#yeah I am devoting way too much time to a side character

[lets-try-some-writing]

Me to my Brain: The chapter isn't THAT long. I mean its only fourteen pages-

Brain: It's fourteen pages long and you aren't even halfway done.

Me: But there's a lot to cover, and I mean I can't just break it up into two chapters when I've got to get back to the main character.

Brain: *disappointment*

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

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The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”  

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ��you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”  

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn’t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.”  You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel,  never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.  

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair.  Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

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dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

[goingbuggy]

When you have time I would LOVE to hear your thoughts about post time skip buggy!!

Hi, anon! Sorry for the late-ish reply. I thought carefully about how I wanted to reply, but alas, here I am again, starting my metas in the strangest places. Anyways, here’s a seemingly unimportant question: Why is it funny that Buggy keeps failing upwards?

My answer also happens to be one of Pixar's 22 Rules of Storytelling:

"Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating."

You might be wondering why I chose this quote -- after all, Buggy manages to escape most conflicts by sheer coincidence. Take the canon-filler episode(s) “Little Buggy's Big Adventure,” for example; coincidence is the sole reason why he ends up on Gaimon’s island and eventually finds Alvida, one of his future allies. But for as much as Oda is guilty of using coincidences to benefit Buggy, he also creates coincidences to get Buggy into trouble. Sure, Buggy left on good terms with Gaimon/found Alvida, but only after:

Suffering a humiliating defeat at the hands of Luffy

Losing most of his body

Being chased by killer fish/eaten by a ginormous bird

Nearly getting shot in the head by Gaimon over a misunderstanding

Being chased AGAIN by a deadly crab???? LMAO???

Buggy’s “luck” functions like a pendulum -- for every good thing that happens to him, horrible things are guaranteed to follow. This core aspect of his character is what keeps the gag afloat. Buggy is never rewarded by the narrative without experiencing consequences. In order to earn moments of respite, he has to suffer.

I find it hilarious when people argue that Buggy doesn’t deserve to have good things happen to him. Because, yeah? Duh. Oda loves having his cake and eating it too. It’s not necessarily good to play both sides with the audience when it can cheapen emotional impact, but Oda will absolutely continue to make Buggy both a complete joke and a genuine character. He has fun that way. However, he’s not going to help Buggy without hurting him first.

But that's a very meta perspective. How does Buggy view his own beneficial coincidences? He’s now an emperor, and extremely close to the One Piece/Pirate King title that he so desperately wants. But why does he think he’s being rewarded, in-universe?

His facade.

His devoted followers, his influence, that billion-berry bounty, his emperor status -- all of it stems from his fake persona and its snowball effect. He’s well aware of this. In fact, I think it’s likely that he hates himself for being such a coward and hiding behind lies. But when he sees his true self as worthless, what else can he do except dig himself into a deeper hole?

Look at 1082. Buggy finally stands up for himself, claiming that wealth and power come from chasing after your dreams -- not grand schemes. Here, he’s talking to himself as much as he’s talking to Crocodile and Mihawk.

“This is wrong… This isn’t how I wanted my life to go…”

It’s a very depressing peek at the man behind the curtain. Buggy only ever wanted to follow his dreams, but he uses schemes to get ahead instead, because they're all he thinks he has. His lies are a crutch to depend on, so he doesn't have to face the truth: he doesn't believe in himself. 

To me, 1082 reads as a "Hail Mary" moment from a character at an emotional low. Buggy still doesn't believe in himself, but he is saying: Fuck it. If Shanks and I finally have an equal chance at becoming Pirate King, I at least have to try... Right? We can confirm his lack of self-confidence, because Buggy even admits he got here by “luck or chance or whatever."

He cannot entertain the possibility that he'd get this far any other way. Of course he doesn't see himself as Shanks' equal. It’s one of many reasons he didn’t want to go with Shanks at Loguetown; he assumed he’d be working “under” Shanks (even though Shanks only said “Come with me!"), because he truly believes he is lesser in terms of potential/greatness. ("You coward!" can also be interpreted as Buggy projecting his own insecurities onto Shanks.) Buggy's decision in 1082 is a desperate leap of faith. "Go for broke," "shoot for the moon," etc.

Post-Timeskip Buggy may appear more dangerous than ever before, but in reality, he’s just a small fish in a big pond. The farther he crawls his way up the ladder of success, the worse he feels, because the life he has built is not how he wanted to live at all. Based on everything we've known about Pre-Timeskip Buggy, we should expect him to be happier than ever. He has influence. Power. His monetary value in the eyes of the World Government has shot up exponentially. But look at the poor guy. He's miserable.

If you've ever seen Better Call Saul, I think this scene from S4E9 is very similar to how I feel about Buggy:

JIMMY: There you go! Kick a man when he’s down! KIM: Jimmy, you are always down.

Buggy is a character who is always down, even when you think he might be up. Until he stops maintaining that false image, he will always be punished by the narrative pendulum he's trapped himself in.

Unfortunately, change is hard, especially with the stakes he’s currently facing. If Buggy actually has to fight Blackbeard, Luffy, or Shanks... he can’t. Not alone. He needs people to believe the facade, because that's what got him here in the first place. He may look invincible, but he is quite possibly the most vulnerable character right now.

Crocodile and Mihawk would sell him to Satan for one corn chip (especially after that stunt he pulled in 1082). We haven't seen him improve his physical abilities (unless Oda pulls some off-screen bullshit). As an emperor, he has more people gunning for his head than ever before. Buggy’s last line of defense is his long-running gag -- if Oda decides to subvert our expectations, he’s a dead man walking.

And who would he have to blame but himself? He built his image on smoke and mirrors. Eventually, he's going to have to pay the price.

If Pre-Timeskip Buggy is a man defined by coincidence, then Post-Timeskip Buggy is defined by consequence.

[atlafan]

Jordan, ik you probably don’t want to have a whole conversation about this but I recently watched Drew Gooden’s video on the live action atla series (it just affirmed that I definitely don’t want to watch it lol) but it did inspire me to do a rewatch of the original and ughhhhhh it’s so incredible😭😭 all the little characterization details are SO rewarding and so good. Zuko’s small acts of kindness, even early on in book 1, just show that he’s always been Ursa’s son and help set up his arc for the rest of the show. Going after the captured Iroh instead of tracking the Gaang in Winter Solstice. Saving his crew in The Storm. It just shows you that at his core he believes in doing the right thing, and that’s a huge part of why his overall arc pays off so well. It’s the same with all of them—seeing Sokka put on his war paint and his battle regalia (in ep 2 or 3 I think) to confront Zuko in the village…it shows you that he takes such pride in the responsibility of being a leader and a warrior, especially in his dad’s absence. Yet when he gets to Kyoshi, we see the humbled side of him, and that he’s devoted to learning and respectful of the masters in their craft (whether it’s the Kyoshi warriors or Piandao or even the mechanist) and wants to learn what they have to teach him. Even Jet, who is always a very complicated character for me, is so compelling and so real. He’s suffered horribly and unfortunately has let that radicalize him. Tbh it reminds me of when anti war groups in the 60s would bomb places and things like that…the mission is “peace” but you’ve let your mission turn you into a violent radical who doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong anymore. I KNOW I don’t have to tell you lol but all the little details of this show, from design to writing to performances, are just incredibleeee and I’m so happy it exists.

GISICKAKAAK what a fun message to wake up to!

Yes I am simply pretending the new series doesn’t exist because I know it’ll just piss me off if I watch it. And I know myself well enough to know I am just not mature enough to separate the original from the new, so yeah I won’t be watching and I doubt I ever will. The one thing I am mature about is that I don’t “hate watch” things anymore lmao

I think this is why zuko is like my favorite character. I feel like he was the first character I was ever like “no, that’s actually my son” when I got older. He is so fucking complicated and so not at all what you think he’s going to be. He’s not just the antagonist, he’s Aang’s foil. They parallel each other in so many different ways. There’s a scene in book 3 where Aang literally says, “I need my honor back”, and it cross fades from one side of his face to the other side of zuko’s!!

All of the characters have incredible arcs. They all learn something about themselves, and they actually use that to grow and get better. Remember, these are literally children who were thrusted into adulthood, forced to grow up way too early. Katara is a nagging mother, but she also remembers how to be a kid and have fun and laugh. Sokka is a sexier idiot, but what teenage boy isn’t? He unlearns so much behavior, and even though he still feels like he’s the leader of the group, and in so many ways he is, he learns that it’s okay to let someone else take the lead, that he doesn’t always have to be right or in charge. Toph learns that she’s loveable for who she is, blindness and shoeless and a badass.

Aang and Zuko obviously have the most difficult arcs. Aang has to come to terms with the fact that he ran away, and a mass genocide of his people ensued. But if he hadn’t left, he would have died along with the rest of them. Like it or not, it was fate that he froze himself. And most avatars get told who they are at 16 and are given all the time in the world to learn the other elements. Aang was 12…and then had to learn the other elements in less than a year. I would argue that he didn’t necessarily master all the elements in that year. I think he learned enough about each to get by, and I’d like to think he took some time afterwards to really master them. He still relied on his air bending a lot. Whereas if we look at Korra, she did a lot of fire bending even though water was her natural element.

And my baby zuko…I could go on for days about him. My tortured emo son. He overcame so much. He cried, he learned to laugh again, he learned how to be young again. He hated being in the slums of ba sing se, but he also went on dates and got closer with his uncle like he never had been. He was such a sweet little boy. The storm always makes me cry. Zuko alone always makes me cry.

I could go on! I always wanna talk about avatar so never be afraid to come to my inbox about it!

[rawliverandgoronspice]

TLOZ translations always seem to be a bit shitty. I still see people talk about the weird translation of the Demise monologue at the end of SkSw. I think someone said that Demise was more general with his statement, as in there will always be forces from the demon tribe fighting against the light or smth? Not specifically "us three will always fight". (I've read it a few times, but hard to remember, sorry.) (On the topic of SkSw, I kinda dislike how much it impacted theories within TLOZ, some theories are really cool, don't get me wrong. But now, even games that existed for years before suddenly are being pushed to fit with the lore presented in that game. Ganondorf being the best example: He no longer is his own character who did bad things because of his own will and actions, it's now "He did it all because an evil curse made him do it. He had no choice, he was born as a vessel for the demonic lord." The implications that "the curse of Demise" also would mainly go for the already vilified race of the Gerudo, and make their one male an evil warlord is already kinda... yeah... no. (Not to mention that there are other demon lords throughout the franchise that have nothing to do with Ganon.)

Ohh speaking of this I recently saw this post that did a good translation of that very moment, and pretty much confirms what you are mentioning anon; that it's basically a promise of that cycle coming back moreso than Demise himself coming back (especially since his actual and definitive death is a big deal in that game).

But yeah, I agree it has taken a huge space in the way the series is thought about. I pretty much completely missed that hard turn, as I couldn't play Skyward Sword when it released and wasn't super into Zelda afterward anymore (I had gotten too edgy.... 2011 was the year where I got obsessed with every horror videogame in existence basically except for Resident Evil for some reason I could never get into that series ANYWAY WAY off topic........), so coming back a few years later had me very ???? puzzled about how the theories had reconstructed themselves around Hylia and Demise and endless cycles (it's not that it wasn't a thing before, but I wouldn't say it was as much a Series Trademark as it is now).

But yeah. Ganondorf having his own motivations makes him immediately stronger as an antagonist, especially since his deal is quite complicated all things considered.

I am having a thought about how a lot of Zelda villains' motivation is a sort of rebellion against nature. I have scratched enough digital paper about Ganondorf's situation, but like... Minish Cap Vaati is also very much motivated by his refusal to remain small and whimsical and seize power instead of staying in his lane (and then he gets horny in Four Sword so, maybe let's not go there), Zant is.... Zant, Hilda in A Link Between World has been cosmically punished for trying to reject the Goddesses and create a world on its own terms --like SERIOUSLY this is HORRIFYING I feel like we don't talk enough about how utterly nightmarish of a reality that paints for Hyrule as a whole-- Girahim is devoted but fights for the side more or less destined to lose... It's interesting how Hyrule is hostile to change and anything that threatens the statut quo.

(then you have the occasional Majora and Yuga, whomst I dooon't think really fit the above category --to their full credit! and then you have Bellum, who is..... a blob...... And I don't remember enough from either the Oracles game or about Malladus to put them in either category, I need to replay those games)

Hyrule really has this frightening quality to it when you stare at it for too long: that your two only options are to either graciously submit to your assigned cosmic role, or fight it and become darkness incarnate in some way. A Link Between World showed, quite starkly, that trying to escape that binary choice is *not an option*.

[couchie]

Fucked up ship bingo harrykim and jh discoelysium

-@mansplainmanipulatemalewife

MY BELOVED MUTUAL WHO IS WITH ME THROUGH MY FLOPS <333

ok so kimharry

i am going to expand on everything i marked and you dont get a say in it

-> undeniably t4t

i dont care much for t!kim tbqh, it's become too mainstream for me. my approach for it is "eh, why not?"

now harry on the other hand...

oh i am FERAL for t!harry you have NO IDEA. TRANS MAN HARRY? AUGHHHHH. TRANSFEM HARRY? OUGHHHHHHH. NB HARRY? WAUGHHHHH. IM HERE FOR IT. it's so fuckin good n i eat it up every single time. his canon issues with his masculinity gives perfect content to toy with his gender in every which way and it is divine

and so yeah that is to say. t4t kimharry is a fuck yeah

-> terrible for each other (affectionate)

they clash. thats it thats the post. opposites attract typa stuff. thats why i marked the "(affectionate)" one

-> playing with them like dolls (taking them on dates and making them be all cute)

DOMESTIC KIMHARRY FUCKS. FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. we see them under a time crunch interacting with the mystery of a hanged man looming over their head and their districts in a pissing contest and with harry freshly amnesiac. i want to see the fall out. i want to see the progress. i want to see them when they're not focused on other plot things and we can get to the character development part. i want to see how they deal with themselves and each other on a normal day

-> thinking about them Always and Forever

yeag

-> LET THEM HAVE A HAPPY ENDING‼️‼️

BRO THE BAD ENDINGS FOR DE... MY HEART CANT TAKE THAT SHIT. let them be nontoxic partners. let them have good stuff in life. let them have each other. PLEASE.

-> the DEVOTION oh my GOD

there was a whole post analyzing how theyre devoted to each other and why theyve latched onto each other dont make me rewrite it

harryjean

WE GOT A BINGOOOO WOOOOO🎉🎉

ok here we go

-> i want them 2 make out with blood in their mouths like vampire bats

i dont think i need to explain, it is quite concise. do i think this will solve anything between them? no. should they do it regardless? absolutely yes

-> divorced <3

in my humble opinion they are more divorced than harry and dora are. yall r underestimating the power of toxic masculine work friendship in which they hang onto each other to not kill themselves and then one of them just forgets about it. maybe the divorce is one sided but they are. they rly are.

-> they will die together in a heart shaped pool of blood

(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

-> terrible for each other (derogatory)

oh ueah absolutely. they constantly fought and argued and anything and everything. they made the other's anger levels skyrocket, on purpose, just to get a rise out of em. but they still needed each other. it's not like either could afford a therapist, much less working in a place that was actually not-actively-killing-them-slash-making-them-suicidal. they were all they had

-> "you should see the other guy" *points at a dead body*

that finna b jean fr

-> playing with them like dolls (Psychological Torture)

they are The guys for angst <333

-> thinking about them Always and Forever

yeagh

-> sicko 2 sicko communication

absolutely

-> they should kill each other

self explanatory <3

tiny little disclaimer i didnt play enough to meet jean and this is based off of what i gathered about him from other peoples' jeanposting so if it's ooc. oops. it's basically the version of him i crafted in my head

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Gilgamesh for ask meme!

Hi!!! Thank you for messaging me ☺ I really appreciate it! It's been a long time since I did askmeme on gilgablog so thank you for requesting him (i keep most fate thoughts private)! Sorry I will probably write a whole massive paragraph about him XD

My Gilgamesh opinions are very subjective here so they may not all be accurate, which is why I enjoy this ask a lot ^^

Sexuality Headcanon: I headcanon him as bi/pan, like yeah there's no denying he is also attracted to women, but his devotional relationship with Enkidu and kinky pleasure yuetsu time with Kirei is every bit as canon in my opinion!!!

Even his creepy obsession with Saber really hints to me personally that Gilgamesh may not discern his initial sense of attraction primarily by gender- I believe he may be attracted to people based off intangible traits that link to his personal sense of values as well; which cannot be as simply measured as gender.

So in my opinion GILGAMESH IS RATED E FOR EVERYONE!

Gender Headcanon: Though he is masc, man he/him I also feel as if Gilgamesh's gender is also just 'GILGAMESH'. Sometimes I wonder if Gilgamesh would see himself as beyond the convention of gender.

Also I heard from someone that gender can be very diverse in Ancient Mesopotamia so it would be really cool to see where Gilgamesh would slot his gender identity there... also can his pronouns be king of heroes/ king as well! I feel like he really defines himself by his role more than gender per se, and in one fate hanafuda game he says gender doesn't matter ☺👍

An OTP: ohh I love Gilgamesh ships so much 😊😊 Gilkidu is just so amazing in many ways I cannot even describe, Kotogil is incredible in their twisted dynamic .. and GilHaku is just so beautiful! And I love Gilgamesh x Merlin for the shenanigans... to be honest most Gilgamesh ships are my otp. I even really like Gilgamesh x reader/ oc fics and Ritsuka/ Guda ones depending on what the ocs are like! Oh I also like Gilgamesh x Cu as they can clash head on and go wild, as well as Gilgamesh x Ozymandias!

And a mutual introduced me to Achilles x Gilgamesh. I think it is a beautiful pairing as they have so much grief, love, power and arrogance in common.

A NOTP: I'm sorry Gilgamesh x Saber fans. I respect those who ship it but Gilgamesh is such a creep to Saber in my opinion, I like it when she doms him to smithereens and stomps on his pride though ☺🥳🥳🥳

BROTP: This is a hard one as I feel like his otps can be good otps, but seeing him hang out with Iskandar is always hilarious. Love how he actually listens to Taiga in the spin off games as well, so they could maybe enjoy a few drinks together. And Gilgamesh/Solomon/Merlin makes for great chaos.

Gilgamesh/Siduri/Enkidu is a powerful alliance and err what else... I feel like as long as they can entertain one another then Gilgamesh has the potential for many BROTPS.

Random Headcanon: He has golden nipple tassels that he unleashes whenever he has an urge to go full sexy, also I feel like though yes he does love pleasure and decadent desires the way he so tightly constrains and punishes himself sometimes makes me wonder if some of his hedonism is also used as a way to appear as an overwhelming figure to others.

I feel like Gilgamesh is definitely tyrannical and extremely powerful and charismatic... yet also has a side to him that is insecure as hell, his larger than life and genuine powerful and wise sides overcompensating for a side of him that is plagued with all sorts of self loathing and grief.

General opinion: I love this asshole!!!!!!!! Endless joy can be created from researching his character and reading, watching his materials, he is entertaining in such a wide variety of ways, and every side of him is a marvel to witness (though i wanna punch him sometimes too cuz holy crap is he horrendous at times).

He's a very complex and nuanced character that can be interpreted in a wide variety of ways so I am really irritated by how some people try to gatekeep Gilgamesh's character and throw him into a box, when Gilgamesh is such a versatile character! I hope that there will continue to be a space where people can enjoy Gilgamesh in as many different ways as possible, without there having to be some sort of 'fandom consensus' on which Gilgamesh opinions are most valid.

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Devotion to Tatsumi Kazehaya - 4

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, three years ago

Characters: Tatsumi, Kaname

Proofreading: Remi (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace

Tatsumi: Ah... You've pinned me. I'm rarely so close in contact with another person like this, so I'm a little nervous. Haha...

Time: (At the same time, in Reimei Academy's Labor Camp.)

Tatsumi: There, there. All will be well.

Kaname: .....

Tatsumi: Everyone else has already left.

I've locked the door and erected a barricade just to be safe. Of course, I've closed the windows as well.

Please treat this impenetrable room as if it were a confessional. No matter what is said, the only ones who will be listening are myself and God.

Ease your mind, and lay bare that which ails you.

Kaname: .....

Tatsumi: There's no need to be afraid. See? You and I are the only ones in this room.

Now then. Until you speak, I shan't move. No matter how many days, no matter how many weeks it may take, I will remain here at your side and keep calling for you.

Kaname: For what...? What are you even...?

Tatsumi: Ah, so you can speak. How wonderful. ♪

Nonetheless... Pardon my lateness in introducing myself, but I am Tatsumi Kazehaya.

"The wind blows quickly from the Southeast," is how you can remember the reading for Kazehaya. Ah, and as for Tatsumi itself, it's read using the characters for the Serpent and the Dragon from the Chinese Zodiac. They're both on the Southeastern corner of the calendar, which is how you can remember them as well.

Haha. Serpent, though, alike to that which tempted Eve... A rather poor omen, wouldn't you say?

Kaname: Tatsumi Kazehaya—

Tatsumi: Yes, that's me. Please do call me however you like, though, whether it be Kazehaya-senpai or Tatsumi-kun. Recently, I've even been called "Reverend" and the like on TV.

It seems religious terms are becoming quite popular lately, hahaha... We don't call them Reverend in our doctrines, but going with what the public wants is best.

Kaname: Why are you... here, of all places...?

Tatsumi: I could ask you the very same. If I recall correctly, HiMERU-san, you're a Special Student as well, so you should have been granted a luxurious private room in the new dormitories.

Well, I'm very much the same. I find having a large dorm all to myself to be a little too much, so I've recently transformed it into a training room everyone can use.

All are welcome, without paying a single yen, to come practice and socialize as they please. However, with so many coming and going, it's become much more tumultuous than before... As a result, my former dorm has gained quite the poor reputation among the other residents.

Kaname: Yeah, I remember hearing about something like that. A lot of the other Special Students have ended up returning home to simply commute to school instead so they don’t have to live with such discomfort.

Tatsumi: Is that so...? Mm, and I tried to make a space that was as comfortable as possible for all too...

The other Special Students and I have never seen eye to eye. However, little by little, it seems as if there are those who are beginning to understand the things I do and why I do them.

The road may be longer still and fraught with countless trials, yet...

Tatsumi: Haha, it's rather exciting.

Kaname: .....

Tatsumi: Ah, but this isn't about me... HiMERU-san, what are you truly doing here?

If you stay here there may be others who won't have a sleeping space themselves... Ah, not that I mean to scold you any, I only wish to know.

Kaname: ... How are you? If you transformed your room in that way, then you don’t have a place to sleep yourself, do you?

Tatsumi: Are you worried about me?

I can generally fall asleep anywhere so long as I have a sleeping bag, but most recently I've been staying overnight in the catacombs as my activities do go on quite late.

It's as if I'm camping every day, so it's rather fun. I've even been barbequing with everyone.

Kaname: I'm not an idiot, but I don't understand a word you're saying. It doesn't sound like we're attending the same school whatsoever.

Tatsumi: Haha. Well, it's hard for Special Students to see those who are not.

That is why I cannot allow myself to become the same, and therefore I strive to mingle with as many kinds of people as I can.

Kaname: ... Do you hate that you're a Special Student?

Tatsumi: I cannot say I hate it, necessarily. I only feel that the inequality on which Reimei Academy bases its system tramples those who are weak beneath its feet without sparing a single thought, and thus needs to be changed.

My being here, as well as the actions I take, are merely a small protest to that system.

Kaname: If you hate being a Special Student so, soooo much, then—

Tatsumi: ...?!

Ah... You've pinned me. I'm rarely so close in contact with another person like this, so I'm a little nervous. Haha...

Kaname: Tatsumi Kazehaya, Tatsumi Kazehaya, Tatsumi Kazehaya—

Tatsumi: Yes, I am he. I'm happy you've remembered my name.

Kaname: An outstanding idol even among the Special Students at Reimei Academy, one who stands above all others. This era's darling, a child prodigy, a man walking on the shining, glittering path of glory.

Tatsumi: I have been spoken of in that way, yes.

Kaname: Even though I deserve that title, that fame, you...

Tatsumi: If I'm not mistaken, you do have a similar reputation to me though, HiMERU-san...

Kaname: Give it to me... Give it to me... Please, give it to me! Give me your position!

Tatsumi: ...?

Kaname: ... There's no point in living if I'm not a Special Student!

✦✦✦✦✦

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[blues-valentine]

Agree with all ur shadow and bone thoughts, im honestly so disappointed.. they just forgot to add the sankta alina followers in the show which was always so interesting and important to me, like wth was the mal reveal it was terrible, like wheres the angst? Wheres alinas hunger for power that starts to scare her? Like it all felt so hollow.

Yeah, honestly the Sankta Alina plot was always interesting to me and I think it not only added so many layers to Alina’s character but it also provided a change of dynamic instead of the same Alina’s powers vs Darkling situation that was frankly a bit repetitive. The Apparant if done right could’ve been an great antagonist and they literally introduced him on Season 1 and planted the seeds for this plot only to just blatantly ignore it because they desperately wanted the spin off which I get but I still believe is a disregard to Alina Starkov and a disrespect to Jessie and everyone from the S&B cast.

This religious symbol that Alina represents beyond the Sun Summoner plus her big following was another aspect to Alina’s conflict that gave her layers they just didn’t want to explore. It was truly disappointing and as you just mentioned, hollow. Tolya and Tamar had a really particular devotion and loyalty to Alina, similar to Inej’s because of what she represents in their belief and this was not added on. The twins were basically more involved for Nikolai and the crows’s plot than what they were supposed to mean for Alina’s story line, which was allowing her to understand that side of her and give us a different perspective of her role not just as a savior or queen, but as a whole. Also, the whole Apparat plot gave us really cool moments with all the characters that we’ll probably never going to get such as them in the church ruins. Mal training the Grisha for the upcoming war and all of those cool scenes. It would’ve made sense why they would want Mal as leader of the guards too because he basically takes that role throughout the books. Like, all of these issues is what convinced Alina that she needed to become a queen. Something she did not want. Mal being a great military strategist was never mentioned or brought into the show. Alina didn’t want to be a queen, she wasn’t compelled by the “glamorous” vibe of it all and that’s precisely what they made her up to be.

The thing about Alina’s power is that she’s slowly losing it to the point it scares her and everyone around her. Mal was starting to be afraid too of her hurting herself. It’s what pull him on high alert throughout the whole thing. It’s why Darkling’s visitations become more present, because she’s battling into letting herself be consumed by power. The mental tool it took taking the second amplifier was not explored as it should have been because that changed Alina in a lot of ways. The moment I got into episode 4 and saw that they were already doing the R&R plot I was like, uhm, anyways. It was just so anticlimactic and it sadly was because there was not build up to it.

Like, I am glad I have the books but yeah, it would’ve been great to watch it display on the show correctly because I believe Jessie really stepped up this season in terms of delivery. But I believe maybe this is why they changed that Season 2 ending, like they are clearly going for Alina being corrupted by power — which might simulate Siege and Storm but there was not need to change it this much and it was clear that their priority wasn’t on Alina which is why many other characters ended up having more screen time than the female heroine of color they’ve spent season 1 patting themselves on the back for and the one female they’ve build the whole grishaverse upon – and it’s truly sad.

[charlie-and-brown]

When I read the first few chapters of Naruto, it occurred to me. If Sakura is a not female character of Naruto, would she successfully land Sasuke in that manga?

Well, it depends on the person she pursues.

There is one successful shoujo manga called Mirmo de Pon!, giving some vibes of the whole dynamic.

As you can see, it’s an anime about the bond building of human and muglox (like fairies with no winds). The love story of Kaede Minami and Setsu Yuuki is the start of everything.

The anime takes four seasons for Setsu Yuuki to fall in love with Kaede. Of course, most of the stories are about Kaede and her fairy, Mirmo, bonding and saving the world. Yeah, that’s shoujo manga. The canon Manga is not that ambitious but I like anime better. Manga is too shoujo.

The Anime tries to make the love between them realistic. Setsu wants to be a novelist and he reads everyday to broaden his views. He also studies well and is good at sports.(Sound like someone we know in Naruto, right?)

Kaede is not smart. She is not good at schools and she is shy, liking Setsu for a year without saying a word to him. Although she is nice to his classmates, that’s it. No other good qualities could be found.

In the first episode, her rival, Azumi Hidaka, is beautiful, bold and brave. She likes Setsu in the first sight and starts to pursue him boldly.

Kaede feels small but then Mirumo comes to her world. The fairy inspires her to stop being lazy and fantasizing her loved one. She needs to do things on her own or it’s meaningless.

Then, she starts to change. She starts to make moves, understand Setsu’s dream and support him in her ways, which include her trying to read the books he likes. During the process, she does anger him for some times, but as a future novelist, this boy has seen her true nature and starts to fall for her.

In the final season, Kaede experiences heartbreak from loving Setsu, but she realizes that she just wants him to be happy. If he is happy, then everything is fine. Heartbreak is a part of loving him and she doesn’t want to let the memories with him to go.

That’s how you writes Shoujo anime. (Hn…)

I love this series very much. It makes it realistic. If women don’t have big dreams and just want to be with her men, that’s okay. They could support them to pursue their dreams with full hearts and try to understand them in their ways. They could care for them whenever they need love and passions.

For Sakura, I think she is more like Azumi Hidaka. She just likes Setsu for some qualities he has and igores bad sides. If she can have him, she doesn’t care whether he is happy or not at that moment. She focuses on herself more and she really is more book-smart than Kaede. She is a model from times to times.

It’s two kinds of love and that’s totally fine. I do root for Kaede but if Azumi wins, I am fine. She is an elite in the real world and there is some men who do like that kind of dynamic. Unfortunately, Setsu isn’t and he wants someone who cares for him and others, who puts everyone before herself and devote to others’ happiness like it’s her own.

Does it sound familiar? If I am not wrong, I think Kishmoto is planning something. The dynamic in Mirumo de Pon! Is common in shoujo manga from 1990 to 2010.

[mike-haters-dni]

‘SENT TO THE GULAG’ IS KILLING ME

okay yes hop has probably atoned for his sins by now and his monologue at rock bottom was really good but it still pisses me off sometimes idkk. im just waiting for the payoff of seeing him actually DO better this time😭

and exactly! the angst in s2 is like- messy- but that’s good television! it gave us a top 5 millie preformance how can i even be mad

men in stranger things are weird sometimes cuz you have to overlook their CRIMES, (i’ll be like “omg jancy!” then i REMEMBER…) it’s weird when a character is randomly at their worst for a scene or a season just to meet the story’s requirements

jopper can scream at each other all sam and diane for nostalgia in s3 but when you look at it in a larger context it’s kinda dicey. like how weird of hop to doubt her when he already knows to trust her instincts.

and also it’s just like- nobody drags him enough for me! he’s so loved- male characters can do ANYTHING kinda- so i have to get him. out of principle. and i see that hopper (and like david harbour) is too important to kill off in the show and that him and el’s relationship isn’t all lows, not even in s2. i think i’m just bitter that 1. st tiktok treats el like she was SO unreasonable in that scene>:( (i need to stop going there it makes me want to rant on tumblr) and 2. how much time was devoted to bringing him back last season like my cali boys were so neglected. :( (after 2 failed prison escape attempts i was like (why i am still looking at this insanely bruised man) so-

but yeah i need to stop typing now cause i have a million thoughts in my head about hopper and the way that he is. and the way the show treats him. (how funny is it that even the viewers can have a complicated relationship with him. maybe i’m not giving the writers enough credit in that regard)

: )

-No like, I agree 100%. We forgive but we never forget

-I have a hard time even being really mad at Jonathan for the Incident cuz like, that was such a weird ooc moment that was clearly just so the plot would happen. Like he got possessed by the spirit of the writers to do that shit. And like I can't even be mad at the writers either because like, the plot they were servicing is really fucking good? I might be the only person in the world who thinks this but I think this show is phenomenally written esp from a plot structure perspective. Near perfectly even. Like this show single-handedly instilled a sense of how to do super satisfying setup and payoff, and how to have every scene push multiple things forward, and how everything seen on screen needs to be relevant to as much as possible. Its so tightly written that its like...yeah Jonathan had to do that shit. It allowed like 3 perfectly intersecting plotlines to play out. There was no other option. And like there probably was and maybe I'm coping or whatever but like...idk it's perfect to me :) But still we forgive but we never forget. And we only forgive after they display a marked change in behavior. And we still never forget <3 (side note: remember when El dumped him and Mike ((and Lucas)) went full andrew tate for a second? That's the one thing he's ((they've)) actually ever done wrong lmaooo ((tbf they were also 13 so like)))

-Who tf is saying she was being unreasonable??? child???? traumatized??? isolated in a tiny cabin for a year?????? With Hopper?????? A cop????????? HellO?????????? Bro ppl HATE her bro this needs to stop

-I think the biggest problem with the Russia plotline is just that it's not fun? Watching Hopper get tortured in a labor camp is not fun? I came here for 80s vibes, friendship and supernatural shit and it only delivers that whenever Joyce and Murray are onscreen (who are really fantastic together tho) and once the monster finally shows up way too late into the proceedings. There should have been inklings of monster throughout to add some intrigue and let us know that this was all going to have a point that tied into the plot of Stranger Things the 80s Monster Show. But alas.

[burnersideblogjustincase-ies]

MY TIME HAS COME. IVE BEEN HERE TOO LONG AND SEEN TOO MUCH. Most of the hate I see Jess and Jason get publicly is for bad writing choices, but. Uh. THINGS RUN MUCH DEEPER THAN THAT! Here's a big compilation, of both serious and less serious things, that people have gripes with Jess and Jason for.

Disclaimer: A lot of this stuff is sourced from twitter, which I do not use. I am a MCD fan and have been here since MCD Season 1, I also am not a Mystreet/modern content fan. There could be stuff/context I'm missing for some things. I'm trying to keep this post to stuff I can provide links/sources for, in order to prevent that.

Tw for discussions of homophobia, racism, abusive workplace, uncomfortable IRL age-gaps, fatphobia, and depictions of abuse and incest. This post is long, be warned.

Homophobia:

Jessica is a fetishist of gay/mlm relationships. I feel this is pretty visible through her actions as a whole, but in case you don't believe me, here's her tweeting about being a Septiplier fan.

(Ship between Jacksepticeye and Markiplier. Yes. She really tweeted this. https://twitter.com/_Aphmau_/status/748004225305677828)

And this.

And the video she did where she publicly supported the "ship" of her IRL employees/coworkers (Mithzan and YourPalRoss), which she then publicly reblogged a clip of to her tumblr here: https://www.tumblr.com/aphmau/142601660059/mithross-ahaha-thank-you-so-much-for-this

AND back when they did fanfic readings/reenactments on the channel, one of these videos was devoted to Septiplier.

(This video has since been privated, but you can see someone's... uh.... ""reaction video"" to it? Here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jodpDmeqES0)

Yeah.

This fetishization does leak into the content Jessica creates. Jason himself has confirmed that the way Jess wrote Laurance and Garroth was intentionally written as queerbait.

The person he was replying to is no longer visible, but the tweets are still up here: (https://twitter.com/jasonbravura/status/802295131218984960)

Racism:

Yeah so remember how Jason said that they'd never have someone on the team make the skintones of characters to be lighter. Remember how he said that in those tweets above. Yeah well they did that they absolutely did that. They do it in the official poster merch, in the official music videos, thumbnails, and in the skins/ingame footage as well.

(Lots of the in-game whitewashing seems to be a side-effect of the shaders they are using, as they overexpose the footage and make everything lighter as a result. The difference in skintones is glaringly obvious, and definitely would've been tackled by the team by now if they cared about whitewashing as an issue.)

It took until Season 3 of MCD to have a single black character purposefully placed into the show. He had potential to be more than a side character, but the show was cancelled soon after his introduction. As far as I'm aware, Teony is still the only black character in all of Mystreet/Phoenix Drop High. She is a side character who is not included in the minigames or other modern content. Unless I'm misremembering, she doesn't appear in Mystreet in anything beyond Season 2.

Let's talk about Nana Ashida now. Or as she was known as up until late parts of Mystreet, "Kawaii-Chan." Good news! Jessica and crew realized that having an anime-obsessed neko-girl who works at a maid cafe and loves "shipping" and all things "Kawaii" was offensive, and changed her name as a result. Bad news! They confirmed this character to have Japanese heritage through changing her name, further enforcing every single stereotype she carried and more!

(Though it's not as if there was a very good out for this aside from acknowledging the stereotype, tearing out everything about her character, and rebuilding her from the ground up. Either you make your Japan stereotype Japanese, confirming she's a walking stereotype, or you make your Japan stereotype a white girl, and confirm that she the character is stereotyping Japanese people. Either way, they wrote an offensive stereotype and refuse to fix it, because the stereotype is intrinsically tied to her character, and all that is supposed to be appealing and likable about it.)

Fatphobia:

I don't even know what to say. Here is a roleplay video from 2018, where the sideplot is that Aphmau eats too many hamburgers, causing her to hiss at fruits and vegetables like a feral cat. She goes for a jog with aaron, where she fails miserably until being deceived that there is a... "wild hamburger" in the bushes. The video ends with her bursting into tears over turning down a cookie. Eating and food humor are common in this era of video from the Aphmau channel, and these topics are never handled well.

(https://youtu.be/PnOCMK1i-hQ)

Basically every character who is implied to like food (aside from Nana/Kawaii-Chan, because of course a Japanese stereotype Cutesy Icon™ can't be fat, because being fat is not appealing in the eyes of the writers) is implied to also be both unhealthy and overweight. Three out of Four of the trivia bullet-points for Betty (FCU character) are about her love of food, because she genuinely has no other memorable traits. If I have to tell you what is wrong with this, I can't help you.

(https://aphmau.fandom.com/wiki/Betty_(MyStreet))

Abusive Workplace Allegations:

Back while it was still known as BluJay, Catface Studios was reportedly not a good place to work. Here are some twitter testimonies from ex-employees, ranging from things such as PTSD, to possible legal threats for speaking out about working conditions/experiences. (Some of the text is very small, click through to read better.)

A lot of these tweets are, at this point, deleted. Especially the more negative/accusatory ones. Some of them can still be found online, search for them if you're curious.

(And context for people unaware, _Castr_ aka Castor is the same person as The Chicken Shaman in MCD. He used to work on/be a part of a lot of Jess' old content, and was a writer on various projects for her for a VERY long time. I believe he was involved in the writing of MCD since Season 1, but if anyone has a source on that so I know I'm not misremembering, feel free to let me know. His sudden release was VERY shocking to me personally, seeing as how long he's been a part of Jess and Jason's work.)

Jess and Jason have also pretty iconically had beef with Sebastian Todd, the voice of Laurance. This beef is why Laurance rarely appears in videos, and was written out of Mystreet. I personally don't really care for either of the involved parties, but here's what Mithzan has to say about Sebastian:

Child Labor (???):

I literally don't know how else to describe it. This tweet (and linked google doc) from 2015 is the source of this one:

(This tweet is still up and available at this link by the way: https://twitter.com/_Aphmau_/status/661051379234922497) The bit.ly link (http://bit.ly/1Q10LEA) leads to a google doc (https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yPd1dsY99sOwIl_fITmUryfH4s00zVgiSuwodfcNiK8/edit) describing what a body actor is and where to apply to work as one for Jess. In case you don't feel like clicking links, here's just the "terms and conditions" and all listed requirements:

Yep, that's right, kids as young as 13 were encouraged to apply for this! Or even 12, if your birthday was close enough to the application date. Though it mentions "promotion", there is no payment mentioned or listed anywhere on the document. Presumably promotion is referring to asking for more important jobs, such as writers or voice actors, though I don't know for certain. Despite the mention of "credit given to you as the body actor" I do not remember seeing body actors ever credited on Aphmau videos of this era. (If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me, but I checked a couple MCD S2 episodes that came out a couple months after this, and could only ever find VAs credited.)

I don't know how young anyone who applied or was accepted was, and I don't know what their working conditions were like. I personally doubt anyone accepted was paid for their time at all, though I have nothing to back that up.

(Also, I don't know if that email is still active. And don't plan on testing it. I'd encourage not sending anything, just in case.)

Aggression towards fans:

This is more a point towards Jason specifically, but multiple times he has spoken out very... I don't even know how to phrase it. Agitatedly? Blame-y? Against fans on twitter for seemingly minimal or nonissues.

These are some of my "favorites," and by favorites I mean "I cannot believe a grown man actually said these things to young fans on twitter, for the crime of... wanting to see more non-Aarmau ships with Aphmau ???"

(These tweets are ALSO still up: https://twitter.com/JasonBravura/status/866345911571562496)

I'm sorry, but "whoring Aphmau's character out" is an INSANE thing to say about your literal actual IRL wife.

(Also he went real jokercore this one time I still cannot believe this is real.)

This is less of a serious accusation in comparison to some of the others, but looking at it with the following in mind makes an interesting picture:

Jess and Jason's Relationship:

Hate that I have to make this a bullet point given how fetishistic and weird people online are about celebrities/internet personalities' IRL relationships, but unfortunately this is necessary. The summary is, Aphmau and Aaron's 4 year age gap (Freshman and Senior in highschool) displayed in Phoenix Drop High is based on Jessica and Jason's real life relationship. Here's a better post breaking this down: https://www.tumblr.com/dantes-gf/648264700307668992/jess-and-jason-a-disturbing-dating-history

As of making this post, I believe Jessica's IRL age is 33 and Jason's IRL age is 37. They met before Jessica was 18, seeing as she moved in with him when she turned 18, as stated by Jessica herself in her Draw My Life video. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekOog6xKDMQ)

TLDR: Assuming the timeframe displayed in PDH is correct, their IRL ages suggest that Jessica was 14 and Jason was 18 when they started dating. This age gap is disturbing for obvious reasons.

Some fans have also found Jason controlling for things like this:

(I don't feel right commenting on this given the whole "This Is An IRL Relationship I Am Not A Part Of, And Thus Will Never Have As Much Insight Into As The People Who Are In It" thing, but here it is regardless. You can make your own judgements on it if you wish.)

Irresponsible Depictions of Abuse/Incest:

Ein is a character. He's certainly a character. If you don't know who he is, he appeared in Mystreet and Phoenix Drop High as a villain who wanted to romantically abuse and manipulate Aphmau. In some cases he succeeded. Towards the end of Mystreet Season 6, he was revealed to be Aphmau's sister. In contrast to his villainous persona in the main-story content, he appeared as friendly, teasing and even flirtatious in the mini-game and non-canon content. Many fans were upset to see him treated as a friendly member of the cast, instead of as the incestual abuser he is in canon.

Around mid-late 2018, many fans on tumblr were vocal about how they found Ein's story and character handled to be upsetting and uncomfortable. A voice actor for the channel (condescendingly) responded that depictions of bad things do not necessarily mean the writer is bad. This post was then reblogged by Aphmau's official tumblr account, without any commentary.(https://www.tumblr.com/aphmau/179882946599/hey-so)

Obviously writing about problematic things does not make you a bad person. You cannot have a story without conflict. What is concerning is writing about this content irresponsibly. Many fans around this time failed to understand that Ein should not be shipped romantically with Aphmau. This behavior was most alarmingly seen by (younger) fans who looked to the out-of-character minigame content of Ein for how he should be treated, and began shipping Aphmau and Ein without understanding the full force of their actions.

(Tumblr) Fans were then concerned about the responsibility involved in displaying this kind of content uncritically to younger audiences, especially since this time was when the mini-game videos became very clearly more aimed towards younger kids. This was Jessica's response, posted on tumblr: (https://www.tumblr.com/aphmau/179945128104/the-audience-of-my-channel)

It touches on the topic, but falsely identifies the main concern of fan backlash of mini-game and overall channel content becoming kid-friendly, instead of the real concern of irresponsibly exposing children to """friendly""" depictions of incest and abuse.

Making funny, silly content of abusers does not successfully condemn an abuser's actions. Making funny, silly content of an incestual relationship does not convey to the audience that the writer sees these actions as wrong. Without knowing that these text posts exist, the average fan would likely never even know they supposedly saw these things as an issue.

Not only has Catface never apologized for this, they later tried to retcon it out of existence:

This post sums it up pretty well. (https://www.tumblr.com/dantedeservedbetter/655931596641353728/oops-this-rant-was-longer-than-i-expected-but)

TLDR: Jessica/Catface has acknowledged that Ein was written to be Aphmau's sister multiple times, including a mini-game video in 2019 that directly referred to them as siblings in the title and thumbnail.

At some point after this comment was made, they changed the video title to be consistent with the "red herring" statement.

To spell it out, after defending their irresponsible portrayal of this abusive and incestual character for years, Catface quietly pretended like it was never an issue and erased all references to his sibling status, so that they did not have to keep trying to explain themselves or apologize.

If you need more proof, check out this tumblr post below where Jessica does not contest Ein's sibling status, which is directly mentioned and discussed in the ask prior! If it really was a red herring, then go on Jessica! Why not correct it here, when the sibling discussion is causing issues all the way back in 2018? That you yourself took credit for writing IN THIS POST! https://www.tumblr.com/aphmau/179877266199/i-think-jasons-a-really-good-guy-but-im-never

I think it's very clear why nothing about this was ever corrected earlier, and it's because they saw it as nothing needing correction. There is no red herring. Just a poorly-handled retcon.

Many characters are given this treatment in canon, where their poor writing was later friendly-ified or excused for little to no reason:

The treatment and attempted "redemption" of Derek, Aaron's abusive father in Phoenix Drop High/Mystreet, is another clear example of this poorly thought-out behavior.

As well as Travis and Katelyn's abusive relationship, which is initially handled seriously, then comically, then swept aside altogether.

As well as Ghost, the undead form of Emmalyn from Minecraft Diaries, who repeatedly forces herself upon Mystreet Zane, because she has confused Mystreet Zane and Minecraft Diaries Zane, and for some reason has also confused Minecraft Diaries Zane, the man who killed her husband... With her husband. Makes sense /s.

As well as.... whatever the hell is going on with Aphmau and Aaron's relationship in Mystreet altogether. Remember that time in Season 4 when Aphmau threw a rock at Aaron after he just got done freezing to death or whatever, because the person that helped him not die... was a girl...... ?????? and she was...... jealous ??????????? so she tried to hit him with a rock??????????????????? was this supposed to be cute??????????????????????????????????

Okay now here's the less serious stuff. Reasons people dont like Jessica and Jason beyond the horrible stuff.

Because the original asker was just asking why people are mad at Jess and Jason, and despite all of the above being very prevalent I mainly see people angry at them for the following:

Bad writing. It comes from both Jess and Jason. Stuff that isn't bad because it's offensive, but because it's just plain bad. In all produced rps, they frequently forget their own lore, characterizations, and write things that just plain make no sense. A lot of people get frustrated with that, understandably.

Stringing fans along. New MCD/Mystreet/Roleplay content is continuously promised and not followed up on. Seasons/series are left unfinished without warning, or rushed to completion in order to throw them in the bin and stop having to write them. Lots of fans have grown tired of hoping for new content for the things they originally followed for. The Aphmau Fantasy Stories channel is inactive for a reason.

Related to above, she mostly just does clickbait-cocomelon-styled videos targeted towards very young children now, which frustrates a lot of old or returning fans looking for more serious content.

Also related to above, retiring or benching main/beloved characters for seemingly no reason. This is most demonstrated by Laurance, but can also be seen in characters like Garroth, Daniel, Lucinda, and Vylad. (One commonality seems to be that this "benching" frequently happens when there are difficulties with employing the voice actor.)

Shipping. Yeah Aarmau is basically the only Aphmau ship featured anymore in all her content, and has been for a while. So people who don't ship that often don't like Jessica, Jason, or their modern content, since the characters are their self-inserts and it's basically their fault.

Content stealing. A lot of her work references other established works, such as making the wyvern dragon language in Minecraft Diaries just being the dragon shout language from Skyrim, taking the titles and sometimes names of the Divine Warriors from mythical figures featured in Final Fantasy, or, most egregiously, stealing the entire Mystreet Season 6 Finale from Fullmetal Alchemist. Yes, they really did do that. In my opinion, some of these seem like simple references to media she enjoys, while some of these (looking at you Mystreet Finale) just feel lazy at best and incredibly deceitful at worst.

The baby voices. All the VAs, including Aphmau, pitch their voices up to sound cartoony now. It's grating.

Jess learned the word "himbo" and now it is Garroth's only personality trait. It's grating.

The Fucklist, or sometimes referred to as The List, is a list Jessica made and posted on her tumblr of characters who, in a less child-friendly version of MCD, would have fucked. The sentence alone is upsetting enough. It's upsetting to read as well. And she didn't even include the canonical Aphmau and Aaron fucking, because it was spoilers at the time. Maybe this doesn't belong here, I don't know if this is the One Reason why a fan has turned on her. But it's probably been the straw that broke some poor camel's back out there.

Some Mystreet fans don't enjoy the more lore-heavy later seasons, and prefer the sillier slice-of-life first couple seasons that the series was originally written with the intention of following.

Similarly to above, some Mystreet fans don't enjoy the MCD crossover lore added late in Mystreet Season 6. Some MCD fans don't enjoy that the series now crosses over with Mystreet.

And more im probably not thinking of at the moment.

You cannot unlearn what you have learned here today.

Sorry.

[xian1na]

buncha words bout some spring animes #5

Now that I'm a Serious and Employed Person I appreciate series like Skip and Loafer or SpyFam even more. There's nothing better than coming back home and relaxing with some cute and funny anime. It may well be that if I rewatched some older series which I'd dropped or skipped altogether because they seemed boring, I would actually like them much more now. Well, for now let's stick to spring shows. Enjoy!

The Witch from Mercury (season 2, ep. 1-3) - one more week and I'll finally catch up to GWitch. These first three episodes were a real rollercoaster - we started with a pretty chill one, just reestablishing the characters and plot for the second cour. AND THEN! Episode two was wild. I gotta say, what's really amazing about the writing in this series is how it keeps introducing asshole characters, only to make you feel sorry for them after just a couple of episodes. And it actually works, I really care about these guys. I want to believe they're going to be alright... I don't know how dark Gundam endings usually are, but I get a feeling it's better to expect the worst and get a nice surprise, instead of the other way around.

Oshi no Ko (ep. 6) - yeah, yeah, I've watched another one. I planned to give it one last chance before dropping it but then Oshi no Ko had the gall to drop the best episode since the prologue. I still have some issues with it but I think it did a great job characterising Akane (and Yuki, too), making her relatable and sympathetic. What helped a lot was that Aqua was barely present in this one. You know what guys, I don't think I like Aqua very much. Which is a shame, because acting and film stuff in this series interests me more than idol stuff. Methinks I should look for some anime/manga about acting.

Skip and Loafer (ep. 7) - The highlight of this episode was seeing the drama club pres guy actually doing something decent for a change. And of course we have a brand new character introduced in the last minutes of the episode. I guess she's either Shima's family or one of the people he met when he was an actor. I wonder how will this plot develop and how will this person be neutralised by Mitsumi. Or hey, maybe she won't be! There are some people with whom you just don't get along, and I don't see that a lot in anime, I don't think.

Heavenly Delusion (ep. 6-7) - We got less school and more Maru and Kiruko's adventures, I'm definitely fine with that. Episode 6 had some great jokes, faces and cuts of animation, and episode 7 on the other hand got really disturbing towards the end. I like how this series treats the characters' sexuality (so far) - I mean, they're kids, they're figuring things out, and it's presented with honesty you don't often see. These episodes were also a bit thinner on plot elements and mysteries, but I liked that. I guess it could be a breather before what comes next.

Hell's Paradise (ep. 7) - Last week I speculated, that something major was going to happen this episode. That... turned out to be wrong, more or less. We now know a little bit more about the island and the elixir of life, but the majority of the episode was devoted to lighter character moments. So now I don't even know what I should expect next week. To be honest Jigokuraku is also close to falling off my watchlist but I'll give it one more chance.

Insomniacs after school (ep. 4-6) - Aaaand I caught up to Insomniacs. I think it's growing on me - the side characters were nicely fleshed out in the recent episodes and the relationship between the two leads is cute (not my top ship of the season, but they're nice kids!). Am I really going to watch another romance series this season? I almost never watch them!

I skipped Yamada-kun this week, but I'm definitely coming back to it next time. And finally:

Spy x Family (ep. 10-12) - Ok, two things: 1) Bill Watkins (6) was even better than whatever I was picturing before watching the episode and the whole game of dodgeball was a riot. 2) And then episode 11 had some brilliant Anya Starlight Anya moments. I can't wait to see the pupper. Thankfully I don't have to wait three months, I can jump right in the second cour. Episode 12 was kind of a weak follow-up to the two preceding episodes and a weird finale to the whole season, but the penguins were cute. So really, it's impossible to say if it was good or bad.

And that's it from me! Thanks so much for reading, have a great week and see you next Saturday!

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Okay, I’m sorry but I wanna say this just to say it because if I don’t it’ll be on my mind all night. It’s more or less a question sorta rant so it won’t be anything too extreme like the others but yeah. My question is can we actually call Hades a morally grey character? Like in his case is that really what we should call him? Let me explain.

Basically I’ve been thinking about it a lot because me personally, I enjoy making morally grey characters. I have a whole set of characters who are neither good or bad people mostly because I feel like it’s more therapeutic for me. To be able to create characters going through similar experiences as I do/did while also having them show me the good and bad side of my personality makes me really reflect on myself and really show me how far I’ve come. I don’t know it’s kind of like an out of body experience for me, but moving away from that I came to this question because I wanted to give Hades the benefit of a doubt one day and say that maybe he’s just a morally grey character. But I really can’t see myself categorizing him as that because of his actions and overall personality and here’s why.

The whole point of morally grey characters for me is basically characters who have a balance, like that’s the whole point of morally grey characters. Characters who aren’t good or bad but rather neutral in a sense and honestly I don’t see that with Hades. He doesn’t do many good things for people unless they’re connected to Persephone in a way and naturally throws tantrums and other things. Listen I know the guy has trauma and shit so sometimes he has defense mechanisms and shit but I don’t like that that’s the excuse, let’s be fair y’all if anyone else acted like how Hades acts no one would be defending them. Exactly what happened with Zeus and them, they had their backstories showed and not many people excused them for their behavior so let’s stop doing that with Hades when he makes it his mission to make everyone’s day terrible.

But yeah, I don’t think he’s the worst person in the world or anything but he definitely isn’t the best in the slightest, all of the good he’s done for others has been the bare minimum and he has to be one of the most underdeveloped characters in the comic. I’m not saying that I hate the whole “I love my wife” energy or anything (in this case I do.. very much) because when done right I actually really enjoy it. For example I am a huge huge admirer of Morticia and Gomez’s relationship and I appreciate and love the appeal of Gomez’ devotion and genuine love for his wife, the difference between how Hades does it in comparison to how Gomez does is that his dialogue about his wife is so natural and genuine it’s like love and respect in its purest form, when he says he loves his wife you know it’s something true and it’s not something that’s not too extreme and not too lacking. It’s a balance and they don’t go overboard with either, I also love how even though his world revolves around Morticia he’s still his own person with hobbies and other interests including her, when you look into Gomez you don’t just see Morticia you see him as an individual. That’s what Hades’ character is missing, it gets old when every little thought is Persephone and every single thing he says is related to Persephone as well, it’s also sad that besides Persephone’s “love” there’s no real growth or anything there’s nothing there for Hades’ character except being Persephone’s other half.

That’s why their dynamic is just so insufferable, they need to overcompensate this idea that they’re in love so much but won’t really show us small little details and such. Take them on a date or something, make them have an actual connection that isn’t just staring at each other’s bodies more, there’s been times where they both had some special moments but they all get overshadowed by this lust for one another. Also unlike Gomez and Morticia none of their love is genuine or natural, it feels forced.. It doesn’t actually feel like Hades loves Persephone just because he believes he is, it feels more like he needs Persephone in his life to function. Like not as a partner but as a crutch, like if he doesn’t have her or talk about her he’ll crumble and fall apart. Which makes sense since like I said earlier his whole character surrounds itself around her and her only, but that’s not love and it’s not what it’s supposed to be about. Obsession does not equal love and if you need your lover that badly then you’re gonna need some time for yourself and by yourself to get down to the root of why you feel so dependent on your partner.

But anyways that’s the end of the rant, I saw the few explanations about the new episodes and I agree with everyone saying that Hades doesn’t see Persephone as capable because it’s true, she’s eaten the pomegranate and everything you’d think she’d have some sort of authority now but Hades doesn’t want her interacting with the kingdom unless it’s all peachy keen. Basically if the kingdom isn’t easy enough to run Hades will literally lie to Persephone and let her sit around and handle the important things. I find it really funny how we’re supposed to believe that they’re now progressing in their relationship when one of them doesn’t even trust the other with very big decisions that’ll effect them both. Like the old saying goes, “if there’s no trust there’s no relationship” and there’s no real foundation for those two just lust and compliments. But also I hate how Demeter got demonized for treating Persephone like a child but Hades does that every episode even treating her like that in the presence of her peers, like is that not embarrassing for her? Why is she okay with her literal partner not seeing her as an actual adult when it comes to doing adult things but she crosses the line when her mom does the same thing. That’s pretty inconsistent character writing there, and I just hope more people will hold Hades accountable I’m so tired of people blindly praising him for every little thing and insulting other characters for doing the same things. But anyways, just like I say every rant this was meaningless and should not be used as fact or fuel to berate and insult LO fans, that’s not what I made this page for it’s literally just so I can write down whatever I want so it should never be taken seriously, these are all my thoughts and opinions and if you agree or disagree is both fine with me.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Okay, I just wanna say that Ganondorf in ToTK, despite not having Wind Waker’s pathos, is easily the best Ganondorf we’ve had (which is surprising considering some parts of the story). He’s terrifying whenever he shows his mug, he’s active and damn near omnipresent though Puppet Zelda and the Phantom Ganons/gloom spawns, and he’s easily the most unhinged take on the character we’ve ever seen. As for his motives, it’s as simple as turning hyrule into a chaotic hellish landscape where the only rule is that the strong thrive and the weak die, which isn’t really unique, but the landscape and monsters in the game kinda cements how bad that would be.

I get we were kinda expecting another Wind Waker situation, but what we got is great too because Ganondorf was great in Ocarina of Time and he too wasnt anything beyond pure near omnipresent evil.

I mean... I think it's as good as any a time to bring up a really important distinction to the way I critique stuff in general, which is that there's a part of interacting with art that is kind of is... true at a fundamental level? That fundamental level being the emotional response. Nobody can ever be more right or wrong for their emotional response, it's kind of non-debatable.

So I'm really glad TotK Ganondorf did it for you! I genuinely am. I actually loved some things about his incarnation; the musical motifs and the way they are integrated within the story (!!! so good), the concept of Fake Zelda, the actual final fight which I 100% agree is the best one we ever had (still love the TP one, but, the horseback part is a little eeeh and the swordfight could have been harder), his various designs, Gloom Hand and Phantom Ganon which are probably among my favorite parts of the game...

But yeah, I suppose I'm the kind of annoying player who needs a solid thematic framework to relax and accept the scenario proposed (the kind that is driven by mimicry and meaning, which is, I have to admit, especially hard and ungrateful to design for --and so is, often, completely ignored *sobs*). So I would have been completely fine with a Ganondorf without pathos, but one that did fit better within its own environment and countered the themes of the game and developed an ideological philosophy that you could solidly oppose, and not just treating him as an excuse to usher the gameplay forward (I mean, he did betray the gerudos which stranded him while you get to receive everyone's help, but he is not alone in practice! Every monster stands by his side! He may even have a more devoted and stronger support system than you depending on how you play the game). But that goes beyond Ganondorf: I had much trouble seeing past the self-referential and actually enjoy what Tears of the Kingdom had to offer in terms of emotional texture.

But yeah. Could not get behind the writing and a lot of choices in terms of... I don't know, the timing of his maniacal laughter, for example? I feel like a good maniacal laughter needs to be earned, and there's so many times where it just felt completely cheap to me? Even OoT Ganondorf, who had his share of cheap laughter moments, kind of had them work by the simple fact that they were here to directly mock us, the player, and our actions (if I remember well he only has two in the entire game: one after getting his way within the Sacred Realm, and one right before the final battle). We're not going over the extraordinary WW laughter, which is everything to me, but I also really enjoyed the kind-of-unhinged-but-sober take on TP Ganondorf, where he laughs only once and because he knows that he is close to losing probably. I think that was a great characterization, and I'm kind of sad they got rid of it to replace it with [insert maniacal laughter here] sort of approach that isn't specific to the character built over the years (except for the moment where he turns into a dragon, which was the one I liked the most --but it was greatly overused in my opinion).

So I really think his absence of specificy and the fact that his plans are pretty much nonsensical when you examine them for more than a minute, and the fact that he was all over the place and actually sparring with you and building direct grief with you in previous titles, where here I really wasn't sold on why I was supposed to invest myself in the situation besides a vague sense of duty and "that's what the game expects of me" really... didn't sell me the intimidation or the presence. There are a couple of iconic moments that I genuinely loved to see (the whole fist in the throat was GREAT, and perhaaaaps the "come at me" tho even THAT is self-referential grumble grumble sorry to be like this I'm genuinely sorry, the thought wouldn't even have crossed my mind if everything else about him wasn't a strange patchwork, but, it does pile up), but, I needed the framework to stand on its own to genuinely love him in this game.

But I'm really glad if he scratched the itch for you! Most people seem to agree too, which is great. I just... I mean, I am obviously invested in this not becoming the standard of quality. I think we could keep a lot of what worked here and add a scoop of better writing and thematic consistency, and I'd be on board way more already.

[captain-astors]

01 Tokis Ghoul :)))

Awful takes ahoy

Favorite character:

It changes frequently but Takizawa has permanent residence in at least the top 3. Recently I've been liking Shikorae.

Least Favorite character:

I've mentioned that the worst offense a character can make is being boring. So I probably don't remember them at all, but of the ones I do know :re Touka. She's so sadly bland and it just feels like her personality hasn't been developed just taken down a couple notches. I like her so much! I don't like what was done with her.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Oh god, in no particular order:

If I had to pick one of the big three kaneki ships: Shuuneki. shuunaki because I read a couple good fics, utaren's very interesting to me romantically and platonically, I heard of Eto Itori and Rize once and it's lived in my mind since. And then one of my many rarepairs that will seem weird or outright nonsensical is furushuu. I won't bother attempting to explain, I'd get nowhere, but if you were me it'd seem so interesting I promise. My favorite genre for all of these except for itorizeto (of which I just think they should conquer the world, the way their names connect so easily makes me happy. They're entirely there if you look at them individually, but as a whole they also overlap with each other!) is one-sided affection. I'm a fan of pining.

Character I find most attractive: 

I've never really sat back and gone "wow that is a pretty person" while reading Tokyo Ghoul. The closest I've gotten was seeing an Ayato cosplayer just pick up a person and carry them, matsumae for a moment, and when I first got into the series, Shuu.

Character I would marry: 

Kanae.

Character I would be best friends with:

Kanae, Kurona, and Nishiki seem cool but they'd hate my guts! Anyone that comes to mind first as an interesting as a friend would probably want me dead, So Hanbee or Koori. They could learn to tolerate me.

a random thought:

When tumblr starts being thirsty over “that old man” I do think of Kureo Mado (Akira’s dad) I Am Sorry. I will not change.

An unpopular opinion:

This fandom is too dead for me to know what a popular opinion is so: Kaneki isn't that interesting after the tsukiyama extermination arc, and Touka's speech to him when he came back to Anteiku did literally nothing. Touka and Hide's influence gives Kaneki brief moments of clarity before doing something stupid that'll hurt people, and then he does the stupid thing that'll hurt people anyways but we should root for him anyways because he's thinking of them... Is suppose.

My Canon OTP:

This is a funny one because I am either neutral or outright annoyed by most canon ships. I guess Nishikimi, they support and love each other and Kimi’s character couldn’t be assassinated to love a man because it was a quality of her personality from the beginning, and even if :re doesn’t devote too much time to her she’s still an influential and decent character.  

My Non-canon OTP: 

I kind of ship almost anything that drifts my way a little bit and nothing passionately. You could give me any of the ones I've mentioned and 50% of those I haven't and I'd go "yeah sure that one"

Most Badass Character:

ETO YOSHIMURA MY EVERYTHING, I don’t care how many times Kaneki changes his hair color she is unmatched.

Most Epic Villain:

Furuta and his weird methods. It’s unfortunate we never got a real idea of how strong he is because kingneki got a final form complete with religious imagery to crush the sinner! And barely took a scratch that entire fight. Seriously if the early confrontation with an aggressive bisexual with a poorly thought out plan trying to eat your main character is more intense than the final fight of the series with a character who’s a living manifestation of all of the issues that characters in this series suffer from, both on the receiving and giving end, I feel like it’s all gone off the deep end.

Pairing I am not a fan of:

The two weirdly-prevalent-in-the-old-fandom cousin pairings. Yes the one-sided attraction is canon, they’re still cousins and I don’t like it when that obsession is romanticized even when rewritten to be “ethical” otherwise. Unhealthy pairings can be interesting if handled well but they’re also related. But if you want my petty "nothing wrong with this the vibes just aren't it" answer, Hinami and Ayato.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

Is all of them an option. Mostly joking but really, so many of them never got a good resolution or were straight up abandoned by the narrative but it's okay because look! Main character got a happy family! Not sure how because from the state we saw him in earlier I don't think he's fit to have a stable friendship let alone a wife and two kids but alright I guess kisses cure issues. I feel the worst for Takizawa, Furuta, Shuu, and Mutsuki currently because I'm thinking about how they never got a good resolution.

Favourite Friendship:

I’m making it friendshipS because there is no way I could limit myself to just 1, Chie and Tsukiyama, Shikorae and Takizawa, the clowns in general, the quinx squad in general, and I know it's not nearly canon but Furuta and Eto were made enemies BECAUSE GOD WAS AFRAID OF WHAT THEY WOULD ACHIEVE IF THEY WERE FRIENDS. I like to ponder the mischief and mind games that would ensue they're so awful.

Character I most identify with:

Oh I'm not self aware enough for this one assign me a person if you wish! I've been made to take quiz things a few times and I believe my results from those have been taki, kuki, and furuta but I don't trust my reading comprehension skills, the quiz makers opinions, or my own answers enough to trust that.

Character I wish I could be:

If we're just talking abilities, Shikorae. If you mean "You literally have to become them", unfortunately how fun it would be to play their role comes hand in hand with trauma, Touma Higemaru perhaps. Bikakus are my favorite kind of Kagune, and he's a pretty blank slate. I could do a lot, anyone with more intrigue ends up dead or completely alone.

I had a lot of fun with this one.