#(white briefs not visible in photo)

[yannawayne]

INJUSTICE 2 INTRO INTERACTIONS. batboys x villain! reader

SYNOPSIS: I have very specific and odd hyperfixiations. Warnings for typical blood and violence + suggestive flirting in Dick, Jason, and Tim.

-> BATMAN X ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! BATMOM -> NIGHTWING X CATGIRL! READER -> REDHOOD X AMAZON! JOKER'S KILLER! READER -> RED ROBIN X IVY! READER -> DAMIAN X FORMER ARRANGED L.O.A WIFE! BLIND! READER

──────── ⵌ GAME LOADING ...

-> BATMAN X ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! BATMOM

Bruce is transported to an alternate universe where you two were never in love and instead enemies. He can't bare to see what you might have become without him or his sons.

(Bruce slowly removes his cowl, revealing his pained blue eyes staring at you, filled with sorrow and longing.)

BRUCE: "You'd be proud of the men our sons have become."

(You tighten your grip on your sword, the knuckles turning white. For a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable crosses your face, but you quickly mask it with indifference. You shake your head and raise your blade.)

AU! BATMOM: "They mean nothing in this world."

(With a burst of speed, you launch yourself at him, the clash of metal on metal resonating through the night as your blade meets his defense. The force of your attack drives Bruce back a step, but he holds his ground.)

BRUCE: "In mine, they are everything because of you."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(A cloud of smoke erupts, obscuring the dimly lit alley as Bruce emerges from the shadows. His cape billows behind him, creating a striking silhouette against the flickering streetlights.)

BRUCE: "Our sons would never recognize you like this."

(You stand still for a moment, the sharp slice of blades cutting through the air as you flip them effortlessly. The sound is a whisper of danger. Your stance is guarded, eyes steely and cold, betraying no emotion.)

AU! BATMOM: "Good. I have no use for children."

(Bruce scowls, the harsh lines on his face deepening. He curls his hand into a fist, muscles tensing visibly under his suit, readying himself for the inevitable confrontation.)

BRUCE: "But every son deserves a mother���s love, no matter the universe."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce reaches into his utility belt with practiced ease, pulling out two Batarangs. He holds them firmly, the metal cool and reassuring in his grip)

BRUCE: "I can't look at you without seeing her."

(You lift your chin defiantly, a sharp smile playing on your lips.)

AU! BATMOM: "Ha! I am not your wife."

(Bruce frowns, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his weapons closer to his face, preparing to defend. He refuses to fight you.)

BRUCE: " "But you wear her face, and that’s enough to remind me of what I’ve lost."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce maneuvers the Batmobile with precision, stopping abruptly before flipping out and landing on the ground.)

BRUCE: "I see the pain behind your eyes. It's the same pain she hides."

(You huff, striding towards him with purpose. The sword at your hip sings as you draw it, the blade catching the light ominously.)

AU! BATMOM: "Don't presume to know me."

(Bruce stands straighter, his glare unwavering as he meets your gaze head-on.)

BRUCE: "I know her, and that’s why I can’t give up on you."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce holds a photo in his hands, a photo of your family. His eyes soften as he looks at it, his grip tender despite the battle raging around him.)

BRUCE: "I dream of bringing her here to show you what you could be."

(Your back is turned against him, but you slowly face his way, the sound of your sword being unsheathed filling the tense silence.)

AU! BATMOM: "Dreams are for the weak."

(Bruce pockets the photo with care, then assumes a combat stance, his eyes never leaving yours.)

BRUCE: "No, they’re for the hopeful. And I will never stop hoping for you."

 ༻⊰───⋅ (Bruce grunts as your legs tighten around him, choking him. His face contorts with effort as he twists his body, managing to knock you off and get to his feet, breathing heavily.)

BRUCE: "In my world, you're my everything. Here, you're my nightmare."

(You walk off the fall and stand tall, your posture defiant and unwavering. A cold smirk plays on your lips as you step toward him.)

AU! BATMOM: "Dreams and nightmares are two sides of the same coin, Bat."

(Bruce braces himself, legs apart, muscles coiled like a spring, preparing for the inevitable clash.)

Batman: "I just wish I could flip it back."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> NIGHTWING X CATGIRL! READER

You've been playing this cat-and-bat chase ever since he was Robin. Now as Nightwing, he can't help but long for something deeper.

(You perch on a rooftop edge, your silhouette lit by the moonlight as you smirk down at him. Leaping from the edge, you flip gracefully through the air before landing in a crouch in front of him.)

CATGIRL: "You know, curiosity killed the cat."

(Dick steps towards you, pulling his escrima sticks from his back. He hits them together, producing a crackle of electricity that illuminates the smirk on his face.)

NIGHTWING: "Good thing satisfaction brought it back."

(Purring, you trail your claws down your chest, your eyes locked on his.)

CATGIRL: "Show me how you satisfy, Nightwing."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick whistles as he walks towards you in his police uniform, swinging handcuffs with his fingers. The polished badge on his chest glints under the bank’s dim lights.)

OFFICER! GRAYSON: "Why don't you switch sides? You'd make a great hero."

(You laugh and stalk towards him, not even bothering to avoid the tripwires in the bank. The alarms remain silent, disabled by your expert touch.)

CATGIRL: "A kitty in a cape? Not my style."

(Dick shakes his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he unlatches the handcuffs, the metal clinking softly.)

OFFICER! GRAYSON: "You could do so much good, you know."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Laughing, you knock Dick to the ground, but with a swift move, he rolls you over, tackling you to the side and straddling you with a grin.)

NIGHTWING: "I know all your weak spots."

(You feel the heat of his body against yours, but you twist from his grip, slipping out and flipping away to a safe distance. You land lightly on your feet, drawing your claws with a predatory smile.)

CATGIRL: "You think you can make me purr?"

(Dick smirks, his eyes glinting with challenge. He rolls his shoulders, the muscles rippling under his suit, and tosses his head back.)

NIGHTWING: "I’ll have you screaming my name."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick watches as you strut along the edge of a building, hips swaying with each step, your balance effortless. )

NIGHTWING: "You know, Blüdhaven could use someone like you."

(You toss your head back with a playful smile, bending before executing a flawless flip towards him, landing gracefully.)

CATGIRL: "What, their own version of Catwoman?"

(Dick’s expression softens, the playful smile fading from his face, replaced by a more earnest look. He steps towards you and twirls his escrima sticks in the air.)

NIGHTWING: "No. Another hero."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You flip yourself over a rooftop edge, your hair falling in loose waves as you look down at Nightwing's panting form from above.)

CATGIRL: "What's the matter, Nightwing? Can't handle a little cat-and-bat chase?"

(Dick grins and throws his head back to look up at you, exposing the strong line of his jaw. Beads of sweat trickle down his face and neck, glistening in the moonlight. With a slow motion, he tucks his batons back into his back.)

NIGHTWING: "Oh. I can handle a lot more than that."

(Smirking, you slip off the rooftop and land right in front of him with a thud. You purr as you step closer, lashing your whip around you.)

CATGIRL: "Prove it, and I might let you handle me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Snarling, Dick licks at the stripe of blood running over his lip. You saunter a few feet away, licking your canines, which are stained with his blood.)

NIGHTWING: "You know, we could stop all this fighting."

(You smirk and draw your claws, eyes narrowing into slits.)

CATGIRL: "And what would we do instead, loverboy?"

(Dick smirks and crosses his arms, giving you a tantalizing view of his biceps, the fabric of his suit straining slightly.)

NIGHTWING: "I have a few ideas. None of them involve clothes."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick speeds through the city on his motorcycle, the engine roaring beneath him. With a swift, fluid motion, he flips off the bike, landing perfectly on his feet. The bike crashes in the distance, a burst of sparks lighting up.)

NIGHTWING: "You keep running, but I’ll always catch you."

(You turn to face him, a sharp smile playing on your lips, a shiny new jewel glinting in your hand under the moonlight.)

CATGIRL: "Maybe I just like the chase."

(Dick rolls his eyes, a mix of exasperation and amusement crossing his face, before he drops into a fighting stance, tensed and ready.)

NIGHTWING: "How about we skip to the part where I pin you down?"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The jail cell door clanks shut as Dick locks you inside. You coo at him, reaching out to cup his cheek, but he knocks your hand away, his eyes filled with anger.)

NIGHTWING: "Every time you run, it feels like you’re slipping away from me."

(You frown and move away, slipping back into the shadows of the cell, the dim light casting eerie patterns on your figure.)

CATGIRL: "Running is all I know."

(Dick frowns, his hand tightening on the cold metal bars. His voice is filled with a deep, aching sincerity as he gazes into the darkness where you stand.)

NIGHTWING: "I just wish you'd run towards me instead."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> REDHOOD X AMAZON! READER

Wonder Woman's daughter, once a proud heroine, now an outcast from the League after you killed the Joker in a vengeful rage for your lover's death. You try to run, he doesn't let you.

(With a fierce cry, you bring your sword down in a powerful arc, slicing through your enemies. Blood sprays as you cut down your chasers, the ground beneath you becoming slick with the crimson evidence of your wrath. You turn around just in time to see Jason charging towards you.)

A: "Cease this. The League will hunt me down like an animal."

(Jason scowls, his expression dark as he cocks his guns and reloads his rubber bullets. He barrels into the fray, firing relentlessly and mowing down the wave of heroes coming after you.)

JASON: "They won’t touch you as long as I’m breathing."

(You spin, delivering a bone-crushing blow to an opponent's jaw, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone beneath your knuckles.)

A: "You can’t fight the whole League, my love! I’m a liability."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Jason frowns and reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. The battle still thrums in the air around you, but in this moment, it's just the two of you.)

JASON: "Don’t let B’s opinion define you."

(You knock him away with a fierce shove, drawing your shield up defensively. Your sword hangs by your side, stained with the blood of your enemies, the weight of it a reminder of your actions.)

A: "He’s your father. His scorn is a heavy burden to bear."

(Jason steps forward, dropping his guns. He cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him, his touch both gentle and firm.)

JASON: "To hell with what he thinks. I love you, and that’s what matters."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The two of you circle each other, eyes locked in their own battle. Jason's guns are pointed at you, his face twisted in agony.)

JASON: "I hate that your hands are bloodied for my sake."

(You drop your shield and sword, the clatter of metal echoing in the tense silence. Raising your stained hands, you step closer, showing him the blood that marks your skin.)

A: "I’d stain them a thousand times for you."

(Jason's eyes flicker with pain and frustration as he lowers his guns.)

JASON: "And I wanted to keep them clean."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(With a growl, you swing your sword at Jason, the blade whistling through the air. He ducks, rolling to the side and coming up with his guns aimed at you. You charge forward, deflecting his shots with your shield.)

JASON: "You think running away will solve anything?"

(You catch his leg with your shield, throwing him off balance before punching him in the jaw.)

A: "You don’t understand the price I’ve paid!"

(Jason wipes the blood from his lip, eyes flashing with anger and sorrow as he lunges at you.)

JASON:"I understand more than you think! And I’m here to help you!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You stand at the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping through your hair as you face Jason. Swinging your sword, you knock it against your shield, the clang echoing in the open air.)

A: "You think you’re man enough to stop me?"

(Jason scoffs as you lunge at him. He blocks your hit, twisting your arm behind your back and pulling you close.)

JASON: "I’ve got the scars to prove it."

(You twist out of his grip, using your strength to knock him to his back. You pick your shield back up, foot moving to press down on him.)

A: "Show me those scars up close."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You scream as you're thrown back with his kick, your back slamming into the wall. Gasping for breath, you watch as Jason reaches for your shield, which had been knocked away during the fight. He picks it up and walks over to you, dropping it to your feet.)

JASON: "They say love makes you do crazy things."

(You take the shield from him, your breath still heavy from the exertion. You stand tall, despite the pain coursing through your body.)

A: "Like taking a life for the one you love?"

(Jason's gaze intensifies, and he steps closer.)

JASON: "Like risking your heart for a broken soul like mine."

 ༻⊰───⋅

RED ROBIN X IVY! READER

Poison Ivy's protégé, you and Tim couldn't be more different. He thrives on technology and his man-made gadgets, while you draw your strength from the untamed power of the green.

(A large vine from above dips down, its lush, green leaves swaying gently as you perch on it. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you look down at Tim.)

IVY: "You think you can handle all this greenery, techie?"

(Tim smirks, twirling a small device in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the device emits a pulse, causing the vine to tremble and wither.)

R! ROBIN: "I’ve got a green thumb, but I'd rather get my hands on you."

(You slide down the vine, landing gracefully in front of him, your eyes narrowing. You summon a thick vine to wrap around his legs, but Tim's quick reflexes kick in as he flips over it, landing in a crouch.)

IVY: "Hm. Only if you promise to get dirty."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim steps closer, his expression softening as he activates his bo staff, the weapon extending with a mechanical whir. He swings it in a wide arc, deflecting the thorny vines you hurl at him.)

R! ROBIN: "You're not like her, you know."

(You scoff, crossing your arms as a cluster of flowers bloom at your feet. You raise your hand, sending a barrage of petals sharp as knives his way. Tim deftly spins his staff, creating a shield.)

IVY: "Who, Ivy? Maybe not yet."

(Tim's eyes soften, his grip on the staff loosening slightly as he steps closer.)

R! ROBIN: "And you don't have to be."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You pace around him, a vine curling up from the ground and snaking towards his feet. Tim notices and sidesteps, slashing at the vine with his staff.)

IVY: "Ever think about leaving the Bat?"

(Tim frowns, his bo staff sweeping down to cut the vine before it can ensnare him.)

R! ROBIN: "Ever think about leaving Ivy?"

(You grin, a sly smile playing on your lips as you summon a wall of thorns behind him. He leaps backward, landing nimbly on top of the thorns, balancing effortlessly.)

IVY: "Touché."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim looks around at the flourishing plants, his staff humming with energy as he uses his tech to scan for weaknesses in your creations.)

R! ROBIN: "I see you've been busy with your plants again."

(You gently caress a leaf, your voice soft as a tendril wraps around his ankle. He quickly discharges an electric shock from his staff, causing the tendril to release him.)

IVY: "They listen better than people do."

(Tim's staff whirls, cutting through the tendril effortlessly as he advances.)

R! ROBIN: "Maybe you just need the right person to listen."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he disarms a trap you set with a quick twist of his wrist. He flips over another set of vines you send his way, landing in a crouch.)

R! ROBIN: "Your touch brings life to these plants."

(You raise an eyebrow, intrigued as flowers bloom around you. You step down from your vine and saunter toward him.)

IVY: "Imagine what it could do to you."

(Tim smiles, a challenge in his eyes as he deactivates his staff, stepping closer.)

R! ROBIN: "I’m willing to find out."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim walks towards you, engrossed with the device on his wrist, tapping on the holographic table that hovers above it.)

IVY: "What’s a techie like you doing in a place like this?"

(Your voice coos at him as you emerge from the ground, vines whipping all around you. Tim smirks and turns his attention back to you, the holograph shutting off.)

R! ROBIN: "Looking for a beautiful flower to pick."

(You smirk, your vines thriving in the light as you swipe at him, narrowly missing. He ducks and rolls, coming up with a blade ready. Scoffing, you trace a hand up your neck, your eyes narrowing with playful menace.)

IVY: "Just make sure you can handle the thorns."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim reaches out, brushing his fingers against a blossom, his staff ready at his side as he keeps an eye on you.)

R! ROBIN: "We could build something beautiful together."

(You shake your head, a hint of sadness in your voice as you create a protective barrier of foliage around yourself. Tim uses his tech to create a small opening, stepping through it.)

IVY: "Beautiful things always wither and die."

(Tim takes your hand, squeezing it gently as he deactivates his staff, the barrier of foliage parting around you. He pulls you closer, his voice soft and earnest.)

R! ROBIN: "Not if we tend to them with care."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> DAMIAN X L.O.A! READER

Arranged to marry since birth by Talia, Damian had promised to be yours for life. However, after his betrayal of the League, he left you behind. You were labeled as a co-conspirator, and as punishment for his treason, you were blinded.

(Blades glint under the dim light as you twirl your fan, the air around you whistling with its sharp edges. Damian stands a few feet away, his katana ready in his hand, emerald eyes fixed on you.)

DAMIAN: "Has my mother sent you?"

(You laugh and throw your head back in disbelief. The cloth wrapped around your eye flows in the wind. Raising a hand, you slip it off and show him your empty eyes.)

L.O.U: "Do I look like her pawn? Do you not see what she has done to me? This is my kill, not hers."

(Damian's eyes narrow, his stance shifting as he prepares to engage. )

DAMIAN: "Then why do you hesitate?"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You feel the rush of air as Damian's katana swings towards you. Instinctively, you duck and counter with a sweeping arc of your fan, sensing his presence.)

L.O.U: "You walked away from everything."

(Damian's footsteps echo as he moves swiftly, his voice carrying a note of deep regret.)

DAMIAN: "Only to realize everything is you, habibti."

(You pivot on your heel, using your heightened senses to track his position, your fan poised to strike again.)

L.O.U: "Fool! You think words can mend this?!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The sound of his breath and the shuffle of his feet guide you as you launch a series of rapid strikes. Damian blocks each one, his katana creating a rhythmic pattern against your fan. Finally, he pushes his blade against yours, locking it between his fist.)

DAMIAN: "Beloved, losing your sight... I did not know my mother... I cannot even imagine—"

(You lash out with your fan, the blades narrowly missing Damian’s face as he parries with his katana. You both step back, circling each other, the tension between you palpable.)

L.O.U: "I do not need your pity, bastard!"

(Damian's eyes harden, but his voice remains soft.)

DAMIAN: "Not pity. Guilt. And a desperate need to make things right."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You leap forward, your fan spinning with deadly precision. Damian blocks the first strike but then purposefully drops his katana, stepping into your range. You scoff, surprised, as he grabs your wrist and forces you to drop your fan.)

L.O.U: "You think your guilt means anything to me?"

(Damian's movements falter for a brief moment, his voice raw with emotion. You kick and scream against his chest so hard he felt as though there would be bruises but he could care less.)

DAMIAN: "It tears me apart every day."

(You pull back, freeing your wrist and shifting into a defensive stance, your voice dripping with bitterness.)

L.O.U: "Good. Now you know a fraction of my pain."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Without your weapons, you both engage in a flurry of hand-to-hand combat. Damian blocks your strikes, deflecting your blows with minimal force, showing his reluctance to hurt you.)

DAMIAN: "Our marriage was more than a strategy to me."

(You laugh, a harsh sound, as you aim a kick at his midsection. He catches your leg and gently sets it down.)

L.O.U: "Yes. It was a lie."

(With a scream of anger, you tackle him, but he twists mid-fall, using his momentum to pin you to the ground. You struggle beneath him but he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear.)

DAMIAN: "No, it was the most real thing I've known."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Wind whirls as you scream and hurl your fans in his direction. The blades spin through the air, nearly striking him, but he dodges with a series of agile flips. Laughing haughtily, you reach for your dagger in your belt.) L.O.U: "What do you desire, Habibi?"

(You advance on him, your steps swift and deliberate, knives dancing between your fingers. You hear a thud as Damian lands back on his feet with a grunt.) DAMIAN: "You. Only you."

(You scoff and fling another fan at him. He sidesteps and deflects it with his katana, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp hiss. Undeterred, you rush forward, using your heightened senses to anticipate his next move. Your fan blades clash against his katana in a shower of sparks.) L.O.U: "Then come and claim me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You sit on a stone bench in the garden of his new home. Wayne Manor, he had said. The night air was cool against your skin. Footsteps echo as Damian approaches, his katana sheathed at his side. He sits beside you, his gaze filled with longing.)

DAMIAN: "I dreamt of you every night."

(You scoff and trace the edge of your fan, the blades cool under your fingers.)

L.O.U: "Did you dream of my pain as well?"

(Damian’s expression turns into anguish, his hand reaching out to cover yours. A thumb moves to caress the metal band on your finger.)

DAMIAN: "Yes, and it’s unbearable."

 ༻⊰───⋅

ive been playing this damn game and mk1 for dddays

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?

[seungkw1]

white t-shirt — csc

💿🎧 white t-shirt - jonghyun 🎶🤍

♡ pairing: bf!seungcheol x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: 2.3k ♡ warnings: dom!cheol, sub!reader, size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), nipple play, creampie, dacryphilia, sexting, brief wrist pinning (f. receiving), gendered petnames (good girl, babygirl) ♡ a/n: i went insane no fewer than 15 times while writing this. hope u enjoy <3

1:32am

You didn't mean to rile up your boyfriend when you sent him that picture. 

It was late at night. You should've been asleep already, but the bed felt empty without him. Seungcheol had only been gone for a few days, off on a trip with the boys, but you missed him. Normally, you spend your nights trying to escape from his immense body heat - an impossible task, as he insists on clinging onto you, wrapping his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him as he drifts off to sleep. But you're having a hard time sleeping without his touch. 

It's only one more night, you remind yourself. He'll be back tomorrow. But it isn't helping. 

So in his absence, you do the next best thing you can: put on one of his t-shirts. 

The shirt is thin, a simple plain white tee, buttery soft, and most importantly - it feels like him. You plop back into bed, cozying up under the sheets, ready to sleep. However, his scent against your skin is arousing, and you find yourself longing for him even more. Your hand leisurely slips downward, resting between your inner thighs. The coolness of your skin contrasts with the heat radiating from between your legs. You try to resist, but your fingertips drift toward your core. They arrive at the delicate fabric of your underwear, just barely grazing over your clothed slit. You inhale sharply - you knew you were wet, but the sticky spot that has formed reveals just how fucking much you need him right now. Your middle finger ever so slightly presses against your clit, your other hand moving to your breasts, lightly pinching your hardening nipples through your borrowed shirt. You let out a quiet whimper. As turned on as you are, you'd love to get yourself off, but you don't want to do it yourself. You want Seungcheol here, touching you, worshiping your body with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. You feel your cunt throb at the mere thought of him. 

You sigh. Rolling over, you reach to grab your phone. You didn't want to bother him too much while he was with his friends, but your neediness is winning right now. 

You open up your messages. You click the top thread, labeled “Cheollie ❤️”, and open up the selfie camera. It's dark, but the moonlight seeping through the curtains illuminates you just enough. You position the phone above you, placing your body in full view. Your nipples poke through the thin, sheer fabric, showing off your tits nicely. You lift the shirt up slightly, revealing your tummy, but also displaying the visible wet spot spreading on your panties. Perfect. 

The screen flashes as you hit the shutter button. You type out a quick message.

missing you babe 😘

You hit send. You don't even know if he's even awake at this point, but almost immediately the typing bubble pops up. He types for a good minute, then the typing stops. But no message. You wait, staring at the screen, another minute passing before he starts typing again. Finally, a response. 

you can't just send me a picture like that out of nowhere. look what you've done.

His message is followed by a slightly blurry photo: him, in the bathroom mirror, pants hastily unbuttoned and boxers shoved aside, his thick cock fully erect. 

Another message follows. 

we were in the middle of a game. i had to run off and hide because of you. 

You grin, pleased with yourself. You wanted to tease your boyfriend, make him excited to come home to you. Instead, you've made him incredibly horny - and you want to see just how far you can push him. 

i take it you like the pic then? ;)

brat. i saw how wet you are. you need me that bad babygirl? so desperate for my cock that you can't even wait til i'm home tomorrow?

i need you babe, i wanna cum so bad 

don’t you dare, love. wait for me. 

i’ll be waiting ❤️

good. no touching yourself. only i’m allowed to make you cum.

You say goodnight, then and roll over - but you're certainly not sleepy now. Your mind wanders, thinking of your boyfriend, fantasizing about how good he's going to fuck you tomorrow. 

You pull up your phone one last time to check the time, calculating the hours until he’ll be back - far too many. 

It's going to be a long night. 

—

3:34pm

Your eyes are glued to the little gray circle with a C on it as it gets closer and closer to your apartment on the map. Cheol is almost home. 

Thank fuck. If you have to wait any longer, you’re simply going to explode. 

You reread the text he sent you earlier in the day:

omw home baby, i'll be there in a couple hours. wait in bed for me, wear the same thing as last night.

So here you are, laying on the bed, in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear, which you can already feel getting wet again. You've been obedient, ignoring every urge in your body to touch yourself - but that's only made you even hornier. 

Finally, you hear the jingle of keys as the front door unlocks. You hear your boyfriend enter, taking off his shoes and setting down his things. Then - footsteps, growing louder as he approaches the bedroom. He slowly pushes the slightly-ajar door, standing in the doorway and taking in the sight of you, nearly naked, waiting for him in bed - just like he told you to. He gazes down at you, practically licking his lips, his eyes brimming with desire. You give him your best doe eyes as he saunters toward the bed. 

“Such a good girl for me, doing exactly as I told you,” he praises as he takes your face in one hand, rubbing your cheek gently. You say nothing, but tug at his arms, trying to pull him onto the bed - but he resists, standing tall as he stares lustfully into your eyes.  

“Oh, but you're still in trouble for what you did to me last night.”

You bite your lip as you grin, beaming at how much you managed to provoke him with only a single suggestive photo. Before he can stop you, you slip your hand onto the thick bulge in his sweatpants. He groans as you stroke his cock through his clothes; he lets you do so a few more times, savoring the sensation, before grabbing you by the wrist - pinning you to the bed as he climbs on top of you. He interlaces his fingers with yours as he holds you down, locking lips with you as he kisses you with aching necessity. His soft, plush lips tug at yours as he places his weight on you, pressing his hardened cock into your core. You cry out as his erection rubs gently against your clit, giving you the stimulation you've been craving. 

“Cheol,” you moan under your breath. “Missed you so much.”

He kisses your neck, humming in your ear. “I know, baby.”

His lips trail down your neck, sucking tenderly at your skin, until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in each hand, squeezing them as his thumbs repeatedly brush against your perked nipples. He positions his mouth right above one of them - you feel the warmth of his breath before he latches on, sucking gently on the bud through the thin t-shirt. You moan softly as his tongue creates a wet spot upon the fabric, making your nipple even more visible. He rubs the first nipple again as his mouth moves to your other boob, sucking more intensely as you begin to wriggle underneath him. He takes his time, going back and forth between each bud. 

“Cheollie,” you whine, “gonna cum already if you keep doing that.”

His mouth pops as he unlatches, glancing up at you amorously and giving you a sly grin. You are putty in his hands at the slightest touch - and it turns him on so badly. 

He tugs at the shirt - you lift your body off the bed, allowing him to pull it off of you. Throwing it aside hastily, he returns to your now-bare tits, kissing and licking them some more before his lips continue down your body, planting deep kisses on your stomach. He arrives at your cunt, situating himself comfortably between your legs, ready to devour you. His tongue licks a fat stripe over the growing wet spot on your underwear, the lightest of touch causing your back to arch slightly. He sucks on your clit through the fabric a few times before he grabs your underwear, pulling them off of you hastily, your soaked cunt now exposed and ready for him to eat.

He wraps his arms around your thighs as his tongue meets your pussy, licking up and down your folds. You whimper as he swirls around your clit, kissing and softly sucking on the sensitive bud. He slips his tongue into your cunt, pushing its way into your hole - his nose pressing deliciously against your clit as he tastes all of you, the vibrations from his moans making you see stars. You place your hand on his head, running your fingers through his hair as he goes down on you, your grasp growing stronger the more intensely his tongue works against your cunt. As you pull his hair he begins to grind into the mattress, needing relief from how painfully hard he’s become. He worships your pussy, eating you out as if it was his last meal on earth, savoring every drop of your juices as you writhe under him, overwhelming pleasure pulsing through your entire body. 

“Cheollie, ‘m gonna cum.”

He removes his face from your cunt, taunting you with his lips hovering just above your clit. You lift your hips, trying to put your pussy back in his mouth, but instead he slips two fingers into you. You cry out as he curls his fingertips upward, reaching your g-spot with ease. He keeps pressing the sweet spot as he slides in and out of you, his thick fingers stretching you out as he fucks you.

Not as much as his cock is going to stretch you out, your subconscious reminds you. 

“Please,” you whine, looking down at him, “need your mouth on me.”

He glances up at you, his big brown eyes meeting yours, drunk with lust. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please baby.”

“Please what?”

“Please make me cum.”

He smirks at the sight of you, tears welling in your eyes as you plead desperately for his touch. 

“My baby’s so pretty like this,” he coos, his bottom lip brushing lightly against your pulsating bud. 

You yelp as he dives back into you, his mouth latching onto your clit as his hand increases its pace, his other hand pressing against your tummy. Any remaining thoughts in your head vanish - your mind overtaken by pleasure, overtaken by him. You scream his name out as the white-hot sensation in your stomach builds, your body starting to tremble as your orgasm takes over. Seungcheol continues sucking your throbbing bud as you cum on his fingers, shaking from the powerful rush of dopamine exploding through your body. You’ve never cum this fucking hard in your life. 

You haven’t even caught your breath by the time he crawls up on top of you, his cock lined up with your entrance. You moan as he slides the head inside, your drenched walls stretching around his size. He slowly begins to thrust into you, filling you up, your pussy taking his entire length with each stroke. His body presses against yours as he buries his head into your neck, his cock pumping into you, fucking you deeper with each stroke. He groans as you tighten around him, his voice low and gravelly in your ear as his orgasm draws nearer.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, “pussy so perfect for me, fuuuck…”

Tears stream down the side of your face as you take his cock. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him - sending him over the edge.

“Please,” you beg, “cum inside me."

“Oh god,” he moans, his body beginning to tremble as he bucks his hips into you. “I’m cumming baby…”

His cock throbs in your cunt as he releases. You whimper as he fills your pussy up, his hot ropes shooting up into you. He slows his pace, coming to a stop as he comes down, his still-twitching cock resting inside you. His lips tenderly suck at the delicate skin on your neck as you wrap your arms around his broad torso, squeezing his body into yours as tightly as you can. Eventually, he lifts his head, his face meeting yours with a kiss on the lips. He gazes at you, enamored. You lay there, breathing deeply together as you recover from your highs.

Seungcheol strokes your hair softly. “God I missed you.”

“Don't leave me ever again,” you pout playfully. 

“I can’t,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not if you’re gonna send me pictures like that. I nearly came in my pants.”

You grin lazily at him, head still spinning from your orgasm. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

Cheol kisses you again, cradling your face in his hand. He grabs onto you as he rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You feel his cum dripping out of you, spilling onto his still-erect cock. He grabs you by the hips, pulling you toward his face. 

“C’mere,” he instructs, licking his lips at the sight of you about to straddle his face. “I'm not done with you yet.”

—

[notmuchtoconceal]

bro, stop. people don't study ideas as interrelated concepts with applicability to lived experience which come to collectively compose templates for etching out your own map of reality, the more you come to see in the intersections and overlaps -- the tantalizing ways contradictions arise solely out of misframings, composing egoic traps -- finer gradients leading you to truths more exquisite and refined.

nah, man.

ideas are largely shibboleths one many internalize and perform with the most fiery piety to cement their place in the in-group. ideas are simply a means for men to escape, not even into thought -- as thought engages with ambiguity, and ideas are tangible suppositions supposed as a consequence of thought, and anyone following a train of thought is not a leader, but a noun the truth of which you can conjugate in your head ... thought being the forging of one's own path, while engaging with an idea remains simply taking a pleasant hike through the well-trodden pathways of another man's country, which once you have accepted by following the trail well, it will be stamped in the mind like on the back of the hand, you having listened so well -- but rather (you understanding now, having been such a good follower who hit the button) directly into action, bypassing thought to launch into the sheer fervor of belonging and acceptance.

when you understand how few people possesses self-concept and so allow their self to be possessed by concepts, you can come to see how many people will simply see themselves as a collection of identifications, things to repeat aloud and hypnotically to potential other members of their various in-groups. you understanding well, in america there being no culture but the work culture, of which the political and meme culture are secondary causes (you all being labor drones for reptiles, regardless of how little you make or don't) you can see the tragedy of mass suppression of consciousness where independent conclusions are not allowed to be drawn, simply for there is no time, no resource, and anyway what's the point? it's all affectation, beauty being class signifiers which arise from wealth. why make yourself a target? always short of hand, you will be reduced to shorthand. the people around you will parrot what can only inevitably be their failings, and you will accept them as the norm. everyone wants to see exceptional people, but only on television or behind a podium, never seated next to them in a park or cafeteria.

wouldn't it be fun to torture them simply by being alive and being yourself? wouldn't it be fun to shine bright next to them simply so their dim eyes ache, so well-adjusted to living in darkness? wouldn't it be nice to see the bacteria scrubbed clean with a flash of those pearly whites, camera flashes ringing brighter than the summer sun? how most certainty excellent would it be to let them know you know they're cowards and liars and there's not a thing they can do because you can outplay them while you speak the truth, they being cellular processes layered down low, no different from bacteriophages always eating shit.

it's okay that people choose to be worse than you. if you being alive irritates dead things, well who's going to dig their holes for them? they want to be given a proper burial deep down. all this rotting in the open air and being picked at by vultures? it's nice for a cozy day on a tibetan mountainside, but this is a costco parking lot.

[goldenempyrean]

Hey there, I have a specific Nat request! Natasha and the reader both come down with a nasty case of the flu but are determined to join the rest of the team on a mission. However, Tony, known for his germaphobia, firmly refuses and quarantines them in their rooms for their own good. Left alone in the compound, Natasha and the reader care for each other and grow closer as they bond over their shared illness. When the team returns, they find Natasha and the reader fast asleep together on the sofa, having found comfort in each other's company during their time of need.

Stuck With Me

〚 Notes - I feel like I haven't written Nat in ages, I was meant to post this ages but never finished! Hopefully you enjoy :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You and Nat both get sick and can't go on a mission with the team. At least you can keep each other company 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2300 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The team was buzzing with excitement as they prepared for the upcoming mission, the air thick with anticipation and purpose. Everyone was in high spirits, except for yourself and Natasha, who were huddled together in the corner of the briefing room, looking utterly miserable. 

A couple of days ago, the whole of the Avengers had been made to be some PR, and as such you and the rest of the team had spent the day interacting with the public. Everything had seemed fine at the time. Oh how that’d change. 

That morning, you had blinked slowly as you woke up and instantly regretted it. The first thing you registered was pressure, deep throbbing pressure nestled behind your sinuses snd temples. You rubbed your eyes and groaned quietly. This couldn’t be good. 

Beside you, Natasha stirred, you could hear her groan too followed by a deep, rough cough as she pushed herself to sit upright. She cleared her throat and looked down to you, her expression noticeably softening when she took in your flushed features. 

“You too?” She asked quietly, you could tell from her voice she wasn’t feeling well. Her tone was quieter, more reserved. Not to mention the thick congestion which blurred her words. 

You shivered and shuffled up to her, through the thin fabric of her shirt it was hard to miss how warm she felt and you let your head rest against her, “You’re warm.” You mumbled, pushing the back of your sleeve against your nose as you felt it run a little. 

"I think we caught something," Nat grumbled, her voice coming out raspy and sore. 

"No kidding," You mumbled hoarsely in agreement, “But from where?” 

She thought for a moment, eyes narrowing. "PR day. All those handshakes, the photos... people everywhere." She scrunched up her nose before she stifled a sneeze against the back of her hand,  "Did you get your flu jab?” She sniffled, the question popping into her mind. She’d been meaning to get hers but life was just busy and she hadn’t gotten round to it yet. 

Your eyes widened and you gave her a knowing look, “Oh shit.” 

“Oh shit indeed.” 

** 

If only this hadn’t happened today. Today, yourself, Nat and the rest of the avengers were meant to be setting off on a mission to Wakanda to assist in the ongoing vibranium crisis. It was to be an all hands on deck affair, every last pair of hands needed. 

So instead of curling in bed where you should’ve been, the two of you decided it would be better to drag yourselves down to the meeting room and sit through debriefing like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

You honestly don’t know how you’d thought that you’d somehow get away unnoticed. It was painfully obvious something was wrong. Natasha was as white as a ghost and couldn’t go more than a few minutes before giving into a liquid sniffle, all just to keep her nose from running. Just beside her, you were shivering, visibly and helplessly, all while you couldn’t stop beads of sweat from forming on your forehead.  

“Oh no, absolutely not.” Tony had almost yelped when he entered the room and caught sight of the pair of you, “These two are absolutely not coming anywhere near this mission.” 

You groaned inwardly. Of course, Tony would be the first to notice. He had an uncanny ability to pick up on things he didn’t like - germs being at the top of that list. 

Natasha didn’t haste to shoot him a glare, usually in any other circumstance this would’ve been enough to make him back off but the effect was ruined when her breath hitched and she immediately curled into her hoodie with a series of damp sneezes. 

Tony visibly flinched, his hand already reaching for a sanitiser bottle he seemed to have materialized out of thin air. He pointed toward the door. "Out. You two are quarantined," He decided firmly in a tone that read there was no room for argument. "There's no way I'm letting you infect the rest of us, especially me.” 

Steve and the others had arrived by this point and were murmuring agreement. Somewhere in between Steve trying to rationalise with an ever, stubborn Natasha and Tony shrieking about infection, Bruce had ran down to medical and grabbed a first aid kit. 

When he returned, he kneeled down and pulled out a thermometer from the box. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” He reached forward to take her temperature but she held a hand out to stop him from getting closer. 

“Wait.. I need to-“ Her eyes fluttered shut as she quickly turned to the side, burying her face into the crook of her elbow just as a series of harsh sneezes burst out of her, “Hh'kshhh! Hih'tshh! Heh’ktsch!" 

“Bless you.” You murmured softly. You tried to close your eyes to get some relief from the throbbing in your temples but you jumped a little at the feeling of a thermometer being rolled over your forehead. You had forgotten that Stark had insisted on buying the fancy kind. 

The device beeped its verdict and Bruce sighed, shaking his head in disapproval as he stood back up, “Nat 38.2, Y/N 38.5. In no way shape or form are either of you up for this. You’re both at serious risk of dehydration. You need to rest.”  

“Quarantine. Both of you.” Tony repeated though he’d noticeably taken a few large strides backwards. He pointed towards the door wrinkling his nose in disgust before looking up at the ceiling, “FRIDAY, disinfect the room after they leave. Use the strong stuff.” He exaggerated a shudder as Nat fell into a particularly rough coughing fit. 

“Scratch that, disinfect everything they’ve touched. I want this contained.” 

The system announced a “Yes, sir.” and you couldn’t help but groan in defeat. There was no way the two of you would be able to get out of the now and you shivered once more as you dragged yourself up out of the chair you’d being huddled in, pulling up Natasha to stand up next to you. 

Natasha looked like she wanted to argue, but the effort of coughing left her too exhausted to put up much of a fight. Her posture sagged slightly as she stood, clearly feeling every bit as lousy as you did. You gently nudged her, signaling it was time to go, and she gave a reluctant nod. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of sitting out on such an important mission, but it was becoming increasingly clear there was no way around it. 

You caught Nat by the arm gently as she wobbled on her feet. Before the pair of you left, she shot Tony one more withering glare, though it had less of its usual sting. She stifled another sneeze into her elbow, her breath shaking as she sniffled miserably. Tony, ever the kind, sympathetic gentleman of course, took another step back, waving his hand in the air like he could physically push the germs away from himself 

“What are we meant to do now.” You mumbled after you’d left the room. When the others left you’d have the whole compound to yourself, usually in any other scenario the two of you would make good use of the alone time but there was no way either of you for feeling up for that. 

"I don't know," Natasha rasped, her voice was sounding a little worse from coughing, "Sleep, I guess." She sniffed again, her nose still red from the constant sneezing and rubbing. “Or we could stage a jailbreak. Sneak onto a jet before they leave.” 

You chuckled quietly then coughed and chuckled again, “Sorry love but if you think we’re gonna be able to sneak past them while coughing up a lung then you’re more feverish than we thought.” You reached out to rub her back when she started coughing again, “Besides I don’t think you’re up to flying, do you?” 

“Maybe not.” She rasped after catching her breath. The pair of you were just about to turn to make your way to your bedroom when you had a different idea. 

“How about we grab some blankets and cuddle up in one of the living rooms, grab some supplies and camp in there? That way we can watch some movies or something if you’re feeling up to it.” 

Natasha gave you a tired but grateful smile, her green eyes heavy with fatigue. "That... doesn't sound half bad," she admitted in a hoarse whisper, sniffling again as she rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. "But if we're doing this I wanna rewatch the Star Wars movies.” 

You shot her a knowing grin, “My, my. Natasha Romanoff, the great Black Widow is a secret nerd. Who would’ve guessed?” That earned you a small nudge in reply and on the way, the two of you headed to a storage closet to grab  

as many blankets as you could carry without falling over whilst Nat grabbed a large box of tissues and headed off to get some medicine. 

You’d just settled down on the sofa of the common room when Nat shuffled in holding a bundle of things in her arms. Tissues, cough medicine, a thermometer, two hot water bottles and your matching water bottles.  

Originally, you had seen them being sold in a little shop whilst you were out one day. A clear, hard plastic bottle but with a little cartoon of the Black Widow on it. You’d bought it instantly and it had become the main bottle you’d use.  

Of course Natasha had blushed with embarrassment the first time she’d seen it but she couldn’t deny the action was adorable. So the next time she went out, she had gone out of her way to buy a matching bottle. This time one with a little cartoon of you in your fighting outfit. 

She set the supplies down on the coffee table in front of you before flopping down on the sofa next to you, immediately she regretted letting go of her hot water bottle and grabbed it, cradling it for a moment as she got warm before tucking it under her hoodie. 

“You need anything else?” She shook her head and you cleared your throat before reaching to pick up the remote to start the first movie before handing it to her as you remembered that you had no idea which order the movies went in. 

The corner of her mouth quirked a little as a smile played on her lips, “Episode IV, no prequels first.” She began to explain why it was so important even though it went right over your head anyway, “We watch in release order, we’re not heathens.” 

You nodded along, pretending to understand the logic of watching the Star Wars movies in release order, though to be honest, most of the reasoning had gone straight over your foggy, headache-riddled brain. She rambled on for a little, and you occasionally nodded to signify you were still listening until she eventually pressed play, and the familiar fanfare and iconic text crawl started to roll up the screen.  

For a moment, you both just sat there, quietly watching, the only sounds in the room the hum of the TV and the occasional sniffle from Nat. Her head slowly started to lean onto your shoulder, and without even thinking, you shifted slightly to let her rest more comfortably. The warmth from her hot water bottle radiated through her hoodie and into your side, a comforting presence. 

"You okay?" You murmured softly, glancing down at her. She looked exhausted, her eyes half-lidded as they flickered between the screen and you. 

"Mm-hmm," She mumbled, though her voice was so thick with congestion it came out as more of a hum. She snuggled in closer, her hand absentmindedly toying with the sleeve of your shirt. "This is perfect," She whispered hoarsely, her body sagging into yours with that telltale heaviness of someone about to drift off. She was perfectly still for a few minutes until you felt her chest rising suddenly as she sat up quickly and rubbed at her nose, “F-fuck I-” She tried to warn, luckily you knew what she needed but you still barely had time to pass her the tissues before she set off into a flurry of sneezes. 

“Bless you,” You replied softly after each one, watching as she blew her nose and gave you an apologetic look afterwards which made you respond with a gentle kiss to her forehead, “You can’t help it love, don’t worry.” 

The rest of the week was spent the same way, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa together. You’d hold her close when she was shivering and she’d periodically swap out a cloth to place on your forehead. Napping had become the biggest part of the day, the two of you sleeping with arms wrapped around each other. It had been during one of these naps when the team had finally arrived home. Clint had come clambering in, looking to kick back and watch some trashy TV after days of concentration but what he was met with instead was a huddle of blankets and two sniffly girlfriends tucked up in each other's arms. 

He couldn’t resist snapping a quick photo, one which he totally wouldn’t use for blackmail in the future. He smiled softly as he saw how relaxed the both of you looked and quietly tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly and writing a note not to enter. There was no point waking the pair of you up, not when you both looked so peaceful. He’d simply wait to tease the pair of you when you were feeling better. 

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[genericpuff]

The Elephant in the Room - Queer Erasure and Westernization in Lore Olympus (and all its horrid stepchildren)

This is one people have been asking me for a while now, and I've been waiting for the right inspiration to hit, as is required for my ADHD hyperfixation-fueled rants. After recently watching a video that did an objective review of Cait Corrain's Crown of Starlight, I felt now was the time, because Crown of Starlight effectively proves exactly what Lore Olympus - and other Greek myth interpretations like it - has issues with.

And I want to preface this post with one question - why do we keep getting these Greek myth adaptations written by queer women that still wind up perpetuating toxic heteronormative culture?

Buckle up, because this one's HEFTY.

In that aforementioned review of A Crown of Starlight, there were a lot of points that came up about how Cait wrote the female protagonist - Ariadne, wife of Dionysus - where I immediately stopped and went, "Wait, this sounds awfully familiar."

It should be mentioned briefly for anyone who's unaware - Cait Corrain is an author who was recently (and still) under fire for using sock puppet accounts on GoodReads to intentionally sabotage the ratings of other debut authors, many of whom were her own peers or from the same publishing imprint as her (Del Rey), and most of whom were POC. I mentioned in that previous essay that I just linked that Cait Corrain is a fan of Lore Olympus and decided to give it 5 star ratings from these alt accounts, not just de-legitimizing the reputation of the books she bombed, but also the ones that she praised (including her own book, because of course she had to leave an obvious calling card LMAO). I felt it necessary to tie Cait into my discussion of white feminism in LO and its fanbase because people like Cait are exactly who we're talking about when we dissect the intent and consequences of LO's writing - much of its brand of "feminism" seems to only be catered to a specific kind of woman (i.e. white women who fetishize queer people/relationships) and seem to encourage/embrace violence towards women if those women aren't "behaving correctly" or just aren't fortunate enough to be white and rich - and so Cait choosing to give Lore Olympus 5 stars in her hate-raiding and even have it visibly in the background of her headshot photos was... not exactly disproving my argument that these are the types of people LO caters to and encourages, to say the least.

But then I watched Read with Rachel's "Did It Deserve 1 Star" review of Crown of Starlight and it cemented my assumptions and concerns regarding Cait's intentions and influences even more.

As a brief tangent, I've read A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Claire. It very obviously is using Lore Olympus as its blueprints, but it's not super obvious that if you didn't read Lore Olympus or weren't aware of it, you probably wouldn't notice. It's still not a great book on its own, it's riddled with writing problems, but at least it can call itself its own thing to some degree.

Crown of Starlight is just blatant Lore Olympus fanfiction pretending to be original, even down to its marketing (which I'll get to shortly) but swapping out Hades and Persephone with Dionysus and Ariadne, and setting the entire story in space. Why is it in space? There doesn't seem to be any actual necessary reason for this, it just is, go with it. I'd be willing to accept this because changing up the setting of pre-existing stories can be fun (god knows I loved the premise enough of Lore Olympus being a modern day Greek myth retelling that I had to go and make my own version of it that's still in that modern setting) but as RWR says in her review:

"... we're told that it's the 'island' of Crete, but then we talk about commbands, airlocks, [holo-shields] and it wasn't really written in a way that I felt meshed 'Greek retelling' and 'sci-fi' in a cohesive way."

Needless to say, Crown of Starlight unsurprisingly suffers from the same problems Lore Olympus does, where it will try to "subvert" the original myths by changing their setting and characters and then doing absolutely nothing interesting with them to justify those changes.

To really drive my point home that Crown of Starlight is undoubtedly Lore Olympus fanfiction, Lore Olympus was literally used as a comparison point in Crown of Starlight's marketing which is a fair tactic to use to advertise to a specific niche or demographic, and while some have argued that Cait isn't technically the one to come up with that marketing jargon, it's made much more clear that she used that comparison herself when writing and pitching the book because it is quite literally just Lore Olympus with a different couple in space, right down to the main female protagonist being part of a purity cult. And of course it wouldn't be a bad Wattpad romance if it didn't have our main female protagonist Ariadne talking about how inconvenient her MASSIVE BREASTS are and of COURSE Ariadne is a poor innocent uwu babygirl who needs a man to come in and rescue her from the evil purity cult and of COURSE it hints at them eventually having raunchy sex just for it to wind up being milquetoast bondage and of COURSE it all just winds up taking traditionally queer characters and stories and turning them into this sanitized Disney-esque plotline where the boy and girl were always meant to be together and nothing else matters except their love-

And that, at its core, really just screams "this is bad LO fanfiction". From the stylization of the book's writing which never outgrew its "adorkable fanfiction writing" phase-

"Realizing that I'm being gaslit by my entire world doesn't make it easier to deal with, but hey, at least I still have some part of my soul!" - an excerpt from Crown of Starlight quoted from RWR's review timestamp 13:03

-to the "creative" choices made to turn Ariadne into a chastity cult girl whose resolution is obviously going to be to have what's implied to be dirty raunchy sex just for it to be like... the most tame level one bondage stuff;

-to the classic "she breasted boobily down the stairs" focus on Ariadne's body and breasts and sex appeal that's being kept in check by that pesky purity club.

And that's really disappointing because I had seen people say, "Yeah, Cait did an awful thing and deserves to be removed from her publishing schedule, but it's a shame that that book was written by Cait because it's actually a really good book!" because now it's just making me even more sus of people's Greek myth adaption recommendations (I'm still mad at BookTok for convincing me that A Touch of Darkness was worth reading). All I could think while listening to some of the excerpts quoted by RWR was that if I didn't know about Cait Corrain and read Crown of Starlight blind, I'd undoubtedly assume it was being written by a heterocis guy... but it's in fact being written by a queer woman.

And this is where I segue into talking about the root of this problem, where the calls are really coming from - Lore Olympus and its erasure of queer identities and relationships, despite also being written by a queer woman who should know better.

I could think of no better character to help carry this essay than Eros.

Unlike many of the characters in LO that Rachel has managed to straightwash by changing their motives entirely or straight up changing their identity from the source material (ex. Zeus, Apollo, Crocus who was turned into a flower nymph, Dionysus and Achilles because they're both literally babies, the list goes on), Eros has largely remained the same on paper who had zero reason to not be queer within the story.

Eros is still the god of love in this, he's still a guy and presumed to be an adult, but we NEVER see or explore him having relationships with anyone other than Psyche, aside from a brief mention of organizing orgies in the beginning that's used as a quick joke and then promptly never mentioned again.

Just like with Crown of Starlight and A Touch of Darkness and all these other "dark romance" stories, it's that brand of "pretends to be sexually liberating but isn't actually" writing, where they'll briefly mention orgies or sex-related things and then beat around the bush or avoid involving them entirely like a kid at Sunday school who doesn't want to say the word "penis".

(fr out of all the corny and awful slang for genitals I've seen used in stories like this, "a certain part of my anatomy" is definitely one of the most boring and stupid, like for god's sakes Hades you're both adults and at the beginning of this comic you thought she wanted to bang in the kitchen, why are you suddenly talking like a 7 year old boy LOL)

All that aside, while Eros might still be hinted at being queer and sex-positive, it's only as vaguely as possible so that the story can quickly move on to focus on him and Psyche or, better yet, Hades and Persephone. When Eros isn't deadset on finding Psyche, he's being the gay best friend for Persephone, who he has NO right having a friendship with when he introduced himself by intentionally getting her as drunk as possible with the intent of dumping her in Hades' car as per his mom's command. It's brushed off later as "well Aphrodite maaade him do it, for Psycheee!" but Eros still agreed to potentially put Persephone in danger over a relationship that had NOTHING to do with her and was also mostly his fault in its fallout (which Artemis calls him out for, but of course, like all the other times characters have called out the actual issues in the story they're inhabiting, they get brushed aside so that Persephone can talk about Hades):

Now, the Eros and Psyche plotline is one I've talked about before here and not the focus of this essay so I'll keep this tangent brief, but it's absolutely wild to me that Rachel took a story about a woman going to the ends of the earth to prove her love for someone whose trust she broke (a common theme in a lot of Greek myth stories, such as the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice) and turned it into... woman of color gets turned into a nymph slave for Aphrodite to 'test' Eros, a test that isn't clear at all in what it's trying to achieve, and wait hold up, didn't Eros actually fail that test by kissing Ampelus while completely unaware that it was Psyche-

This is just that episode of Family Guy where Peter justifies emotionally cheating and eventually physically cheating on Lois because "well you were the phone sex lady the whole time so no harm done!", isn't it? (×﹏×)

Anyways. It's all very convenient that the comic will hint at queer rep just to either have it be a constant question of whether or not they're actually queer (ex. Morpheus) OR to have it be promptly swept under the rug to make way for other characters/plot points. It's like when mongie tried to be "inclusive" by writing a stereotypical vaguely Asian character with no specific ethnicity just to get angry at her fanbase for calling her out on this that you can't just call a vaguely Asian character "representation" of anything (because Asia is MASSIVE and covers so many different ethnicities and languages and cultures).

Eros is only as gay as he needs to be to fill the role of "gay best friend" for Persephone.

Krokos is no longer a male lover of Hermes but a flower nymph created by Persephone because... apparently we can't dare imply that Hermes would be into anyone besides his unrequited childhood love, Persephone.

Achilles is introduced as a baby even though it makes no sense in the comic's own timeline where Odysseus is presumably already a well-known hero in Olympus, so much so that he was invited to the Panathenea.

Apollo is turned into a flat-out rapist who's only concerned with getting Persephone at all costs and when that doesn't work, he tries to get ANOTHER flower nymph (Daphne) who's actually genuinely interested in him (contrary to the original myth, there's that "swap it subversion" Rachel is known for) to cut her hair so she'll resemble Persephone more because we can't have a single plot point not resolve around Persephone.

Despite there being loads of genderbent characters already, Morpheus is supposedly the only one we're supposed to assume is specifically trans and not just a gender-flipped version of a Greek myth character. Why? Not because Rachel stated so explicitly, not because the comic has actually explored her identity as a trans woman, but because the readers just assumed it in good faith and Rachel was clearly fine with taking credit for trans representation that's only there via assumption (and only confirmed via her mods in Discord, which is... not how you establish canon information in your comic, Rachel.)

Hestia and Athena are part of a chastity club, until uh oh how convenient that they're secretly in a relationship with each other even though it further vilifies them and their morals, particularly Hestia who was promptly called out for being a hypocrite for taking Persephone's coat gifted to her from Hades while secretly being in a relationship the whole time. Not only does the Hestia and Athena relationship manage to commit queer erasure - of two gods who are considered icons in the aroace communities - but it also makes the only two lesbians in the story come across as assholes AND ON TOP OF THAT ALSO manages to somehow invalidate queer sex and relationships as being legitimate due to the even deeper implication that breaking their chastity vows "doesn't count" because it's not a male x female relationship. It's the 'ole poophole loophole all over again.

And then there's Artemis, who has MORE REASON THAN EVER TO BE IN THE PLOT but keeps being conveniently ignored. Her finding out about Hestia and Athena doesn't get any more screentime than her going "oh you're in a relationship, okay" , we never see her question the true intentions of TGOEM or what it means to her, we never see her have any opportunity to carve out her identity beyond just being Apollo's twin sister (it tries to at times, but then immediately goes nowhere with it, amounting to just poetic word salad), and she really just comes across as what a lot of people assume aroace people to be - alone and standoffish, because obviously someone who's nice and a good person would be in a relationship, there has to be a reason they don't want to have sex or fall in love, and that reason obviously has to be that they just hate everyone and want to be alone forever (￢_￢;) Then again, like many of the queer characters in LO, I don't know if I can definitively call her aroace because it's kept as vague as possible, and - going by Rachel's answers to these questions way back in her Tumblr era - apparently people can't be gay and ace at the same time-

There are undoubtedly loads more examples that I could cover here but that goes for practically any essay I write about LO - the more you peel it apart, the more you start unearthing some really questionable and frankly mean-spirited stuff. Queer people feel largely ignored in LO, alongside many of its derivative offspring such as A Touch of Darkness and Crown of Starlight, and it really speaks to how so many people - queer women, no less - have somehow managed to bastardize and sanitize what were traditionally very queer stories with queer characters. It's like these people think "olden times" and can only get as far as "women were slaves and men were rich assholes". Like, yeah, okay, that was the case for many cultures, but not all of them, and for some of them it wasn't as clear cut as that, many had misogynist power struggles in them while also still celebrating women and queer people in their own way. Greek myth is full of stories of women being forced into marriage or being made the victims of assault, but many of them are supportive of women and their struggles, unlike works like LO that somehow manage to be less feminist and sympathetic to women and queer people than these works from thousands of years ago.

This is another topic that's surely meant for another post, but it really speaks not only to the straightwashing and whitewashing of Greek myth, but also the Westernizing of it. That's not to say Rachel Smythe and Cait Corrain and Scarlett St. Claire are intentionally trying to whitewash another culture's works here, but if you're raised predominantly on Western media, you're undoubtedly going to absentmindedly adopt ideas about society that are primarily molded around Western beliefs .

And this is apparent in LO, while Rachel is from New Zealand, you can tell she grew up on a lot of Western media and its influences are sorely showing through LO's worldbuilding, character designs, and narrative choices. That "modern setting" that I mentioned before is much less Greek and a lot more adjacent to The Kardashians which lends to the theories that most of the media that Rachel consumes is American. Rather than actually going to the effort of doing her research on Greek culture, she seems to just prefer defaulting to the easiest assumption of how modern society is across the board - a generic Los Angeles clone with big glass skyscrapers and pavement walkways. She rarely ever draws food or clothing from those time periods; despite this story being about gods she's spent so little time on the people who passed on the stories about those gods, the mortals, and the gods themselves rarely feel like gods, rather just like Hollywood celebrities covered in body paint. The clothing feels very generic and uninspired with often very little Greek influence, even though Greek clothing is designed around Mediterranean living which you could do a lot with, to such an egregiously Western degree that Hades and Persephone's wedding was Christian-coded. The food... well, there ISN'T any because as we've seen, like the stereotypical American child, Persephone apparently only wants chicken nuggies and Skittles for dinner, so we never see her eat; and not only do we not see Persephone eat, but Rachel weirdly tries to use Persephone's vegetarianism as some kind of anti-capitalist characterization when much of the Greek diet is predominantly vegetarian. It's NOT HARD or uncommon to be a vegetarian in Greece!

(it looks like they're literally all eating the same thing so IDK what Hera is referring to here, it looks like they're all eating toast and lettuce LMAO)

All that's to say, much of LO - and the books like it that I've gone over here - are written with this idea that every culture - including the one that it's trying to adapt - was subject to the same ideas that Western culture lives by in the modern day - that being a vegetarian is "counterculture" in every culture, that the notion of sexual purity is enforced in the same way it's enforced in the Western education system (cough Christianity cough), that queer or otherwise "unconventional" relationships should stay inside the bedroom and not be seen. As much as Rachel claims she wants to "fight the patriarchy" and "deconstruct purity culture", all she winds up doing is reinforcing it through a Westernized lens, which is, as I've talked about before, very indicative of right-leaning white feminism and what it embraces and promotes - being a "good woman" who follows the rules and willingly becomes part of the system that's oppressing them because that's what "good women" do. Women who are confidant in their sexuality are evil and should be shunned for being "sluts". Women who are in relationships with other women "don't count" as real relationships the same way heteronormative relationships do, and cannot be trusted because they're likely trying to spread an agenda that's designed to brainwash heterocis women. Women should only aim to achieve marriage and their entire personality has to be built around their true love. Women are allowed to be kinky, but only as kinky as roleplaying the exact same gender structures that puts the man in a position to dominate a woman, and it should always and only ever be with her first love who she marries immediately, no one else.

This is exactly what the critics are getting at when they hold LO - and its creator - accountable for the messages it's been sending for five years to its audience of middle aged women and young girls. Having a demographic is fine, if this were just a comic for girls it would be fine, but it becomes a lot more problematic when that demographic is being fed toxic power fantasy stories based on a culture that's being gentrified and sanitized of all its original messaging and characterization right before our eyes. It feels blatantly misinformed from the very beginning in its intention to be a "feminist retelling" of Greek myth, because somehow Lore Olympus manages to be less feminist than these stories drafted and written by men from 2000+ years ago.

I opened this essay with a question: why do we keep getting these Greek myth adaptations written by queer women that still wind up perpetuating toxic heteronormative culture?

I think cases like these really highlight how deep the heteronormative brainwashing from childhood onward goes. That, despite these writers being queer or women, still manage to reinforce the same ideas and tropes and harmful predisposed notions that were designed to be used explicitly against queer people and women. These are things that we can't ever stop challenging, and asking, and truly deconstructing, because it runs deep in many of us who grew up on popular media even as innocent as Disney. Learning about more complex social concepts like sexism and misogyny and queerphobia doesn't automatically absolve us of those very same biases that have been both blatantly and subtly ingrained into us since childhood. All that said, Rachel being bisexual does not mean she's not capable of straightwashing; Cait Corrain being a queer debut author with a POC main character didn't stop them from targeting other POC debut authors at their own imprint; being part of any minority group or identifier does not automatically protect you from perpetuating the cycle that you, too, likely had enforced upon you at some point or another in your life. The fact that these creators and writers are still perpetuating that cycle to begin with is indicative of why it's a cycle at all - it takes work to break on a subconscious level because those cycles are specifically designed to target and hijack the subconscious.

At its worst, do you really think Lore Olympus can claim to be a feminist retelling that's "deconstructing purity culture" when the creator herself admittedly never fully identified or understood sexism until her mid-30's and has the audacity to say her audience is "harsh" on the female characters that she constantly vilifies through her own narrative?

"I feel like female characters in general, people will be a little harsher on them and sometimes way harsher on them, and I used to be like.. before I started writing the story and like making a story I was like yeah, sexism is not that bad, and [now] I was like oh it's bad. It's quite bad [laughs], so like, I don't know, I feel like the female characters in the story don't get so much of a pass. But this isn't consistent across the board, it's not all the time" - Rachel Smythe, in an interview with Girl Wonder Webtoon Podcast

If Lore Olympus truly was just a series meant to be for fun "no thoughts head empty" drama and spice, that would be fine. I've said it time and time before on this blog and I'll say it again: I wouldn't have an issue if Rachel was just writing a story exclusively revolving around heterocis men and women. I'm just frustrated and tired and annoyed that she keeps lying about it, and doubly so that this comic and its creator who claim to be "feminist" have inspired other people in the same headspace to continue to perpetuate that cycle through works that are clearly inspired by LO and never challenged the things LO promoted - violence towards "unconventional" women, violence towards POC, and erasure of queer people. And worst of all, for writers like Cait Corrain, it's more than just writing a really bad book with really bad messaging, it's going so far as intentionally targeting those same groups of people that are regularly vilified in works like LO - people who are just existing, who don't pose a threat to anyone, but had the misfortune of becoming the target of a white woman's insecurity.

I don't know what the answer to this problem is. I don't know what form the solution will come in, if any, to address the ongoing issues with Greek myth adaptions that are being sorely written through an "America as the default" point of view and praised for "rewriting the script of Greek mythology", quite literally cultural appropriation happening live right before our eyes all for the sake of cheap entertainment. Maybe it'll take the failings of works like Crown of Starlight to really get people talking about it. But so long as the roots of these works - such as Lore Olympus - are still being protected and marketed en masse by the same kinds of people who don't see the issue in Americanizing other cultures and their stories, then Lore Olympus and Crown of Starlight will not be the last ones to cause harm to the source material - and the cultures that source material is born from and a part of - they're taking from.

I opened this post with a question, and I'm going to close it with another to really leave it as food for thought. That question comes from another video that I'll link here for you to watch at your convenience that spends even more time diving into and discussing the nature of works like this that have seemingly attempted to "deconstruct" the very dogmas that they still wind up reinforcing all the same.

Does the romance genre have a white supremacy problem?

(yes. yes, it does.)

[vinelark]

oh hey it's wip wednesday 🫡 [cw for biphobia from some NPCs]

It’s an image post; there’s an article linked underneath, but the poster has presumably pulled the pictures from the webpage and dropped them here directly. The first one shows Tim on a curb, clearly outside a hospital—tham General visible in the top of the frame—looking exhausted and calm and wholly uncaring of the fact that he’s being photographed, even though Kon knows there’s no way Tim isn’t aware. Not on the ground, not in his city. Kon notices the cast next, encasing Tim’s whole lower leg. Crutches tucked under his arms. The brief flash of a white wristband below his jacket sleeve. There’s a sleek car idling in the first image, and in the subsequent photos a girl leaps out of the back seat to embrace Tim. She’s turned away from the camera the whole time, but she’s tall and blonde and her lipstick leaves a mark on the side of Tim’s mouth in the last picture. The linked article speculates that Tim Drake must be taking pointers from his foster father when it comes to cycling through flings; the comments seem to agree, along with unsuccessfully trying to guess who the girl is.

damn, talk about a short attention span, the top comment says.

Good for him ig but wow can we get one bi celebrity who’s not a total stereotype in this city? says another.

dr4per: Lol he’s barely a celebrity, people only care bc of the wayne connection.

hc1942: he’s probably not even really gay anyway. bet he was just drunk off his ass last weekend

33lolnotmyrealname: three-beer queer, tale as old as time

PippinWasFramed: Dude, he’s sixteen.

Ovalcaterpillar1403: Everyone’s just using queerness for clout before going straight again and I’m truly sick of it.

bg_04: wow can we get one reddit user who’s not totally biphobic too?

[randomfotos]

Hello everyone, today I'm going to move away from the topic of my blog, to talk about something serious!

I've been on Tumblr since its inception, I've had several accounts, with different content and styles. I currently have two active accounts, both of which are very popular.

I gave this brief context, so that you understand that I have a basis for what I am going to say next.

For years I have noticed a certain discrepancy in the number of notes in certain posts. Over time it became increasingly obvious to understand why… The fact is that posts starring men of color (black, Asian, Latino, indigenous, people from the Middle East, in general, non-white men) receive much less, but much less likes and shares than those carried out by white men.

And look, this isn't about blog popularity and making a post go viral here. It's something bigger and very serious: racism and xenophobia.

And that's a huge general outline. For example: if posts with older men don't receive as many likes, compared to those with young, sexy, muscular black men, they receive much less notification than posts with older white men.

Another example, posts by fat men, do not have much repercussion, but when compared to that of an Asian or indigenous person, the fat white man receives more visibility.

I mentioned these two specific aspects, because in a society developed according to an aesthetic standard, old gay men and fat gay men are routinely placed on the margins of the gay community, simply because they do not meet these aesthetic expectations, but even when a group meets these "aesthetic standards", are belittled, subdued, disrespected and discriminated against, solely because of their skin color and origin.

Racism and xenophobia around the world is something that is clearly present in everyday life. And many people think it is not prejudiced. But even though things are very open on a daily basis, racism and xenophobia act silently, in a very sneaky way.

So, if you stop liking a photo because you didn't find it beautiful or attractive in your eyes, it's ok! Now, if you want for a second, you think about "if it were a white man there, this photo would be more beautiful" or "if it were a white man, I would feel hot for this guy", I'm sorry to inform you that you have the racism and xenophobia rooted in you!

Once again, I repeat. It's not about popularity, number of likes or reblogs. It's something very serious!

It’s not enough to not be racist, you have to be anti-racist! This means that we must monitor ourselves so that we do not have veiled racist and xenophobic attitudes in our attitudes and speech!

P.S.: I'm Brazilian, and English is not my mother tongue. So I ask you to use interpretation to understand what was said in a mature and responsible way. If any word or phrase is wrong or out of context, please let me know!

[3-2-whump]

Wrong Turn

<prev next>

Divine Judgment comes

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , this chapter would not be what it is without you beta-ing for it!

Obligatory Author's Note: So, it's pretty obvious we're nearing the end of Tom's story, but at this point, it's pretty open ended. If you'd like to stop here and imagine he mansplains-manipulates-manslaughters his way outta this trap, then by all means go ahead. Fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, I encourage it, if anything! Just, you know, tag me or let me know in some way. But let's get right to it!

TW/CW: slave whump, intimate whumper, (brief) dehumanization, whumper turned whumpee, kidnapping, leaving off on a cliffhanger

Thomas J Costa, you are a fucking genius, the mob boss thought to himself. This was one of the best two weeks of his and Khaled’s shared life together. Two weeks of coming home to a sparkling clean penthouse, a plate of either half-cooked or slightly scorched food (hey, the boy was trying), and a submissive bedmate made him perversely wonder why he didn’t try this scare tactic sooner.

He checked his watch. It was only half an hour until he’d usually leave for home, but he decided he’d been at work long enough that day. Just as he was about to log off of his desktop, an email of high priority chimed. He opened it, then groaned. That meeting with the stakeholders of White Shore Resort: Miami was tonight, and he’d completely forgot. As much as he’d rather not do it tonight, he did not need to burn this bridge, of all bridges. So, with a reluctant sigh, Thomas put on his coat and shot a text home. He’d left Khaled with the spare cellphone he’d given him when he was in the hospital that one time, a dense brick of a device that could only perform basic call, text, and photo taking tasks, specifically to send him messages like these.

To: Holes Forgot about a meeting I have tonight. Be home late. Wait for me.

With that sent, he tucked his phone into his coat pocket and begrudgingly left.

The boss was a little more than surprised to find his car keyed and his tires slashed. What surprise he did feel was quickly replaced with burning rage as he marched his way to the guard shack and banged on the door. “Nico!”

Michael’s nephew opened the door, brown hair amess and blinking in confusion as if he had just woken up from a nap. “Boss? What’s up, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling his coat around him.

“Don’t even - somebody’s slashed my tires on your watch!” Thomas grabbed Nico by the arm and yanked him along across the parking lot. He practically threw the young guard at the defaced car. “Look at this! Did you see who did this? What the fuck am I even paying you for if you don’t even know who did this?!” he roared.

“Shit man, I-I’m sorry! What can I do to fix this?” Nico asked.

Tom checked his watch again. Despite the meeting being on the other side of the city, and the whole setback with his car, he knew he could still make it. “You,” he decided, “are going to drive me! No arguments, let’s go!”

Nico’s mouth opened and closed mutely like a fish before he threw up his hands in a shrug.

It was a very awkward drive in Nico Clemenza’s cluttered Jeep. Some people kept the interior of their cars spotless, some people treated the interior of their cars like a large storage locker, and it became very clear which one Nico was that evening. Thomas must have counted at least three first-draft essays, one notebook, four pairs of unwashed athletic clothes, and a pair of sneakers back there. At least the weather was cold enough out that they didn’t stink, which was a small mercy of being trapped in such a disgusting car. He wanted to retch, but this was his best and quickest option to get to that meeting on time. Maybe I’ll just make the kid drop me off a couple blocks away, and I can walk there, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Nico himself seemed visibly on edge as he drove stiffly and uncomfortably with the boss in his car. It was enough to make himself feel tense. Thomas sighed. “Look, Nico, bud, I know you don’t necessarily approve of how I handle your dear little friend, but there is no reason why things have to be so tense between us personally,” he said. “I’ve never actually done anything to you, have I? Like, I’ve never physically harmed you or nothing. And I’m on great terms with Bennie and Michael, so why don’t you just relax a bit? I’m not gonna kill you, I swear.”

Nico nervously glanced at him before focusing back on the road. Thomas shook his head. There was an impassible power barrier between himself and some of the younger guys in the organization, one that wasn’t there before he became the boss nearly eight years ago. It made people act all fake and freak out over little things as they forgot that he was just a person, too; like how Nico completely missed the exit they needed to take.

“Hey, wait, the Antechamber Taphouse was back that way,” he reminded him. Nico kept driving, not responding as his eyes remained fixed on an unseen destination. “Nico, hey, Nico!” Tom snapped his fingers in front of the driver’s face, hoping to get his attention. “Nico, you missed it!”

“No I didn’t, because that’s not where we’re going,” Nico relied cryptically.

“Yes, it is, though, I told you we were going there!” He brought this fingers up to Nico’s temple and poked at it. “What’s wrong with you?” Nico did not respond as he pulled off at the next exit and drove them further from Thomas’ intended destination. “Take a left, and another left,” he instructed. They might just be able to make it to the taphouse if they took the detour Thomas knew about.

Nico pulled off at the next exit and ran every red light as he took the exact opposite directions, driving them closer to their unknown destination. The passenger gave up dictating directions once he realized this dumb fuck behind the wheel wasn’t going to listen to him. Whether it was because Nico didn’t know the area and was stubborn enough to spurn all directions, there was not much Thomas could do until they got where they needed to be. With a final grumble, he whipped out his phone and started sorting through emails. Confirmation of reservation, reminder of reservation, junk mail, junk mail, junk –ooh, a user called ‘there-a-Glock-in-my-sock-85’ responded to my Reddit question!

It was only once the car came to a stop and parked that he looked up from his phone. Far from the urban core of his intended destination, he found them parked at the docks, just outside the empty warehouses. ‘Something is wrong’ seemed like the understatement of the moment here as Thomas tried to determine Nico’s true intentions. 

Then, the door to one of the warehouses creaked open. Nico unlocked the doors and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Alright, sir, come with me,” he said.

“Where are we?” he asked, unbuckling his own seatbelt.

Nico did not respond, only silently opening the door of the car as he pivoted his body to get out. The boss finally figured out there was something much larger at play. He thought about the young guard’s sketchy demeanor and their conveniently desolate location before remembering what Nico had said the last day he saw Khaled.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir! He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

His jaw dropped as he made the connection. “Wait a minute, you were the one who put that hit out on me last summer?!” The lack of an answer was all the confirmation the boss needed. “Oh, you little shit!” Thomas grabbed Nico by the shirt collar and yanked him away from the door. He pulled Nico by the back of his hair and slammed his face into the dash board –once, twice, and one more time for good measure before pushing Nico out the open door and crawling into the driver’s seat himself. He was just about to close the door of the Jeep and lock it until a chillingly cheerful voice called out from the shadows.

“Where you going off to, man? You just got here!”

Tom immediately unsheathed his pistol, aiming at the source of the voice amongst the dark. A pair of cat-like golden eyes gleamed in the darkness as the boss of Juicio Divino emerged like a phantom from the dark warehouse entrance. Six more phantoms materialized alongside him with their own weapons drawn and aimed at the Costa boss. Julio’s eyes briefly flickered down to his accomplice who’d been thrown out of the car before fixing back on Thomas again. He lazily grinned, his teeth shining unnaturally white in the dark night. “Why don’t you step out of the vehicle and come on in here?” It did not sound like a request. Six guns remained trained on his body behind the windshield.

Thomas growled like a cornered animal as he reluctantly set his gun on the dashboard, got out of the car, and put his hands up. Attacking Julio directly would guarantee he’d be killed, but surrendering and giving them what they wanted now would at least open an opportunity to gain the upper hand later, he reasoned. Although he doubted this wild cat would ever give him the chance.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump , @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[phantomcodes]

blueberry | theme by sage

get the code: $8 - static preview / version 2 as suggested, a theme inspired by windows 95/old windows versions!

features (more info below the cut):

toggle: tags on click, music player, updates, the explore menu as a whole, and explore info, explore navigate, & explore blogs

headerbar includes blog icon & name, scroll to top, day/night & tumblr controls buttons

sidebar includes links for ask, archive, follow button, updates button, & up to 3 extras, an uploadable image, and custom description

explore menu: carousel with panels for a description & image, info stats & likes/dislikes, navigation with up to 3 link sections (each with unlimited links), and blogs

customizable: blog title, description, colors, body & title fonts, and font size

responsive design, 4 corner options, 3 post margin options, phosphor icons

nothing needs to be changed in the code, everything can be changed in the customize panel!

terms:

reblog if using

do not touch the credit

view all terms / faq

credits listed in the code / credits page

please consider supporting me ♡

colors

the colors for this theme are important!! you can ofc use whatever colors you like but this is my advice for it to look right:

your background color should be slightly darker than your posts color

your shadow color should be darker than your background color, how much darker you make it is up to you but i’d recommend making it pretty visibly darker

your highlight color should be lighter than your posts color, as with the shadow i recommend making this visibly lighter

this is more general and applies to most of my themes that have a color gradient - your gradient accents should be either much lighter or much darker than your gradient colors, i usually use either white or black for the gradient text colors

footer

includes the sidebar button (start button), search bar, and explore menu & music player buttons (toggleable)

sidebar

the sidebar is always toggleable with the start button, it will disappear on its own when the screen width gets smaller but you can always toggle it back on

the sidebar includes by default links to your askbox (if it’s enabled) and archive, as well as an updates button (toggleable) and follow button

the sidebar image is uploadable and 350px x 300px

updates

includes up to 5 updates each with an icon and text

explore menu

this is a carousel with sections for a bio with an uploadable image, info stats & likes/dislikes, and blogs or friends

biography panel: the explore image is 250px width and whatever height you want, the text will wrap around your explore image and the panel will scroll if it gets too long

info panel: up to 6 info stats, unlimited likes/dislikes

navigate panel: up to 3 link sections each with unlimited links

blogs panel: up to 8 blogs with blog url and some text

likes/dislikes section (explore menu)

leave the likes title blank if you don’t want this section

leave the dislikes title blank if you only want the likes

FORMAT FOR BOTH: <li>like dislike text here</li>

wrap each of your likes/dislikes in <li></li>, you can put as many of these as you want

this section can be used for whatever you want it doesn’t have to be likes/dislikes!

photo example of the format below

navigate section (explore menu)

leave explore links 2 title and/or explore links 3 title blank if you don’t want those extra link sections

FORMAT FOR LINKS: <a href=“/linkurlhere”>link text here</a>

put as many links as you want! photo example of the format below

music player

this player uses an image link - see my faq if you have questions

uploading your song: i recommend using google drive to host your mp3 files - below is a brief explanation for how to do this but you can also see the resources provided here by glenthemes and more links on my credits page

to start you need an mp3 audio file, once you have the one you want go to google drive and click: ＋ New ➞ File upload

select your mp3 audio file and click open

open your newly uploaded audio file in google drive and click the three dots on the top right, then click Share and under General Access change it to Anyone with the link can view

copy the sharing link provided, it will look something like this: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1pBA6KdlLEzoEZPQ6hmaSr9LGLeCQGPxz/view?usp=sharing

go to the following site and paste your sharing url in the first box provided: https://www.joelgrayson.com/drive-download-link-generator

your final product should look something like this: https://docs.google.com/uc?export=download&id=1pBA6KdlLEzoEZPQ6hmaSr9LGLeCQGPxz

make sure the music player is toggled on in the theme, paste your audio link in the Song URL field

i think that covers everything, make sure to check my faq if you still have questions!!

[louisupdates]

[Translated from Spanish]

Ten years after the One Direction shows, Louis Tomlinson returned to Vélez to make the stadium vibrate

The 32-year-old British singer showed off on a cold night, to which he knew how to change the temperature with his music and his fans,

"This is fucking crazy. Sing with me!" he said in one of his many interactions with the public.

[Photo: Martin Bonetto]

Barbara Ventura | 05/19/24 16:37 / Updated on 05/20/2024 03:45

After a brief promotional visit, British singer Louis Tomlinson (32 years old) returned to Argentina with his world tour Faith in the Future to offer an electric and unforgettable show this Saturday at the José Amalfitani. The Vélez stadium was the epicenter of a night full of emotions, where euphoria and nostalgia mixed in the air when the former member of One Direction took the same stage that he shared with the British-Irish band in his two shows of 10 years ago.

Unlike the tour that brought him to the country in 2022 to present his debut album Walls at the Movistar Arena, this time Louis was accompanied by another former member of the band, Liam Payne, who at 20.40 caused a great surprise by appearing on the northern preferential stage of the court to enjoy the concert from a private box.

As it could not be otherwise, when they saw him, the fans sang his name in unison: "Liam, Liam! Liam, Liam!", a gesture that did not go unnoticed for the English singer who decided to leave the box for a few seconds to say hello, smiling and lively.

After 21.15, the reflectors that illuminated the stadium suddenly went out to start the concert, which took place on an almost winter night that was felt to the bones due to the low temperatures that reached a minimum of 8°. But nothing and no one could tarnish the party that was about to begin.

It was then that the stadium became a tide of cell phones ready to record the triumphant arrival of Louis Tomlinson, who when he met again with his audience after two years, began to sing the opening song, The Greatest, which is part of his second album that gives its name to the world tour.

In this way, the performer led an almost two-hour show whose setlist was made up of 21 songs, 16 of which belong to his first two albums: Walls and Faith In The Future.

He also performed Night Changes and Where Do Broken Hearts Go?, two iconic songs from One Direction's album Four (2014) that reverted from pop to rock to accompany the live sound of his solo project crossed by musical influences of Britpop and Brit Rock.

Tomlinson and his fans, an indestructible bond

Over the years, on more than one occasion, the British singer was frank about the close bond that unites him to his fans around the world, who for shows usually organize fan projects - massive creative actions organized on social networks to deploy at different moments of a concert - and when playing his first solo show in an Argentine stadium, it was no different.

The first one that was seen on the Vélez court occurred during the second song, Kill My Mind. "This is absolutely crazy. Sing with me!" exclaimed Tomlinson, visibly surprised, realizing that the stadium had turned into a great tide of white lights that moved up and down as he sang the bridge of the song "Kill my, kill my, kill my."

Other fan projects that stood out throughout the night were given during the performance of Saturday, which consisted of printing white posters with the black legend that read "This saturday takes the pain away", a phrase that alludes to the lyrics.

For Out of My System, the public was organized to have white and red handkerchiefs, characteristic colors of the album Faith in the Future and to be able to wave them at the beginning of the song and also in the choruses, which generated a real rock climate.

"Buenos Aires, I need to talk because this is fucking crazy! I want to start the show by thanking each of the people who are here tonight. You’ve blown my mind!" said the singer from Doncaster, United Kingdom, obnce the concert began.

In the middle of his speech, Tomlinson was honest about how shocked he felt at the warm welcome he received at the José Amalfitani stadium: "Maybe you have a different opinion, but I never, not even in a fucking million years, expected to be alone on a stage of this size, and be proud for me, I can feel it, but be proud of yourself for what we create together."

"This is incredible but... Jesus, it’s fucking cold!" was one of the many comments that Louis made, with a funny tone throughout the cold night.

When singing the sixth song We Made It, he made sure to go through the stage from end to end and also used the catwalk to be in contact with the largest number of people present in the audience.

Then, he asked his loyal fans that by singing it "to think about how far we’ve come together" referring to the ups and downs he faced after the end of One Direction in 2015 that meant five years of global success and the uncertainties he overcame to encourage himself to launch his career as a solo singer in 2020. And by way of support, the audience sang in unison: "Olé olé olé olé, Louis, Louis!"

As if time had not passed and it was still 2014, fans chanted every word of the hits Night Changes and Where Do Broken Hearts Go?, which marked One Direction's career. The band has left precedents that, although no longer active, left a mark with its discography for more than a generation.

As the concert came to the end, Tomlinson said: "Tonight I enjoyed every second, except for the cold" in terms of how he experienced the concert he gave in Argentina after 2 years.

"Every one of you has been incredible. It feels fucking good to play in a stadium of this size, feel so good on stage and have all of you here so again, thank you, thank you, thank you," Louis thanked his fans for the last time before warning that there was only one song left in the repertoire: Silver Tongues to recognize that he was not ready for the concert to end: "I don't want this to end but we have to.”

As it usually happens and it has already become a tradition during his concerts, Louis came down from the stage to approach the fans who were on the barricades at the front, and thus interact with them and greet them up close.

The physical papers [via TLouiesPresent and Louisargbot]

Louis Tomlinson, FITFWT24: Buenos Aires [18.5.2024]

[yoonia]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @lo1k-diamonds | thank you so much, love! And I know that I was tagged by a few others before while I was offline or on break so I guess here it is lol

Rules: Share the last line you wrote and tag the same number of people as the words in the line.

I have a few WIPs opened which I've been working on back and forth today, so I'll share from each one. Maybe I should share a bunch of snippets/longer lines instead while I'm at it to make up for my absence lately:

From Bedroom Hymns [myg]

“There you are, little dove.”  You briefly close your eyes, relishing on the shudder that his deep voice brings. This isn’t an imagination, you muse to yourself as you open your eyes to see Yoongi walking across the bridge. The white mist formed by the flowing water beneath him breaks away with each step that he makes.   “You’re late.” Too many long days, three different trips late. “I almost believed that I wouldn’t be so lucky to see you today before I leave.”

From Ever A Never After [ksj; jjk]

You suck a deep breath, and Seokjin has no idea why the sound you make pierces straight deeply into his chest. Then you make it worse when you speak with an innocent, helpless voice of yours, “Anyway, you are right, Sir. I don’t have anything with me. I left all my gold coins back home, since I thought I wouldn’t be needing it today with the ceremony and all.”  Again, dread fills his chest. “Gold coins,” he groans under his breath with a grimace. He closes his eyes, trying to find that sense of calmness deep inside him once again before it slips away. “All right. Breathe.” 

From Hot Mess [kth]

“Thank you for your concern,” he says, “though I’d much prefer to discuss them with you. Preferably in private, where we can be thorough.”  Somehow, his request unpleasantly tickles your brain, and the sour mood you felt returns. But you hide it with a forced smile and an overly sweet voice when you speak to him again. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, I’m going to need to do some minor adjustments with our setup today and I would like to get things ready before we can start taking photos.”  “I see. That’s a shame,” he mutters with feigned remorse. “Then I guess I’ll have to wait until later to see you.” 

From Chance Encounter [DPR Ian]

“What are you doing to me?”  “Returning the favour,” he says, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before turning away. “You’ve been driving me crazy lately, so it’s time to make you feel how I’ve been feeling.” His words fade into a deep grunt as his lips descend, pressing against your chin before he starts kissing down the column of your throat. 

From Blood Moon Rising [pjm]

“You—”  Pulling himself up from the crashing waves, Hyun positions himself behind a pointy rock to hide as he shifts back to his human form. Only partly, however, as only his long legs appear to replace the fishtail, leaving the twin rows of his sharp fins still visible on his skin, blending into the skin of his thighs.  Lowering one knee on the ground, Hyun remains behind the rock to conceal his nudity. A brief moment passes before he slowly lifts his head. His eyes are glowing in silver as he returns Lani’s soft gaze, the gill slits appearing on the sides of his neck and lower ribcage are pumping with every breath that he takes as he slowly adjusts being on land. His hands, still in the form of a pair of talons, rest over his bent knee as he formally greets the Vampire before him.  “My name is Hyun, the son of Hirae, the former head priest of Siren’s Den,” he introduces himself with a deep voice, soft snarls coming out with each word. His sharp dagger-like teeth peek through the seams of his lips as he speaks. “I was sent here by Lord Jimin to retrieve you, Lady Lani.” 

From Alpha's Inferno [knj]

A mate bond is maddening simply by being present. This bond, awakened after a long period of time, has continued to grow stronger, binding their souls together before they even have any chance to fight against it.  “Why are you fighting it, Alpha?” the pretty vampire asks him, and Namjoon can already feel his resolve dwindling at the sound of her voice. He makes no move as Lani steps closer, her movement graceful and slick. Like a predator, yet enticing and captivating at the same time that he cannot look away. “Is it because I’m one with the enemy?”

(from the two last snippets, I think it becomes obvious why I keep saying I needed to write these two together lol)

Tagging some friends: @beomcoups @shadowkoo @caelesjjk @taegularities @bangtans-momma and whoever wants to do this. tag me so I can see what you're working on :')

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Part 16

“Four Hands Bloodied”

Joel Miller x f! o/c

gif by @riley-keoughs

A/N: the time has finally come for me to put this chapter out there. I took a break from Gwen and Joel after chapter 15 because it took a lot out of me to write it. This chapter actually might hurt more than the last and like I have said before, it doesn’t get any better from here. This entire chapter is all angst so if that isn’t your thing, please don’t read it. Thank you for being patient with me. ♡

~word count: 9.0k~

Summary: after Tess’s death, you, Joel, and Ellie make the trek to Bill and Franks.

Warnings: age gap, (o/c is in her early 30’s and Joel is in his 50’s) established relationship, angst, trauma, regret, guilt, anger, resentment, heartbreak, arguments, depictions of a panic attack, going into shock, two character deaths, (Bill and Frank’s suicide) PTSD, triggering themes that may be disturbing for some viewers. Implicit smut, no description as it’s all about Joel and Gwen’s feelings in the moment, brief mentions of alcohol, unprotected piv, emotions, cock warming but in the sense that they physically do not want to be apart from one another, sad sex is the easiest way to describe it. Some might find their coping mechanisms to be toxic, (+18) minors dni!

Songs for this chapter:

“Favorite Crime” by Olivia Rodrigo

“Long Long Time” by Linda Rondstadt

“take a moment to breathe” by normal the kid

“Eavesdrop” by The Civil Wars

“Same Old Same Old” by The Civil Wars

“White Lie” by the Civil Wars

“Flicker” by Niall Horan

“Wait” by M83

“On The Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter

“I Can’t Go On Without You” by KALEO

10 miles outside of the Boston QZ

The only visible light source was the oil lamp that sat between yours and Ellie’s sleeping bags. You had unwrapped the cloth from the teens arm before gently cleaning it with a rag doused in rubbing alcohol. Ellie didn’t even flinch as the chemical burned the fresh bite mark on her forearm. You were silent as you gently cleaned the wound. Your mind had completely gone numb. You had entirely shut down sans your aching heart. It ached for Tess. It ached for Bea. It ached for Ellie and it ached for Joel. That was the dangerous thing about loving someone. There would always be an inevitable pain that followed.

“Can you tell me about Bill and Frank?” Ellie had spoken through the thick silence. The soft glow from the oil lamp was casted on both yours and Ellie’s face.

“They’re our long time friends. Well, Joel and…Tess knew them longer than I have. Bill is the ultimate survivalist. He turned his mom’s house into an apocalypse bunker. He’s got security cameras, booby traps, and a giant steel fence that surrounds the town and his property. Bill and Frank are lovers, the unlikely kind. They’re pretty much the polar opposites of each other.” You spoke softly as you grabbed a fresh bandage from your backpack and gently wrapped Ellie’s arm.

“Bill sounds like a fucking badass. How did they end up meeting and falling in love?” Ellie asked, curiosity laced in her tone.

“Oh, he’s a badass alright. Huge grump as well but he reminds me of—” You paused, letting out a sigh as you gathered up your med supplies and tucked them back into your bag. “Frank fell into one of Bill’s many booby traps and the rest is history.”

Ellie could sense your discomfort as she quietly thanked you for tending to her arm. “Are you..okay? I know that’s a silly question to ask considering what happened, but..we can talk about it if you want?”

You dodged her question like it was the fucking plague. “Do you wanna see a picture of them? Well, all of us together actually. It was taken a couple summers ago.” You reached into your backpack once more, searching around till you found the Polaroid photo with the time stamp, June 21st, 2021

The edges of the photo were a bit worn but the colors stayed true. You could taste the warm summer breeze on your tongue. Joel’s laughter and Bill’s grumbling as Frank insisted on taking the photo. “So that pretty little thing is Tess’s girlfriend, Bea. She’s a spitfire. Then those two handsome chaps are Bill and Frank.” You pointed to the two older gentlemen. Frank was beaming in the photo while his lover looked as grumpy as ever.

The photo was taken midway through a game of monopoly. You were all huddled close around the table. The only person who wasn’t focused on the camera was your Joel. He was too busy looking at you.

Your fingers were trembling as you held the photo under the warm glow of the oil lamp. Your lower lip wobbled, but you refused to cry. You had shed more than enough tears that day and your body was spent.

“Gwen..” Ellie whispered, reaching out and gently placing her hand over your trembling one.

“Ellie, please. I can’t talk about this. I’m sorry.” You shakily whispered as you looked up at the teen with glassy eyes.

“Well, it’s a beautiful photo. You all look super happy in it. Well, except for Bill. He looks like one grumpy ass motherfucker. Must have been a fun day, huh?” Ellie spoke softly as she didn’t want to upset you anymore than you already were.

“Oh, it was a super fun day. The happiest that any of us ever were. It was like..this moment outside of reality, where the apocalypse didn’t exist, and we were all just living our lives.”

“That’s beautiful.”

The top of the oil lamp made a low hissing sound from a stray raindrop that had landed on the warm metal. Soft patter of raindrops began to fall between the gaps in the trees. One had landed on Ellie’s nose and she let out a soft sound of annoyance, scrunching her nose up from the intrusion before she threw the hood of her jacket over her head.

“Listen, Ellie. I know why you stood up for me earlier, but..don’t feel like you need to do that alright? Especially when Joel—”

Ellie shook her head as she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets to keep them warm. “Gwen, I wasn’t just gonna sit there and let him talk to you like that. He was just fucking beating on you the whole time. That wasn’t okay. You know that right?”

You let out a sigh, rubbing your fingers against your temples before you glanced over your shoulder. At the far edge of the camp, you could barely make out Joel’s form laying on his sleeping bag. His back was facing you and he had his gun clutched tightly to his chest.

“I know it wasn’t okay what he did. Look, I just don’t want him thinking that just because he’s going through something, that he just gets to take it out on you now too. I know how to handle him, and I promise you, he won’t ever speak to you that way again. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Ellie nodded as she tucked herself into her sleeping bag and used the light from the oil lamp to read her shitty puns book titled, No Pun Intended: Volume Too

At the far end of the makeshift campsite, Joel was lying on his side. His back was facing you and Ellie far in the distance. He was clutching his rifle to his chest, finger hovering the trigger. It had been hours since Tess had died. Hours since he said the unforgivable to you. Hours since his entire fucking world was turned upside down. He felt lost. Hopeless. Broken. Out of ideas. Most importantly, he was angry at himself. Furious for allowing himself to treat you so cruelly. He knew that apologizing to you would leave him fruitless. His words would mean nothing to you because the damage was already inflicted. Part of him was surprised that you hadn’t left. He couldn’t blame you if you did end up leaving. If he put himself in your shoes, he would be doing the same thing. So what does a man such as himself do now? How does one move forward? How does one forgive themselves for inflicting cruelty on the ones they love the most?

Joel felt the tears prick the corner of his eyes as he quickly blinked them away. He didn’t deserve to cry. Not after what he had done. His heart clenched in on itself when he pictured the way your face fell. The tears streaming down your cheeks. The pain swirling behind your warm irises as you shakily held the barrel of your gun deep into the cavern of his chest.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut tight. Wishing that the images would dissipate from his broken mind. He couldn’t stand it. Knowing that you were yards away from him, hurting and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing to fix it.

Pathetic.

He listened to the whistling of the wind twisting through the trees above. The leaves fluttered. The crickets and forest life sang their songs, but Joel’s mind did not stop reeling. He forced himself to try and get some form of sleep. Even if it was just 20 minutes. Despite everything that happened, he would be damned if he wasn’t alert enough to keep you and Ellie safe through the night.

Just as his mind began to relax and the overall exhaustion had his eyes drooping, he heard a voice whispering through the trees. His ears began to ring and his mind felt fuzzy. The sounds of the forest were muffled by the ringing in his ears. Then, everything went silent. A brief moment of relief, and then he heard her voice again.

Sarah.

Dad. What happened? Dad..I'm sorry about Tess. She’s sorry things ended the way they did. Dad, I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry, but you hurt Gwen so bad. Why did you do that?

Joel felt the guilt swirl deep in his gut. He was conscious enough to know that he really wasn’t hearing his dead daughter's voice. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. She wasn’t really speaking to him but god, did it fucking hurt to hear his baby girl disappointed in him.

“I’m so sorry baby girl. I know I shouldn’t have treated her that way. I was just so upset, and angry at myself for not bein’ able to protect Tess. I failed her and I know Gwen was only tryin’ to comfort me. I needed her and I pushed her away. I’m so sorry.”

You need her more than ever now. You can’t lose her. Promise me you won’t lose her Dad. You have to show her that you’re better than that. Please. I love you, and I know you’ll do the right thing.

“I promise you that I won’t lose her. I can’t lose her. I love you, and I miss you so fucking much baby girl. Daddy loves you so much.” Joel whispered through the darkness.

I love you.

Joel felt his body cave in on itself, silent sobs wrecked through him as he trembled along the sleeping bag. His grip around the rifle tightened as he tried to bring himself back down to earth. It was too much. Everything was too fucking much. He wished that you were there, holding him, singing to him, comforting him. He desperately yearned for your warm embrace, despite being aware that he didn’t deserve it. Sarah was right, Joel needed you more than ever now.

“Hey kiddo? Try and get some sleep, okay? I’m going to take the first watch. We’re gonna be on the road early tomorrow morning. I promise I'll keep you safe Ellie. No matter what.” You were slowly rising from the forest floor with your gun tucked safely in the holster around your hips.

The teenager looked up at you from her puns book as she slowly nodded. Her eyes were searching yours. You could tell she was looking for comfort, for reassurance that everything was going to be okay. “Thank you, Gwen.” She whispered.

You gave her a small reassuring nod before you stepped over your sleeping bag. You didn’t want to speak to Joel at all. You would have much rather avoided it at all costs. You promised this kid that you would keep her safe and in order to do that, you’d have to bury your hurt feelings, and ego for her sake.

Your approach was quiet, and you could already feel the tears pricking your eyes as you drew near his broad frame curled up on his sleeping bag. You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you stood over him.

“Joel.”

You heard him take a shuddered inhale as he turned his head over his shoulder, looking up at you. Even in the darkness, you could see the glassy look in his deep pools of brown. Your heart tugged in your chest towards him, but you refused to give in.

“Gwen.” Was all he could muster out.

“I’m taking the first watch. Get some sleep and I'll wake you up when it’s your turn.” You averted making eye contact with him at all and looked off to the side.

“Are you sure?..I can take the first watch—” you cut him off before he could continue.

“No, Joel. It’s fine. Just get some sleep.” You were already turning on your heel to walk away when you felt his warm palm encage around your wrist, ceasing your movements.

“Gwen, I know that you’re upset, you have every right to be—”

“Fucking let go of my wrist right now Joel. Let go of me.” You hissed under your breath as you moved to tug your wrist from his grasp.

“Gwen, please. I can’t—” he pleaded with you.

“Can’t what? Can’t lose me? You can’t lose something that was never yours Joel.” The words rolled bitterly off your tongue. You couldn’t help it. He had hurt you so bad and all you could do was lash out.

“Don’t go fuckin’ sayin’ somethin’ like that when you know it ain’t true.” He harshly whispered, feeling his own bitterness begin to seep through his already broken heart.

“It’s not true? What makes it not true? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go right fucking now.”

“It ain’t true because I know you’re angry, you’re upset, and you’re hurt, but you don’t actually feel that way..you don’t. I know you don’t.” His grip loosened just enough for you to pull your wrist free.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me how I feel, Joel. Don’t you dare.” You were seething at this point, blinking away the tears that were threatening to spill over. You gave him one last harsh look before you were quickly retreating from him.

Joel let his hand drop to the forest floor, gripping the grass between his fingers. He tore up grass and dirt beneath his palms. His fingernails caked in dirt as he tore up more of the grassy earth. He watched you walk away from him and did nothing about it. You needed more time, that was all. He tried to convince himself that you’d forgive him eventually. That you still loved him. He knew he was being selfish for allowing his thoughts to focus on your feelings towards him. Had he really learned nothing?

Of course you still loved him. Of course you fucking did and the worst part? There was nothing you could do to stop it. Joel was far too deeply entangled in your soul for you to not love him. You were doing this for Ellie. You weren’t doing this for him, or yourself, you were doing this for the 14 year old girl that wasn’t even sure if she would live to see another day.

It was sometime in the middle of the night when you had gone to wake up Joel so he could take the second watch. You kicked his boot hard with your own, startling him awake but you didn’t care. As soon as he was sitting up with his rifle at the ready, you were already walking back to your sleeping bag and climbing into its confines.

Joel had let out a grumble sigh as he slowly rose from his sleeping bag. He reloaded his rifle effortlessly before he was quietly walking past yours and Ellie’s sleeping bags. He stopped briefly as he glanced down at your curled up form under the confines of the sleeping bag. He let his eyes gaze over to Ellie’s before he walked away. He was standing close enough to both of your sleeping bags to shield you if needed. Now that he was forced awake, his mind had the free rein to tear him up even more than he had already felt.

Ellie was the first to wake up while Joel was still on watch. She slowly sat up from the warm confines of her sleeping bag. She hadn’t noticed Joel at first as she was still in a sleepy state and her body was still waking up. She rubbed the eye crusties away with a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head. There was a slight chill in the fresh morning air and she was immediately reaching for her jacket to block out the chill. She zoned in on the sound of a twig snapping and her head snapped towards where the noise was emitting from. She let out a visible sigh of relief when she realized it was just Joel. “Morning.” She mumbled quietly as she stood up.

Joel let out a deep sigh, his jaw clenching as he looked over at the teenager. “Mornin.’” He mumbled back.

Ellie hesitantly walked towards him as she slipped her jacket on and shoved her hands in the worn pockets for extra warmth. She glanced towards your sleeping bag where you were still fast asleep. “Should we wake her up?”

“No.” He shook his head. “She’s been through enough. We’ll just let her sleep a little longer. It’s the least I can do for her. Are..you hungry?”

Ellie was tugging on a loose thread inside her jacket pocket absentmindedly. She looked over at Joel and gave him a slight nod. “Yeah, I am.”

Joel reached into his own jacket pocket and pulled out the last ration of his jerky and held it out to her. “Here. You can have what’s left of mine.” This was his own way of extending the figurative olive branch to her.

Ellie looked at Joel wearily. She wasn’t necessarily his biggest fan at the moment but would hating this man she barely knew, really do any good? You and Joel were the only sense of security she had now. She trusted you, but Joel? Not nearly as much. Nonetheless, she reached her hand out and grabbed the wrapped jerky. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Joel knew he was going to have to say more than that to get through to Ellie. He was going to have to try a lot harder than that.

“Listen..” He hesitated. “I know that yesterday was a lot. I know you were only tryin’ to help and stick up for Gwen, and i’m sorry for the way that I spoke to ya. You’re just a kid, and I shouldn’t have said the things I did Ellie.”

Ellie had torn off a small piece of jerky before quietly chewing it. She refused to make eye contact with him and reverted to staring off in the distance. “I don’t believe you.”

When Joel didn’t respond, Ellie took this opportunity to tell him how she really felt. “Look, I'm sorry that Tess died. I’m sorry that you weren’t able to protect her. I’m sure you wanted to throw the blame on me, right? You needed a truck battery and no one made you take me. You made the choice, but that doesn’t mean you get to blame me, or Gwen for the outcome of your choice. So don’t stand there and fucking sugar coat anything to me Joel.”

Joel was not expecting this kind of response from Ellie at all but he knew she was right. He couldn’t blame her or you for what happened to Tess. No one deserved to take the blame for her death. He knew he shouldn’t blame himself either, but he did. He was still angry at himself for not being able to do more.

“You’re right. I don’t get to blame you or Gwen for my choices. Neither of you are to blame for Tess’s death. Look, all I'm askin’ is that you try and look past all that. Gwen and I can keep you safe, but it ain’t gonna work if we’re not all on the same page. You get what I'm sayin’?”

Ellie snorted under her breath at his response. “Sure. Right. Well, I don’t really have much of a choice now do I? I’m unfortunately stuck with you. Good luck getting her back man. Pretty sure its gonna take a fuckin’ miracle for her to ever forgive you.”

“Will you help me?”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Ellie quipped back.

“Cause if you wanna stay alive, and make it to the fireflies, you’re gonna need both of us to get you there.”

Ellie thought for a moment on her follow up answer. She could have the upperhand on this situation if she really wanted to.

“Fine. My one condition is that I get a gun too.”

Joel scoffed at her request and immediately shook his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. I ain’t givin’ a 14 year old a gun.”

Ellie shrugged with a faux sigh of disappointment. “Well, guess we don’t have a deal.”

“I’ll teach you to shoot, but you ain’t gettin’ a gun, kid.”

“Deal.” Ellie said with a small grin on her face.

You had awoken from your dreamless slumber shortly after Joel and Ellie had come to their own agreement. You were already rolling up your sleeping bag, and packing your bag. You had said good morning to Ellie, but the only acknowledgment you gave to Joel’s existence was a slight nod of your head in his direction. At least soon you would be reunited with Frank, and one of his warm bear hugs. You couldn’t wait to see him, and well..Bill too of course.

The sun was high in the sky now as the three of you walked a route that was familiar to you and Joel. You and Ellie had taken a couple detours to rescue a few butterflies. Joel couldn’t help but watch you as you carefully guided a monarch butterfly onto your finger, and placed it on a nearby milkweed plant. He saw the softness in your face, and the lightness in your eyes for a brief moment before it was gone again.

The next critters you and Ellie found were two garden snakes. Neither one of you were fearful of the creatures as you gently picked the snake up. The creature wrapped itself around your wrist lightly as you lightly stroked the top of its small scaly head. It was a nice moment that you and the teenager were able to share together. You both set the snakes down in a grassy patch and watched them slither away.

Joel took no part in any of it, but you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face constantly.

You were telling Ellie more stories of Bill and Frank as the hike continued. Joel had found himself stopped in his tracks when he saw a purple butterfly land along your shoulder. Its wings slowly opened as it was soaking in the warmth of the sunlight. You hadn’t noticed the delicate creature using your shoulder as a perch to sunbathe on. Joel remembered the first time you and him saw a purple butterfly land on his nose two summers ago at Bill and Franks. He immediately knew it was his daughter then, and his daughter now.

His eyes stayed locked on the delicate creature as he walked close behind you. The butterfly stayed on your shoulder for a few minutes longer before fluttering away. His eyes followed the creature till he could see it no more.

“How’d you get that scar on your head?” Ellie asked, tearing him from his thoughts suddenly.

When he didn’t immediately respond, Ellie kept pressing.

“What? Is it something lame? Like you fell down the stairs or something?” She couldn’t help but be a little curious.

“I didn’t fall down any stairs, kid.”

“Okay..so what happened then?”

“Someone shot at me and missed.” He grumbled.

“See, that’s so fuckin’ cool. You shoot back?” Ellie was looking up at him now.

“Yeah.”

“Wicked. You get him?”

“No. I missed, too. It happens more often than you think.” Joel’s eyes locked on yours momentarily as you glanced over your shoulder at the pair. His and your expressions were unreadable.

“‘Cause you suck at shooting or, like in general you mean?”

“In general.” His response was gruff and he hoped to god she didn’t ask him anything else about it.

As soon as he saw her opening her mouth again, he cut her off before she could ask him another question.

“You ask a lot of goddamn questions, you know that kid?”

“Yes, I do.” Ellie responded with a cheshire cat grin.

The three of you stopped at Cumberland Farms. It was the gas station that you, Joel, and Tess would stash ammo and supplies when you were short on gear.

Ellie immediately zoned in on an old arcade game that was covered in dust in debris. She had a childlike excitement in her eyes as she started pressing all the buttons. “No way! You ever play this one? I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth, and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones!” It was clear to you that the teenager was reliving a fond memory just based on her excitement. It was nice to see that the apocalypse hadn’t killed her spirit entirely.

“Ah. Oh, man. You forgot where you put your stuff.” Ellie spoke observantly as Joel was looking for the loose floorboard where the extra ammo was stashed.

“What? No. I’m just zeroin’ in on it is all. It’s been a couple years.” He grumbled.

“He doesn’t remember.” You whispered to the teenager before walking down the aisle where you knew the ammo was stashed. You had to kick some debris and other crap off of it before you got down on your knees and started to lift the floorboards. Joel had come alongside you, crouching besides you as he helped you lift the boards. Your hands brushed momentarily but you ignored him entirely as you pulled out a couple guns, packs of food, and bullet cartridges.

“Okay, well, i’m gonna take a look around, see if there’s anything good.” Ellie’s voice was distant as she was already walking towards the back of the store.

“Trust me, it’s all been picked over already.” Joel responded as he grabbed the carton of bullet cartridges from you to reload his gun.

“Maaaybe, Maybe not. Is there anything bad in here?” Ellie asked.

“Just you.” He gruffly spoke.

“Ah. Getting funnier.” You already picture Ellie’s little grin as you were reloading your own gun.

“Are you going to talk to me at all?” Joel was looking at you now. He was trying to gauge exactly where your head was at that moment and you knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Joel.” You finished loading your gun before grabbing the bags of canned food and stuffed it into your backpack.

“Bullshit.”

“Can you just respect the fact that I don’t want to fucking talk to you? Stop trying to pressure me. If I wanted to talk to you then I would, but I don’t. So leave me alone.” You lowly whispered as you stood up.

“You can’t push me away forever. We have to talk eventually, Gwen.”

“I sure as hell can fucking try and push you away for as long as I see fit.” You zipped up your bag in a haste, swinging it over your shoulder.

Neither of you could hear Ellie at this point as you were both too caught up in your own emotions.

“Ellie?”

No response.

You and Joel both had your guns at the ready as you walked towards the back of the store.

“Ellie?” You and Joel called her name again. She was only gone for a few minutes. What the hell could have happened in that amount of time.

“Picked over, my ass.” The teen gleefully was holding up a box of tampons in her hand as you turned the corner.

“Don’t go fuckin’ scarin’ us like that.” Joel had lowered his gun at his side.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” She mumbled sheepishly.

After reloading on ammo, the three of you were back on the trail. You knew that you were nearing Bill and Franks based on the scenery. The plane wreck up along the farside of the hill, and the graves that lay ahead.

“Holy shit. You fly in one of those before Joel?” Ellie asked.

Joel glanced towards the wreckage he had seen about a dozen or so times now. “Yeah, a few times, sure. It ain’t all cracked up to what you think it is. Gettin’ shoved in a middle seat, next to either some stuffy guy, or an annoyin’ kid. Pay 12 bucks for a damn sandwich.”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky!”

Joel sighed, adjusting the strap of his rifle on his shoulder. “Yeah, well, so did they.” He grimly responded.

“So, everything came crashing down in one day?” She was still looking towards the plane wreck. It was hard for her to look away. So many lives on that singular plane were lost. It was haunting to think about.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay..but how? I mean…no one was infected with the Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. Then, all at once? How the hell did it even start? Cause if you have to be bit to get infected, who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

Joel scoffed under his breath, shaking his head slightly in her direction. “It wasn’t a monkey. Didn’t you go to school? I’d think they would explain this shit to you.”

“FEDRA school. They didn’t teach us shit on how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

Joel took a deep breath, a shaky inhale. He really did not want to be having this conversation right now, but he couldn’t fault Ellie on her natural curiosity. She was just a kid after all.

“Well, no one really knows for sure, but, best guess I got..Cordyceps mutated. Thinkin’ some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient that everyone uses. Like flour, or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal…pancake mix. So, you eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food hits all the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thursday night, or Friday morning. Day goes on..they started gettin’ sick. By the afternoon, evenin’, they got worse. Then they started bitin’. Friday night, September 26, 2003. By Monday, everything was gone.

Silence fell between Joel and Ellie, and you could tell that Joel’s mind was reeling now. You weren’t looking back at him, but you just had a feeling that he was picking at his cuticles to distract himself. You weren’t there to hold his hand.

Once you were nearing the gravesite, Joel had gently grabbed Ellie’s forearm to hold her back. “Hang on just a minute, kid. I don’t want you goin’ up there. We’re gonna cut through the woods.”

Ellie looked up at him before her gaze fell on you. “Wait, isn’t the road easier?”

“Yeah, it’s just…There’s stuff up there that you shouldn’t see.” Joel was honest. He remembered the first time you saw the gravesite. Your reaction was the same as Tess’s but it hurt him 10x more to see you sob for the innocent lives taken.

“Well, now I have to see. It can’t be that bad, right?”

“Ellie. I don’t want you too. I’m tryin’ to protect you. I’m serious.” Joel was stern with his tone. He really did not want her seeing those kinds of horrors.

“Can it hurt me?”

“No. That ain’t the point though. I don’t want you seein’ it.” He let out a defeated sigh when the teen had slipped her wrist from his grasp and was already walking ahead.

“You’re too honest, man. Should’ve said it was an axe murderer or something. Michael Meyers, Freddy Krueger, Jason. That would have scared me, maybe.” She had come to a sudden stop when she stumbled upon the gravesite. “Uh…whatever it was…think it’s gone.” She looked over her shoulder at you and Joel.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Said you were goin’ to a QZ, and you were…if there was room. If there wasn’t…”

You were standing alongside him now, fingers twitching at your side. It was taking all the willpower you had left to not reach out and grab his hand.

“These people weren’t sick?”

“No, probably not.” Joel turned his head slightly to look at you. His eyes casted down to your hand, he watched your fingers twitch and he ever so slightly extended his hand towards you hesitantly.

“Why kill them? Why didn’t they just leave ‘em be?” Ellie looked between the two of you.

You finally met his gaze when he had outstretched his hand in your direction. Your hand did not move towards him. It stayed planted to your side.

“Dead people can’t be infected.” Joel somberly responded.

It was late afternoon when the three of you arrived at Bill and Frank's compound. Joel typed the code into the keypad and watched the metal fence creak open. As you neared their quaint home, you immediately sensed something was wrong. The flowers in the front of the white picket fence were wilted, dried up, dead. Frank never let his flowers wilt. He never would abandon them. He loved each and every one of his plants–oh god.

Joel was already reaching for your arm on instinct to hold you back. He knew whatever laid behind that door was not good. He wanted to protect you from it, shield you from the truth that laid within. He couldn’t because you were too quick, too determined as you slipped your wrist out of his grasp and ran up the steps. Your gun was drawn as you pushed open the door quietly.

“Bill?..”

“Frank?..”

“Oh god, please. No. No. No. Bill?! Frank?!” You observed the front entryway that you had passed through so many times. You saw the flies buzzing on the dining room table. There were two plates of rotting food. For how long? You were unsure, but based on the flies, it had to have been days, weeks even.

They could not be dead. Not your Frank. He was not dead. You desperately tried to convince yourself as you frantically called their names, over and over again.

“BILL?!

“FRANK?!” Your voice cracked as you neared their bedroom door, your hand was grasped around the handle but before you could push open the door, Joel was grabbing you, his arms were around your waist protectively and that's all you needed to finally break down and sob. They were dead. Your friends were fucking dead behind that door.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME! GET OFF OF ME JOEL!” You let out a wail as you turned around in his arms and frantically pushed and punched his chest. “GET OFF OF ME!”

Joel felt his heart twist painfully in his chest as you fought against him. He was holding himself together as best as he could as you cried for your dead friends. “Gwen. Gwen. Baby, please please please stop fighting me. Please! I’m so sorry–”

You broke free of his loose grip as you collapsed down to your knees. Your own arms wrapped around your shaking frame as you let out heavy, heart wrenching sobs. Your vision was blurred by salty tears as you completely caved in on yourself.

Joel was frozen on the spot, his expression stoic, and unreadable. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. What could he do? Bill and Frank were dead. They were dead and he couldn’t comfort you the way he so desperately wanted.

Ellie had watched the whole thing go down from the open doorway. She brought her hand up to her face when she watched you collapse to the floor in a heap of sobs. She pushed herself past Joel before sinking down to her own knees. Suddenly, her arms were around you, she was hugging you tightly, doing her best to try and comfort you.

You only sobbed harder. A bone chilling wail slipped past your cracked lips as you struggled to breathe. Your senses were on overdrive. You were panicking, and Joel recognized it immediately. He was gently grasping Ellie’s shoulders in his trembling palms. “Ellie, move. Please. She needs room to breathe.” He spoke gently to her, easing the teen up from the floor before he sank down to his knees in front of you.

You vaguely could feel his rough palms grasping your tear stained cheeks in a feather light hold. Your ears were ringing, lungs on fire. Joel’s voice sounded muffled and far away. Your head felt dizzy, you swore you were seeing stars behind your eyes as the color drained from your face completely. You had gone sheet white, like a ghost. Heart thrumming rapidly against your ribcage.

“Gwen? Hey..baby. Listen to me, alright? I need you to take some deep breaths for me okay? Deep breaths. Ready? I’ll do them with you.” His tone was soft, tender, and reassuring.

Joel took a deep lungful of air, his eyes never leaving yours as you followed with a deep shaky inhale. You did this a few more times together, and he watched in relief when the color slowly returned to your face.

As soon as you were in a conscious state, you were pushing him away again, far away as your body trembled from shock.

Ellie was close by. She was holding a piece of paper between her fingers. A letter from Bill.

“Read it, Please Ellie.” You whispered.

“Read it.” Joel gave her a small nod of encouragement as he rose to his feet.

August 29th, 2023

“To whomever…but probably Joel.. If you find this…please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it would probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe. Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends…almost. And I respect you. So, I'm gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…Gwen safe, until such time as you and she decide you’ve had enough. At that point, I recommend pairing 40 Vicodins with a nice Brunello.”

Bill

Suicide.

Bill and Frank died together. In one another’s arms. A poetic death for two people who found love in the apocalypse.

Joel had grabbed the letter from her and quietly folded it up before slipping it into his pocket. He wanted to mourn the death of his friends but now was not the time. He had a job to do, like Bill had said. He had to protect you, and Ellie. That was his sole purpose, and he would be damned if he didn’t follow through with it. “Show me your arm.” He plainly requested.

Ellie looked confused momentarily before she slowly rolled up her sleeve. The bite mark on her arm hadn’t gotten worse.

“I’ve… got a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble. That’s why I needed the truck battery so desperately. I gotta go out there and find him. He used to be a Firefly, and my guess is he’ll know where some of them are out there. If that's the case, maybe he can get you to whatever lab this is.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna gather up on supplies and I'm going to get the truck battery charged up. I need you to bring her upstairs and get her in the shower. Can you do that for me, Ellie? There should be a box of women’s clothing in the closet. I’ll worry about gettin’ the supplies we need.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking care of her?”

Joel grinded his teeth together, clenching his jaw tightly. “She doesn’t want me takin’ care of her right now. She trusts you.” He stated it like it was the obvious.

“Okay.”

“One more thing, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about…your condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it. We clear?”

“Yes.” Ellie responded.

“Repeat it.” He requested.

“What you say goes.”

Joel gave the teen a small nod before he was glancing down at your position on the floor. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and your eyes were glazed over in a dead stare. Once Joel’s heavy boots could no longer be heard along the hardwood, Ellie slowly crouched down in front of you.

“Gwen?”

Your eyes flitted over to hers in acknowledgment.

“Joel wants me to get you in the shower. Do you need help getting up?”

You shook your head before slowly pulling yourself up to your feet. You led the way upstairs, pushing back the wonderful memories you shared in this home to the deep part of your brain.

Joel was grabbing you then, grasping your hips as he pulled you flush against his chest. His hand that wasn’t holding you firmly came up to your face, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “What was that about me bein’ pretty awful? I heard that correctly, didn’t I?” His tone was low, teasing.

You immediately brought your arms around his neck and threaded your fingers through his soft curls. “That was nothing, honey. I was just joking. You’re far from awful.”

Before he could steal a kiss, you were slipping out of his grasp like the little tease you were. You had a smirk spread across your lips as you leaned against the doorway. “C’mon, we’re not gonna spend all day up here okay? We’ll have all night for that Joel.” You shot him a wink before slipping past the door and headed back downstairs.

“Gwen?” Ellie was standing alongside you as you stopped in front of the guest room that you and Joel spent a lot of time together in.

“What? I’m…sorry. A lot of memories here. C’mon.” You walked further down the hall and entered a different room. Ellie could only watch as you quietly walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. Even after she heard the shower turn on, she sat against the closed door waiting for you.

As the water streamed down your body, washing away dirt, grime, filth, and blood from your body, more memories seeped through the cracks. Silent sobs slipped past your parted lips. You brought your hand up to your mouth to hide the sound of your cries.

He surprised you then, reaching for your hand before he helped you up from the couch gently.

“Dance with me?”

“I never thought you’d ask, cowboy.” You took his hand then as he helped you up. You were a little unsteady on your feet, while his free hand was gently splayed across your lower back as he pulled you into chest, holding you as close as he physically could. Your hearts were practically intertwined as he slowly started to sway with you. Your fingers were interlocked between his other hand while you brought your freehand to his shoulder, playing with the worn fabric of his flannel gently. He dipped his head down slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His warm brown eyes, locked on yours. You continued to slowly sway, taking in this private moment as he whispered the lyrics lowly between you. His voice was warm, inviting, deep and it settled within your bones. “I had the last waltz with you. Two lonely people together. I fell in love with you..the last waltz should last forever..”

He kissed you then. Closing the small gap between you finally. You didn’t even pull away as the record crackled as the song came to an impending end. You continued to kiss him, tasting the sweet wine on his tongue. His breath hitching, his fingers tightening along the exposed sliver of skin of your lower back. You breathed him in, letting his kiss settle deep within your soul.

You scrubbed your skin raw as the scalding water burned. You welcomed the pain without a fuss.

Ellie had stood up once she heard the water turn off and she moved away from the door when it opened. Your eyes were still bloodshot but at least you clean now.

“There should still be some hot water left. Take your time.” You walked past her, going to the closet to pull down the box of women, and men’s clothes that were stored there.

You set out fresh clothes for Ellie and grabbed a new flannel for Joel. You recognized it as Frank’s immediately. You clutched the fabric tightly to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

Joel was busying himself in the garage. He was attaching the battery to Bill’s truck and he hoped to god the engine would run. He wiped the sweat beading along his forehead with the back of his hand. Letting out a heavy sigh as his mind drifted to the memories he shared here with his friends, and you.

“Joel, honey?..” you spoke softly through the warm breeze.

“Hmm?” He mumbled softly, blinking a few times as he tilted his head forward once more and looked at the wildflower crown between your fingers. “Oh, that’s beautiful sugar. You want me to put it on you?”

You turned your head slightly so you could look at him. “I was gonna ask if I could put it on you.”

“Oh? No baby, it’ll look beautiful on you. It’ll look silly on me.”

“No it won’t, Joel. You’ll look handsome, I promise.”

How could he really say no to you? Especially when you looked so carefree, so happy. It was just a little flower crown after all. Maybe he wouldn’t end up looking silly.

“Oh, alright. Go ahead. Lay it on me” he watched as you gently lowered the flower crown on top of his soft curls. Your smile was so soft, so beautiful.

“So, how do I look? Still ruggedly handsome?”

You nodded and brushed your fingers against his jaw gently. “No, you look beautiful Joel.”

He slammed the hood of the truck shut, cursing under his breath before he kicked at the tire with his worn boot.

You grabbed one of his hands then and brought it up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his palm before interlocking your fingers with his. “I know honey, I got you, you got me. It’s okay. Please, don’t make me beg you.”

“You got me, I got you.” He let out a puff of air against the back of your neck as he slipped his legs between yours. He let his free hand, that wasn’t grasped between your fingers, grab ahold of himself before he gently, and slowly slipped himself between your slick, warm folds.

“I love you.” you whispered quietly. You were unsure if your confession was due to all the wine you consumed. Or if it was your sober thoughts, coming out in drunk words, or a mix of both.

“I love you, always.” He whispered back, tightening his hold around your waist, smiling against your soft skin when he felt your lips brush against his knuckles.

“God fucking dammit. Fuck.” He let out a pained groan, running his fingers through his hair, gripping the tendrils tightly. It physically brought him pain knowing that you were suffering upstairs. Fuck this world. Fuck the cordyceps. Fuck it all.

Joel passed you on your way down the stairs, you wordlessly tossed the flannel in his direction. Your shoulders brushed slightly as you slipped past him. You sat outside in the familiar field of wildflowers.

It felt like hours had passed by the time Ellie had found you and told you it was time to head out. You said a silent goodbye to your friends. To Bill, Frank, and Tess as the teen helped you up from the grassy floor.

You chose to sit in the backseat of the pickup truck while Ellie took shot-gun. It was clearly Ellie’s first time in a car as she was curiously looking around. She wasn’t even sure what Joel meant by a seatbelt, till he was reaching over and buckling her in.

“It’s like a spaceship.” She spoke in wonderment.

“No, it’s like a piece of shit Chevy S10, but it’ll get us there…I think.” Joel responded, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. He put the truck in reverse, saying a silent goodbye to Bill and Frank before driving out of the compound.

A tape in the truck started to play, “Long Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt.

You and Joel locked eyes for a fleeting moment before you both looked away.

Joel drove a few miles but as night was steadfast approaching, he found a quiet part in the forest to make camp for the night.

Ellie was fast asleep in her own sleeping bag, and you and Joel were sitting far away from one another.

Your mind had gone numb as you clutched a bottle of red wine in your grasp. A bottle of Brunello, just as Bill had suggested. You tipped the bottle to the stars shining above, thanking Bill and Frank for being in your life before you took a sip. The wine burned down your raw throat, but you appreciated the warmth that settled in your stomach.

You looked over your shoulder at Joel, who was sitting up on his sleeping bag. His back was facing you, Shoulders slumped inwards. You weren’t sure what exactly came over you, or why you suddenly were walking towards him, but it was too late to turn back.

You slowly sank down on the sleeping bag beside him. Shoulders brushing, knees touching. You were holding the bottle outstretched to him. Perhaps this was your own way of extending the olive branch. Or, you were simply seeking comfort in the only way you knew.

Joel wordlessly took the bottle from you, his fingers brushing yours. He tipped the rim of the bottle back, taking a long sip before he set it down between his knees.

“Joel.” You whispered with uncertainty laced in your tone.

“Gwen.” He croaked out.

“Please. Please make the pain go away. Please, Joel. I’m begging you.” You confessed, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

Joel inhaled a shaky breath, slowly turning his chin in your direction so he could meet your gaze. “How can I make the pain go away, my sweet girl.” he whispered.

You were reaching for the bottle between his knees, grasping it before you took another swig. You set the bottle on the side before you were grabbing his hands, interlocking your fingers together. “Please don’t make me say it.” You pleaded with him.

Joel instinctively scooted himself closer to you. You could feel his warm breath fanning your cheeks. You could feel his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. “I’ll make the pain go away. Okay baby? I’ll make it go away.” He promised you.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his nose lightly brush against yours. You could taste the wine on his breath. He had given your hands a reassuring squeeze as he closed the small gap between you. This was a kiss you had never shared with him. Equally desperate, equally broken. Two people, two survivors, falling back on the one thing they knew could heal them. Joel kissed you slow, deep, tenderly. His hands had left yours only to gently cup your face in his warm palms. When he felt your tears freely fall, he gently brushed them away. “Shh. You’re okay. You’re okay Gwen. I got you. You’re safe. I’m here.” He whispered against your lips, tasting your salty tears and residue of wine on his tongue.

He slowly coaxed you into his lap, pulling the sleeping bag around both of your bodies. Concealing yourselves from the forest. His lips never left yours as he gently pushed your pants past your hips along with your panties. His own jeans were pushed past his thighs. You pushed his flannel down his arms before pulling his shirt over his head. You were both desperate for skin to skin contact. Your bodies craved to be as close as possible. Your own shirt was soon discarded as your chests were pressed flush together.

Joel’s arms were tightly wound around your body, your arms mirrored his own. You were hugging each other tightly, nails scraping against scarred skin as he slowly jutted his hips into yours. Harsh inhale, shaky exhale, breaths mingling. He fucked into you slow, deep. He pulled, you pushed. Tears streamed down your faces as you made broken love to each other. Salt mixed with saliva. Whimpers, broken moans were devoured endlessly. “I got you, you got me.” He whispered. “You got me, I got you.” You whispered back, completing your oath to one another.

You clenched, he twitched. Your bodies trembled as you came undone around each other. He stilled inside of you, holding you close as he pressed feather light kisses all over your face before he was resting his sweaty forehead against yours. Neither of you moved as he went soft inside of you. The idea of breaking the connection between your two entwined bodies was not an option. Neither of you could stomach it.

“I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I need you by my side. I can’t do this on my own. I’m incapable without you. I understand if you want to leave, and I won’t try and stop you if you do. I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve you, but please stay.” Joel finally spoke through the darkness. His eyes were searching yours. This was his final plea to you.

There was so much you wanted to say. It was on the tip of your tongue, teetering over the edge as your fingers threaded themselves into his sweat soaked hair.

“I’m not going anywhere, cowboy.”

Please don’t hurt me again.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @yuly@soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos @itskenziebb @lovers-liability @korynnekorynne @ems-alexandra @kirsteng42 @casssiopeia @novemberrain-writes @goodwithcheese @loquaciousferret @sarahhxx03 @777-wonders @bonglorddaryl @mirasantidotes @luvrking @finnsbubblegum @atinylittlepain @last-girl @pedrostories @yazsos @pedgeitopascal @wildemaven

[doll-elvis]

Okay, here goes: How did Elvis hide "little Elvis" while wearing those white jumpsuits on stage in Vegas. Any ideas? 😳

I love questions like these haha, thank you so much for the ask!! <3

and as confirmed by Marty Lacker and Lamar Fike and several photos of Elvis’ butt, he often wore dancer’s briefs underneath his jumpsuits. Elvis was known for going commando, and we have almost every movie he made as proof of that (iykyk) but sadly that didn’t translate to his concerts 😭

this pictured excerpt is from “Elvis and the Memphis Mafia” and it also shows why I take issue with Lamar Fike !! He was one of the main sources for Albert Goldman’s “Elvis” yet he constantly says that Goldman would alter what he said or didn’t tell the full truth- I still don’t understand why he would ever work with Goldman in the first place (Lamar did admit it was all for money so that explains it but I can’t believe he would let a book that had so many untrue/exaggerated things written about Elvis just for a check🤧)

like how are you going to complain about what Goldman wrote when you were his main source

but anyways- enjoy this picture of his visible briefs that I added to my family’s digital photo frame so every once and a while his butt pops up amongst all the family photos lmaoo

[jgroffdaily]

Photos from Out Magazine, Jelani Remy and heykc.ig, with a brief interview at the link above.

CHELSEA, Manhattan (WABC) -- June is Pride Month, a celebration and acceptance of the LGBTQ community, and on Monday night in Chelsea, there was no shortage of well-known celebrities at an event focused on Broadway.

The Out and Advocate Pride Cover Party: Pride of Broadway honored members of the LGBTQ+ and allied theater community.

It was put on by Equal Pride, the media company that publishes 'Out' and 'The Advocate' magazines. It celebrated the new magazine covers and the people that are featured on them.

"The covers of 'Out' and 'The Advocate' are celebrations of two of its biggest stars right now Jonathan Groff and Wayne Brady. So, we're excited to have him here at the event and to really celebrate the Great White Way, this is really a community that uplifts LGBTQ folks. We'd love to see them," Reynolds said.

Reynolds says, 'Merrily We Rolled Along,' starring Jonathan Groff, and 'The Wiz,' starring Wayne Brady, are both must-see shows.

"When I saw Jonathan Merrily, I was gasping," Reynolds said. "I think he's a shoe in for the Tony -- knock on wood. Hopefully, our covers can help with the visibility of the show. But you know, they have sold out shows and I think 'The Wiz' as well is also a hit. So you know, we're so proud of both of them."

[shapeshiftersvt]

Cryptid Collection Spotlight: Champ

We're going to be spending this week infodumping about the six cryptids we chose to feature in our Cryptid Collection! We'll be posting about the lore and origins, our thoughts, experiences, and relationships with all of these cryptids, and we encourage folks to share their own!

Today we're talking about our home state's very own lake monster, Champ!

👣The Cryptid Collection 🐍Champ Travel Poster 👥Cryptid Binders & Sportsbras 🧵Cryptid fabric designs

There is no shortage of sea serpents and lake monsters all over the globe, the most famous of all them of course residing in the depths of Loch Ness in Scotland. But did you know that our home state of Vermont has its very own lake monster?

Champ, like Nessie, is named after the lake it calls home — in this case, Lake Champlain, which borders northeastern New York to the west, southern Quebec to the north, and northwestern Vermont to the east. Though while sightings of Champ have been reported up and down the shores of Lake Champlain, in Vermont, at least, it's the city of Burlington that's adopted Champ as its own.

By absolute happenstance, of the six cryptids we chose to feature in our collection, three of them have origin stories or momentous first sightings, and three of them just kind of ... exist. Champ is one of the latter. While there have been sightings of unusual marine life in Lake Champlain as far back as 1609 by the lake's modern namesake, Samuel de Champlain, there hasn't really been one explosive or momentous moment in Champ's history.

Reports of a "serpent" in Lake Champlain have come in fairly steadily every few years since around 1819, with most encounters amounting to either seeing the serpent writhing around near the surface, or simply swimming along with multiple humps and sometimes its head visible above the water. The physical descriptions have often varied from sighting to sighting. It was described by some as being silver, while others claimed it was "drab", while a Captain by the name of Crum reported to the Plattburgh Republican newspaper in 1819 that it was black with several distinct markings, including a white star on its forehead and red band around its neck. Some report spikes along its back, some horns "like those of a huge catfish", some three teeth. While, as far as size goes, it's been reported to be as short as 20 feet long, to as long as 187 feet.

So is it any wonder that debunkers over the centuries have had a hard time narrowing down just what Champ "really" is? The most common theory might be a sturgeon, other theories include catfish, seals, otters, snakes, and, in the case of a reported "baby sea serpent" caught by a Chaplain Transportation Company employee, a salamander.

Still, for all the discrepancies between the eye witness reports, Champ has continued to keep both the region's and the country's fascination since those early reports. Even P.T. Barnum got in on the action, not once but twice! In 1873, Barnum contacted a reporter at the Whitehall Times offering $50,000 (around $1.3 million today) for anyone who could provide him with "the hide of the great Champlain Serpent", plus any additional funds needed in "securing the monster's remains".

That didn't quite pan out for him, though, so fourteen years later, in 1887, he announced to a reporter in Boston that he was still very interested in being the first person to possess physical proof of "the Lake Champlain sea serpent". Though his offered reward had dropped by that point to a mere $20,000 (around $650,000 today) while expanding his requirement to "dead or alive [...] providing that the serpent is more than fifty feet in length."

A brief aside: That 1887 article closes by calling Champ "his snakeship" and I, for one, will not be referring to His Snakeship, Champ, without his proper title from now on.

Barnum never got his proof, but with the advent of photography, there have been many photos snapped of His Snakeship, Champ, particularly with the modern advent of point-and-click personal cameras. The most notable was taken by a woman named Sandra Mansi on a family vacation in 1977. It appears to show the narrow neck and bulbous head of an animal curling up out of the water and around as if to look behind it. It remains one of the clearest photographs of His Snakeship, Champ to this day. And it is still not quite clear enough to definitively prove once and for all that His Snakeship, Champ is real.

For those who believe, His Snakeship, Champ, might be a true sea serpent — a long, relatively narrow-bodied marine animal that moves through the water like an enormous snake. Or it might be a marine dinosaur that's somehow managed survive in Lake Champlain's depths for over 10,000 years, like His Snakeship, Champ's Scottish cousin Nessie — a whale-like body, four pairs of flippers, and a long tail and equally long neck.

But whatever it is, what we know for sure is that it's a true Vermonter and we couldn't create a cryptid collection without including His Snakeship, Champ.