tess’ last wish hadn’t been selfish, she had begged for protection for Joel. They were, perhaps, the most heartbreaking final words Y/n had ever heard. She’d promised Tess, what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Tess die in a horrific sacrifice thinking that Joel would meet her soon after.
Y/n sighed, letting her head hit the tree. The day was already exhausting her.
She decided to let Joel have a few extra minutes, walking back to their campsite. Ellie was in the exact same position as when she left. All of this trauma was being rehashed for one girl, but Y/n still believed she was worth it.
Footsteps behind her signaled that Joel was back from his solitary service. He didn’t look in either Y/n or Ellie’s direction, only trudging to his backpack and squatting beside it. It had been a near silent walk from Boston, Ellie asking Y/n an occasional question or Joel giving directions. They were all avoiding each other for different reasons.
Joel blamed Ellie.
Y/n blamed Joel.
And Ellie blamed no one, but could sense tension when she saw it.
“You want your jacket back?” Ellie asked Joel, testing the waters.
Joel continued digging through his backpack, responding with a small shake of the head. He still refused to look at her. The only gesture he made was after digging out and taking a bite of food, he threw the remainders to Ellie.
“I’ve never been in the woods,” the girl continued talking, “More bugs than I thought.”
Y/n leaned up against a tree, waiting and watching how the interaction played out.
“Look, I’ve been thinking about-“ Ellie started.
Joel rose to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.”
Ellie sat forward, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”
Joel’s eyes scanned Ellie before looking to Y/n, who simply raised an eyebrow at him. She was in total agreement. And the truth was, Joel didn’t have a reason to put any of what happened on Ellie. But he wanted someone to be angry with, someone to fling his grief at so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it any longer.
The rational side of him won out. He gave Ellie a small nod, mentally collected himself and picked up his rifle. It was time to hit the road.
Ellie got up and handed Joel his jacket, “How much longer?”
“Five-hour hike,” he answered.
Y/n collected her backpack, tied her jacket around her waist and came to stand with Ellie.
“We can manage that,” the girl shrugged, she was the most confidant out of all three of them.
Joel glanced over at Y/n again, the two of them communicating their indifference wordlessly, before turning on his heel.
Y/n put a hand on Ellie’s head and waited for Joel to be out of earshot, “Attagirl.”
Ellie smiled up at the woman and they fell in step a few feet behind their guide.
Joel got them out of the woods and onto a dirt path, leading their party silently and expecting the same in return. Y/n was perfectly content not to utter a word, but Joel was quickly learning something she already knew; Ellie didn’t do “quiet.”
“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?”
“Not often, no,” Joel answered.
“What are you looking out for?” Ellie asked.
“People.”
“Oh,” she rested a beat, “Are Bill and Frank nice?”
“Frank is.”
Y/n stepped forward to walk alongside them, keeping to Ellie’s side. “You haven’t told us anything about them,” she spoke up.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Joel answered.
“I’m entrusting two strangers with our lives,” Y/n scoffed, “There’s a lot to tell.”
“They’re good,” Joel said with finality to his tone.
“Oh, well…” Y/n mumbled under her breath, she was over the whole What-I-Say-Goes front.
Ellie was undeterred by their bickering. “How’d you get that scar on your head?”
Joel sighed, already exasperated and it was barely morning.
“What? Is it something lame?” Ellie inquired excitedly, “Like, you fell down the stairs or something?”
“I didn’t fall down any stairs,” Joel answered.
“Okay, so what then?”
Joel paused before speaking, “Someone shot at me and missed.”
Y/n hated the jolt of concern that shot through her chest. Old habits and all that.
“See, that’s cool,” Ellie insisted, “You shoot back?”
“Yeah,” Joel said.
“You get him?”
“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.”
Ellie thought it over, “‘Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?”
Joel glanced at her, vaguely insulted, “In general.”
Ellie fell back a step to get a look at Y/n. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Y/n echoed.
“How’d you get this scar?” Ellie poked the white mark on her bare shoulder. She didn’t feel comfortable touching Joel, but she was comfortable with Y/n.
By now, Y/n had scars littered all across her body. Ellie could have pointed to almost any one of them and she would have had to think about where it came from. But the one in the rivet nestled between her scapula and her clavicle was one she could never forget.
“A bullet ricocheted off a wall,” she answered, “Hit me instead.”
“That’s slightly less cool than his,” Ellie commented.
Joel caught himself before he hung back a step to get a look at the mark. It was instinct to worry about her.
“You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us,” Ellie began, “I was thinking I should prob-“
“No,” Joel cut her off, already knowing what she was after.
“Yeah, well, Y/n might feel different,” Ellie said, looking to her only ally.
“She doesn’t,” Y/n answered, smirking slightly at her blind enthusiasm.
They walked a few more feet before coming up on a once-white building.
“Cumberland Farms,” Ellie read the sign.
“Hang back a minute,” Joel instructed them both, though he knew it was useless, “I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”
“Stashed?” Ellie questioned as she followed, “Why do you have stuff stashed here?”
“You ask a lot of damn questions,” Joel complained.
“Yes,” Ellie smiled, owning every bit of her personality, “I do.”
Joel forced open the door to the old storefront and they entered. It looked just about the same as how he and Tess had left it a few years back.
“So are you gonna answer me or what?” Ellie continued.
Joel relented, “We hide supplies on routes, in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am ‘cause-“
“No way,” Ellie zipped over to the other side of the room, honing in on an old arcade game.
Joel ignored her, Y/n simply smiled to herself.
“You ever play this one?” Ellie asked without really seeking an answer, “Oh, I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena, who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth-“
While Ellie continued chattering, Joel was pacing the floor, trying to remember where his hiding place had been. Y/n crossed her arms and watched amusedly.
“You forgot where you put your stuff,” Ellie stated.
Joel was quick to defend himself, “No, I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.”
Ellie and Y/n peered over at one another, sharing a knowing smirk.
“Go see if you can find anything in back,” Y/n instructed, Ellie would have gone even without the prompting, “Practical.”
“Trust me, it’s all been picked over already,” Joel grunted, shaking a wall display.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Ellie replied in a sing-song tone, “Is there anything bad in here?”
“Just you,” Joel called out.
“Ah,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “Getting funnier…”
Y/n set down her backpack, deciding to help speed up the process so they could get back on the road. She walked over to a section of floor that Joel hadn’t searched yet and started kicking around.
“I don’t need help,” Joel muttered.
“If we leave it to you and your shitty memory,” Y/n strained as she shoved a shelving unit with her shoulder, “We’ll be here till dark.”
Joel didn’t want to get drawn into an argument, he also couldn’t resist the person starting it. “My memory’s fine.”
“Oh, really?” Y/n waved a hand across the floor, “Point to the treasure.”
Joel’s lips thinned in frustration, mostly with himself for not being able to find the stash before she latched onto it.
“It’s somewhere on this aisle,” he begrudgingly told her.
“This aisle,” she repeated, the two of them going in opposite directions.
After a minute or two, there was a sound from the back room. “You all right back there?” Joel called.
“Yep!” Ellie replied.
“How likely is it that she’s doing something she shouldn’t be?” Joel asked Y/n, who had weeks more experience curbing Ellie.
Y/n jumped in place on a loose piece of the floor, “100%.”
Joel exhaled and continued searching, eventually feeling a slight raise in one of the tiles. He kicked a few old newspapers aside to discover his hiding spot. And better yet, he’d found it before Y/n did, taking away the opportunity for gloating.
He knelt down and flipped open his pocketknife, cutting open the cover and removing it.
Y/n stopped her hunt and came to crouch down next to him, visually sifting through the supplies. There wasn’t much.
It went against Joel’s natural programming to not be concerned when the back room went silent. Ellie had been gone long enough to have picked through everything at least twice. “Ellie?”
No response.
Now Y/n was on edge as well, rising with Joel. She raised her voice a little louder than him, “Ellie?”
They both unholstered their guns, walking in rhythm together towards the back room. Joel stuck a hand out to form a barrier between whatever unknown threat might have been lurking and Y/n. She annoyedly shoved it away and aimed her gun at the doorway.
They unclenched when Ellie walked out, touting a box of tampons. “Picked over, my ass,” she commented.
Y/n and Joel returned to the stash, Joel unloading his assault rifle and Y/n picking through a tin of first aid supplies.
“What are you doing?” Ellie asked Joel.
“There’s not much ammo out there for this thing,” he replied, bringing the lid back down over the supplies, “Makes it mostly useless.”
Ellie saw an opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…”
Joel stood to his feet and made direct eye contact, “No.”
Y/n stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulder and lightly pushed Ellie ahead of her. Tess was no longer there to keep occupy Joel and she wanted to put as much space between the two of them as possible.
They were on the dirt road for another hour or two, time didn’t seem to matter in the middle of nowhere. Ellie barely complained, content to take in all that nature had left to offer. At some point, Y/n and Joel had fallen in step with one another. Even sworn enemies would have cracked under pressure and started hurling insults at one another. Their ability to stay silent with one another was unmatched.
“So,” Ellie eventually killed the quiet, “Are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Y/n replied.
“Why you two broke up.”
Joel scrunched his eyes shut, the darkness of his lids a more preferable place to be.
Y/n took the hit and answered, “We never said we dated.”
“You didn’t have to. You knew each other in Texas but you don’t talk,” Ellie began to list off her reasons, “And when you do talk, it’s only to fight.”
“Friends fight too,” Y/n suggested.
Ellie scoffed, “Not like you two.”
There was passion that bled through Joel and Y/n’s arguments that was only born from love. It was one thing they’d never be able to change.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Ellie continued, “I’ll just know that I’m right.”
Joel stopped short, putting a hand up to Ellie and trying to stay calm. “You do not need to say every fuckin’ thing that pops into your head,” he said, driving certain syllables harder than others.
Ellie was unfazed by him, turning her gaze to Y/n. “Was he always this grumpy?”
Y/n sighed, her time in Austin was a piece of her past she didn’t want anyone having. The obviousness of her and Joel’s fractured connection bothered her, it made it that much harder to sever it entirely. She picked up the pace again, getting ahead of Joel and Ellie.
Joel’s eyes followed her, something inside of him twinging against his will. He spared a glance at Ellie and continued on the path.
“Yeah,” Ellie smiled to herself, “They dated.”
They walked a little further before Ellie got distracted by something in a field. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed.
Up on a hilltop lay the rusted remains of a plane crash. The three of them stopped, it was getting harder for Joel and Y/n to remember a world where things like airplanes had existed.
“You fly in one of those?” Ellie asked,
“A few times, sure,” Joel answered.
“Yeah,” Y/n said.
Ellie’s excited eyes scanned the wreck, “So lucky.”
“Didn’t feel like it at the time,” Joel recalled, “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay twelve bucks for a sandwich…”
“Or hit turbulence,” Y/n remembered.
“You got to go up in the sky,” Ellie stated, her voice filled with wonder. Another simple pleasure stolen from her…
Joel had always been more of a realist than Y/n, who wanted Ellie to hold on to whatever pieces of happiness she could. “Yeah, well, so did they,” he added, killing the levity of the moment.
“Grim…” Ellie commented as they continued walking. “So everything came crashing down in one day?”
“Pretty much,” Joel answered, giving Y/n space to interject. She’d gone silent again.
“How?” Ellie asked, “I mean, no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”
Y/n almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Almost.
“It wasn’t a monkey,” Joel answered, “I thought you went to school.”
“FEDRA school,” Ellie replied quickly, “They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”
Joel sighed, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to know how her world was destroyed before she’d even gotten there.
“No one knows for sure, but, best guess,” he began, “Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, all across the world. Bread, cereal…”
Joel and Y/n didn’t have to look at one another to know they were having the same thought.
“Pancake mix,” Joel continued, “You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thrusday night or Friday morning. Day goes on…they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse,” Joel paused, a flash of blood coming to his mind, “Then they started bitin’.”
Y/n shut her eyes, as if it was all playing out in front of her again.
“Friday night,” Joel was able to push out, “September 26th, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”
Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or stay quiet. Her entire world had come crashing down in a span of 72 hours.
“It makes more sense than monkeys,” Ellie said, then looked at Joel, “Thanks.”
“Sure,” he replied. Joel still wasn’t sure what to do with her, but he was trying. He only had to try for a few more hours, anyway.
Y/n kept her eyes down as she walked, only stopping when Ellie and Joel fell out of step. Joel had his arm stretched over Ellie’s chest to keep her in place.
“What now?” Y/n asked, nearing her breaking point with patience.
“We’ll cut across the woods here,” Joel directed.
“Isn’t the road easier?” Ellie asked.
“Yeah, it’s just,” Joel took a breath, looking ahead to Y/n, “There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”
Y/n chortled, she couldn’t take any more of his mood swings. One minute he didn’t care, the next he was watching out for their sensitive eyes?
“Well, now I have to see,” Ellie sang, walking ahead to join Y/n.
“I don’t want you to,” Joel pushed.
“Newsflash, Joel,” Y/n announced, “It’s the fucking apocalypse. We’ve all seen things we don’t want to see.”
Joel paced after them, chasing Ellie more than his ex, “I’m not kidding. Ellie!”
“Can it hurt us?” Ellie asked as Y/n fell behind her.
“No,” Joel answered truthfully.
She spun around to face him as she strolled, “You’re too honest, man, Should’ve said axe murderer.”
While Ellie walked ahead, Joel sped up to match Y/n’s pace. “I’m serious, she shouldn’t see it.”
“You know what,” Y/n didn’t break stride, “I’m sure our delicate little sensibilities can handle whatever it is.”
Anger is intoxicating, but it can also be all-encompassing. It can numb all other senses, blinding all other emotions until the red is staining every part of someone’s perspective. Y/n’s rage with Joel was deceiving her into thinking everything that came out of his mouth was either an insult or an overreaction. Joel knew that the second she found what he was trying to shield her and Ellie from, she’d regret it instantly. But it was futile to fight her.
“Uh, whatever it was,” Ellie called from the front of the group, “Think it’s gone.”
Y/n felt sure of herself as she trudged on, until the details of Ellie’s expression came into view and she followed the girl’s eyes. There in a ditch, lay skeletal remains. If you reconstructed them, they probably made up about a dozen people.
“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…” Joel started to explain to Ellie, “Went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were…if there was room…if there wasn’t…”
“These people weren’t sick?” Ellie inquired.
“No,” Joel replied, “Probably not.”
“Why kill them?” Ellie continued, “Why not just leave ‘em be?”
“It was their fucked up way of trying to contain the infection,” Y/n spoke up, trying to hide her trembling breath. It wasn’t the first open grave she’d seen, this was one of the easier ones to stomach. This was all bones.
Y/n turned on her heel, eager to get as far away from the hellish memories as she could.
————————————
Eventually, they made it to where Joel told them Bill and Frank lived. It was a small chunk of a town completely gated by a tall fence.
“Stay here,” Joel instructed Y/n and Ellie before punching in the entry code on the gate’s keypad. He let them go through first, it was the only place safe enough to do so.
Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was the first time she’d seen an actual town in…she’d lost count of the years. The white picket fences, the boutique shops, the houses. Actual houses. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, it reminded her so much of Austin.
The three of them walked to Bill and Frank’s house, the nicest looking one on the block. Joel took notice, however, that the flowers decorating the front porch were dead. Scorched by the sun. Bill would never let that happen.
He opened the front door, taking cautious steps into the entryway. Y/n and Ellie followed close behind.
“What the fuck,” Ellie elongated, it was probably her first time inside an actual house.
“Bill?” Joel called out. No answer. “Frank?” Nothing.
Shit.
“You stay there,” Joel directed Ellie, not looking Y/n’s way since she was going to do what she wanted anyway, “Ya hear anything, you see anything…yell.”
Joel and Y/n didn’t make it more than one step before Ellie spoke up, “What if they’re gone?”
No. Joel couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to grieve over one more person.
Y/n set off down the hallway, keeping her pistol drawn at her side. Joel had gone through the kitchen, but the two rooms were connected. They made it to the bedroom door at the same time, Joel knocking and jiggling the knob. Nothing.
“Would they leave?” Y/n asked.
“No,” Joel shook his head.
The back porch door shutting got their attention.
“Ellie?” Y/n called, getting nothing in return. She set off back to the dining room where they’d left her, Joel just a step behind.
She was sitting at the table holding a piece of paper. Her expression was undeterminable, like she was between emotions and deciding which one to land on.
“It’s from Bill,” she finally told them.
Y/n sighed, holstering her gun, taking off her backpack and settling into a chair between Joel and Ellie. Joel put away his weapon too, neither of them needed to pretend there was any hope.
Ellie scanned the envelope the letter had come from, “‘To whomever…but probably Joel,’” she tossed it back onto the table, “I figured I fell under “whomever.” It came with this.”
She slid a single car key across the table.
Joel shrugged his backpack off next to Y/n’s, but wouldn’t sit. “So they’re dead?”
“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed.
Joel turned away, the very little emotion he let himself feel coming to the surface.
“You-you wanna?” Ellie offered.
He shook his head, “Go ahead. You do it.”
Y/n leaned against her knees, holding her hands to her lips, bracing herself.
“August 29th, 2023,” Ellie began to read, “If you find this…please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe-“
Ellie looked up in confusion, Y/n gave a small nod for her to continue.
“Take anything you need,” she kept going, “The bunker code is the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost…And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do, and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep-“
Ellie sucked her bottom lip, not knowing how to proceed. None of them had to ask what the next two words were.
Joel stepped forward robotically and took the letter, reading the rest over silently. Tess’ name struck a blow to his body, he wanted to curl in on himself.
“Stay here,” he mumbled, striding towards the front door with barely contained hurry.
Y/n shut her eyes, keeping her hands in a praying position. It was the first time in twenty years she couldn’t tap into the anger that lived inside her. She felt pure sorrow that Joel had to lose someone else he loved, regardless of whether he’d ever admit to loving Tess.
Outside, Joel took deep breaths that at one time would have been described as cleansing. But he felt no better when he inhaled than he had before. Bill’s letter weren’t just his last wishes, it was a call to action. He couldn’t have known the situation Joel was in when he wrote it, but he supernaturally addressed every part of it. He lifted up a silent apology to Tess, for not being able to save her.
Joel crumpled the letter in his palms and let it drop to the grass. He held up the key Bill had left him, forcing himself to move to the garage doors and open them.
Y/n and Ellie sat up straighter upon hearing the noise. “Stay here,” Y/n echoed Joel, rising up and heading out to see what he was doing.
She walked around to the open garage doors to see Joel hunched over the front of a truck. The hood was open and he was investigating its internal organs. Y/n had barely caught a glance at the empty spot where the battery should have been before Joel slammed it shut. There went that happy thought…
Joel’s eye caught the refrigerator nearby, a couple cans of oil and other auto supplies sitting on top of it. Bill had been a survivalist, it was his nature to prepare for every possible outcome. He crossed the space and opened the fridge, spotting the materials needed to construct a car battery from scratch
He smirked, maybe they had been friends…
Y/n joined him at the door, she was no mechanic but the men throughout her life, Joel and Tommy included, had taught her enough about car repair to know they were battery parts. A spark of hope lit inside her.
It dwindled in both her and Joel when the reality of what it meant hit them.
Y/n suddenly felt too close to him, she moved away and crossed her arms, going to stand on the furthest side of the truck. Joel didn’t move until she stopped, coming to stand on the other side of the vehicle. They wanted a proper barricade between them.
Y/n had made a promise to Tess that she would protect both Ellie and Joel. In the moment, it had seemed like the only honorable thing to do. Now, staring down the task itself, she wanted to admit her selfishness and run. Run back to the QZ, back to the Fireflies, back to the only semblance of safety she had. And with every turn she made in her mind, Ellie was waiting for her. Ellie was at the center of this all. She was the job. Everything else came second.
“If we do this,” Y/n started, her words slowly and cautiously calculated, “You are going to have to start treating me like an equal. I am not some delicate flower that you need to protect and I’m not some child in need of protection. We’ve already got one of those. I live in the same world you do. I didn’t hesitate to kill that Clicker,” she pointed behind them as if the monster’s carcass was present, “And I won’t hesitate going forward.”
Joel looked up at her out his eyebrows, “Can you blame me, last time I knew you?”
“We don’t need to keep bringing us up,” Y/n shook her head, a joyless smile on her face, “We are completely different people. Matter of fact, think of us as strangers. We only know each other from this point forward.”
Joel thought it over a second, accepting the truth of it. “Okay,” he said, “But you have to trust me that I know the best way to get to Wyoming-“
“I don’t trust you,” Y/n retorted.
“I don’t trust you either,” he echoed, bitterness rising to both their surfaces.
Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, if this was going to work, they needed to put away all of their past. Not just the good parts.
“We have to put this on ice,” she said, “What matters…is her. That is all that matters. Not us, not what happened…her.”
Joel’s thumb twitched against the hood of the truck. There were many questions he’d been wanting to ask Y/n, but there was one that was non-negotiable if he was going to take on this task with her
“Do you actually believe that she’s the answer to this?”
Y/n’s face softened, only slightly, but enough for Joel to see the gleam hope in her eyes. “I do,” she replied, earnestly.
Joel breathed a heavy sigh, looking down at the truck. He glanced back up at Y/n, scanning her up and down as if to take full stock of the woman she was now. “Okay.”
Y/n nodded, her body alight with apprehension. “Okay.”
A ceasefire had been called.
“I’ll start on the battery,” Joel announced, eager to get away from the conversation as quick as he could, “Can you do a once over on this thing?”
“Yeah,” she answered, forcing past the hurdle that was doing something Joel asked of her.
They worked in silence, Y/n checking that the car was in working condition and Joel constructing their battery. It was the first time they’d been able to tolerate each other’s presence in the last two days.
After a half hour, when Y/n was long past done, Joel stepped back and examined his work. “It’s gotta charge for a while,” he announced, “But it’ll work.”
“Okay,” Y/n sighed, glancing over at him before heading back out the garage. Joel was close behind.
They came back into the house, finding Ellie waiting for them at the table still.
“Show me your arm,” Joel ordered, he needed to be 100% certain that she was safe to transport.
Ellie stood and rolled up her sleeve, the second bite still had blood caked around it, but it was clearly healing. They had no reason to doubt it would continue that way.
“I just finished makin’ a truck battery,” Joel said, “It’s charging right now.”
“Okay,” Ellie replied, her face showing a hint of hope.
“And I have a brother in Wyoming,” Joel continued, “He’s in some kinda trouble, and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. And my guess is he knows where some of ‘em are out there. Maybe they can get you two to wherever this lab is.”
Ellie’s eyes bounced between Y/n and Joel, “All right. Uh,” she began to fiddle with her hand, “Listen, about Tess-“
Joel held up a hand, he took a second to collect himself before speaking. “If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves.”
Y/n made a mental note of where Joel was emotionally.
“Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your…condition,” Joel focused his eyes on Ellie, trying to drive the point home, “They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three,” he pointed between him and Y/n, “You do what we say, when we say it. We clear?”
“Yes,” Ellie answered.
“Repeat it,” Joel demanded.
Ellie took a breath, “What you say goes,” she looked between the two adults once more, “Are you two gonna be able to get along?”
Joel glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, who was leaned up against the door frame. She had her hands tucked behind her as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. They communicated their truce with their eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” Y/n said to Ellie, maybe saying it would make it so…
Joel sighed, it felt like he was signing on a metaphorical dotted line. “Okay,” he finally said.
The three of them stood in the dining room, all with their own separate reservations but with no choice in the matter. They needed each other, even if no one dared to admit it.
“So what now?” Ellie broke the silence.
“We grab what we can,” Joel responded, “Let’s check the bunker first.”
He brushed past Y/n, who followed with Ellie in tow, and located the hidden entrance to Bill’s bunker. Joel climbed down the ladder first into the pitch black room. Flipping on the lights revealed walls of canned goods, guns, supplies, various tools and first aid kits. In the middle lay a desk setup with a laptop playing music and monitor screens showing footage of outside the house.
“Ho-ly shit,” Ellie said for both her and Y/n, “This guy was a genius.”
“Little bit,” Y/n added, scanning the walls, “Back then, everyone called people like him crazy. I’m guessing he was okay with it.”
Joel went to work at the computer, switching off the song.
“Why was the music on?” Ellie asked.
“If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks,” Joel explained, “This playlist would run over the radio.”
Ellie glanced over the screen, assured now of her theory from the day before about Joel’s radio codes. “‘80s.”
Joel didn’t really care anymore, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.”
Ellie wasn’t so easily distracted, she was still gazing at the guns. “Dude,” she started to draft another pitch.
“No,” he replied without even looking up at her.
“There’s a whole wall of them,” she declared, as if that made a difference.
Joel shot her a glare, signaling there was no discussion to be had. Searching Y/n out again and receiving a frown in response, Ellie backed off and went to collect the canned goods.
Y/n traced her fingers across the wall of guns. She doubted her pistol was going to get them very far. It had taken an assault rifle and an axe just to kill the Clicker that had attacked them.
She loathed to ask Joel for help, but she was good at shooting, not specs. “Which one takes the most basic ammo?”
Joel peered up from the monitor screens, the sight of her standing amongst so many weapons was still a little shocking. “That beige and black one,” he nodded in her direction, “Standard shotgun.”
Y/n nodded once in awkward thanks and removed the gun from the wall, testing the weight and feel of it. She crossed the room to one of Bill’s work tables and took a box of bullets, stuffing it in her jacket pocket.
“I’m gonna start upstairs,” she announced, strapping the shotgun over her back and climbing up the ladder.
The three of them worked around the house, collecting any and all supplies they could possibly need. Ellie found toilet paper, Y/n found some unopened dry goods, Joel found clothes for them. It was strange to think that once upon a time, desires had felt like essentials. A new TV, concert tickets, expensive wine…Y/n felt like she was seeing heaven when Joel pulled out a box of women’s t-shirts.
Joel monitored the battery closely, it wasn’t charging as fast as he wanted it to. “Needs another hour,” he told them.
“They have hot water!” Ellie exclaimed, soaking her hand under the garage’s running faucet, “I’m takin’ a shower. And then you’re showering, because seriously,” she turned to Joel and scowled as he headed back to the house.
Joel stopped what he was doing, unsure of how to respond. “I smell that bad?”
Y/n was sorting through some shelves, collecting a few tools they could take with them for the truck. “I’m not even answering that,” she replied.
Joel took what he could from her answer. “You take the next one,” he offered, trying to put his money where he mouth was and bench their grudge.
“Should I be offended?” Y/n fired back, raising one eyebrow. “Thank you,” she finally said.
Joel gave a nod in reply before getting back to work.
Y/n eventually headed inside to wait for Ellie to be done. The girl emerged with wet hair in fresh clothes.
“That felt so good,” she groaned in happiness as she passed Y/n in the hall.
“I bet,” Y/n smiled, “There extra towels in there?”
“Yep,” Ellie called, she was already halfway down the stairs, passing Joel as she descended.
If Y/n and Joel had dodged any awkwardness in the past 48 hours, it had boomeranged back around and slammed into them. They stood in the hall, keeping three feet of space between them and struggled for words.
“I’ll be quick,” Y/n said finally, heading into the bedroom that connected to the bathroom.
“Sure,” Joel replied, fiddling with his fist at his side.
Showers were one thing that no one ever took for granted anymore. Water supply in the QZ wasn’t consistent, one day you could have warm water and the next it’d be ice cold. You couldn’t count on anything to stay the same. So when Y/n had complete control of the temperature and made it burning hot, she felt like she could cry from pure joy.
Joel stood outside the bedroom door, leaned up against the wall. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Sweet images of early mornings with Y/n stormed past his defenses, flooding his brain. How she looked with wet hair, the smell of her skin after using some soap he couldn’t remember the name of…he tried to ignore the fact that it was all on the other side of the door.
Y/n emerged from the shower a few minutes later, having gotten all the dirt out of her hair and nails, and wrapped a threadbare towel around her torso. She quickly dried off and changed into the new clothes Joel had found them. It was a plain t-shirt, a men’s button up to go over it and a plain pair of jeans. Gone were the days of dressing up because you felt like it. It was a stupid thing to miss, but Y/n felt the loss regardless.
Dressed, she opened the bathroom door. The sound signaled that Joel could come in.
He came around the corner, having just put his memories to bed when he saw her. Pruny, barefaced and natural…the way he’d always loved her.
“All yours,” Y/n muttered, unable to break the eye contact they held.
Joel cleared his throat and his mind, “Thanks.”
“I’m just gonna be here,” Y/n gestured to the dresser and the attached mirror, “Try and get a comb through my hair.”
“Okay,” Joel nodded.
He walked past her, their shoulders brushing as he did, and closed the bathroom door behind him. It was the first time they’d touched in twenty years.
Now anger was rarely ever born from just anger. No one hated someone just to hate them. There was always something deeper beneath it. More often than not, anger found a companion in heartbreak. They’d collide, morphing together to make something so complicated, you couldn’t tell one apart from the other.
Y/n reached for a spare comb, her trembling hands causing her hair to catch in the teeth. Harboring the anger had been effortless, it was a fire that stoked itself. It was the pain, the flame that started the blaze, that was causing her to feel like she was burning, from the inside out.
The tears welled in her eyes, she refused to let them fall until her reflection was nothing but a blur. She dropped the comb on the dresser, and fell back onto the bed. It could no longer be contained.
Joel had broken her, destroyed her. The loss of him was a hurt that had refused to fade with time. She could feel her heart splitting back open just being around him, the same way it had the day that they’d parted. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break the way she had after he’d left. With the simple act of calling a truce and playing nice, she had reopened the wound she had spent twenty years trying to heal with her unbridled bitterness. She was bleeding out.
On the other side of the door, Joel was propped up against the shower with one hand. Rivulets of the stream dripped down his hair and face. He stared down at the drain, his emotions mixing and swirling much like the water at his feet. Joel had never considered himself particularly favored by the world. There were only two times when he’d felt like there was some higher power bestowing happiness upon his unworthy head.
The first was when Sarah was born, when he got to hold her for the first time.
The second was when Y/n entered his life.
Now her mere presence felt like a punishment. A reminder of what he’d done to her, a child’s taunt of a love he could never go back to. Knowing she was on the other side of the wall caused every muscle in his body to tense. Joel was still himself, regardless of what the pandemic had turned him into. The guilt he’d long tried to drown was rising to the surface, threatening to rebel and throw him underwater. Mixed with the fresh loss of Tess, he was overwhelmed. If he didn’t keep repeating the same three things to himself, she lied, she’s a liar, she’ll lie again, he would collapse entirely.
Y/n sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying over Joel. She wished for blind hatred, not the memory of his smile. Bitter regret, not the ghost of his lips. She couldn’t take another time of looking into his eyes and seeing the man she had loved with her whole heart.
Had they known that with a mere twelve feet of space and one shoddy door between them, it still wouldn’t have changed anything. Their chapter was over.
Needing distance, Y/n got off the bed and combed her hair as she walked down the stairs. She found Ellie seated in the front room at the piano.
Ellie turned to her and smiled, “Well, that’s an improvement.”
Y/n bristled, “Be nice to me. I am keeping you alive, after all.”
Ellie hummed as if that was up for debate and turned back to the piano, “You ever learn to play one of these?”
“A little,” Y/n replied, coming to join her, “I played as a kid, not as much when I was an adult.”
“You wanna play something?” Ellie suggested, it didn’t feel like it was for Y/n’s benefit so much as her own.
Y/n motioned for Ellie to make room and settled in next to the girl. It had been over twenty years since she’d felt ivory beneath her fingers, and this one was a beautiful model. She wracked her brain for songs where all the chords were still intact.
She placed her hands accordingly, pressing down on the first keys.
“Slow down, you crazy child,” she softly sang, “You’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?”
“You can fucking sing?” Ellie cried excitedly.
“Where's the fire, what's the hurry about,” Y/n kept going, “You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day.”
Ellie swayed a little, taking in the curiosity of the person she hardly knew, yet liked better than anyone. She couldn’t help herself from sneaking a finger onto a key and quickly pressing down.
“Don’t mess me up,” Y/n laughed as she continued to play, “But you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.”
Joel had just pushed his wet hair back and buttoned up his shirt he’d found. Renewed by the hot water, he grabbed the stick of deodorant he’d used and left the bathroom. The music and it’s sweet accompaniment drifted through the bedroom door, hitting Joel and rendering him breathless for a moment. All he could feel was her, wrapping her arms around him with each word.
Ellie continued to hit random keys at inopportune times, Y/n’s knocked her shoulder against hers.
“You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through,” Y/n crooned, her grin causing her to enunciate differently.
Joel quietly made his way down the stairs, feeling his body unnaturally relax with each note Y/n sang. Her voice hadn’t changed at all.
“When will you realize,” Y/n did a little flourish with the keys, leaving Ellie no room to mess with the melody, “Vienna waits for you.”
When she removed her hands, Ellie clapped and whooped. The mood had been so dark since the day of the shootout, it felt like a single ray of light was shining down on them.
Joel watched her sing the last line from the hall, it was like his memories had come to life right in front of him. How hard was it to bury the past when it was everywhere you looked?
Ellie turned around and saw Joel, “Well, don’t you look pretty.”
Y/n rotated on the bench and faced Joel. It was unfair that he seemed to be getting more handsome with age. With his hair slicked back and his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, it stirred up a singular butterfly in her stomach. She was quick to put it down.
Joel’s eyes flashed to Y/n before catching himself and looking back to Ellie, “Shut up.”
He tossed her the deodorant. “Nice,” she commented, swiping it on before handing it to Y/n. “Hey,” she trailed after Joel, “Did you know Y/n can sing?”
Y/n snorted as she used the antiperspirant. Ellie was the only thing keeping her spirits up on the trip. Everything else hurt, but the young girl’s joy acted as a balm.
Joel went back out to the garage to confirm the battery was charged up. He installed it quickly and headed back into the house. “We’re good to go,” he announced, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
Ellie and Y/n grabbed their jackets and bags, the three of them filed out of the house in hopeful silence. They shoved their things in the back seat of the truck, leaving one side clutter-free.
“Why don’t you take the front?” Y/n suggested to Ellie, already climbing in the back.
Ellie jumped into the passenger side, a toothy grin spread across her face as she started fiddling with the foldout mirror.
“It’s your first time in a car?” Joel asked from beside her, not the slightest bit amused.
“It’s like a spaceship,” Ellie said wondrously.
“No, it’s like a shit piece of Chevy S10,” Joel grumbled, “But it’ll get us there…I think. Seatbelt.”
Ellie glanced up from playing with the radio dials, confused.
Undeniably in sync with each other, Y/n reached through the gap between Ellie’s seat and the window as Joel reached over the girl and pulled the belt over her body. “Seatbelt,” Joel repeated.
Ellie took it from him and clicked it into place, “So cool…”
Y/n watched from over their shoulders. It wasn’t lost on her how it had taken no time for Joel to start acting like a parent again.
Joel started up the car as Ellie dug through the glove compartment. She held something up to Joel that Y/n couldn’t see.
“Put it back…” Joel directed, “Ellie…”
Ellie ignored him, popping in the cassette tape and hitting play. Soft guitar rang through the truck’s speaker system. Ellie was about to skip the song when Joel and Y/n piped up at the same time.
“No, no, wait-“
“No, leave it.”
Their words collided, surprising them both. It was the first thing they’d agreed on.
“This is good,” Joel said as he made a turn, “This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?”
“You know I don’t know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Ellie rolled her eyes.
Y/n smirked from the back seat before the nostalgia washed over her again. The song had been a favorite of hers for decades, but there was one night in particular she distinctly remembered playing it on.
Joel drove down the path that led to the gate, letting the song fill the cracks of him left by all the beauty disappearing from the world. There was still a musician living inside him. “Oh, man…” he muttered.
In the rear view mirror, Y/n and Joel’s eyes flickered to one another. The second their gazes connected, they diverted them back to the road. In their minds, they were back in Y/n’s shitty apartment, leaving for their first date.
“Eh,” Ellie remarked, “It’s better than nothing.”
Y/n couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbled from her lips, nor could Joel hide his flash of a smile. She was going to make them both feel ancient before their journey was over.
Joel pressed the gate code on the remote Bill had left in the garage, the gate opening for them like the parting of the Red Sea. Even he, in all his jadedness, felt some sort of hope.
Y/n settled against the window, taking one last look at the town Bill and Frank had kept up over the years. Their legacy was one not of sadness, but of renewal. They had supplied her, Joel and Ellie with the resources to go forward with their journey. They were helping them in their mission to change the world. It was a kindness she’d never get to thank them for, but she’d certainly never forget.
They drove into the sunset, golden hour embracing them and welcoming them onto the open road. Maybe, just maybe, this was the turning point for them…
————
A/N: Just an FYI, we hit the 50 mentions limit so the taglist will be split between the post and the comments :)
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 @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed
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THE GERUDO POST
(aka an attempt at a critique of how gerudos were handled in BotW and before)
Oh no. TOTK being right around the corner, it might finally be time for the Gerudo Post.
(aka half of the reason why I made a Zelda sideblog in the first place)
So I want to preface all of this by saying that, as you could probably tell already, I’ve always adored the gerudos. They have fascinated my small child brain when I was 7; then the obsession made its comeback when I was 14, and now, here we are, almost 28, and I’m still thinking about the gerudos. I think they might be among my favorite fictional cultures for their potential and their understated storyline. I guess growing up in a very Arabic neighborhood, coupled with being bi-culturally latinx (?? does Brazil count?? you tell me), also always made them feel like home to me –especially when I was very young and there was not a lot of cool female representation flying around that managed to involve fiercely independent PoC women, flaws and teeth included.
This whole weird-essay-thing tries to do two things. First: analyze the place gerudos have occupied in the series, their initial problematisms and their subtextual narrative arc during the Myth Era coupled with their relationship to Ganondorf. Second: tiptoe to Breath of the Wild and poke it with a stick to see what happens –and in doing that, explain why I believe a lot of their characterization was defanged in service of smoothing their past with the hylians instead of deepening the culture on its own terms, and why I’m a little apprehensive about what that might mean for TotK even though I adore seeing the best girls at it again.
Those are the uhh terms of service??
And now, we must go back to 1998.
OCARINA OF TIME ERA
There’s so many things about the gerudos that are noteworthy and rich, and they’ve made for a complex piece of Zelda lore ever since their introduction –and when I say complex, I don’t 100% mean it as praise. The very racially charged decisions made about their inclusion have been discussed at length by the fandom, especially when it comes to orientalist and Islamophobic tropes being deployed pretty thoughtlessly in Ocarina of Time (their sigil being literally a crescent moon and star originally, the parallels are pretty obviously there).
We’re talking about a band of amazon-like, big-nosed brown women from the desert ruled by a single Scary Evil Man born once every hundred years hellbent on conquering Hyrule who they apparently worship like a god, characterized primarily as thieves, decked in jewelry and orientalist-inspired harem/belly-dancing clothing, hostile to the white good guys of Hyrule (especially men), unblessed by the Goddesses and so deprived of elongated ears (this is true for OoT –we’ll come back to that), also known as a demon tribe with their deity straight-out described as evil-looking by Navi (on my way to cancel you on twitter Navi you watch out), and secretly led by evil twin witches who can turn into a single seductress and, as two mothers, raised their Scary Evil Guy king who happens to basically be the devil.
In so few words, gerudos are the future that liberals want.
It’s worth notice, also, that Ganondorf’s characterization in this game is… kind of relentlessly uncomfortable to play through, especially before the 7 year skip. The utter assumption of depraved and evil intents from every character surrounded by dialogue that does little to hide its biases in spite of having generally very little proof to back them up –even though, in the game’s context, every character is correct to call his eyes evil and the darkness of his skin a moral judgment in on itself. The scene where Zelda demands that we believe her conclusion that the sole and only brown guy in the entire kingdom is evil and will do harm, and the game straight out refuses to progress until we concede that her dreams are prophetic and that this man must be stopped at any cost even though she has no more proof than her discomfort… hits different on replay.
I’m restating all of this not to pretend I’m making a novel and thought-provoking point, but to bounce back on a tumblr post I saw a while back (that I can’t find anymore!! I’ll link it if I find it again) –and so express what it is that gripped me with the gerudos in spite of their pretty damning depiction… and actually maybe thanks to it.
There’s a surprising amount of texture to Ocarina of Time’s worldbuilding that exists folded within the things introduced and left hanging, or in its subtext –and whether on purpose or not, I believe it is why people keep coming back to this iteration of Hyrule.
What was that about the king of Hyrule unifying a war-torn country? Why did the gerudos break the bridge connecting them to the rest of the kingdom during the 7 year timeskip while still worshiping Ganondorf, and why are the carpenters trying to rebuild it against their apparent wishes? What was that about gerudos imprisoning hylian men trying to force entry into their lands? What was that about the secret death torture chambers right next to the Royal Family’s tomb and connected to the race of people who were, apparently, born to serve them?
Nothing? Oh okay… okay… okay….
The same can be said about this strange depiction of this hostile tribe, consistently described as wicked yet suddenly friendly once you prove you deserve their respect once you... defeat them, so you now have joined them? Ocarina of Time isn’t very consistent when it comes to characterizing them as their occupation (thieves) or as a proper culture, with a king and a strange system of rulership that seem to involve at least 5 people: Ganondorf, the Twinrova, Nabooru and the unnamed random woman who decides you’re now part of the gerudos because you slashed enough of them with your sword and hookshot, which, uhh ok.
They’re but a ragtag and negligible group when discussed next to gorons and zoras and hylians, but they also clearly have their own religion and at least a 400-hundred years old history (probably far longer than this) and hints of a written language of their own. I’m not sure the game itself knows what it wants them to be, beyond: intimidating and hot and cool, but also wicked and, because of Ganondorf and the way you barge in their forbidden fortress (heh) with the explicit intent to dismantle their king, in apparent need to be saved from themselves.
Speaking of rulership and the Spirit Temple, let’s have a quick tangent about Nabooru: I always found her characterization when meeting with Child Link pretty strange. I refuse to mention the promised reward, which feeds into everything orientalist mentioned above, but I always found her moral compass so extremely convoluted for someone coming from gerudo culture. Nabooru says that, despite being a cool thief herself, she resents Ganondorf for killing people as well as stealing from women and children. Stealing... from women. Nabooru. Why are you this pressed that he steals from women!!! This feels so out of place, that the only girl of that hostile culture that betrays her king and befriends you, is the one that upholds moral values that only a hylian could possibly hold.
Either way: the strange unquestioned contempt of the game for them as a culture, mixed with the occasional bouts of heart, friendliness and badassery, makes it hard not to consider their depiction as pretty biased in favor of the hylians finding them at once exotic, scary and exciting, and could hide a more complex reality you might only get one side of –especially when you know there were originally plans for Ganondorf’s character to be more gray and motivated than what the campy final version ended up being. To be blunt: even in the context of a game for children, and maybe because of that fact, it all reads like a reductionist and imperialist/colonialist reading of a more complex situation.
This might seem like A Lot coming from a game where the actual game writing can be this overall flimsy and simplistic due to the standards of the time (it’s rough, it's so rough). But I would have never dwelt on that thought about a little children’s game if not for the mainline entries that came soon after, because... ooo boy.
The sense you’re not getting the whole story was certainly not helped by the introduction of Wind Waker Ganondorf, and the chilling emptiness of Gerudo Desert in Twilight Princess.
AFTER THE TIMELINE SPLIT
(I’m skipping Majora’s Mask, not because I dislike them in the game or think they’re not worth talking about, but because it’s a parallel universe and they’re never even called gerudos and their reality seems extremely different from their sisters in Hyrule so I think it’s okay to call them tangential and not dive too deep in this particular depiction)
Here’s something I want to highlight about gerudos and how they were characterized before BotW came along: their absence. Not only their physical absence, the lack of any gerudo character that calls themselves gerudo, but their absence from the text itself.
It’s not that Wind Waker and Twilight Princess retroactively scratch them off existence: we can clearly see Nabooru’s stained glass art in WW as well as recognize them being mentioned in Ganondorf’s final boss soliloquy, and WELL there’s quite a lot to say about their imprint over the world of TP. They are there –or at least they... were there. But nobody ever talks about what happened.
In Wind Waker, there was the deluge. It’s assumed lots of people died then, and those who survived scattered across the Great Sea. Are they sealed under the waves? Have they drowned? Is Jolene, Linebeck’s ex-girlfriend in Phantom Hourglass, a distant relative of one of the rare survivors? It’s unclear, beyond the fact that Ganondorf is the only living gerudo we see in this entire branch of the Timeline split.
In Twilight Princess, the desert which bares their name is empty. The hylians never mention that it used to be the name of a tribe: they’re not even named when Ganondorf is introduced for the first time, reduced once again to a mere band of thieves. We learn his plans to steal the Triforce in OoT were foiled, and that he may have turned to war. Then he lost the war, and was executed in Arbiter’s Ground: a strange structure in the desert, a mixture between a temple, a prison and a coliseum. What looks like gerudo writing coexists with hylian symbols, which often look much fresher. This dungeon is the Shadow Temple of TP: a prison hosting the worst criminals the kingdom has ever known, now haunted and cursed. Besides the locations, the only character that vaguely look gerudo in the entire game besides Ganondorf is Telma, a character with pointed ears that never seems to identify as anything but a hylian. What happened? Who’s to say. Nobody ever says anything. Not even Ganondorf bothers to mention them the way he did in WW –and though the game’s story is quite focused on another exiled tribe seeking revenge and dominion over Hyrule as retribution, the parallel is never explicitly drawn. So who’s to say what happened there. Who’s to say.
And in A Link to the Past and the games forward? The only mention of other gerudo characters are Koume and Kotake, resurrecting their son in the Oracles games through their own sacrifice and failing to bring anything back but a monstrosity incapable of making conscious decisions. Granted, most games in that extremely weird Fallen Timeline predate OoT and therefore had yet to make gerudos up at all. Still: canonically, between the gap of OoT and ALLTP, whatever it may be, gerudos disappeared here as well.
I think there’s something subtle and a little heartbreaking about the fact that no matter what Ganondorf does, the gerudos always end up dying out. His yearning for Hyrule, its gentler wind and the Triforce blessing its lands always costs him the kingdom that he does have already.
Now, does he care? A lot of people would argue that he doesn’t, that he used them like pawns for his own ambition and saw them as servants more-so than sisters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Nintendo’s official opinion, but… One very powerful thing about most of Ganondorf’s incarnations (focusing on the human ones) is that he never seems to reject his cultural heritage. They could have gone for him wearing more kingly hylian stuff given the whole underlying theme of envy and pride surrounding his character, but never once does he try to look more hylian, beyond the ear situation that seems to be tied to the Triforce of Power? Either way: he is gerudo. Several of his outfits reference his mothers, as well as general gerudo patterning and jewelry. His heritage is something he proudly displays, even hundred of years in the future when there is no one left to remember what it means but him. I think it’s a very potent piece of characterization, an arc that crosses over multiple game and says something pretty intense about this character’s fate and his inherent destructiveness over the things he touches –starting with the Triforce, all the way up to his very own body and mind. His mental breakdown by the end of Wind Waker, when the king of Hyrule himself forces him to give up on the thing he sacrificed everything for, takes a new kind of weight with the whole picture taken into account.
(not to excuse genocide or general egomania-fueled madness and violence, but one thing doesn’t mean the other isn’t also relevant)
Regardless of whether this is a tragedy for Ganondorf as their uhh complete failure of a king, honestly, it is undeniably a tragedy for the gerudos themselves: a once-in-a-lifetime joyful event turned into a never-ending nightmare from which there seems to be no escape, their legacy now condemned to fade to black, leaving nothing behind but a demon boar forever laying ruin upon the world.
One may say I’m taking on the bleakest explication for the gerudos’ absence when there could be others. It’s true! Perhaps the gerudos are just chilling off-screen, completely fine, not interested in whatever is happening in the kingdom nearby and their disaster child having yet another temper tantrum about not being the Goddesses’ favorite boy. It’s possible! But regardless, what little elements we do possess as players doesn’t seem to support this, even if it remains possible –and regardless of actual gerudo lives, gerudo culture is definitively a goner in every single timeline.
Even if they did survive... Hyrule still won its unification war.
(I won’t mention Skyward Sword as they are not really a thing there, except for a butterfly that seems to suggest the Gerudo Province was a thing before the gerudo people –I don’t know what to do with this honestly– and the whole Groose situation, which, I’m not sure what to make of either beyond the fact that he may have gotten cursed by opposing Demise? And then went on to start the gerudo tribe, which ended up being an all-women group for some reason? Maybe? It’s not confirmed? I feel like it’s more of a fun tidbit than a central piece of the gerudo puzzle, so I’ll leave it there like I would a cool rock I brought back from a walk and that I don’t know where to put in my house)
Then, Breath of the Wild happened and changed things.
BREATH OF THE WILD
(Additional short note, but: while I won’t mention Four Swords Adventure, since it’s a weird one that almost nobody has played and severely messes with the Timeline, we kind of see the beginnings of what is about to happen in Breath of the Wild in this game –gerudos coming back without much explanation, then distancing themselves from Ganondorf to become friends with hylians because he was too hungry for power and now they are nice and have good reputation because they are our friendsss)
I was actually so happy to learn gerudos were making a comeback in a mainline Zelda game, and this got me more excited about Breath of the Wild than basically anything else the game involved. And getting to explore the Desert once again, meeting this new batch of impossibly tall buff girls, getting more about their language and their culture, Riju and the rest of the little girls are adorable, the grandmas are so cool, the sand seals??? sign me the fuck up??? And above it all, hanging around Gerudo Town at night and feeling as warm and cozy as little me liked to imagine how freeing it would feel, to stay there and watch the desert behind the safety of their walls in OoT… This was great. I loved it.
It was a huge compensation for the criticism I’m about to make, but did leave me with… questions regarding how their culture was going to be handled moving forward.
I’ll start with something small yet deeply revelatory, then work my way from there.
So... gerudos’ ears are pointy now.
This is pretty significant. Lore-wise, it’s been said that the elongated ears of hylians are there so they can better hear the voices of the gods. It’s considered a sign of holiness in-universe. There's a bunch of really thoughtful analysis on tumblr over that whole Ganondorf ear situation, which is a mess but also very interesting, but the short answer is: I think the absence of pointy ears was a clear design choice to originally signify them as Less Good. Even when Ganondorf gets pointier ears, they never get as long as hylians’. Worth noting: not every non-gerudo character has pointy ears: gorons, zoras and ritos (among others) do not possess this trait, and there are even some humans that have regular rounded ears in the series –though they always seem to be of lesser relevance, if not downright peasants in Twilight Princess. Pointy ears always tended to implied a strict hierarchy in the series: basically, the more pointy, the more Protagonist you become.
(also their eyes becoming green instead of the traditional yellow/golden, which looks more wicked and demonic --and cooler also tbh)
The pointy ears imply two things. From within the game, this could be interpreted in two ways: either that gerudos… converted, for a lack of a better term, and are now considered holy through their worship of the Golden Goddesses and/or Hylia, or that their mingling with hylians through tens of thousands of years had them acquiring this trait out of sheer genetic override (though they have kept their mostly-women birth rates, their big nose, darker skin –for the most part– and red hair). Probably a healthy mixture of both. Design-wise, it signifies something quite simple to the player: they are on hylians’ side now. They are good guys. We can trust them, even if they still have a little spice in them. They aligned themselves with us and against Ganon in all of its manifestations (even if he’s but an angry ghastly pig being parasitic to everything it touches in this iteration). They are on the side of Good, definitively, and will fight evil by our side.
On that note, I think it’s worth bringing out another major change from their initial iteration, which is their overt friendship with Hyrule as a whole, and with the Royal Family in particular. Despite not allowing any voe inside their walls (we’ll come back to this), their relationship with hylians is pretty neat. They have booming trade roads, travel and meet with the rest of the cultures, and are fierce enemies with the Yiga clan, who are renowned for being huge Calamity Ganon supporters. The tables certainly have turned. I want to bring out, in particular, Urbosa’s friendship with the queen and her role as the cool aunt taking care of Zelda and protecting her from evil (to be noted: I am not familiar with Age of Calamity so if I’m mischaracterizing her in any way, please let me know). The gerudo sense of sisterhood has been extended to the royals they used to fight against. I would go on and say the cultures peacefully coexist, but I think that what we’re looking at here is a case of vassal behavior, just like we used to have from zoras (in the non-Fallen Timelines) and gorons. This is a huge departure from gerudos being openly rejecting of Hylian culture in their initial iteration, and something that is worth returning to later.
Okay. Now it’s time to mention the weird obsession BotW gerudos have with romance. I didn’t take notice of my issues with their writing until I realized how prevalent of a theme that was. Now, the reason given for gerudos to refuse entry to males (of every race) has much more to do with preventing young gerudos to make mistakes than anything else, and is actively being put into question by the younger generations –which would make sense. But the amount of NPCs that either lament their lack of match, talk about their husbands (because they marry now apparently) or are invested in romance, and a very limited understanding of romance at that (heterosexual, closed, etc), makes for much more of the population that I initially expected. There’s no mention of what’s going on with their males, if there are new males being born and either exiled or abandoned, or if Ganondorf being technically still alive have have cut them off male heirs. Either way: no more kings, only girlbosses chiefs.
To have the gerudos so interconnected with Hyrule, not only through trade but through extremely coded romance where they have to make themselves palatable to a future male partner and enforce fidelity, was… a choice. The extremely brief and skippable mention of gerudos sometimes going to Castle Town in search for boyfriends in OoT became half of their personality traits in this game. We went from a race that was fiercely independent and mocking of the unworthy men who tried to mingle with them, to… this. Now I’m not saying some of the sidequests aren’t cute, or that I didn’t like the wedding, or that the grandma near the abandoned statue of Hylia (so she was worshipped at some point) clocking us and talking about her love life wasn’t one of my favorite gerudo conversations. I’m saying that the vibes have definitively changed. For the better? I’m not sure.
I once stumbled upon an article that said that Breath of the Wild gerudos were a huge improvement compared to their original introduction, because they were no longer presented as evil and hostile thieves groveling at the boot of a single man, but as a full culture allied with the protagonist and actively involved in the story, while still getting their Cool Girl Badass moment (again can’t find it anymore, I’ll link it if I stumble upon it again). I see where this comes from, but I honestly can’t help but consider it a reading that assumes something pretty major (though through no fault of their own, as the games tend to hammer this down as hard as they can), and that being hylians as the unquestioned anchor of Good.
Which, in spite of what the games want me to believe, I… feel uncomfortable taking at face value.
To me, regarding how gerudos are being incorporated in that goodie narrative, this is kind of a case of surface-level feminism trumping over colonialist/imperialist concerns. It becomes more important to perform the aesthetics of being cool and friendly and independent than scratching at any deeper problem that would risk making people uncomfortable. This is kind of Green Skin Ganon all over again: oh wait, isn’t it a little icky to have the evil bad guy being brown while faced by the most aryan-looking ass heroes of all time? Okay, then let’s take the brown guy and make his skin green so we don’t have to feel bad anymore that the conflict has racial undertones!! Solved!! There’s nothing questionable about changing a PoC's features to make it more monstrous and less human, right?
To me, it’s kind of the coward option: instead of accepting the messy reality those initial choices created (and their interesting nuances if taken at face value), let’s just… rewrite the PoC culture’s history to make it feel less uncomfortable for the white heroes. In many ways, it is an extension of what hylians have always done: scrubbing the weird and messy things about the past and shoving them deep down into the spooky well and far into the desert prison and away in alternate hellish dimensions, and then make up a very simple story where they get to feel good about themselves –except this time, it’s the fabric of the games, the literal reality, bending backward to make it happen. Which, in my opinion, makes it much worse than before. Now, there’s no conversation. The fabric of reality is changing their own history so that there is nothing to discuss anymore. Ganondorf was always evil incarnate. He never had any point. It was always 100% his own fault, his own hubris, his own fated wickedness. He was always demonic (and green, very important –having a flashback to people on twitter accusing artists restoring the TotK green skin to the original brown of wanting to make Ganondorf black, and like….. how do I put it gently…..)
And, above all else: gerudo are to distance themselves from his legacy so they can stay in the club of the Good and Just and Holy.
Because here’s the messy thing: as much as I love seeing the gerudos again in Breath of the Wild and as much I love for them to have survived the Era of Myth (??? somehow ???), this… kind of changes Ganondorf’s character arc. No longer do we have the story of a king who wanted more, either for his people, for himself or both, and led his culture to its destruction in his search for absolute Power, while remaining ironically incapable of maintaining what little he already had. This starts from him kneeling to the king of Hyrule in OoT and leads to the deluge, Arbiter’s Ground, his own mothers dying for the sake of his failed resurrection. Breath of the Wild changes this: now, the gerudo were apparently fine without him? They apparently did their own thing and became suddenly and inexplicably disconnected from his actions? I know it’s kind of implied they side with hylians at the end of OoT, but it’s honestly never really explored why they would cheer for the death of their king while never seeming to resent him before except for Nabooru –there are mentions of brainwashing for those who resist him (as well as “other groups in the desert”, tho they are never mentioned again), but it’s hardly a proper plot point for the majority of the tribe, aaaand they still die by Wind Waker in the Adult Timeline, in spite of their potential alliegance…
(again, this shift towards submitting to Hyrule actually started with Four Swords Adventure, getting crisper with each iteration)
There used to be this polite blur regarding Ganondorf’s relationship to them, how much he used them and how much he acted in their name (with arguments for both sides), and I think this messy and debatable question mark was one of the most compelling aspects of his character. Gerudos rejecting their relationship at a near-cosmic, reality-bending level, removes a huge layer of complexity to both parties… all for the benefit of making hylians come out cleaner out of this whole exchange, their moral grayness barely a whisper in the distance.
I’ll kind of go on the record and say that I suspect the addition of Demise to the canon to serve a similar purpose (at least in part): if Ganondorf becomes but the manifestation of a demonic curse, and is no longer an extremely messy character brimming with agency and drive, forcing the heavens to reckon with said agency in a way he was never meant to access, born from a complex set of circumstances from which we clearly get only a limited and biased perspective, then it becomes extremely clear that he’s a Bad in a way that isn’t worth exploring further. Even if he does have some points, he is a Bad. It’s what matters most. Not to say I even hate what this angle can bring to the table or that I want him to become Good (I don’t –I’ll talk more about why I dislike most takes on him being a helpless victim to the curse), but once again, who benefits from adding another Unquestionned Baddie to the equation to rest upon? Not him, and not the gerudos, that’s for sure.
So. Why did I, me, personally, like the gerudos in the first place?
Beyond the inherent coolness factor of their culture and the fascinating mysteries of what is merely suggested, I think… I think I loved gerudos because we were obvious outsiders. Because their rejection of Hylian culture was so sharp and extreme, their value system so different, and their writing, their religion, their relationship to power and hierarchy and worth wanted nothing to do with hylians. They didn’t need hylians, beyond them having potential resources to steal. In fact, the threat of hylians influencing their culture was such that the entry to the Fortress was forbidden to everyone (I don’t think men were ever singled out, by the way, even though they are mocked relentlessly). I think there was something inherently hopeful about this semi-matriarchy resisting the outside world, and especially its notions of what girls were meant to be –it was 1998, and every other girl character in OoT, besides Impa and Sheik that?? is another can of worms entirely, is either helpless or someone to save. For them to reject this narrow vision of femininity was, in my opinion, much more radical than what we got in BotW. Less nuanced, more problematic perhaps? But also much more powerful. Gerudo Valley is home, not to a town, but a Fortress.
Hylians were worth being resisted.
In Breath of the Wild, their refusal to let men enter their town is kind of boiled down to a fading tradition over-focused on romance, a meek little game of chase. Their entire goal seems to be finding a hylian to settle down with. Say what you will about the single man and the many girls (never explored and completely open-ended in its implications, btw), but at least it wasn’t… that. At least it opened the way for different ways for people to exist and imagine culture and civilization, outside of the heterosexual couple, the christian-infused patriarchy and its trickling down implications. What I want to say is: let my girls tell hylians they ain’t shit!! That they aren’t the end all be all of reality! This is what made gerudos so compelling in the first place! Where is that bite now? Where is that self-definition?
It’s gone, because hylians need to be Good. So we tee-hee at the creep running laps around the town, we disguise ourselves to breach their trust and infiltrate their town (though there is nuance to be had there, gender be complicated etc), we watch them pine after shitty dudes and take classes to become the perfect approachable woman and make love soups with ?? strange ingredients honestly, and we witness them get very friendly with the Royal Family they used to conspire against, dying to protect the princess against the manifestation of their ancient king reduced to a raving puddle of Bad Boar.
Hyrule, unified against him.
TEARS OF THE KINGDOM
For posterity’s sake: this post was made before the game was released. I’ll probably update my thoughts on a separate thing later on.
I don’t think gerudos allying with the hylians and burying their own legends about Ganondorf as deeply underground as they can until it blows up in their face is a bad setup at all. It’s actually pretty juicy, and there’s a ton of fascinating stuff that could happen here –even some involving gerudos taking a firm stand against him while still reconnecting with their past and the choices they made once. This is my hope with the title of the game: Tears of the Kingdoms. Let’s examine them all, account for the damage, and decide how we move forward from there with the full knowledge of where we come from.
What I am afraid of (and I already made posts about that) is the scenario where gerudos rallying against Ganondorf, which I expect will forcefully try to take back his place as their king, is used for cheap feminist points that completely fail to examine, well. Everything mentioned above. Where reality bends itself out of the way of the Goddesses, and hylians’ responsibility in any of this mess, so that everything bad is 100% Ganon’s fault and so he must be cast aside and torn away from the Cool Gerudo Girls and this is 100% justified and deserved because we are Independent Women Who Take No Shit from No Men (unless they are the king of Hyrule or any random hylian they wish to marry apparently).
I’ll say this here because it’s been burning my mouth every time I see discourse about Ganondorf and the gerudo: gerudos declared him as their king. To make a really bad comparison that I dislike: he didn’t run around to assemble girls and make a cult around himself, he was born with the cult already formed around him (and it’s not a cult, it’s just a different mode of governance –hylians also revere the Royal Family like gods, don’t they?). This heavily changes the dynamics at play. Not to remove any agency from him to do a little invasion about it, but chances are the ancestors to BotW’s gerudos fully expected him to behave in this way, at least to a degree –in OoT you see very plainly that they value physical prowess, feats of thievery, witchcraft and general violence. It’s more complicated than him being a Bad and making the poor helpless women go along with the plan uwu –even taking the brainwashing into account, AND Koume and Kotake counting as gerudos too, even if they might not be not fully innocent in shaping the culture and the man himself. If manipulation and forced servitude is the explanation given, I’ll be genuinely mad –because, once more, all the nuance and messiness would be flattened for the sake of making Ganondorf Bad and the gerudo Good (= on hylians’ side).
It bears to be said: I think feminism stances that require, not to criticize (which is fair), but to fully dehumanize and bestialize men of color to make any sense are uhhh bad, and it's worth questionning who they end up serving in the end.
The flip side of this would be to make Ganondorf a poor little meow meow that was secretly controlled by the evil Demise all along, and... I’ll be real. I really don’t think it solves our problem at all. It might even make it worse.
My problem with how gerudos have been handled thus far, being mostly connected to how they behave in relation to hylians Good, is that they’ve been systematically defanged not to threaten the status quo as much as they used to. I think it’s pretty clear why I’m not a fan of Ganondorf being a mere victim of cosmic circumstances; I have a post that goes more in depth about this, but to simplify: my man has legitimate grievances. To make him a mere puppet to Evil Incarnate would, to me, be just another attempt to erase the despotism of the Goddesses, the unjust hierarchy of the world, what hylians have historically done to the races they were in conflict with (looking at the Yiga for the most recent example…)
I’m not saying his fight is clean or even legitimate, that he isn't driven by his own sense of self-importance above anything else, or that he should win (he has no plan beyond domination and victory, that's not a future). But I think there’s something really important about having someone being willing to fully consume himself and everything around him for the simple fact that someone should resist the order of the world. Even if that makes him a heartless, cruel, and egomaniac demon-pig. Even if there’s no Hyrule left to rule. Even if his own people despise him, or are long gone and forgotten.
Is it a little heart-wrenching? Uhh yes to me yes most definitively. This is why Wind Waker Ganondorf hits so hard, and remains (I think) his favorite entry in the series so far. But… I still find this fate of eternal resistance more resonant and empowered, and far less grim, than if Hyrule’s lore absorbs his hatred and rage, gives it to another entity that would be Badder (= more opposed to hylians and the goddesses), and scrubs it off anything icky and uncomfortable, rendering it completely domesticated and non-threatening to hylian domination; rubbed of his skin color, of his complexity, of his own emotions, even made... kind of sexy now, in the same way his sisters have been made before him? I am very, very afraid of him being turned from furious and an unapologetic subject in his own legend to a "redeemed" (according to whom??) and palatable object in somebody else’s, that you now end up having to… save from himself.
Again, I want to trust that Tears of the Kingdom can walk that line and preserve everything sharp and contrasting and profound and thrilling about this fascinating setup. I don’t expect a philosophy course, this is a game for children –but it doesn’t mean Nintendo didn’t do an astounding job with similar setups in the past. Again, I’ll invoke the Wind Waker conflict, but Twilight Princess did a lot of great things as well (Zant’s speech, if you can get past the weird stretches and stumping and NNHYAAAs, is pretty fantastic) –and the subtle writing of Majora’s Mask is also proof enough this series can be complex without being impermeable.
So this is where my hope lies. Not really with BotW’s writing, which, I’m sorry to say, but I found to be below what the series has done in the past (I have no problem with the setup and how the story is explored, I think it was a great idea, but wasn’t ever sold on the actual writing the way I may have been with previous titles –it felt… very tropey to me overall, with a couple of highlights). But Nintendo has shown to know how to write compelling stories for children that know where to sprinkle its darkness and how to preserve its hope, and this is this side I’m relying on for this delicate storyline moving forward.
And now? Now… I suppose we wait and see.
(thank you for reading my impossibly long essay what the actual hell, at least I got it all out of my system, see you in part 2 for when TotK comes out I suppose aaa)
#gerudos#gerudo#ganondorf#tloz#totk#botw#breath of the wild#ocarina of time#twilight princess#wind waker#ww#tp#meta#hylian critical#zelda meta#thoughts#this took SO LONG#but at least it's DONE#let me know if I say stupid things!!#I probably do!!
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