#it’s just a retelling it’s not a big deal
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Normally I'm fairly on board with "you've had a century to catch up with this material; it's not everyone else's responsibility to accommodate you on a matter you obviously don't feel much urgency about". But: Wicked is a deliberately revisionist retelling of The Wizard of Oz, so having seen the 1939 movie (which already made some significant departures from the original book) will only give you knowledge of the things the novel ends up revealing to be untrue or more complicated. And Wicked the novel is actually very different from the musical, especially the events depicted in the show's second act - the Elphaba/Glinda relationship is nowhere near as important to it, Fiyero is a completely different character, there's a big time jump, the ending is basically the opposite of what happens in the play, and in general the tone is much darker. So having read the book will not tell you a great deal about how the play shakes out. And while the musical is, indeed, decades old, that's still a big theatrical production. The whole point of the movie is that it is making this story accessible to people who aren't able to go to New York, London, or anywhere a regional production might be playing, or who can't shell out theater ticket prices.
What this means is that having arrived at the end of 2024 with no easy way of experiencing Wicked, the musical, except through these movies is not necessarily an indication that you just didn't care. And the studio has chosen to put a year's break between act I and act II. So while I remain pretty skeptical of spoiler-phobia (and I don't think one's enjoyment of Wicked really hinges on being surprised by the plot), I also don't think it's unreasonable to ask people not to casually reveal the second act's events.
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It has been 10 years since Persephone was separated from her mother and the first favor she asks of the guy controlling the exiles of her and her mother is not if he can relay info on how her mother is doing, since Demeter went from living as a god to living as a mortal in some far off mortal place and is therefore very vulnerable, but to instead ask about sending a letter to Hades, who is safe and sound in the same place he's been living for centuries before Persephone was even conceived.
#what was even the point in retelling a myth were the mother-daughter bond was a big deal if you're just going to do shit like this#lo critical#lo commentary
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I must speak my truth: I don't really mind when characters in historical fiction have unrealistically modern attitudes and ideas.
#especially if it's a retelling of myth/legend but even if it's just regular historical fiction#I just don't think it's a big deal sorry :(#well at least not inherently. obviously it can be done badly#x#miscellaneous
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ok i dont know why it never occurrd to me that issuns legs would be hella strong
Poncles are really strong just in general, but Issun's particularly ripped 'cause he travels a lot, a year of which he did so on his own, so without Ammy as a mount. It's probably like that for all the Celestial Envoys since they get out the most.
#Okami#Okami Issun#btw I'm also pretty convinced that Ishaku functioned primarily as basically moral support for Shiranui#'cause I just passed the first fight with Orochi#and Ammy seems genuinely shocked that Issun is able to lift (and yeet) that sake jug#which implies she either forgot what Poncles are capable of physically#(which is very likely she was stone for a century)#or that Ishaku wasn't as hands-on during their journey as Issun is#I'm figuring it's the latter because it's not revealed that Shiranui travelled alongside a Poncle until you get to Kamui#which means very few people actually knew about Ishaku#(even Issun seems shocked to learn this when you go through the spirit gate which also means Ishaku just never told him :/)#whereas Issun functions basically as Ammy's voice#I feel like if Ishaku functioned that way for Shiranui it would've gotten mentioned *way* before Kamui#either in the form of how Oki describes it (wolf and pint-sized warrior)#or in the form of the villagers from 100 years ago having assumed Shiranui could talk#which I feel like would've gotten mentioned in the retelling of the legend if that were the case#as a talking fucking wolf is kind of a big deal lol
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biblically accurate, semi-realistic candace or kandake, who was a nubian queen
image renders:
Incoming yap about the current genshin problem:
As a Chinese person swarmed by western media, Liyue means so, so much to me. Seeing the culture that I've been taught to be ashamed of all my life being represented so accurately and positively makes me incredibly happy. It was the first time I saw the famous landscapes that I've visited in person and recreated a fantasy game. Seeing characters wear clothes with similar designs to what I’ve worn and eating similar foods to what I’ve eaten, is indescribable. The euphoria I felt when I first climbed atop of Qingyun Peak and heard the music is something I wish I could experience again.
That being said, Sumeru was a mess, and Natlan is just depressing. What I would give to have people from SEA/SWANA, Latin America, Africa, and Indigenous groups etc. to feel the same way I did when strolling through Liyue.
HYV’s colorism isn’t just stifling their character designs; by whitewashing real-life people, real cultures and even their deities, they are inadvertently whitewashing history. They are taking from actual ethnic groups: learning their history and struggles, then retelling these narratives after replacing their people with bleached protagonists in orientalist clothing.
All this because of what? Out of touch beauty standards? The possibility of lower sales? Dehya is extremely loved in China and her fans donated thousands to a children’s charity in her name. Other Chinese companies like Lilith Games and Bluepoch don’t have this problem. Dislyte is able to consistently pump out gorgeous character designs with varying skin tones and Reverse:1999 makes accurate designs and does in-depth research into the cultures of their characters.
It’s a basic lack of respect.
I've heard that Iranian players were extremely happy and touched by their representation, and that's amazing. And most European, Chinese, and Japanese players are fine with theirs. I just wish this extended to the representation of people with skin tones that are darker.
HYV has shown that they are capable of making characters with darker skin tones and interesting designs, but they will only do that for npcs and enemies. Orientalism, culture mash-ups and inaccuracies across regions is unfortunately common in the game, but the problem with the unchanging pale color of playable characters reflects an obvious and sinister bigotry. I do personally believe that a lot of this has to do with the meddling of higher-ups; many playable characters look like they’ve been white-washed at the end of the process, and just from an art/design standpoint, they fit darker skin-tones much, much better.
It is impossible for Genshin to be a fully “fictional fantasy game” because they chose to bear the responsibility of incorporating real life cultures into their world-building. The criticisms about Sumeru and Natlan are what they brought upon themselves. If you don’t want to represent properly, don’t do it at all. You cannot take everything from a culture and leave their people out of it. They deserve the same respect and research as the region representing your own nation.
For the people who have seen themselves represented in media over and over again, or for those who do not care about being represented at all: even if YOU don't care, others do, and they have a damn good reason for it. This is a big deal, it isn’t too much to ask for, and I will be blocking racists. Peace.
#art#fanart#genshinimpact#genshinimpactfanart#digital art#lilliangst art#natlan#candace#3d#3d modeling#3d sculpting#3d art#3d model#blender sculpt#blender#blender 3d#nomad#nomad sculpt#candace genshin#kandake#digital sculpture#candace fanart#my art#sumeru
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Scary Dog Privilege w/ Ghost
PART 2
With the captain's away, you're left to deal with his intimidating lieutenant's temper.
Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, suggestive at the end, GuardDog!Ghost x Handler!Reader, smug!Ghost. Reader is careful of Ghost's boundaries. 1.3k words
Ghost's "outburst" (no idea how to call it tbh) is based on how @valiants drew them here and there. I just love this depiction so much, it's too relatable.
Part 1. Part 3.
Heaving a sigh, you glower at the shiny plaque adorning the mahogany desk you’re sitting at.
Cpt. John Price.
The aforenamed is away for a week, something about a higher-ups seminar. Left you in charge and, when you started to heft some heavy cardboards full of paperwork, he suggested you take his office too. It wasn’t conventional by any means, but what John Price wants, John Price gets.
You imagined that being the big boss would be fun.
You didn't expect his men to be… such a hassle.
Soap could not go one day without getting involved in a fight.
Gaz was sweet as pie to your face, only to use your own gratefulness against you later when he wanted something.
And Ghost. Oh, Ghost. From the very start, he had been playing with you like a cat plays with his food. Acting like your right-hand man. Always by your side, dutiful shadow. His relentless stare was like a torch against the nape of your neck, like the tangible weight of gloved hands on your shoulders. Following instructions but always with a snarky reply, and a smirk on his lips that you could guess behind the mask simply by the look in his eyes. Not mentioning the times you were alone together and he'd stop covering the bottom of his face. Made it easier to drink — tea but also bourbon —, to smoke, to tempt you with his scarred lips—
You shake your head in an attempt to refocus.
Your concentration doesn't last a mere minute that it's already shattered by the slam of a door.
A familiar slam and a familiar door, if that is even possible.
One of your men is acting out again.
You slip through the group massed in front of the room you need to access, ignoring their warnings and brushing off their attempts to make you turn back.
Knocking three times in rapid succession so he knows it's you, you glide in wordlessly, taking care to lock the door behind you so there won't be any interruption. You lean your back against it, taking a moment to assess the situation.
Your eyes linger on the knife lodged into the table before fixing upon the sizable being sitten nearby. Bending at the waist under an invisible force, his elbows rest on his knees while his fingers clutch the part of his mask that covers the back of his head. One word immediately comes to mind— overwhelmed.
His back is turned on you. You can almost distinguish the dark aura he exudes, an inky blackness that matches his t-shirt and his gloves.
You pull away from the door and join him, absently noticing that your steps are loud enough for him to locate you— force of habit.
“Ghost?”
A metaphorical outstretched hand.
Silence.
Stopping behind his back, you instinctively raise a tentative hand— to ensure his attention? To provide comfort?— before halting halfway, reconsidering. Pulling it back, you opt for a verbal approach instead.
“You really need to stop terrorizing the new recruits.”
You can’t help the fond, amused smile that stretches your lips as you say it.
Silence, still.
It doesn't deter you. After all, you’re no stranger to the need to drop verbal communication in favor of onomatopoeias or hand motions.
Nevermind that, you can fill the silence with retelling of your day.
As the quiet remains your only interlocutor for the third time in a row, you decide to cut your losses, at least for today. You’re unsure whether Ghost's in a mood where he'd rather stay alone, or one where he'd appreciate company but only the silent kind. Eyeing the knife again, you reckon it must be the former.
But as you turn around to leave, a pair of arms circle your waist, putting a swift end to your exit. The sudden embrace causes you to sway a bit, nonetheless you keep your cool.
“Changed your mind?”
A light gibe, essentially harmless, but provocating enough to prompt an answer.
He replies with a muffled groan, before pulling you closer and pressing his face into the small of your back. The contact, admittedly unexpected, but not unwelcome, sends shivers down your spine.
“That's certainly an… interesting position,” is all you find to say, picturing the expression someone would make if they were to stumble upon you two.
Twisting around a bit, you manage to see half of him, and use the view to reach back and pat his head. You quickly come to the conclusion that you’re stuck there for a while, same as if a pet cheetah nominated your lap for its nap.
A few moments later, a minute or an eternity, you end up chuckling to yourself. There's a grumble in your shirt, and it takes a second or two for you to comprehend that the grumble is actually words.
“What's so funny?”
You sigh pensively.
“Was thinking about the recruits you scared. They were shaking in their boots when I got here, you'd think they've seen worse than a ghost. But the most formidable thing here is a cuddle monster.”
The limbs around your torso release you unpromptedly, and as you pivot to face the lieutenant, he only has one step to take to corner you against a wall.
“S'that so?”
The sarcasm in his tone is familiar, yet you fail to see what he's getting at.
“... yeah?”
You don’t try to hide the interrogation in your voice; you want your confusion to be known.
He props one forearm on the wall, right by your head, and leans closer to murmur huskily:
“Do I scare you?”
You bite your lower lip not to laugh, his antics evoking some sort of dark, tortured protagonist. Yet, you'd be lying if you pretended this little display was leaving you indifferent.
Hell, you wish you were scared, because then you wouldn’t long to reduce the distance between your two bodies, already scandalously limited.
Wavering about your reply, you ultimately select the truth.
“Not anymore.”
You swear you can make out the corners of his mouth rise behind the mask.
“Good,” he appraises, laconic as ever.
Stricken by a timidity as sudden as it is intense, you start to ramble nervously, avoiding his intense stare.
“No but, for real, you'd laugh too if you'd seen their faces. They were so worried, imploring me not to go. It's like they were convinced you'd eat me alive.”
“Could be arranged.”
The suggestive line has the merit to make you stop dead in your tracks. His insufferable confidence fills you with irritation and arousal yet again.
You can’t let him win this one, you categorically refuse to let him have the last word. So you bring your face even closer to his and purrs:
“It's such a shame you’re wearing a mask, otherwise I would have already shoved my tongue down your—”
He rips off the bottom part of his mask with such haste that it would be comical if you weren't busy being squished between him and the wall the next second. He presses you against the stone the same way he presses his lips against yours— insistent, warm.
Once again, his hands settle on your hips like they belong here, and his thumbs slip under the cloth to stroke your hipbones.
His newfound urgency is the antipodes of the restraint he manifested until now, leaving you short of breath.
A call of your name pulls you apart, but barely, noses almost brushing. You shoot a look at the door just to see the handle lowers in vain. Letting out an amused and relieved scoff, you rest your forehead against Ghost's torso, thanking yourself for locking.
The voice persists, asking if everything's okay. You raise your head but, as you open your mouth to answer, Simon silently orders you to stay quiet with a forefinger across his lips. You frown and mouth silently— no, YOU shut up— before hollering to be heard.
“All good, thanks!”
Obviously, answering is a much better solution than a suspicious silence. Yet Ghost doesn't seem to share that opinion, as he stares at you unimpressed, but you kiss him before he can make any disagreeable comment.
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod fluff#ghost fluff#cod x reader#mine#cod fanfic#cod fic#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#call of duty x reader#cod#ghost cod#cod ghost#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#fluff
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Lore Olympus just pulled off the biggest whiff in webtoon history.
I promised I would choose one of two headlines and of course, this is the one we wound up with. But should we really be surprised? Rachel herself seemed to be telling on herself down to the minutes leading up to the finale, fully confirming to us that yes, she's been writing this comic at the last minute, by the seat of her pants, for ages now.
(that second one was literally posted TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE THE COMIC UPDATED.)
Welp, let's get into it. Possibly the last essay I'll ever write about this dumpster fire of a comic (but probably not, let's be real LOL)
CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE AHEAD!
Holy crap, where to even start with this. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew it wasn't ever going to live up to what I had hoped it would be years ago when I was still a diehard fan.
But I didn't think it was going to fall quite this hard. Despite bracing myself for the worst, Rachel has once again let my expectations down through a final display of explosive mediocrity and disappointment.
Yes, the episode is called "You're Welcome", and yes, that instant "ick" you're feeling is the exact same as what we're all feeling. This title plays into the dialogue later, but what a shitty, lowkey mean-spirited title for the series finale.
Now, before we get into the actual episode, the WT ads for this are just... so desperate and misleading.
They are trying SO HARD to hype up something that isn't there, and at the last minute to boot, because Rachel definitely hadn't written any of this ahead of time.
First off, the bit about the gods being in "eternal chaos" of course isn't a stake worth worrying over because Gaia literally does away with Ouranos in the first 5 panels.
Did you really think I was joking about that 5 panels thing?
That's it. That's the death of Ouranos. As mysteriously and quickly as he arrived, he was gone, after Gaia ripped out of him what appeared to be some purple sunny side up - but it's actually, in fact, Apollo.
And that's when we start to get some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen throughout LO. Remember when I said LO's dialogue was like Shenmue 3? Welp, the finale decided to continue that tradition and further fuel the suspicion that this entire thing was written by ChatGPT.
Oh, by the way, that "thank you, ma'am" was Artemis' first and last line of the episode. So once again, just like in Episode 248, we're completely robbed of her reaction to Apollo being a rapist piece of shit and the character development she could have had as a supporting character. The women in this "feminist retelling" really couldn't be more half-baked.
Gaia stumbles upon Persephone, and I'm not even gonna fucking bother showing the panels where Gaia says it's time to "make things right" because they literally don't matter. Why don't they matter? Because Rachel just had to get in one more pointless time skip.
We're shown a sequence of pointless images that I'm not gonna show as I don't want to waste my image limit on them, depicting Hades having a sad day because his small wife isn't with him and oh nooo what could have happened?? Did Persephone finally divorce him ??
Nah, we couldn't possibly have an actually happy ending in this comic. Instead we get a completely pointless phone conversation between Hades and Hecate-
Not only is the grammar particularly bad in this episode, but the actual script-writing is atrocious. We literally did not need this phone conversation to happen because-
-we're cutting BACK TO THE PRESENT THAT WE JUST CUT AWAY FROM FOR A 3 MONTH TIME SKIP. FOR NO REASON BESIDES SHOWING HADES BE SAD OVER SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY ISN'T THAT BIG A DEAL, AS YOU'RE ABOUT TO SEE.
I- I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY BRAIN IS THE LEGEND OF ZELDA ITEM GET MUSIC-
youtube
-BECAUSE THIS WHOLE THING SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE SOME CONTRIVED FETCH QUEST. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HADES AND PERSEPHONE HAVE PROVEN 'TRUE LOVE' IS REAL? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVEN'T USED 'LOVE' AS A FORCE FOR DESTRUCTION?? ARE WE FORGETTING THAT HADES MUTILATED A GUY IN THE NAME OF 'LOVE'? THAT PERSEPHONE LITERALLY INVADED THE HOME OF HADES' CANONICAL FIRST WIFE BECAUSE SHE FELT MILDLY THREATENED BY HER?
This whole concept of "true love" that Rachel is trying to convey feels so juvenile especially for a series that has sold itself as being mature and thought-provoking and progressive.
HAHAHA SO FUNNYYYYYYY why does Rachel write like this. this is, at best, the writing of a 13 year old on fanfiction.net, which I SHOULD KNOW, because I WAS ONE OF THEM. BUT I'M 28 NOW AND RACHEL HAS ANOTHER 10 YEARS ON ME.
Okay, this is the part where I'm CONVINCED Rachel either just mashed this into the episode in the MINUTES leading up to its release, or she used ChatGPT or something. Because NONE of this dialogue makes any sense. Beyond how stilted and lifeless it is (seriously, this dialogue reads like something from Empress Theresa) Gaia is clearly meant to 'replace' Erebus here which I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN EXPLAIN IS SO FUCKING DUMB, but ALSO what is even Persephone trying to communicate here? "That is true, but it was a deal I was willing to make and ties me to the Underworld. Please don't change me." What? Gaia hasn't even insinuated that she's going to do anything to Persephone, why is Persephone immediately jumping to this conclusion? What does 'changing' her mean? Is she asking Gaia not to force her to sacrifice something (which she never did)? Or is she asking Gaia not to strip her of her Underworld status? Because again, why is that even something Gaia would do?
Maybe this is harsh but I'm pretty sure even Empress Theresa is more coherent than this, what in the flying fuck is Gaia talking about?
"I can just see the potential for conflict! To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres." Like... okay, first of all, that second sentence isn't even a complete sentence, it's a dependent clause left hanging, but also what the fuck does this MEAN. Is she EXCITED for the conflict but then contradicting herself by saying she wants to relieve Persephone of that conflict? Or is she saying she can see the conflict it would cause for Persephone to have to perform duties in both realms and trying to insinuate that she's going to relieve her of those complications?
Here's what I think happened - I think that second 'sentence' wasn't supposed to be a sentence, but the start of the sentence to the next panel-
So with that theory in mind, the sentence becomes, "To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres, you are to spend three months in the Mortal Realm to do spring and the rest of the year in the Underworld. That seems fair to me."
It's still a very poorly written line of dialogue, but at least with that fix in mind it makes sense. But man, you can really fucking tell this episode was submitted at the last minute because that's a serious syntax error that should NOT have happened in this two-time-Eisner-winning comic.
Errors aside, it's clear that Rachel is following through on having Persephone spend only three months in the Mortal Realm, rather than the traditional six. There ARE other translations that have that number closer to four, but those four are the time she spends in the UNDERWORLD, meaning she's always spending either equal or MORE time in the Mortal Realm. Of course, Rachel doesn't want her self-insert small wife power fantasy to actually have to be separated from Hades despite this being a retelling of The Abduction of Persephone, so instead of her spending three months in the Underworld, she's now spending them in the Mortal Realm, literally doubling the MINIMUM amount of time (four months) she was originally meant to reside in the Underworld.
But oh no, apparently those three months are STILL NOT SHORT ENOUGH FOR PERSEPHONE-
Of course, Rachel "Retcon" Smythe had to have her cake and eat it too. I always worried something like this was a possibility, but I never thought she would actually prove me right - not only is Persephone only separated from Hades for three months out of the year, but actually he can visit her any time he wants to, so really, they're not separating at all.
I think Rachel needs to look up "reunion" in the dictionary, because if you can visit each other any time, then that means the 'reunions' are no longer special occasions. This completely removes any semblance of depth or meaning from all of the storytelling leading up to this, all of it with the expectation that this was a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, because that's what Rachel said it was going to be. At this point it's safe to say that Rachel has zero business attempting to "retell" mythological stories, because she doesn't even seem to grasp the concept of why they were written the way they were to begin with. Either that, or she really just doesn't care, and the only reason for making LO a Greek myth comic at all was to propel her career.
This also brings me back to those promotional ads, the other one that posed the question, "Will sacrifice be enough to bring these two back together?"
This is stating the obvious, but I need to make it perfectly clear - Hades and Persephone have never sacrificed a single thing. The only thing they could POSSIBLY quantify as a "sacrifice" is "not being tied at the hip for a few hours", because even Persephone going on the equivalent of a work trip next door is apparently enough to make Hades sad as we saw in the 3 month time skip panels. Why is Hades so sad and lonely if he can visit her any time? Why is he acting like he hasn't seen her in years when he's actually on his way to reunite with her? Why is Hecate calling to ask him if he's "okay" as if he JUST got separated from her, but actually he's about to literally go to the Mortal Realm to reunite with her?
Hades hasn't 'sacrificed' a damn thing, neither has Persephone. They've both always gotten exactly what they wanted, even at the cost of breaking the story's own established rules. Their 'sacrifice' is equivalent to what billionaires think are 'sacrifices' when they can't buy another yacht or go on that third overseas vacation for the month.
And even outside of this episode, when have these two ever sacrificed anything?
I've tried so hard to think of what sacrifices have been made by the characters within LO, and I genuinely can only think of one - and that was when Artemis chose to go to the Mortal Realm with Persephone instead of staying with her family in Olympus. That was a genuine, selfless sacrifice, made by a character who has been shelved in favor of focusing on the self-centered pink and blue airheads.
Being forced to be apart for a couple days to do the equivalent of a day job and whining about it the whole time is not a 'sacrifice'. Neither of these characters have ever sacrificed anything, they just feel like sacrifices because they have the integrity and empathy of soggy cardboard.
sigh Anyways, we're back in the present and Hades and Persephone immediately decide they're gonna have sex because ofc, and then we get this gem of a panel-
MMMMMM
FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JOKE
For some reason it's just a common thing for people to just be in Hades' home, and they can't seem to get any privacy as a result of this, but I digress. Turns out they still need to have that coronation for Persephone.
There is... so much wrong in these three panels.
First, to state the immediate issues - why the fuck are they mentioning Apollo at Persephone's coronation? Like first of all, no shit Apollo isn't gonna be there, but also, if this is supposed to be an event for and about Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld, then why in the WORLD is Apollo even being mentioned? This is supposed to be a "feminist retelling" where the victims are empowered and heal from their trauma, but LO once again can't try to show any sort of positive growth for the victims without bringing up the assaulters and giving them screen time. It just goes to show that Rachel's idea of "healing" is purely rooted in the revenge, and not the growth. It's a very high schooler approach to this subject, hellbent on showcasing how all the meanies from the past are losers now and life just sucked for them forever, but inadvertently proving its own point that the victims haven't and can't move on because the narrative is spending so much time on caring what's going on with the abusers. It's the "I don't care! Look at how little I care! I'll prove it to you by putting in the effort of showing you how little I care!" approach, it doesn't really feel like moving on.
It's not about how Persephone and his other victims could have grown and healed, no, Rachel always needs to highlight just how much worse the bullies and haters and abusers are doing to make the victims seem like they've healed by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I can understand wanting to showcase the downfall of a character like Apollo, but this just... isn't the right context for that? Because it's once again taking attention away from the victim to focus on the abuser. It's once again spending screentime on the voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.
And speaking of, what the fuck is this punishment even? I knew Rachel wasn't gonna be able to resolve this plotline properly, she never had the capability to, but ... community service? Are you fucking for real? What is this even a punishment for even? Was this EXCLUSIVELY the SA, or does this ALSO include his attempts to overthrow Zeus by poisoning him, nearly killing Daphne, Eris, Eros and Psyche, trapping Eros and Psyche in an enchanted basement, and framing his father's 'death' on his half-sister? Because if so, how in the world is anyone content with community service? He hasn't even been turned into a mortal, HE'S STILL A GOD, so what's to stop him from going "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDERMAN" and trying something else? How is this a reasonable resolution in ANY context?
This is why I talked at length about what an issue it was to hide what Apollo really admitted to. Because now we really don't know what exactly he confessed to, and thus we can never really see the point of views of the victims outside of just Persephone - and we still don't even get Persephone's, because she just walks away from him and then he gets eaten by Ouranos and next we see of him is him doing community service! Once again, any emotional development that could be given to Persephone and the other victims is stripped away to make room for the point of views of the oppressive men. In this, the two-time-Eisner-winning "feminist comic" that is LO.
And that brings us to the "where are they now" segment. Yes, as we all feared, there's a "where are they now" segment, and it's as rushed and underwhelming as we ought to have expected it to be.
There is just... so much to unpack here, and yes, all of it is delivered in the dumbest way possible that only raises more questions than answers.
So Rhea and Metis are just back and we're not gonna talk about the implications of them being alive again?
Dionysus is a 3 month year old in the body of a teenager / young adult, and his mom is just alive now because Hades conveniently got his hands on more ambrosia and brought her back to life offscreen? But somehow Triptomelus and Hedone are still child-sized relative to their ages?
How did they 'heal Zeus'? And why is he so content with losing his power as King and Apollo being sentenced to community service after making an attempt on his life? How does he feel about the letter that Hera gave him? Did he even read it?
Where the fuck is Hebe in all of this? Is she okay? Do people still think it was her who put Zeus in a coma? Or did Apollo confess to that, too?
You're telling me Hera and Echo are just in a relationship now despite the fact that Hera is literally racist towards nymphs and there is ZERO reason for them to have a relationship in the comic beyond the fans making gratuitous headcanons out of it? How is Rachel, a bisexual woman, so bad at writing actual lesbian relationships and giving them the same amount of attention as the heterocis ones without shoving them into the background as props for insincere queer rep? And what about Hera herself? How did she overcome her role as the Goddess of Marriage to finally divorce Zeus?
"Ares is still a dog!" Haha! Ares is still a Persephone simp! Happy end!
Why is Eros just standing there smiling at the camera struggling to be seen past Hedone who's just floating right in front of him? You're telling me there wasn't a better place to put her out of that entire panel?
"Hades and Thanatos have been making more time for each other. Sometimes they even have a conversation." I'm sorry, is this supposed to be funny? The man abused Thanatos for years, treated him as just a lowly employee when he was literally his adopted son, and now you're trying to play it off as a joke that they're "making more time for each other"? What the fuck is this?
TGOEM disbanded? Why? What about the women who were genuinely a part of it?
Also, Artemis and Selene are just good friends now because reasons? Because they're both affiliated with the moon, I guess? Why is Selene even in this comic-
"They are still looking for Kassandra". Who? And why? This feels like such a last minute addition to acknowledge a character that the comic spent WEEKS foreshadowing only to have her finally appear as a pointless McGuffin, but it's so last minute that it does nothing. I'm assuming it's Eros and Psyche looking for her, but like... why can't they find her? They're gods, tracking down one mortal shouldn't be that difficult LOL ???
And also, where the fuck is Leto?? You're telling me she was an accessory - maybe manipulating Apollo, maybe not - but we don't see what happened to her? Is she just back to being a social outcast then? jesus christ this comic isn't finished-
Kassandra is where the "where are they now" sequence ends, and we're treated to one final horribly written dialogue scene between Hades and Persephone, where they tell each other how much they love each other in a desperate attempt to convince the audience that this is, in fact, a romance.
There's this thing in romances called chemistry, and if you're good at writing it, you shouldn't have to write dialogue like this. You should be able to see how much the characters love each other through their actions, through their small behaviors around each other. It's not always about what they say out loud, it's about what they don't have to say, because when two people really share that close of a bond based on love and trust and chemistry, words often aren't necessary.
Hades and Persephone do not have that chemistry. It has been apparent for years now, but this final exchange really is the nail in the coffin. There are no microexpressions or subtle emotions, no subtlety in their word choice, and nothing unique setting their voices apart. It's all just "wow thank you for being such a wonderful amazing partner, you are amazing and I love you" word salad that has to do all the heavy lifting for the completely non-existent chemistry that's been at its absolute worst throughout this entire season.
And worst of all, despite this story trying so hard to be focused around Persephone, around her story, her trauma and her healing, her voice... it's still all just about Hades. In the end, she's thanking Hades, and forcing him to say "you're welcome". All of it is trying so hard to convince us that Hades has been a positive addition to her life, that she 'owes' so much to him, but we've obviously seen plenty throughout the comic that begs to differ. And even if he were a better person than he is, it still doesn't change the fact that once again, the men are being held up above the women, with the women being grateful to the men who choose them. LO can try its hardest to convince people that it's feminist, but it is, at best, reinforcing the very same structures of the patriarchal system that it claims to despise and rebel against.
We do get one line from Hades acknowledging Persephone's part in the relationship-
-and it falls so fucking flat because it's still about him and what she does for him, and because nothing about their relationship was built on any sort of organic chemistry. There was a lot more chemistry back in S1, but it was still predicated on Hades lusting after a vulnerable 19 year old girl.
Yep, and that's it. That's the end.
Except it isn't because Rachel wanted to try and be smart by including an 'epilogue' that's really just stretching the episode out pointlessly for another few panels. And of course, we had to get another time skip, just a final dose of salt in the wound, this time to years ahead when we inevitably had to reconnect with Persephone and Hades in the future after Melinoe was born.
To recap, Melinoe doesn't remember... because Hades had Morpheus erase her memories.
This plotline has really started to give me the ick because it actually feels very familiar. Bear with me here, because I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent about my own original work, but it's because I wrote a plotline exactly like this years ago.
There's this... turning point, in Time Gate: Reaper, when the main character Uzuki is kidnapped by a Reaper (see: undead) who wants to experiment on her in the hopes that he can somehow gain her abilities to bond her soul with others (which later allows her to literally possess people after she becomes a Reaper herself). Mitsuhiro, the male deuteragonist who kickstarts the plot by telling Uzuki she's got a limited amount of time left to live (which he knows thanks to his magical death timers that mark themselves on his skin), feels an immense amount of guilt after finding out she was kidnapped by the Reapers (at this point she's been gone for three months), as they were originally after him; he worries that she was made a target simply due to him associating himself with her, and vows to rescue her.
With the help of some other spunky teenagers and anime trope characters, Mitsuhiro does eventually rescue Uzuki - but for the three months she had been gone, she had been tortured, abused, and experimented on, causing her mind to split and for her to lose any sense of awareness of who Mitsuhiro or her other friends were. She was no longer herself after the hell she had been through.
Mitsuhiro's solution to this is to have Springlock - another Reaper with motivations that are not yet clear to the cast - erase her memory. This is not a light decision that comes without consequences - for the remaining duration of the story, Uzuki is plagued by night terrors and panic attacks, unable to really remember what happened to her aside from whatever brief flashbacks her brain recalls in its haze of memory loss. She is traumatized, both physically and mentally. She has lost three months of her life and memories, and doesn't know how to explain why she's covered in scars that are still healing, why she's missing organs, why she's now blind in one eye, and why the sound of scraping metal and ticking clocks gives her panic attacks. Mitsuhiro has convinced her friends that she's suffering from memory loss due to trauma, but only he knows the truth that he forcefully took her memories away from her, without her consent. This was not the right choice to make. It was not noble of him, it was not a grand gesture of love, he made a decision on her behalf without her consent that has now resulted in her becoming a nervous wreck. Sure, she still would have had PTSD if she remembered what happened, but at least she would know why and could then seek adequate help. Without those memories, she has nowhere to begin to heal. And so we see the consequences of this throughout [AFTERBIRTH] and even the upcoming Thread of Fate. It is a long-term problem that is not going to be solved overnight, especially not with Mitsuhiro withholding information from her.
Reading about Melinoe having dreams about her experiences trapped in Tartarus with Kronos ... it felt familiar enough that I had to talk about why the insinuations of this are so fucked up. I know there are people who are gonna handwave it away as "she's just a kid", "these are gods so what does it matter", etc. but ... it just feels like such an oversight to have Hades effectively erase her memory of her trauma and then hint at them still being present in her mind through her dreams. She did not ask for that. And the fact that she's now dreaming about it all does not bode well. But we're supposed to think Hades made the correct choice, regardless.
But none of this is effectively expanded on or explained, because we get one final scene of Melinoe and Demeter visiting Persephone, who has just given birth to... Makaria?
So it turns out Persephone and Hades are just able to have biological children now. Don't know why, but of course they both look exactly like Hades.
What I was really confused by though is the fact that it's Makaria and not Brimos. Do you remember Brimos? The child that was foreshadowed in Hades' original fantasy dream sequence about his future children about Persephone?
Either Rachel completely forgot about him, or she saw all the criticism over the fact that Brimos isn't a confirmed child of Hades and Persephone (rather, an epithet that can apply to basically any Underworld god including Persephone and Hades) and that her "research" was dependent on a book she read when she was 13 and decided to axe that. But she went to the effort of establishing that all the dreams Hades had were , in fact, canon visions of the future, so good job Rachel, you created yet another plothole on top of the hundreds of others.
And that's where the series ends, on a final nuclear-family-photo of Persephone, Hades, Melinoe, and Makaria. Of course, Dionysus and Thanatos aren't present in this shot because this is Lore Olympus and only biological children count /hj
Why Rachel couldn't move the "the end" portion to THIS part, I don't know, but I'm also expecting way too much of the person who finished this 20 minutes before it was due.
So that's it. Six years and that's what we get. I didn't expect much, but I was still incredibly disappointed, as were many others who walked away from this dazed and confused. Maybe it's all the "haters" deserve at this point. But what of the fans? While many of them are celebrating this ending at best and tolerating it at worst, I can't help but think of the fans of this comic who hung on for so long in the hopes it would "pay off", just for it to go out as gloriously as a wet fart.
As for me, I have such mixed feelings about Lore Olympus ending, but none of them pertain to the comic itself. Most of what I'll miss from this comic isn't the comic itself, but the people who have made reading it every week so fun, the artists and writers who have enriched the content with their own interpretations of what could have been, and the experiences of being part of such an amazing community made up of people who are as long-term-obsessed about this piece of media as I am.
I get people who ask me a lot if it's "worth it" to be so engrossed in the LO slander, who assume that I'm going to "regret" ever being a part of it all... but from where I'm standing right now, I couldn't ask for a better view.
Even if I didn't love every minute of it, everything I have here I owe to this comic. This stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing, pile of shit comic.
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“Babe! I’m here!” Eddie’s voice call from the front door.
You were currently in the kitchen trying to remove the cookies you were baking from the oven while at balancing your almost 12 month old daughter on your hip. “Kitchen, Eds!” You call out.
“Something smells sweet in here,” he makes his way into the kitchen, bending to face level with Olivia who grins back and then proceeds to smother her chubby face in kisses. “Oh and you made cookies! They smell good too.”
You roll your eyes at his lame joke. He doesn’t see as he raises his head back to yours and presses his lips to yours. You kiss him back and pull back.
“So where is it?”
“Sweetheart, you should really trust me more with the shopping.” He says, placing the shopping bag onto the counter.
You carry Olivia to her highchair and gently buckle her in. “Well, last time I sent you to the store for pie filling, I specifically told you Apple pie filling and you grabbed cherry.”
Eddie paused at your retelling, slowly raising his hands in defense. “All I heard was pie filling. I just assumed that it didn’t matter.”
“Of course it mattered! My dad is allergic to cherries, Eddie. You know that.”
“Okay well, most of the time I don’t fuck these things up. So are you ready to see it?”
You placed a few cheerios and sliced up fruit onto the highchair plate for your daughter and looked up at your husband who removed the small Halloween costume out from the bag and held it out the for you to see.
“Eddie what is that?” Your hands dropped to your hips when you realized what you were looking at. It certainly didn’t look like the one you had described to him before.
“It’s Liv’s costume! Just look babe! She’s gonna be the cutest, heavy metal rocker ever! I even got a little inflatable guitar!”
You really tried to hide the frustration that was clear in your features as you stared at your husband.
Taking a deep breath, you move forward a few steps towards him, who still looks excited about the costume and ignoring your look.
“Eddie,” you say, irritation clear in your voice. “That’s not the right costume. You were suppose to get her the bumble bee costume, remember?”
Eddie goes still as he tries to remember the conversation you two had from earlier this week. “Well, I thought- wait, I’m sorry why did she have to be a bumble bee exactly?”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose with your eyes shut. “Because Nancy told me she’s dressing Becca as a lady bug and we thought it would be cute for Liv to be a bumble bee.”
Eddie scoffed. “It’s No big deal, okay? Maybe she can be a little bumble bee next year?”
“Eddie, she won’t be able to fit that costume by next year.” You argued, turning away from him and tried focus on your daughter who was happily eating her fruits and cheerios.
“Well I guess we could-.” Eddie replies, checking the small digital watch on his wrist. The store would be closing in about twenty minutes. Now he knew he would be in deep shit. “Alright let’s not panic, I have an idea.”
You look at Eddie with a questioning gaze, but before you can even get an answer out of him, he’s flown back out through the door of the trailer. Leaving you and your daughter in the kitchen.
You let out a sigh as you move to place a few more cheerios on the highchair plate. “He better come up with a brilliant idea.” Olivia just giggles in return.
A few hours pass as you and Eddie are walking hand in hand, with little Olivia tucked into your hip. The streets were filled with children running around from house to house with the challenge of collecting the most candy.
You were just thankful that she wouldn’t have to worry about all the sweets that would later cause cavities and unaffordable visits to the dentist at such a young age. You and Eddie agreed that she could have one piece, but not too much. And that would be her first Halloween treat.
You can feel your husband’s hand lightly squeezing yours as your small family continues to walk. But before you could move your head to face him, you hear his voice.
“Listen, sweetheart, you were right.” His voice low. “I should have double checked with you before buying that costume. I’m an idiot, I know.”
You just roll your eyes. “You’re not an idiot, Eds. But I really would like for you to just make a list of what you need whether it’s for the grocery store or a costume store. That way we don’t have these issues.”
The metal head just nods, understandably. “So, you’re not mad mad, right?”
You shook your head. “Not as mad as I should to be, it’s partially my fault. I could have gone out to grab the costume myself and had you watch Liv.”
The two of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. “Is that our little Miss Munson?!”
Olivia is now squealing with excitement, trying to escape your tight embrace. Slowly, you set her down on her feet and watch as she wobbles with full speed into the arms of Joyce.
Joyce and Jim decided to spend Halloween at home, handing out candy and looking forward to see their granddaughter (yes Jim and Joyce finally tied the knot!) pass by.
Joyce gathers the little “Munson Munchkin” (Jim’s nickname for his granddaughter) into her arms for a tight little embrace and pulls her gently back at arms length to inspect her costume. “What do we have here?”
“It looks like, um,” Jim was also having a hard time figuring it out. “She’s, uh, Y/N what is your daughter suppose to be?”
“Well as you can see,” Eddie chimed in. “She is a rockstar with-“
“Bumblebee wings.” You finished off. The looks they gave you weren’t what you were expecting but hey, it wasn’t negative.
“Oh,” Joyce still looks confused but still manages a smile. “So she’s a heavy metal rockstar and bumblebee hybrid?”
“Yep, that’s right.” You replied, trying not to meet you father’s confused look.
“Well she’s just the cutest!” Joyce smothers more kisses onto the toddler’s cheeks.
You look to Eddie who beams that familiar smile of triumph. That same smile that always makes you forget any argument or reminds you of just why you love him.
———————————————————————————
I would like to thank @lovelythoughtfulcupcake for reminding me about this one shot I had saved in my drafts! Hope you all like dad!eddie!
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Pinky Promise 3
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Word count: 2K
Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader
A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!
The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.
Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”
It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.
“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.
“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”
He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”
You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”
This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.
Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.
“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.
“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.
“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”
Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”
You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”
Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”
Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”
It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.
You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.
The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”
You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”
“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”
It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”
“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.
“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.
When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.
“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.
“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.
“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”
And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.
After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.
“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.
“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.
“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”
Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.
It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.
But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.
“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.
“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.
“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.
You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.
“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.
“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.
“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.
“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.
“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.
“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”
He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”
You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”
He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”
“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”
Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.
“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”
You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”
Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”
Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”
You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers
#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#topgun maverick#jake seresin x you#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#hangman top gun#chelsea writes
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Hello! I just found your blog a couple days ago and I love your stuff!! I like that you mark everything as either being romantic or platonic (as an aromantic, I would like to say you are a saint for doing that) , and all the little pictures and memes bring me immense joy
I was wondering if you could do a platonic alastor x reader where reader makes/made a deal with Alastor. Like full on, sold-their-soul-to-him, no-takesies-backsies kind of a deal.
And like, maybe Alastor doesn't care about them that much at first, but they slowly grow on him? And reader doesn't like alastor that much either, but they have the same dark, chaotic energy and they just sorta click eventually. (and maybe some Rosie in there too??)
Omg you're so sweet for this 😭 Some of the platonic ones are my FAVE! Plus, I get that not everyone is looking for romance 🤧
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
Plus a little Rosie X Reader
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
TW: Cartoonish antics, little bit of violence, Alastor being Alastor, Reader lost their soul
Description: ☝️⬆️
You didn't think Alastor was serious when he said he wanted your soul, who tf does that??
Alastor, that's who, you dummy
To be fair, you totally thought you were going to win but imagine your shock when chains suddenly appeared on you like a leash
Bullshit bullshit bullshit
He has you working at the hotel with Husk and Niffty but you go out of your way to mess things up for him
If you're gonna be his pet then you're going to be a nightmare pet
Maybe he'll decide you're not worth the trouble and give your soul up?? That's a thing that happens right?
So you do little things to fuck with Alastor, big enough to annoy him but subtle enough to be an accident
He wants you to make him tea? Oops!! You've poured salt instead of sugar and now he's choking down salty tea because he's too proud to admit you pulled one over on him
Not him giving you a death glare from over his cup
"How is it~?"
"Delightful."
He wants you to wash the dishes? Fine but you're going to drop and break his favorite mug and every replacement he gets
You're so clumsy
You have to carry his bags?? Fine then-
No, you know what? Niffty can carry the bags she's much more strong and sturdy than she looks
You're no fun
The point is, if Alastor is going to make your life miserable because he owns your soul, you're going to give it right back
You don't even make the punishments fun for him
He doesn't stop seeing you as his worst deal until your both suddenly faced against the same foe
Some idiot Vox hired to pick a fight with Alastor and for some reason Alastor picked you to handle it
Watching you play with your prey reminded Alastor of himself, giving him a few good chuckles
By the time you were done, your opponent had practically pissed themselves to death, terrified by your maniacal nature
After the fight while you're being patched up, you and Alastor share a few laughs as you retell what happened
And then you two laugh about Vox
And then you two laugh about how your opponent died
Nobody else is laughing you sick fucks
There's a change in your dynamic after that day, the two of you becoming partners in crime
Those pranks and punishments you two used to use on each other? Now you're combining forces to use them on everyone else
Everyone thought things would be better once you two put aside your differences
But this is so much worse
They find excuses to just send you two out of the hotel so they can have some peace and quiet
You just feed off each other's worst energies and keep making each other worse
The only mitigating force for you two is Rosie, she's the only one who can get you two to slow it down
"Alright! Hold it!"
Not the two of you being scolded by her, looking like two little kicked puppies because Rosie won't let you two blow up a shop
But the owner is so sleazy!!!
No, you two can't pretend to be repairmen so you can break into people's homes and destroy their tvs
She won't even let you write fake fan mail to Vox, slowly gaining his trust as his number one fan only to shatter his heart in some devastating and public way
Wtf is wrong with you two
She just knows how best to handle the two of you and doesn't really mind how twisted the two of you get to be
She finds it adorable
You are besties by that point, an unstoppable force that wreaks havoc on anything in your path
Oh and sweet Rosie is there too
Holding the leashes for you two
You almost forget he owns your soul and so does he most days, the two of you seeing each other more and more as equals
Or at the very least, friends 🧡
Maybe you've earned your soul back
Nah, keep it
This was so fun! I really hope you liked it!
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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-[txt; finding out you’re a vampire
P: txt x gn reader (seperately) | G: fluff, reaction | Inc: roommate au, vampire reader, finding out y/n's secret, a bit of overthinking of Soobin's part, Soobin finding blood on y/n's clothes, second pov, non-idol au, nothing too graphic | Wc: 770 | W: blood, vampires | R: G
Min's notes: Just in time for spooky season! Lmao jk, I had this reaction written down in my notebook for like a year or so, but now felt like a good time to post it. Unofficial hiatus over?
Choi Yeonjun | 최연준
He walks in on you restocking that one mini fridge in your room, drinking through a blood bag and just freezes. You’ve never told him what the mini fridge was for, and he just assumed it was for drinks, or snacks, or whatever else someone would normally keep in them.
Sue him for not coming to the conclusion that he was living with a supernatural being.
Immediately gives you the sheepiest of smiles and backs out of the room, only a little scared of the notion that one of his closest friends is a vampire. And could drain him like a capri-sun if they so wished. Which, now that he thinks about it…
“Hey, y/n? Would you ever—”
“No, Yeonjun. I’m not biting you, so don’t even think about it.”
“Okay, okay~ not thinking about it…but if you had to—”
“Choi Yeonjun!”
Choi Soobin | 최수빈
Poor thing, he panics when he spots blood over the clothes in your laundry as he’s passing by your room. That’s clearly too much to be normal, right? Right? But he’s home alone, leaving him with nothing else to do but overthink about it until you come home from your afternoon shift.
You walk back inside, the tiniest hint of blood on your sleeve and Soobin zeroes in on it immediately.
“What’s this? What’s been happening, y/n? Are you okay?” There’s no room to avoid his questioning, physically or metaphorically and Soobin’s clearly not going to relent. Not when he’s this worried about you. So you begin your explanation, sitting him down and telling him that you are, in fact, a vampire. And he takes the news rather well.
Or as well as an overthinking but well-meaning roommate can.
Choi Beomgyu | 취범규
He spots something strange outside, and simply refuses to believe that that was you. It just couldn’t possibly be you, right? But the thought haunts him for weeks; everything’s suspicious now. You like walks at night? He wonders if you’re out to find blood. You put on a little more sunscreen than the average person? That’s it, you have to be something that isn’t human.
You’re the one who notices and calls him out on his behaviour, ambushing him in the kitchen and prodding at him to tell him what’s up.
“I think you’re a vampire!” He blurts out, and Beomgyu thinks he’s fucked up when you’re just silent for a few seconds.
Because he is right, you just have no idea how he got to that conclusion in the first place. So you nod, confirming his suspicions and ask him how on earth he even figured it out. Which prompts an entire retelling of Beomgyu’s month-long freak out.
Kang Taehyun | 강태현
He’s not the kind of person to make a big deal out of it, especially when being a vampire is just what you are and nothing more. Though he does pay more attention to your more nocturnal lifestyle, but he pins it down initially to you just being a night owl and enjoying being out at night more.
Plenty of people function better at night, after all.
When he sees you taking a sip out of a flask, he asks what it is and your hesitation to answer gives him reason to think. Are you drinking something out of the ordinary? He tries not to look too nosy, because again, it’s not really his business. Unless you’re hurt, you’re free to drink whatever you want.
Until you take it upon yourself to make it his business.
You’re the one to initiate the conversation, letting Taehyun know that yes, you’re a vampire, and that you’re more than okay with him asking questions. Frankly you were surprised he hadn’t been asking you at all, though a little grateful.
Huening Kai | 휴닝카이
Bless him, it’s Kai’s curiosity that makes him pick up on the smallest details. He catches sight of your fangs, at throws an off-hand comment about having a vampire for a best friend. Oh how right he is, and it takes everything you have to surprise him with the truth behind his words.
You might as well tell him at this point, he’s so unbelievably close yet somehow still has no idea. Likely because he, like Taehyun, also enjoys the peace that comes with minding your own damn business.
“So… I was right?” He asks when you finally take it upon yourself to tell him the truth after far too long of watching him be none the wiser. “Vampires are real, and you’re a vampire?”
You nod. “Simple as that. Not so curious anymore?”
“Not really?” He shrugs, “unless I find something to ask you about.”
You’re sure he will, soon enough.
© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025
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#Writer Elf Minnie#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#ultkpopnetwork#bjnet#txt reactions#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt scenarios#yeonjun fluff#soobin fluff#beomgyu fluff#taehyun fluff#hueningkai fluff#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader#beomgyu x reader#taehyun x reader#hueningkai x reader
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SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN
A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.
A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.
Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods
Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst
Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.
Playlist:
🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn
🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie
🌸Call Me-ShineDown
🌸Granite-Sleep Token
🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift
Title: Every Last Seed
He goes by many names.
He always has.
Hades.
Ploutos.
King of the Underworld.
God of the Dead.
Bringer of Death.
Lord of Darkness.
But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-
Mine.
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"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.
"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"
"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."
Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.
"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"
His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.
Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.
Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.
"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."
Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.
He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.
"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."
Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.
"Great. What is it?"
Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.
It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.
"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"
Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.
"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"
Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.
"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.
Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.
"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"
He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.
Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.
Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.
"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."
Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.
After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."
Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"
His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.
"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."
Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.
Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.
God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.
No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.
A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-
Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.
"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."
Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.
"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."
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He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?
Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.
And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.
Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.
"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.
You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.
"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."
Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.
"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.
Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.
The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.
"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."
He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.
"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."
"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.
Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.
That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.
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He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.
It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.
Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.
Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.
It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.
"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."
"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.
You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.
Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.
He's grateful for that.
"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.
"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."
You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.
You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.
Fuck, you're adorable.
"I heard Zeus came to see you."
"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.
He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.
"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.
His dick swells at the thought.
He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.
"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"
He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.
"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."
He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.
"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.
You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.
"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.
"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"
An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.
You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.
He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.
"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."
Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.
"Because of our marriage?"
Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."
One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.
Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.
Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.
You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.
"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."
He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.
"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."
Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.
"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."
You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.
He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."
His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.
"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."
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"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."
The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.
"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.
The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.
"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."
"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.
You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.
"Don't call me that."
You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"
"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."
"Oh, but I think you do."
You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.
"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.
You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.
Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.
His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.
Fucking. Hades.
Brother of Zeus.
God of the Dead.
He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."
Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.
"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.
He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.
"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."
He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.
When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.
"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.
You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.
"Will I see you again, your highness?"
You swore he smiled beneath the hood.
"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."
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"You can't have her, you know."
Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.
He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.
"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."
Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.
His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.
"Nephew."
Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Uncle."
Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"
Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.
"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."
"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."
Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.
"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."
And with that, he was gone.
Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.
Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.
"I'm surprised you came."
Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.
"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."
The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.
"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."
Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.
Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.
His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.
Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.
"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."
Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.
Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.
"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."
He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.
"There. Happy?"
Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.
When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.
"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."
There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.
Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.
"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.
The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.
Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.
Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.
The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.
He paused, freezing, and listening.
There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.
Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.
It almost sounded like-a gasp?
Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.
Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.
It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.
Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.
Gods above, you were touching yourself.
He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.
You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.
You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.
Suddenly, he can move again.
Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.
"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.
You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.
"No. Don't stop."
You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."
You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-
And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.
He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.
Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.
You were brave, he'd give you that.
You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.
He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.
"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.
"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.
He took a step closer.
"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"
Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.
"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.
Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.
Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.
He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.
Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."
You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.
You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.
Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.
"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."
Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.
"Why?"
Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.
"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."
He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.
His dick was still unyieldingly hard.
Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.
You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.
"Your highness?"
"Yes?"
You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.
When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.
You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.
When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.
"What do you think about when you come?"
He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.
Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.
"You."
"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.
Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.
"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."
Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.
You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.
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Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.
He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.
"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.
"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.
Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.
"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"
Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.
Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.
"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."
Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.
"Jeongin. Get out of my way."
Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.
He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.
"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.
"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.
Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."
Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"
Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.
It's admirable, he'll give him that.
He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"
Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.
He can feel a headache coming on.
"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"
Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.
"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"
Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.
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Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.
The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.
He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.
The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.
He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.
Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.
"I heard your mother stopped by today."
He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.
"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.
He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.
"(Y/N)."
You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.
Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.
The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.
"What did you talk about?"
You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.
"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."
Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.
"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.
You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.
"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"
Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.
"Yes."
Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.
At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.
"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.
Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.
He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"
"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."
Chan feels his heart immediately sink.
A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.
You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.
Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.
"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.
The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.
Chan ignores them.
You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.
"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."
You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.
Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.
He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.
You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
The mess he always makes.
After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.
Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.
Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.
"Little blossom, leave it-"
He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.
Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.
His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.
"You're bleeding."
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"You're bleeding."
Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.
"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."
Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"
Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."
He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.
You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.
"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.
Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.
"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."
You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.
"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.
The look on your face took his breath away.
"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"
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Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.
You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.
When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.
"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.
He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.
He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.
You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.
"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.
Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.
"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.
"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.
"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.
You're so fucking beautiful.
"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."
You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.
"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."
The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.
"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.
"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."
You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.
He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.
"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."
You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.
"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"
He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.
"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"
"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.
He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.
He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.
The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.
"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"
"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."
Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.
"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."
You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.
"You're right. I know you are."
Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.
The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.
He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.
"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."
You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.
"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."
A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.
"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."
You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."
Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.
Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.
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"Do you think we're all fated to another?"
You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.
He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.
The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.
"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.
"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"
Chan considers.
He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.
"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.
He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.
"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."
He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.
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Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.
"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.
"I'll what?"
Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.
You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.
"Hi?"
He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.
You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.
You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.
"I missed you, Channie."
"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."
You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.
Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.
"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.
He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.
"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."
And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.
#skz#stray kids#stay#bang chan#chan#christopher bang#skz chan#persephone#hades#skz fanfic#skz reactions#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz greek gods#greek gods#skz smut#skz fluff#skz angst#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#chan x you#chan x reader#femreader#y/n#chan x y/n#hades x persephone#cb97#skz au
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this show would have been so much better if they’d made both sides way more equal. Because at the moment they’re not. There's a good side and a bad side. Like theres no way I can argue the greens are as ‘likeable’ as the blacks, even if I prefer to watch them. If they were so dead set on making the ‘choose a team’ thing such a big deal (which is all annoying promotional nonsense anyway but that's a point for another day) then I want to be TORN. they could have at least made it so not every bad thing that happens to the greens can be blamed on themselves. the writing just can't shake off the underlying heroes and villains narrative long enough to realise the whole point of this story is these are all meant to be complex, entire individuals who were for the most part just trying to survive. Both teams should be further into a grey area than they are. Ultimately both Alicent and Rhaenyra are just trying to keep their familys alive. That doesn't make them villains, even as it puts them at odds with each other. Why was this not dealt with in a more interesting way? It was right there to play with.
it would have been so easy to make us torn over who to support. Instead, the fanbase is split between a majority of team black, which is usually people who are approaching this from a watsonian perspective where they have bought into the ‘rightful ruler’ thing and also kinda understandably think rhaenyra would make a better monarch than her siblings, and a minority of team green, as people who are approaching it from a doylist perspective, meaning they just find team greens characterisation more interesting and don't rly care about the throne bc everyone dies anyway. And that's disappointing honestly. It should be split more evenly, that would make this story so much more engaging. Holding the greens in some way accountable for everything bad that happens to them and the blacks accountable for nothing does absolutely nothing to flesh out the core reality of this tragedy - the reality that this was always going to be the ending no matter the choices these characters made. It was set in motion before most of them were even born. The shows even written it so the death of poor little jaeherys can be blamed on his family. After daemon sent an assassin into their home!! Like are you serious. Its a weak disneyfied retelling of the original story, which is what literally no one comes to asoiaf for. stop trying to spoonfeed us and give us some real emotional turmoil for once!!!
#hotd#hotd critical#no expectations that it won't continue to be this way#but you know#whatever#its getting to “I want to rewrite this whole thing” territory#maybe by the end of the season i’ll be so incensed i’ll actually do it#olivia cooke#emma d'arcy#criston cole#alicent hightower#rhaenyra targaryen
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Love Talk
Lando Norris X Reader
Genre: established relationship
Warnings: none :)
Word Count: 700+
Author's Note: this is just a cute little story about saying love to your partner. I might do more of this. Like more little pieces of this "podcast" or maybe I do them with different drivers. What do you guys think? do you want more of Lando, so like this same setting but a different? or do you want other drivers, so same setting but another driver instead? Lmk what you guys think. enjoy reading tho.
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“Tell me about the first time you guys said you loved each other,” the host, asked Lando.
You and Lando had recently got engaged, and to celebrate the news, you guys decided to do a little podcast segment discussing your relationship. Lando chuckled a little at the request before saying, “well there's a little context you need to know.” Lando took a sip of water before continuing, “one of the first few dates we went on, we talked about love languages. (y/n) told me that their way of showing love was acts of service, but how they liked to receive love was words of affirmations.”
“You remembered that?” you questioned, being taken aback by the recalling of that night.
“Of course I remembered that,” Lando laughed at your surprise, “but anyway, a few months later, we’re home in Monaco. (y/n) is obviously staying with me.”
“Oh yes obviously,” you retort sarcastically.
Lando shakes his head a little with a smile, while grabbing your hand to hold, he continues, “and one morning, I need to go to morning workout. She's still sleeping, but there was some laundry that needed to be taken out. So before I leave, I gently wake her, and ask her to take the laundry out. She sleepily says okay.”
“They don’t need to know all that,” you fuss at Lando’s retelling.
“It's part of the story,” he argues. “Well anyway, I leave to go to training. I’m gone for a few hours. When I had gotten back to the apartment, (y/n) had done what I asked, and more. She did the laundry, she made the bed, she did the dishes, cooked lunch, swept and mopped and basically made the place look spotless.”
“I wanted to be useless,” you say, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.
Lando now looks at you, his gaze was soft, something so endearing. “It was that moment I knew you loved me. You might not have said it, but your actions told me you loved me, and I wanted you to know that I loved you too. That was the first time I told you I loved you.”
“It was,” you said looking at Lando, “you never told me that you knew.”
“Did you say it back?” the host now asked you.
“No I didn’t,” you answer truthfully, “I was scared, I didn’t feel ready to say it.”
“Lando, you weren’t upset that she didn’t say it back?”
“No, because she said it first. I mean obviously, I said it verbally first, but she showed me she loved me first. So it didn’t matter if she couldn’t say it yet, because I knew she felt it.” Lando answered truthfully.
Lando, still holding your hand, brought it up to his lips, giving you a quick kiss.
“What about you, (y/n), when was the first time you verbally said you loved Lando?”
“It was obviously after Lando,” you spoke up truthfully, “I believe we were in Belgium, we were at Spa. It was a grand prix, and of course Spa brings up a lot of emotions for everyone. It was a wet session, and it was qualifying. Lando was obviously giving it his all, pushing the car to the absolute limit.”
“Like I always do,” Lando jokes.
You chuckle at the statement, “yes you always do,” you say with a smile. “Um, Lando end up losing it in one of the turns, he had hit the wall. And it wasn’t a particularly bad crash, he was fine. The car had little damage, he was able to bring it back into the pits, and all was well. However my first thought when I saw him was I never told him I loved him.”
“But?” Lando interrupts.
“Well at the time I thought I never told him I loved him.” You correct your statement, and continue “so as soon as Lando got out of the car, the first thing I told him was,” you looked at Lando wanting him to hear and feel your next words, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Lando reassured, “And at that time I had already told her I loved her, so I said it back right away, just like I did right now.”
“Who says I love you more?”
“I do,” Lando says.
“He does,” you confirm.
“(y/n) shows me she loves me all the time, and I know that to make sure she knows I feel the same, I say it more.” Lando says, looking at you with so much love.
#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 au#ln4#lando norris#Formula 1 Lando#lando#Norris#mclaren#Mclaren lando#lando imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris f1#lando norris fluff
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A Measured Response: A Measured Response
Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.
Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.
James,
Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:
1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.
2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.
I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.
I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!
Here's what I'm not hearing about:
1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.
2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.
3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.
4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:
a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.
b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.
c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.
I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.
That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.
5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.
6) The worth of the people you stole from.
7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.
8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.
9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.
10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.
11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.
"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."
Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.
So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?
The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.
You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.
"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.
You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."
Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.
You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.
You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.
You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.
These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.
You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.
Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.
Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.
But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)
Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.
I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.
So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."
Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.
I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.
Just log off, Bro.
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My Girl - Benny Cross x Reader
A/N: I know this is a slow series, but hopefully it's not too bad 😅
(Also, posting this from my phone, might have to fix this up later 😅😅)
Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day
When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May (ooh)
I guess you’d say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl, my girl, my girl
Talkin’ ‘bout my girl, my girl
- My Girl by The Temptations
It had been a week since Benny spoke to you. And it was all he could think about. Sure, he’d seen you around the town, mostly at the grocery shop or the diner, in passing. But it wasn’t enough. He’d gotten a taste of your sweet voice. Seeing you up close; the colour of your eyes, which had specs of (colour) to them. How your hair was (colour) but when the light hits it, it looked (colour). How your cheeks go a rosy colour when you were shy or embarrassed. Benny wanted to experience it all so much more.
Cal waved his hand in front of Benny's face, snapping the young Vandal from his thoughts of you. That’s right, he was currently playing a game of pool with the man laughing at him. While waiting for his shot, it looks like Benny had zoned out again. Holding the cue against his body, Benny shot Cal and those around him an embarrassed smile. Which only made them laugh.
“Sorry" he muttered, moving with his cue to the pool table and looking over his options. Before finally lining up his shot and taking it, sinking the four ball.
Johnny was sitting near by on a stool, nursing his beer. “Ya alright kid? Ain’t like ya to be off with the fairies".
Before Benny could say a word, Cal beat him to the punch. “Yeah, he’s alright. Just found himself a girl".
Johnny raised his eyebrows in surprise, this was the first time he’d heard about there being a girl. “Is that right, huh?”
Another man – one from the diner incidents – laughed before speaking up, “yeah! She’s a shy, little thing. Some of the guys were makin' fun of her, but Benny stepped in and told them to ‘knock it off’”.
Johnny nodded, listening to the man’s words. Benny stood back from the pool table – his turnover – as he listened to them, embarrassed by the retelling of the diner. But it was true. He stepped in and defended you. And he would do it again for you if needed him too.
Sliding off his stool, Johnny down the rest of his beer before walking past Benny. He chuckled, patting him on the back. “Well, ya'll have to bring her around sometime. Would be nice to meet the girl that’s got ya by the balls".
Johnny then walked off to speak with a few other guys. Cal and the guys around Benny laughed at their leaders' words. They even jostled Benny and shared their own comments, which he wasn’t too fond of. But Benny knew he’d have to bring you to the bar. It would be a shock for you, but he knew you could handle it. Plus he’d be there with you, making sure nothing happened to you.
“Alright, spill!” Fran demanded, as she and Sandra sat across from you in a booth at the diner where this all began.
“Yeah! I had to hear it from my neighbour, who heard from her hair dresser, who got the gossip from Mrs Martin about Benny coming into the grocery store! And talking to you!?” Added Sandra.
You sat on your side of the booth, wishing it would swallow you up from their intense gazes. Once more, they asked you about Benny. And to be honest, you didn’t know what it meant. He’d come in for gum, and you shared a small conversation.
Taking a sip from the milkshake before you, you sat back and cleared your throat. “Well...there’s not much to say-" you started before being interrupted.
“Oh bull!” Huffed Fran. “From what we’ve heard, it was pretty intense between you too!”
“Yeah, so don’t down play it!” Added Sandra.
You sighed. “Really! It wasn’t like that, it wasn’t that big a deal!” You took a moment to gather your thoughts. “It went like this; I was just working and stupidly singing when I was surprised to see Benny. And I was a complete bumbling idiot! He wanted to buy gum-"
“Gum?” Both women questioned.
You nodded. “Yes, gum. He then apologised for the Vandals comments" you recalled that moment a week ago. “Benny then asked for my name, which I gave him, and he said it was pretty, that it suits me...then Mrs Martin showed up, and yeah, she wasn’t pleasant to him at all".
Both women stared at you, as you went back to your milkshake. “Bull" Sandra said, leaning over the table. “That’s not the story, right?”
“Yeah, its too...clean?” Fran said confused.
You wanted to laugh at their faces, but held back. “It’s the truth".
Both women sat back against the booth, utterly confused. As they began to tell you, the way they heard it was some big drama. That Benny was harassing you when Mrs Martin stepped in. Not to mention one retelling told that you were shamelessly flirting with Benny, practically in his hands, one palm on each cheek, and not that of your face. You blushed at the notion.
“If this is what we've heard, just imagine what your parents might hear" Fran's words sobered you up.
You hadn’t even thought about your parents, and God only knows what they’ll say, or do, if they hear the gossip of Benny and you. But it being after a week and only now had your friends heard about it. So, there could be a small chance they might not hear it. So long as you stayed clear of any further gossip, you might be in the clear.
Unfortunately for you, the other half of the gossip mill didn’t know your plan. You heard the bell above the diner door jingle and heavy feet. You were talking to your friends, not even caring about your surroundings. It was only when you glanced up to look at Sandra and Fran, discussing a coming movie to your local theatre, were you confused to see their shocked faces. They looked stunned, mouths slightly agape and eyes wide. Before you could questioned them the silence at your table was disturbed by an all too familiar gruff voice.
“Hey (Y/N)”
You turned only to find Benny. Who looked just as good as the last time you’d seen him. Only this time he was wearing dirty white jeans, black t-shirt and his denim vest that sported the Vandal colours. The way he looked at you with those baby blues of his, warm and twinkling. The way his full lips turned up in a shy, slightly toothy smile.
You felt one of your friends kick your foot, snapping you from your observation of him. “H-hi Benny...”
Hearing his name from your lips, in that honeyed voice of yours, had Benny's heart skipping a beat. His smile brightened, and he slowly began to relax. Finally, he noticed your companions, which he smiled at – but not as brightly as he had you. Benny even shot them a hey. You’d have laughed at their reaction to being acknowledged by the gorgeous Vandal. But you were busy trying to wrap your head around him being here in the first place. And even then, that voice in the back of your head was telling you to be careful, you don’t need more gossip getting around town.
“Mind if I join ya?” Benny asked, looking at you, yet not even waiting for your reply before slipping in into the booth next to you, boxing you in without an escape.
All you could do was look at Benny, not doubt like a deer in headlights, while he just continued to look at you. That charming smile on his lips. Both Fran and Sandra shared a look before turning back to you and Benny. One of the women cleared their throat, which got your attention. Turning from Benny, breaking the connection between you both. From there, they made small talk, which was mostly directed at Benny. Who only gave vague or one word answers.
You found it amusing how he didn’t seem to care for their attention. Yet when you spoke, he listened attentively and spoke to you. Slowly, you relaxed and were able to drink the rest of your milkshake, all while those baby blues watched you. Fran and Sandra eventually left, as they weren’t getting any of Benny's attention. So they slinked away with their tails between their legs.
“Finally, just us" Benny sighed, placing his arm on the back of the booth. His fingers brushing your clothed back.
A small, pleasant shiver ran down your spine. Your breath catching for a moment. You imagined what it would be like if you had been wearing a sun dress. How warm he would be, how rough those pads would be against your skin.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Benny's rough voice said into your ear, his breath fanning over you from how close he was to you.
When you turned to look at him, you were surprised to see how close Benny was. Being so close, you could see how blue his eyes were, with small specs of a darker blue. They were beautiful and captivating. You could easily get lost in those blues.
“A-ah, yeah...I'm fine" you squeaked out, making Benny chuckle.
He moved back a little, a warm smile crossing his lips at your words. “Good. I wanna know, do you wanna come to a meetin’ when I get back in town?”
You blinked. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for a few days, sweetheart," he replied, drumming his hands on the booth.
“Oh...” you muttered.
Then you took a moment to think over his offer. You knew you should keep your distance, stop any chance of gossip coming back to bite you. And yet, this was the second time he’d sought you out. Coming to talk to you. You should be running away from Benny Cross, and yet you wanted to move closer to him. Maybe you could be a girl he could want.
‘You sure?’ That voice asked. Yet you did your best to ignore it.
Pushing away your thoughts and insecurities, forgetting the repercussions that could come from talking and being seen with Benny. You couldn’t deny how you liked having his attention. So, you made your bed and planned to lie in it.
“Sure Benny" you smiled.
#benny cross x reader#benny cross x y/n#benny cross x you#the bikeriders x reader#austin butler x reader#benny the bikeriders
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