#He just- 'uwu I am a monster'
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jean vicquemare discourse has so far consisted of nothing but “he was so mean to Harry and he didn’t even try to help him” and i just gotta ask… like i know the game is text heavy and i gotta know, did you actually like… read it?
because it explicitly talks about how jean gave him chance after chance… he defends harry to his own precinct… he goes back for him again knowing he’s probably gonna be disappointed again…
he literally said “nope that’s it i am done with harry” and then almost immediately changed his mind. it took like 3 days.
the discourse i read seriously just sounds like “jean should have treated harry like a widdle baby boy! he’s so innocent!” and while yes, harry isn’t the same person jean knew, he has no way of knowing if harry is pretending or not, if this is just another stupid game he’s playing bc uh… harry was a horrible, manipulative person to jean and everyone else
never mind that jean is canonically mentally ill, he has deep chronic depression… like forgiveness just doesn’t happen that easily under these circumstances. he’s protecting himself from a man he cares deeply for, who has consistently hurt him
like idk dislike jean if you want but textually speaking, he’s not a monster and harry is not a uwu baby man just because he lost his memory
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Octavia: “I just don’t like it my father neglects me in favor of the imp guy that he’s cheating and it leads to my mom to fight with him” Brandon, Viv, and most of shippers: “Wow you are a stupid, annoyed whore, die!” Octavia: “I am 17 year old” Wow this is just hate towards female characters for being in way of gay ships huh?
The way the writers and the fandom demonize all three of the characters who were the most hurt by Stolas’ actions whenever they get rightfully mad him in order to try and make Stolas look more sympathetic is kinda gross…?
Like they’ll instantly take Stolas’ side and completely ignore all of his bad actions to paint him as an UwU soft boy and demonize any character that DARES hold him accountable for his actions while neglecting looking at this situation from their perspective.
For Octavia it’s especially bad because this girl suffering from neglect and divorce who has done NOTHING wrong is being called a “slut” and treating as a monster from the rest of the fanbase.
Octavia deserves to be in a better show man.
#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#vivziepop criticism#helluva boss criticism#anti stolas#Octavia deserves better
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WARNING: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL, STOLITZ CRITICAL CONTENT.
I get fairly mean in this one, you've been warned.
I am so sorry, Viv. You can't convince me to see Stolitz as anything beyond a toxic, doomed to fail, train wreck.
I'm SO down for a good toxic ship.
In fact, I found their pilot dynamic far more interesting than the current writing seems to be depicting.
I refuse to feel bad for a man that caught feelings for a childhood """friend""" so hard he ruined his own life. Blitz owes NOTHING to Stolas. He agreed to fuck him so he could run a business that is barely discussed, even though it was the original point of the show.
Does it suck that Stolas had to deal with an arranged marriage that he never wanted with a mean wife? Yeah.
You know what else sucks?
THAT STELLA HAD TO MARRY A MAN SHE NEVER WANTED, AND HAD TO GIVE BIRTH TO HIS CHILD. ALL WHILE HAVING A FUCKING CREEP OF A BROTHER. ALL WHILE BEING TREATED AS A MONSTER BY THE FANDOM THAT CAN'T UNDERSTAND HYPOCRISY IF IT BIT THEM IN THE FACE.
Like yes, she's a cantankerous bitch. But you can't seriously pretend like she isn't also suffering in this relationship. The only difference is she turns her pain into external anger, where as Stolas has been turned into uwu soft bird who can do no wrong.
Even though he destroyed his family in an extremely public way. Octavia is going to have to live with the impact of her father's decisions for the rest of her life. You can't seriously expect me to feel bad for a man that is the agent of his own destruction.
You also can't tell me that Blitz just needs to get over himself just so he can be with a man who's father BOUGHT HIM FOR HIS SON AS A PRESENT.
To reiterate. If this was meant to be read as a terrible toxic arrangement that just keeps happening? I'm down for that. But this is not, and will never be cute or healthy.
Blitz doesn't owe Stolas anything. He keeps up his end of the bargain. It's purely sexual, and just because Stolas can't accept that doesn't make it Blitz's problem.
Stolas needs to learn how to accept rejection and move the fuck on. He knew he would catch feelings and considering he basically has Blitz on a leash, that doesn't make this any less gross.
The fact that he knows Blitz will leave if he's given the power to go to earth on his own proves it.
Blitz has frankly done very little IF ANYTHING to warrant being subjected to this level of obsession on Stolas' part. He's just trying to make a living.
Frankly, if you wanted us to actually think Blitz was interested, you've totally missed the boat with that one. This should have been worked on ages ago and it makes it feel exceptionally rushed and out of character on Blitz's part.
At this point I'm starting to think Fizz and Ozzie are a fluke of good writing in a sea of godsawful shit. Charlie and Vaggie felt like a literal afterthought in their own show. Husk and Angel are so rushed it felt like watching a relationship at double speed. Are we even supposed to think Pen and Cherry are actually a thing? Because if I was Cherry I would have punched Pen for that shit.
Christ. I don't drink but Viv makes me feel like starting.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
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$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.
How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.
Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader
Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏
Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3
WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3
A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")
The silence is palpable.
"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"
Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.
So, you keep talking.
"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."
There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.
Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.
"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."
If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.
"Are you really?"
"… Yes."
A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.
"I seriously am."
"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."
The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.
You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.
"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."
The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.
"Then what did you learn?"
Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.
"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"
"Try again."
"Uh…"
"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"
The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.
"I'm, I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"
You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."
"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."
"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."
The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.
Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.
A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.
Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"
"Partner?"
"Yeah, partners."
You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.
Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.
The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.
Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.
Then he snarls.
Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.
You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.
And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.
You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.
Someone wails behind him.
You scream.
Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.
Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.
It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.
"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"
Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.
"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."
Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.
But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."
And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.
You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.
"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.
So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."
Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.
"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."
"Don't call me that!"
It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.
"Know your place."
"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"
" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."
"I didn't!"
"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."
Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.
Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.
Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.
Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.
Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?
The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.
But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."
For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.
"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't."
"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."
Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.
"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."
He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."
"Let me help."
You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.
That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.
Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.
"I probably should've just showered."
You shrug. "You still could."
"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."
"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."
Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.
"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."
"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.
"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."
You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?
"We still need to chat. You promised."
His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."
Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.
"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"
Don't let me down.
It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.
"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."
Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.
When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.
"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."
You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.
He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"
"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."
"Y-you know about the bet?"
Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.
"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."
"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.
His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.
"Known for a while, to be honest."
"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"
"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."
"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"
"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."
"Against my will, too much…"
"Which means I'm right."
"… I guess you do make a fair point."
"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."
Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."
"Like what?"
"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."
"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."
Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.
"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."
Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.
Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"
"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."
"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.
Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."
"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."
"Well, you won't do it, will you?"
"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.
"But I do."
"Yeah? Prove it!"
Ooh, a challenge.
And one more step closer.
"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."
Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.
"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"
"But…?"
The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.
"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."
Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.
He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.
Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.
Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.
"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."
Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."
And that was that.
With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.
The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.
Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.
"You're sure about this?"
"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."
You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.
Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.
The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.
Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.
"You look tired, you doing okay?"
"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."
Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"
He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"
"I'll feel better at the border."
Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."
Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.
"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."
"That's true, it would be good for him to do."
"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."
"He's gonna give us both a scolding."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.
Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.
The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.
Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.
But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.
"Greetings, weary travelers."
"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.
The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."
It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.
Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.
It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.
"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.
"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."
After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."
"Not true!"
He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.
"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."
"It's not like that."
"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."
"Boring."
"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"
"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."
He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."
"Sounds cozy."
"I swear —"
You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."
"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."
"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."
"Now, now… violence is never the answer."
"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"
If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.
Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.
"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"
"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."
"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."
"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."
You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.
"So, he already told you what happened."
"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"
"But…" You repeat warily.
Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.
Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."
There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.
Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.
You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.
Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.
You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.
And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.
Again.
"Where is he?"
"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"
"Sure."
"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."
Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"
And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.
He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.
"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."
"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.
The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.
Why was he acting like this?
Did he regret everything that happened between you?
Was something wrong?
Would he shut himself away from you?
Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.
So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.
"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"
A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."
"Open the door."
Silence.
"Please."
The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"
You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.
"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"
Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"
A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.
Feathers. Everywhere.
Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.
You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.
"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"
It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.
He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.
So that's how they hide and reappear.
"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.
Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.
Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.
Desire.
An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.
"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."
"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"
"Get out."
"Seok —"
"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."
"My own good?"
"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."
Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"
"I haven't —"
"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."
You promised.
He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.
"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."
Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"
"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."
"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.
"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."
"Is it a disease?"
"Wish it was that simple."
"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."
"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."
You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."
"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"
"… Tesla."
A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.
Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."
"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"
He holds his head. "… Yes."
"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"
Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.
"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"
"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."
"Better than leafy, I suppose."
"Though you are quite… feathery."
Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.
"You still keep that old thing around?"
He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."
"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."
"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"
"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."
"… Why?"
You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.
He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.
If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.
Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.
"Conscious consent and reciprocation."
Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"
"No."
It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.
"What? Wh-why?"
"Don't get me wrong, it's —"
"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"
He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"
"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"
"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."
"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."
"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"
"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."
"It's —"
"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"
Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.
Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"
He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.
"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."
"… You said you loved him."
"When?"
"… To Cheol. After you first met him."
"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"
He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."
"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."
Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."
"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."
It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.
"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."
You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"
"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."
"Yours?"
"Mine."
"Sucker."
A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.
"What?"
"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"
"… Was not."
"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"
He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"
"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."
"And what's on the table?"
"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."
"That so?"
"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."
Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."
"Winner takes all?"
"Mayfly, I've always been yours."
"Sap," you laugh again.
A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.
The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.
When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.
You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"
"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.
You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.
"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"
"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."
"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."
Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.
Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.
"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.
"Because you're a vision to behold."
"Says the one who looks like an angel."
You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.
"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."
Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.
"Beautiful," he murmurs.
The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.
"May I?"
"Of course."
Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.
Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.
"Are you alright?"
"Mhm… yes."
He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.
Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.
"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."
By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.
"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."
He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.
You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.
So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.
His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.
"Let me take care of you too."
"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"
"That's the least of my concerns right now."
"I can still…"
"Later. First, I want to help you."
Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."
"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."
The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.
"May I?"
You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."
Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.
You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.
He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.
And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.
"You don't have to —"
He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.
"Oh, mayfly."
A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.
"Ah, 'm sorry!"
While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.
Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.
Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.
You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.
His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.
Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"
"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"
Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.
"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.
But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.
"Will it fit?"
"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."
"I trust you."
"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."
Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.
Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"
"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."
Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.
"Mine."
Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.
"Yours."
You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.
Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.
Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.
"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.
"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."
Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.
Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.
Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.
His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.
"Hey, you."
"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."
Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.
"Did that help?"
"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.
You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.
"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.
"What are you —"
You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.
"But not of this," he rasps.
Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.
"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"
He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.
Delicious.
Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.
Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.
"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"
Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.
"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."
The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.
"What are you three doing in here?"
Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.
"We're afraid to venture out of here."
Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."
"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"
"Pay up for what?"
"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."
"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."
Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"
Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"
Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."
"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."
"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."
Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"
"Should be our next bettin' round."
"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."
Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"
"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."
Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"
"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."
Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."
"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."
"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."
Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.
A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.
"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.
"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."
"Very well. Shall we go now?"
Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.
A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.
She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.
"Chan."
Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.
"Yes, Saintess?"
"Do you regret it?"
"No. Never."
"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."
Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.
He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.
"Do you think this will work?"
Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.
"Have you ever played chess before?"
"No, what is it?"
"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."
Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."
Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."
Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.
"What's that one?"
"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."
Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."
"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."
"To the glory of the Black King's rise."
"And to the glory of our so-called queen."
Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…
He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."
onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©
#ez.creates#svthub#svt.smut#dokyeom smut#dk smut#seokmin smut#lee seokmin smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#kpop smut#trigun au#svt au#seventeen au
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Kind of a continuation of my Medusa post? But this time about Poseidon.
I talked in my Medusa post of a trait that... seems to be lost on many people when it comes to the characterization of Poseidon? The fact that Poseidon has not just a bad side, but a dark side, and that he is supposed - in many ways like Hera - to be one of those ambiguous villains or anti-villains of Greek mythology. There's the misinformation that "Hades was a bad guy" and the new false take that "Hades was a good guy", when truth is "Hades was a neutral guy". There's the name TV Tropes and Idioms used to designate falsely presenting a bad god in a good light - "Everybody loves Zeus", and I get it is supposed to be a reverse of "Everybody hates Hates", but this is part of the wave of Zeus-hate by the Internet that literaly covered the fact Zeus was supposed to be the BIG GOOD of Ancient Greece. And the third brother also very clearly falls into the series of mischaracterization as there's this sort of cliche of Poseidon as some sort of chill guy who just hangs around the back of the Greek pantheon and is a cool dude...
... And I blame Percy Jackson for it. Don't get me wrong: I love the Percy Jackson books. But it is not because I love them that I don't recognize their flaws, and that I am not saddened at seeing how their fans warped what Greek mythology is. "Percy Jackson" and affiliated series, due to being a book series about the son of Poseidon, presents Poseidon as this good, benevolent, chill, positive deity. And I respect that, and in fact it came off as a true TWIST back when they were released, and I loved this twist because Poseidon had always been one of my favorite gods. Not only that, but Riordan made clear he knew about the dark and bad side of Poseidon, and tried to work it in his worldbuilding, by having key moments of his books relying on Percy confronting his half-brothers (Procrustes, Polyphemus, Anteus, etc...). In fact, a strong point of the original book series was Percy having to deal with the fact his father could love as much him as these monsters... But unfortunately Riordan apparently did not work on this point enough since the Internet basically decided to make Poseidon an uwu god.
So let's break it down. And if you didn't understand anything I said until this point, don't worry, I explain it all here.
Poseidon was... not supposed to be a wholly good, benevolent, and certainly not kind deity. I mean he has his positive point and his goodness, like all gods - because Greek gods are always neither wholly black or white, but grey (except for these minor gods that are personifications, and that do obey a black-and-white morality). And when you crack open the first Greek mythology manual for children you will often find the description of Poseidon as being just as temperamental and mercurial as the sea: sometimes Poseidon is a calm, quiet and kind god reflecting the peaceful sea ; other times he bursts out in anger and violence like a sea-storm, and his mood can change very, very quickly just like the oceanic weather. The Greeks were heavy sailors and fishermen: they knew the sea was their best ally and their more treacherous enemy, that they should worship but not trust it.
In terms of mythology, this is reflected by Zeus being the "dark twin" or at least "darker double" of Zeus. Zeus and Poseidon are plenty similar: both are one of the "big three" as the PJO series calls them, both are notorious for being lustful womanizers that keep having babies left and right, both are heavily implied in the great epics of heroes... The same way Hades was the "Chthonian Zeus", Poseidon was very much the "Oceanic Zeus". But the difference is that Poseidon was supposed to be much more dangerous, and much darker than Zeus.
Zeus embodied the law and the rules. He was a keeper of oath, a punisher of criminals, a rewarder of the goods, he embodied order and justice. Poseidon? No such thing. With his dual nature of helper and persecutor of heroes, with his sudden mood changes, with him surrounding himself with monsters and hybrids, Poseidon rather reflected a form of chaos. This was reflected for example in the quarrelsome nature of Poseidon, who kept getting into fights with other deities about the ownership of specific human cities or islands. His two most famous battles being his dual against Athena, for the ownership of Athens, and his trial against Helios for being the god of Corinth. But other tales of him feuding with gods for pieces of land exist...
And to that, it should be added that Poseidon was one of the most famous antagonists and hero-persecutors of Greek mythology, thanks to him being the big bad of "The Odyssey" and the archnemesis of Odysseus. This status as the antagonist of one of the two fundamental works of Greek literature puts him at the same place as, for example, Hera, the by-default persecutor of great heroes (just ask Herakles or Dionysos). It should be especially noted that The Odyssey takes a great care into painting Poseidon was maybe originally rightfully mad, but pushing the persecution beyond the reasonable. The beginning of the Odyssey has Athena plead for Odysseus' case before Zeus, pointing out the unfairness of his situation, and Zeus fully agree with her... but explains he can't do anything because Poseidon is still on the case and just will not let go. Poseidon is definitively a grudge-holder, and the Odyssey is not subtle about it.
But the final trait that confirms and illustrates well the dark, evil, chaotic side of Poseidon is his entourage, his children especially. As I said, Zeus and Poseidon are both father-figures in Greek mythology, and both are gods who just keep sleeping with everything around them. But Zeus' constant lust was depicted in a positive light, as him enacting his role as "father of gods", "father of men", as king, and god of justice and protector of civilization: because from his loins were born the greatest gods of the mythology, and the most admirable and benevolent heroes, and the great kings that founded the Greek civilization. But Poseidon? Oh, Poseidon was the "shadow" of Zeus as I said, a sort of dark twin. And so what did he gave birth to? Monsters and criminals and murderers.
The tradition of "the sea giving birth to monsters and chaos" is a very old one, in fact it is a trait of the Indo-European religions, as old as the Babylonian or Summerian mythologies. Even before we get on Poseidon's case, we can remind of the fact that the oldest and most dangerous monsters in the Greek world were given birth to by Phorcys and Ceto, two old and ancient sea-deities that predated Poseidon's rule, and were associated with sea-monsters and sea-dangers (Ceto/Keto herself shared her name with whales, any kind of huge sea beasts, and many of the creatures we describe now as sea-monsters or sea-dragons). Ladon, for example, the dragon guarding the Golden Fleece, was Keto's child ; and so was Echidna (aka the mother of monsters, who birthed with Typhon the rest of the monsters of Greek mythology). And speaking of Phorkys, Poseidon ended up sleeping with two of his daughters.
One was the nymph Thoosa of which we know barely anything - but her child became famous. Polyphemus, the monstrous and savage man-eating cyclop that became such a terrifying image through the Odyssey. The other was, as I said before... Medusa the Gorgon. And as I explained before, in the oldest recorded versions of the myth, there was no transformation: the Gorgon was born a hideous and terrifying monster. The snake hair, the petrifying gaze, the monstrous face that embodied everything the Greeks deemed ugly, the metallic claws and wings... And all that seduced Poseidon somehow, and he made her his lover, and they even had children together - which in turn were also monsters. The benevolent Pegasus, and the mysterious Chrysaor (who in turn later gave birth to Geryon, the three-bodied monster Herakles had to fight).
This trend of Poseidon choosing the most unusual, dangerous or terrifying consorts to give birth to monsters heroes will later have to face is confirmed by the recurring image of Poseidon having slept with GAIA out of all goddesses. And who are the children attributed to this unon of Poseidon with his own grandmother (not only that, but to my knowledge it is the only time an Olympian slept with Gaia, who usually mates with other primordial deities)? Charybdis, of the dreaded Scylla and Charybdis (Scylla is also sometimes identified as Poseidon's daughter - though she was before that a daughter of Phorkys, and it seems she became a Poseidon daughter simply because through time Poseidon absorbed Phorkys within himself) ; Laestrygon, the ancestor and first king of the Laestrygons (another race of brutal, man-eating giants like the cyclops of Polyphemus island), and finally Antaeus, yet another murderous giant (though he didn't eat people).
If you weren't certain of the fact that Poseidon was supposed to be "mostly a bad guy with some good sides" in Greek mythology, just wait until your hear about Theseus' legends! Now everybody knows of Theseus slaying the Minotaur... But before that, Theseus did another whole set of heroic feats. You see, as he left his birth-place to reach Athens in hope of finding back his father, Theseus actually did his first real heroic feats. The roads of Ancient Greece back then were infested with all sorts of robbers, thiefs and murderers - some psychopathic humans, others humanoid monsters, some human working with monsters... And Theseus managed to kill the most dreadful and dangerous ones during his journey. And... surprise surprise! Most of them were children of Poseidon!
Procrustes, the guy who loved to cut people he just invited to go to bed? Son of Poseidon. Cercyon who forced travellers to wrestle to death against him? Son of Poseidon. Sciron who pushed people from a cliff after asking them to wash his feet? Son of Poseidon. Periphetes who smashed people with a big club? Possibly a son of Poseidon.
And then, you have to count on the fact most of the evil and wicked kings of Ancient Greece ended up being "sons of Poseidons" at one point or another: Augeas with his filfthy stables ; Pelias the antagonist of the Jason legend ; Polydectes who antagonized Perseus was in later texts a Poseidon son ; there's also Amykos who had some common elements with Cercyon...
And THEN, not criminals on the road, not vicious kings, but the friggin's ALOADS. The monstrous giants that tried to destroy the Olympians and take over Olympus? POSEIDON SONS.
When something good comes out of Poseidon, it is generally a surprise and has to deal with a lot of the bad stuff their own father produced. (In some variations of the Theseus legend for example, Theseus becomes a son of Poseidon, which completely changes the angle of his stories - as his opposition to the Minotaur and his battles against the bandits make him look like the "good son" of Poseidon having to get rid of all the monstrous sons or indirect creations of his father...).
Even the more neutral or benevolent sons of Poseidon are freaky or disturbing. The first son of Poseidon and Amphitrite is Triton - half-man half-fish, and probably the origin of the origin of the triton species. Some consider Proteus the son of Poseidon, and he is a frightening shapeshifter. And then there's the whole host of "talking magical animals" Poseidon gave birth to, which reflects how "primitive" and... let's say "inhuman" the god stays - from the ram from which comes the Golden Fleece to Arion the fabulous horse. Usually, gods who have such a parent-relationship with animals, in Greek mythology, are not good guys (for example Ares in the Cadmos legend, and his relationship with the dragon Cadmus/Cadmus killed...).
If you ask me who my favorite fictional Poseidon is in media, I will say without a doubt, the Poseidon of "Mission Odyssey" as you call it in English (I always found this title silly, in French it was "The Odyssey", and that's it):
Now, I know that "Mission Odyssey" is WILDLY inaccurate to Greek mythology and they clearly tried to stretch as much as they could... everything. Just a look at Poseidon's design above tells you that they clearly do not want to give a "traditional" retelling of the Greek myths.
But, that being said, there's a reason why I love this cartoon, and its because for everything inacurracy they have something that is done perfectly right, and in fact well ahead of their time. For example Hades: they did Hades right, as an imposing, frightening deity... but a neutral and fair one, that shows to be understanding, just and generous, and that only acts unfairly and antagonizing when tricked by Poseidon (and promptly apologizes when he realizes he was tricked). And Poseidon's characterization is also done, for me, right, because they truly manage to represent what Poseidon in the Odyssey is supposed to be.
A bad guy, yes, the antagonist of the story, a grudge-holder and a schemer and a bully who is ally, boss or father of most of monsters and criminals of Greek mythology, and is driven by pride and anger... But who is also shown to care about his children (in his own way), to try to respect the divine law and rules as much as he can (though he breaks them whenever carried away by his ego and anger, and doesn't shy from "cheating" at the "divine game") ; and that is shown to be well-liked and positively-seen by many gods and Greek cities, outside of the Odysseus-plotline. In fact, not only does the story hints and offers glimpses at the good side of Poseidon despite focusing on him as a bad guy ; but it also explains why the good side is "outstage" by turning into a story-tool the villainization of Poseidon. As in, the god is shown, just to obtain a petty win against Odysseus or satisfy his obsession with him, to trick, cheat and bully his friends and allies, who later turn against him when they realize the treachery or the deceit, and as a result over the course of the story he gets more and more alienated by all those that loved or respected him... Precisely because of how he plays an antagonist to Odysseus' story.
If you want a Disney's Hades-like villain (as in a recurring divine villain in a Greek mythology story that allies the sinister and the funny), but that is much more mythologically accurate than Disney's product, take Mission Odyssey's Poseidon.
And I just love the design. It is Asterix meets Ursula and I just LOVE this (but given this series came from the same studio that did things such as Martin Mystery, Totally Spies or Team Galaxy, cool unusual designs are expected).
#greek mythology#poseidon#greek gods#greek monsters#monsters in greek mythology#mission odyssey#percy jackson and the olympians#theseus
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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 民国奇探/My Roommate is a Detective.
My Roommate is a Detective is a 2020 drama about the Jazz Age shenanigans of a terrible OT3: a useless noodle boy, a spoiled journalist girl, and a handsome thug-turned-cop, who together solve Agatha Christie mysteries in 1920s Shanghai.
I mean, seriously, have you ever wondered what Hercule Poirot would be like if he were a 6'2" Chinese rubber man? If he had a long-suffering sugar daddy from the wrong side of the tracks and a spunky sugar mommy who owned their shared apartment? The answer is, it would be a laugh-out-loud-funny series about a ridiculous and charming assortment of weirdos solving only slightly believable murder mysteries in charming period clothing.
This is another one of those shows where I'm kind of shocked at how not well-known it is, except I'm not, because I can see exactly the problems that keep fandom from descending on it like horny little vultures. Nonetheless, I think it's a good time that more people would enjoy if they gave it the chance. Here's five reasons why you should:
1. Equal parts smart as heck and dumb as butts
On the one hand, especially given its tone and tenor, this show has many surprisingly clever turns and thoughtful moments, carried along by some talented actors. On the other hand, [.gif of a guinea pig in a rollerskate being pushed merrily down a hallway]
This show is not a complicated intellectual exercise. It's an action comedy about a goofy sleuth, a rich-girl reporter, and the cop who should be the straight man in this trio, except he's as much of a goober as the other two are. If the promotional tableaus are giving you real "cover of a Clue box" vibes, you've understood the kind of pastiche it's pulling off.
The mysteries are preposterous. They're all the kind of thing that exemplify the Doyle line about how, when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left has got to be the answer, no matter how ding-dang improbable it may be. You know the type: tons of overly elaborate setups, unbelievably perfect timing, coincidental long-lost relatives, people hallucinating right and left. They're also very short -- most full cases take only 2-3 episodes to introduce, investigate, and resolve, even when interspersed with the larger goings-on in these weirdos' lives. The DramaWiki page for the show lists 23 separate arcs over 36 episodes, so you do the math.
And yet, it's way more thoughtful and clever than its doofy little setup would indicate. Its attention to detail surprised me on more than one occasion. Add to that a bunch of solid performances from an ensemble of real characters, and what you get is definitely more substantive than a junk-food waste of time. You can't turn your brain off while watching it, but you sure can turn it down, and that's great.
It also doesn't hurt that everyone is super attractive and wearing great outfits. The whole show's worth it for the wardrobes.
2. THE GIRL
Fuck the haters, fuck everyone, I am going to climb right up on my little soapbox and tell you all why Bai Youning is awesome.
She is insane. She's a troll. She's a clever little monster. Every other character's response to her is, oh my god, you are literally the worst. And she is! She has been spoiled beyond belief by her incredibly rich Crime Dad, and she has learned to leverage her uwu just a widdle girl status to get her whatever the hell she wants. She simply cannot hear it when someone says the word "no." She will look her future sister-in-law in the eye and point a loaded gun at her own head without blinking. Every ball she has is made of brass.
She's hardly perfect. During the course of the show, there are some times where her entitlement runs face-first into the brick wall of reality. She's not nearly as good at her chosen career path as she's been told (mostly by the people who get paid to tell her she's good). She's rarely prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions, especially when she can't just throw money at the problem.
So she learns, and grows, and changes. She's always going to be a stubborn bitch, but she can become a stubborn bitch with a more accurate conception of her relationship to the world around her.
She's actually a really good romantic foil for Lu Yao, who is equally stubborn and spoiled and obnoxious as hell. It is a pure brat4brat relationship, where each one thrives on comically enraging the other. What this means, though, is that when they actually start showing one another some vulnerability, it's really sweet.
Now: I'm pretty sure that you could not have made a female character in her position that everyone did not hate, no matter how cool you made her, because that is the fate of all girls who theoretically keep the two boys from kissing. (More on that next point.) If she were less outgoing and friendly, she would've been hated for being too cold. If she were less headstrong, she would've been hated for being a pushover. If she weren't as into the boy, she would've been hated for being frigid. I know the "god forbid a woman do anything" meme is a joke, but ... man, god forbid this girl do anything. She gets a level of hate entirely disproportionate to what she's actually like. As I said with Eom Dada, it's not always sexism, but sometimes, yeah, it's sexism.
(Real talk: Her character is also fighting both how she's definitely not written as well as the boys are and how the plot sometimes needs her to be artificially stupid and jealous for Straightness Drama Reasons, so that's a legit problem on a structural level. Also, she's dubbed by someone else and the boys aren't, which gives her voice an annoying not-quite-there quality that's hard to ignore. The deck is stacked against her real hard even before she steps onscreen.)
So here's my advice: Go into this show wanting to like her. Embrace her terribleness as a positive, intentional quality. Don't be mad at her for straightening up an endgame that was never going to be gay, even without her. Welcome her contributions to the chaos. Realize that she is exactly as entertainingly irritating as her boys are.
Truly, this is a story of three terrible people in love. They're all just awful, and you wouldn't want to be in a room with any of them for longer than you had to. Left to right up there, Bai Youning is spoiled and self-absorbed, Lu Yao is arrogant and lazy, and Qiao Chusheng is suuuuuch a fucking cop. If you're into the kind of dynamic that can only be described OT3: You All Deserve One Another, then this one's perfect for you.
3. Do you really miss '00s queerbaiting?
Like, really? Are you just super-nostalgic for being able to see the showrunners go, ha ha, girls, we know you're watching and we know you want these cute boys to kiss, which they never will -- but what if we pretended for just this one scene??? Do you just carnally ache for that with every fiber of your being?
Yep.
Now, why am I calling the occasional really gay moments between these two gentlemen "queerbaiting" and not "bromance"? Because these moments are a) obviously intentional, b) completely sporadic, and c) never spoken of again.
For example: There's a scene (which you can see a gifset of here) where the two of them are at a restaurant frequented by the cop, who brings a lot of ladies there on dates. When the waiter points this out, useless noodle boy says, I'm his date. The waiter looks mildly surprised by this, the cop says not to listen to his bullshit, and that's the end of it. The scene moves on. There is no further discussion of this comment. It does not affect their relationship.
That's the essence of queerbaiting: that little on-purpose nod to the homoerotic tension between the two, in a way that isn't a joke but also isn't not a joke, and either way is never going to happen. (In fact, the show is going to go out of its way to make sure that ship gets sunk, so, uh, get your fanfiction lifeboats ready for that.)
A true queerbaiting move is something that should make a difference in a relationship, but doesn't. It should make a difference that our cop is so comfortable in the noodle boy's personal space that he invades it at will. It doesn't. It should make a difference that noodle boy keeps getting real weird every time the cop has a date with a girl. It doesn't. Those are some real romantic moves the two of them keep pulling, and then nothing comes of them.
I had this show sold to me as being incredibly shippy, to the point of being even more so than its censored-BL contemporaries. And ... well, it is and it isn't. It has textually gayer individual moments, but it is much less pervasively gay. It's clear from the start that it's going to throw all its actual relationship points into its canon het romance. When it comes to these boys, the show is toying with you. It knows you want to see those boys smooch, just as much as it knows (and it knows you know) they're never gonna.
How you feel about this is entirely up to you -- and indeed, it may be a dealbreaker on the whole drama for you. If you are inclined to pitch a fit when your ship does not become canon, you'll be happier somewhere else. If, however, you see this as a delightful opportunity to do whatever the hell you want with the situation as it is presented, all the while enjoying little moments of startlingly blatant homoeroticism between two handsome dudes, well, here you are!
(I mean, if you want my take on it, what needs to happen is that the cop and the girl need to fuck while the useless noodle boy watches with asexual bisexual interest, and then they all need to snuggle with the noodle boy in the middle so they can both annoy him appropriately, but your mileage may vary.)
4. The multicultural extravaganza!
1920s Shanghai had a lot going on in terms of cultures and languages, and this show actually does a fair job of representing that.
By now, I've seen a number of shows set during this era, and they all at least acknowledge the international nature of the city -- usually by mentioning the French Concession and having a handful of evil Japanese characters. However, this is the first time I've seen a show go to such lengths to actually show so many non-Chinese characters onscreen, even to the point of making one a recurring character supporting the main squad.
Salim is the best. Whatever he is being paid, it's not enough. He's Qiao Chusheng's right-hand man, which means he is also the dude who most often has to put up the main trio's bullshit. (The actor himself is also a dude with a pretty cool backstory, which is another great layer.) He's sharp, he's loyal, he's patient, and he looks great with his shirt off. He's got it all!
Other non-Chinese characters include a white Jewish art collector (I'd issue a warning for period-typical antisemitism, except … honestly, it's mostly just confused), a sadistic priest who maybe is supposed to be Italian, a completely different priest who [last episode spoiler], and three whole sinister white dudes behind it all.
It's not just the world coming to China, though! A large number of the Chinese characters are said to have spent significant time outside of China, whether for business or for schooling. Near the end, when some characters are discussing moving away from Shanghai, they consider a number of foreign cities as potential destinations.
Here's a delightful detail: When Lu Yao and his sister speak English, they're dubbed by actors with posh British accents who sound like native (or near-native) English-speakers. This makes perfect sense, because both of the siblings did a lot of their schooling in the UK. When Bai Youning speaks English, she's dubbed by someone who speaks English very well but also has a noticeable Chinese accent, which makes perfect sense for her character's background. And Qiao Chusheng never speaks English at all, because he's a street tough who has no reason to know more than three words.
...This is also kind of weird to say about something literally made in China, but go with me on it: Everything's kind of got that Art Deco Orientalist vibe to it. It looks like China's idea of what Britain's idea of China during that period would have looked like. The result comes across less like what 1920s Shanghai would actually have looked like, and more what an ad for 1920s Shanghai would have looked like. It's a fascinating aesthetic, and more so for how it's mostly pretty subtle. The show isn't some visual extravaganza, but it's always very nice to look at, and I appreciate that in a show.
5. A wonderful horrible protagonist
A lot of mystery-themed prestige television involves an asshole genius detective who gets away with being a dick to everyone because he's sooooo smart, while all his long-suffering friends and colleagues spend a lot of time doing damage control for him because, sigh, he's an asshole but we need him, genius excuses all dickhead behavior, we'll always make exceptions for him because he's just ever so special. (Watch histrionic sage hbomberguy's video on Sherlock if you're unfamiliar with the trope.)
Lu Yao is an asshole genius detective, but one who winds up spending most of his time being an asshole to a) people who deserve it, or b) his horrible friends who will be assholes right back at him. When he is awful to the people who don't deserve it, the show smacks him pretty hard on the nose for it and makes him apologize.
This is a show where you'll figure out pretty quckly if you'll love it or hate it, because if you love Lu Yao, you'll love it, and vice versa. He carries most of the show himself, with his goofy charm and his incredibly bendy slenderman body and his ability to make the one competent person he knows both protect him and give him money.
Like so.
For my own part, I find him intensely charming, and I think a lot of this has to do with Hu Yitian's ability to play him as an affectionately bullyable weenie who needs to get shoved in a locker for his own good. He's the worst, and it's comically endearing instead of offputting because at the end of the day, he really does have a good heart. He's just also lazy as heck and disinclined to do anything that he does not want to be doing, and really, aren't we all?
As I alluded to in point 3, he comes across as real asexual. He's just not that interested in sex, and he is in fact pretty uncomfortable in situations where he finds himself the subject of someone else's sexual desires. He's perfectly capable of romantic feelings! I mean, not only does he get Bai Youning as a love interest, we actually meet one of his ex-girlfriends. He's just not partciularly horny about them -- which is even more noticeable as a sharp contrast to how extremely horny Qiao Chusheng is for just about everyone, but this exasperating little dork in particular.
(Like seriously, 90% of the time, Chusheng is about to explode with sexual frustration at Lu Yao's skinny oblivious ass.)
This isn't to say you couldn't get Lu Yao into bed, because you absolutely could, and he'd probably have a good time. You'd just have to remove all distractions from the room, lest his ADHD ass wind up running off to solve a crime mid-coitus.
Twiggy little nightmare man. Garbage-animal boy. Love him.
sidebar: A word about the ending
I'm going to be vague and talk about general vibes instead of specific events, but you should still skip this section if you want to remain completely unspoiled. Jump to the picture of Chusheng holding the sledgehammer.
Okay, so, a lot of people do not like the ending, and I'm including myself in that number. I honestly don't know if they got rushed and had to wrap everything pretty last-minute, or if they thought they might get a second season out of it and were leaving things open-ended accordingly. Either way, it's incredibly unsatisfying.
I think there's a clue that the show didn't actually want to end this way, and it's not actually in the text of the show itself. Every episode, between the last scene and the start of the credits, you get to see a couple still frames from the episode (usually some of the queerbaity ones). After the very final shot of the series, you get two images: the boys hugging goodbye, and Chusheng's upset face. That's not a resolution! That is at best a "to be continued..." ending!
But no, that's it. That's all, folks.
It's not quite an ending so bad it ruins the rest of the show, mostly because it doesn't feel finished, so it's less like you're watching a car being deliberately driven into a wall because someone thought that was the best route to take, and more like you're watching someone leave a car on the railroad tracks because they figured they'd have time to move it later.
As far as I know, there has been no noise made about a second season. These 36 episodes are the entirety of the narrative. It had the distinct misfortune to start airing in March 2020, which wasn't exactly prime time for planning sequels, and that seems to have been that. (There is a 2022 show called Checkmate that stars the two main guys in extremely similar roles, also adapting Agatha Christie stories, but it's apparently pretty meh? Somebody else who's actually seen it, go ahead and weigh in here.)
I'll say that if you turn off the episode right after Lu Yao gets out the handcuffs, you'll save yourself the worst of it the awkward and unsatisfying moments (though I'm impressed at your willpower to stop watching something five minutes from the end). That's not all of it, though. Structurally, there are several situations rushed to a resolution and loose threads left flapping untied in the breeze. I guess stopping before the last five minutes simply saves you the hope that it'll pull a good ending out of the fire, because it won't.
And let's be real: The more you hate Bai Youning and her romance with Lu Yao, the more you'll hate the ending. (Not that liking those elements will necessarily make you like the ending, of course, because I'm a fan of hers and I still think the ending is butts.) The ending is already like a pair of uncomfortable shoes; if the het romance especially makes you grind your teeth, the ending becomes a pair of uncomfortable shoes that also have a rock in them. A lot of the comments online indicate plenty of people dropped the show when they learned the het romance would be endgame. It's a pretty common dealbreaker.
Oh well. Bring on the fanfic, I say! Those of us who are used to taking a sledgehammer to canon are unafraid.
Smash it, baby.
Still want to see some of these mysteries?
Both iQiyi and Viki have the answer to your sleuthing!
It's not a perfect show -- as evidenced by my digression about the ending -- but it's a lot of fun. If you can handle the occasional foible and some eyebrow-raising moments, you're in for a good time with some attractive people that occasionally tastes very gay.
Every roommate crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man
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ANNOUNCEMENT + IMPORTANT QUESTION
...still going strong...
Hello. I'm DoodlingAngel, or Angel for short. As you guys may have seen in a previous post, I have been obsessed with this chatbot @ch3rry-l1m4d3 authored, and goodness... it's been so much fun. I genuinely enjoy this thing soooo much. It has truly helped me fall back in love with writing, the Creepypasta fandom, and of course the ticking time bomb himself: Toby Erin Rodgers, or 'Ticci Toby,' as it were.
I have been able to flourish within this chat, and I cannot thank the wonderful mods enough for their efforts. Unfortunately, I am unable to credit them properly, as I cannot find their account handle on here. Just know that I credit them for their amazing portrayal of Toby within this chatroom, as they have given me some of the best writing to bounce off of. I'm so grateful for meeting them...
So...I have an announcement first and foremost:
I'm going to adapt the RP from this chat into a proper story. As you can...heh...see from the number of messages this bot has... that's gonna take a while. Heh...oops...got carried away lol😅
Fair warning: Updates may be slow, as I have a full time job, a cat to care for, and a lot of personal stuff in between. Life's been a bit rocky for me, but I really want to make this story happen. I grew up with this fandom, and could never truly leave it. Toby has been my favorite character for over a decade, and it felt so nice having him portrayed in a realistic way within this chat. It also seems like the mods enjoy our RP as well, as they have issued me an incredibly heartwarming request...
So um...yeah. Hehe... it seems like my writing has peaked some interest within this chat...and they want me to rewrite Toby's origin story.
I understand Grisgrisdoll/Kastoway/whatever they are called now has had their drama and left the fandom and all that. This post isn't about them. This is about Toby, a character that I've held close to me for over a decade.
...I want to give him the backstory he deserves. I reread the original...and it's very...dated. I understand Grisgrisdoll/Kastoway wrote this when they were...what...12? 13? Obviously, nothing written by anyone in that age range will be Shakespeare lol. However, it's a decent base...and I want to build a house on top of it.
I want to rewrite Ticci Toby's backstory. Or, at the very least, retell it in my own writing style.
I DO NOT TAKE CREDIT FOR TICCI TOBY! HE BELONGS TO GRISGRISDOLL/KASTOWAY! I KNOW THEY'VE DISAVOWED THE FANDOM AND WHATNOT, BUT I STILL WANT TO CREDIT THE RIGHT PERSON. This is their original character at the end of the day, regardless of if they claim him anymore or not.
All I ask for...is your guys' support and...I guess "permission"... To do this. I would love to rewrite such an important story to the fandom, and modernize it. I want to do Toby justice with his origin story.
I want to bring Creepypasta into a new era. No more overly edgy word choice and needlessly complicated, backrooms-level explanations for why things happen. No more botched and forced mental illness depictions. No...I want to make something *realistic.* I want this to be a story anyone outside of the fandom can read and enjoy. I want to take this seriously.
I've been in this fandom since early middle school. I was 11 when Ticci Toby first debuted... I'm 22 and I still adore this character. I adore the headcanons fans made. I adore the fanart (@pink-key, your Toby is adorable hehe~). I adore the memes. I adore all things Ticci Toby.
I reread his origin story and updated character bio, and... they're severely dated. They're in desperate need of modernization and revamping. I say this because I've noticed throughout the fandom that no one can truly pinpoint down what his personality is, so he teeters between "Murderous, evil monster who will cut your throat for breathing his air and paint the walls red with your blood," or "uwu softie boy with tourettes who falls for every girl he sees" or something else that isn't quite accurate to the character.
I want to do him justice.
All I ask for is your support. I'll get started ASAP if you guys are cool with this.
Thank you for listening.
Oh, and one more thing. This has been a big pet peeve of mine since I came into this fandom, and I know it may not even be relevant anymore. It was just...something small that always bothered me, I want to rectify that right here. Right now.
Ahem...
'DON'T YOU DARE FORGET THE SUN' BY GET SCARED WAS NOT A GOOD SONG FOR TOBY! THE AUDIO MIXING AND PRODUCTION AREN'T GREAT AND THE LYRICS ARE LACKLUSTER AND UNRELATED TO TOBY!
IN FACT...
SCREW THE SUN! WE'RE IN THE HOUSE OF WOLVES NOW! THIS IS TOBY'S SONG AND I WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY QUESTIONS! THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!
youtube
Edit: lollllll I'm a boomer. It's all ai. There are no mods lolllllll Idk how these things work. I was just getting such amazing, in depth, and relevant responses that I assumed people were writing them hahahaha! Eh, the fact that an AI was able to flow with me so well is both hilarious and gives me hope.
#creepypasta#toby erin rogers#ticci toby x y/n#toby rogers#ticci toby#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fanfic#creepypasta fandom#ticci toby fanfic#story rewrite#creepypasta memes#announcement#my chemical romance#mcr#horror#slashers#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby creepypasta#ticci tobi#please let me write this#I would love to do this#I adore Toby so much and want to do him justice#i can handle it#trust me#Youtube
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'Reminder that "punch a nazi uwu" leftists utilize Nazi rhetoric to justify punching Jews.
It was never about punching Nazis; it was about getting social permission to punch.'
It was this very mentality that drove me away from considering myself a liberal anymore (I AM VERY MUCH LEFT LEANING, I DIDN'T DECIDE TO BECOME CONSERVATIVE JUST TO BE CLEAR. I just don't feel like those spaces have any intrinsic safety any longer). It feels like so much of western leftism has become about "punching up". I don't think it's about compassion or concern anymore, it's about finding the "right" targets. And so often that was just used as a way to excuse bigotry. I'm a goy but I noticed this on a personal level plenty with people identifying as feminists, they'd be perfectly okay saying something unquestionably sexist, as long as "white women" was attached onto the front.
It's very much the same with shaming people over physical features that others may have, as long as the individual person is "bad enough" it doesn't matter if wide foreheads or big noses or acne are features many people have and would feel hurt by seeing them used as an insult, because they're only "really" directing it at "one of the bad ones"
So, I'm going to link to this piece again because it's been embarrassingly useful, and explains why I say things like "pretending to believe" despite their clunkiness. For new material, I hope you don't mind that you have accidentally triggered a massive unskippable cutscene, but you tapped into a few things I have been pondering and I'd like to take advantage of your observances to add my own.
Part of what you're discussing here, which I agree with, is that toxic slacktivists pretend to believe that they are Good People Doing Good Work. They are Bad People and their work is Bad Work, but if they all get in a group and pretend together that it's Good, then that's almost the same as being Good, right?
Another worthwhile aspect of what you're discussing is something I became aware of in the aftermath of the collapse of Occupy Wall Street. One commenter on a liberal blog I still follow lamented that mass protest never seems to accomplish anything, and how the millions of people who turned out for OWS protests should have affected more political change. Considering most of them could also vote, write to representatives, etc., something other than littering and arrests could've been done.
Another commenter pointed out that he had personally been at most of the anti-Iraq War protests, including the largest worldwide protest on 15 February 2003 (6-10 million estimated participants). But most of those protesters did not agree with each other. There were at least four major coalitions of antiwar protesters showing up then and thereafter. The ones he listed were:
"Just war" advocates who believed the Iraq War was unjust.
Total pacifists who believed all armed conflicts are unjust, and therefore the Iraq War is as well.
Right-wing bigots who believed a war might potentially benefit those they thought of as religiously or ethnically inferior and subhuman.
Xenophobes, both left- and right-wing, who believed "the US can't be the police of the world" and that any action taken outside USian borders was immoral.
Imagine four people with these beliefs in a room talking about the Iraq War... then bring up the war in Ukraine to them and see how fast the coalition falls apart.
"Well, the war for Ukrainian liberation is a just war," says the just-war advocate. The pacifist starts to scream "HOW COULD YOU DEFEND ANY ACTION THAT MIGHT LEAD TO CHILDREN DYING, YOU MONSTER!". The right-wing bigot says they support the war, too--on the side of the ethnically and religiously superior Russians. And then a left-wing xenophobe says we're wasting money that should be supporting American workers and uplifting Americans out of poverty instead of buying new bombs for Ukraine.
And your "antiwar" coalition collapses, with the pacifist wandering off to agree with the xenophobe while the just-war liberal and the right-wing bigot scream at each other pointlessly and without resolution.
This is one of the wisest breakdowns of human behavior I have ever discovered:
Any coalition of people is made up of many sub-coalitions who only temporarily agree on a single aspect of a single issue. Making sure the group does not collapse prematurely is the true, unsung labor of movement maintenance.
To be real, it's much easier to let one's coalition collapse and scream about how The Menz, or The CIA, or Greedy Capitalists, or The Jews artificially forced your group's collapse than it is to admit that one might just suck a big one at coalition building. This is especially true among leftists, who are sometimes anti-hierarchy and frequently fall for populist, anti-expert nonsense. Having a leader means you're suggesting someone should have authority, and a lot of leftists are allergic to that suggestion.
Moreover, though, a lot of "leftists" are "leftists" but only agree with one or two aspects of leftism.
To use your feminism example: I have absolutely seen feminists who think they can be misogynists so long as they say "white" before they say "woman". I mean, who can even argue? I have also seen feminists who think they can be gender bioessentialists so long as they're doing it towards "men" (a category which includes a lot of people who neither look like men, nor live as men, nor benefit from male privilege). I have seen feminists who think they can call themselves "trans allies" while consistently ignoring, degrading, and dismissing the concerns of anyone who isn't a binary trans woman. Etc.
The thing is, they are all feminists. What makes someone a feminist, at bottom, is the acceptance of and opposition to patriarchy. That's it. It's similar to how what makes a person a Protestant Christian is the acceptance of Jesus as their Lord and Savior--you might need to do one or two things to be considered a part of a specific branch of Christianity, but all you need is that one specific belief about that one specific idea. There's a lot of bunk about how "you can't be a REAL Christian unless you do X" just like there's bunk about how "you can't be a REAL feminist unless you do Y", and it's all bunk.
There are people who might be really bad feminists or Christians, but that's not the same as not being feminists or Christians.
So, the coalition of leftism has several sub-coalitions who actually despise each other. Here is my proposal for the sub-coalitions. (Please keep in mind that I am not defining groups by how they define themselves, but by the far more useful metric of their actions.)
Liberals who agree with leftist economic thought, but strongly disagree with leftist conclusions regarding violent revolution. Liberals do not have time for online arguments and superficial action. They are generally participating in protests, running for office, writing postcards to advocate for candidates, informing voters, and working within the system for positive change that alleviates suffering. They are pro-expert but opposed to a vanguard party due to its inherent authoritarianism.
Tankies, whose primary interest in leftism is authoritarian. They oppose capitalism and support violent revolution because they imagine themselves as the vanguard party who gets to control everything when the revolution comes.
Anarchists, whose primary interest is opposing hierarchy. They want to burn down the system because it is a system, and frequently become angry and defensive if you try to ask them any questions about what would be built out of the ashes.
Progressives, whose primary interest is opposing liberals. They also oppose capitalism; they are, like tankies, positioning themselves as the vanguard party because they are already in political power. What makes them Not Tankies is that they care more about sticking it to "the Dems" than they do about actually being the vanguard, opposing capitalism, or achieving anything of worth or meaning politically.
"Red fash", who used to be called "beefsteak Nazis". They say all the right things regarding violent revolution and economics/capitalism, but they only believe what they believe for the sake of their specific ethnic group and nation (frequently, white and USian, but this is extremely popular in Europe too). IOW a red fash wants the vanguard party to only have whites of a specific ethnicity in control of the revolution; they only want universal health care for "their" people, that sort of thing. Some red fash are actual Nazis cosplaying as leftists, but some are just really, really, REALLY bigoted leftists.
Whether we like it or note, the acceptance of armed, violent revolution as a Good Thing means that leftism has always regarded punching up and violence as a necessary component of leftist thought. This is not a perversion of Real Leftism. This is leftism. If you think revolution is good and necessary instead of a terrifying possibility, then you also think punching up is okay; it's just a matter of who is Up and who gets to punch.
Of the five sub-coalitions I described, only one has rejected violent revolution--and it's the one all the other leftists accuse of being right-wing. And interestingly enough, only liberals are habitually accused of secretly colluding with the right... when red fash are natural allies to the right, and when all other forms of leftists openly ally with right-wingers so long as they say the right things about economics. (See under: "After Hitler, us" leftists, left-wing Trumpistas who think they'll rule the ashes after Trump burns down the current system.)
And if you believe in violent revolution, then (let me be facetious for a second) what's the problem with making fun of your political enemies for being ugly? If we believe Steve Bannon is a Nazi, aren't we obligated to stop him by any means necessary, and doesn't that include mocking him for his alcoholism? Isn't mocking someone for their appearance and intrinsic characteristics mild compared to, say, threatening them with exploding cars covered with hammers? Or retweeting pictures of pitchforks and guillotines?
If we believe Ben Shapiro is an opponent to the revolution we accept is necessary and vital to the movement, then what's a little antisemitism in the name of the people? Don't we have to be bigots to oppose bigots? And--
--oh. There's that horseshoe bending round to the right again.
#leftist antisemitism#horseshoe theory#coalition failure#political analysis#from someone who never attended college but who is old and has seen and read a lot. to be fair#the people most likely to die in your violent revolution are the people most likely to die under capitalism#the people who advocate the hardest for violent revolution are those most convinced they will live through it#as for me. well. i already live under threat of constant violence and kind of don't look forward to it#so a political philosophy that fetishizes violence was never going to fit me very well
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honestly I haven’t been that involved with the whole Alex stuff but am I somewhat not surprised how Chezz and many others are acting this way since the whole “the holier than thou” and “oh don’t worry guys I’m unproblematic and safe uwu” stuff some analog makers have if that explains it and please correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t one of the people that “came out” like also tried accusing Martin of the same shit? Like what.
Honestly I don’t wanna accuse people of anything but I would not be surprised if one day something similar comes out about them.
it’s just feeding a monster that will soon come to bite them in the ass.
I'm pretty sure it's Mitcha who started the grooming thing (always has to be them huh). They also went against Alex but the thing that confuses me is that they warned him about Ven making a callout doc... so, are they a hater or not? I don't know about that whole thing really well because I'm a donut specialist© but searching around the alex tag you'll finds tons of information about them.
100% my friend. Alex tried the same thing back then with Urbanspook and it just reflected back to him like a boomerang. This thing with pretending that you're better than everyone else is complete bullshit, because good people don't have to prove to anyone that they're good in the first place. Same thing with humility. People who are humble don't go around screaming "LOOK! I'M HUMBLE!!! LOOK AT ALL MY GOOD ACTIONS!!" because they don't need to. They show it through their actions and people see them and recognize them as such.
Chezz and Martin are disgusting people that try to mask their filth with a facade of kindness and acceptance. They try to pander to as many people as possible to convince the world that they're genuinely "good"; and to do that, they go for the narrative that's most widespread and accepted by the general public. Because if they would dare to even think about going against the masses, people would pile up on them. And they will do ANYTHING to prevent it from happening. What Martin fears the most (aside from cats apparently) is people hating on him. The guy is so fucking insecure that some mean things said about his series prompted him to take a year-long break. Oh and on this topic I recommend that you check out Radal's reaction to The Walten Files. It's funny and it pisses off Martin so win-win. Their public image is everything they have, they don't care about being genuine. If people will pat their backs and praise them for their behavior and "courage", that's good enough in their books. Same thing with donut, the slanderer queen and master of the anti-alex death cult.
So, don't ever trust people who are too overly accepting of everything, everyone, all the time. Especially if it is compatible with modern culture and media. EVERYONE has the things that they hate, the things that they disagree with. Milquetoast creators like Alex Kaizo and Tyler Osborne, who will just nod along to whatever their audience says and not even conjure a single original thought of their own because they're too afraid to face backlash are fake. They're all plastic without a hint of morality in themselves.
Also, it will DEFINITELY bite them in their asses. Believe me. Kwite and Squizzy collaborated with Slazo's ex girlfriend to try and cancel him over false allegations of abuse. Both of them got canceled. Alex went along the mob and tried to cancel Urbanspook because that was the hip new thing to do at the time. He got canceled as well. It's just something that happens on the internet, and it'll never change because people are willing to remain or at least pretend to be dumb if it gives them likes and a bit of notoriety. Nobody is perfect, and if a meh relationship was enough to get Alex to face all this shit, who knows what will be the catalyst of the next drama. Martin and Chezz are horrible people that do not deserve the audiences that they have. I am without a doubt when I say that they HAVE done something infinitely worse than this. Chezzkids is a serial clout-chaser and grifter, who let the little "fame" he got after calling Urban names (just like the toddler he is) get to his head and inflate his ego to an immense degree. People who are too full of themselves and think they're the best of the best mess up due to a lack of forethought. They are so confident in their abilities that they won't even think about if what they're doing is the right decision to make. And that's why the twat won't ever back down. He's too egotistical to accept defeat just like Ven's cult members defenders. If Chezz is willing to stain the relationship he had with Alex over some crappy highschool level drama, you can already pinpoint his morals and character, and how he truly treats others within his vicinity.
Martin has a server with a security tighter than the CIA. He's afraid to bite the hand that feeds him but it will punch him back when time is most appropriate; despite the lengths he will go to try to keep his image squeaky clean. One can only imagine the shit he has in there and when it'll eventually surface.
Urban "boogeyman" Spook is a better person than 99% of these cardboard cutouts that dare to call themselves creators. They can only destroy. All they create is hate, the sole things they know how to spread are lies and manipulation. They're nothing more than greedy, hateful, cowardly sycophants.
Phew. I feel a lot better now. Thank you for the ask, anon! I hope you're doing fantastic today 🫶
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TanZen Week Day 2 - Haori / Proposal / Soulmates AU / Monsters
I hope these upload in order
HIIII AGAIN!! let's go with the second day
You might think that I'm only fond of long haired Zenitsu, but no! I love Tanjiro with long hair too. A real shame he didn't have more screen time haha :'(
Originally it was just going to be the first image for this prompt, which is based on a drawing of Tsubasa Reservoir (should I attach it too?) because I really couldn't figure out what to do. But, a couple of days ago, the inspiration came to me resulting on this little comic uwu.
I don't go too deep into the story, but basically Tanjiro is a demon that doesn't eat humans and tries to stay as far away from them as possible, living by himself up in the mountain (?). While Zenitsu is an orphan with no one to look out after him.
Somehow they meet, either because one or the other goes down or up the mountain. And, after Zenitsu gets the scare of his life thinking he would be eaten, they become friends (because of course Tanijrou's sound is still kind).
Eventually their feelings go beyond friendship and well, the mutual pinning starts haha
The idea of taking a bite out of your partner upon marriage (engagement?) comes from Tokyo Ghoul, and I thought it would be cute if a scaredy-cat like Zenitsu was willing to go to such lengths just to make things right for the one he loves. I really don't think Tanjirou actually bit him though haha
So this is all for today. Thank you for your support :'D you make me very happy.
Remember that I am also on Twitter at @ shizychan
See you tomorrow!
@tanzenweek
#tanzenweek2022#tanzen#zentan#tanjiro x zenitsu#kimetsu no yaiba#I wanted to give a more sketchy vibe this time#Hopefully I got it right haha#also you can see that I pretty much gave up with drawing backgrounds#ah#sorry#thank you again for your support#it is very much appreciated#sorry for the bad english#zenitsu agatsuma#tanjiro kamado#my art
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So, I did Latin for 7 years. WAIT, STOP HEAR ME OUT!
I did my final school exam on Ovid's "Metamorphoses" and the one thing that significantly shaped my view on media was Ovid's understanding of love.
When we think about romance and romantic love today, we tend to think of it as a saving grace, something that completes you. Falling in love in fiction implies a positive bond, something that will eventually help you. There are whole subgenres on the idea that "Love can save you"; "The Power of Love" is a pretty famous trope, right?
Now, Ovid also saw falling in love as a strong but, alas not always one that saves you. In almost every myth he reinterpreted in his "Metamorphoses" love creates - but only through destruction. Here, love is a force of nature, something even the gods aren't immune against. Love is rapturous and terrifying, more an uncontrollable forest fire than a tender candle flame. Love is complicated, the very act of falling so big that no one can even measure the effects it will have on the individual, the community, the world.
One of my favourite scenes in the poetic cycle tells the story about Apollo arguing with Cupido (son of Venus, basically her right hand). It goes like this:
Young Apollo just slew a beast. Standing on it, bloody bow in hand, he spots Cupido and brags: "Look at my skill, my power. I am the element tipping scales in wars, only one hit with my arrow is enough to kill the most gigantic monsters. What can you do with your weak bow, your mediocre arrows? Love, this feeble thing? Forever I will be the better archer between the both of us."
And Cupido, angry, just smiles: "My arrow may not kill any beast in one strike, but it'll strike you. And it'll destroy.
And it does. Apollo gets hit by an arrow and immediately falls in love with the nymph Daphne. Cupido also hits her with an arrow, not one for love but for eternal hate.
Long story short: Apollo runs after her, she begs her father, a river, to help her. He transforms her into a laurel tree, causing Apollo's heart to break. This is why he gets portrayed with a laurel crown in mythological pictures. He wears it to never forget his first love.
This, btw, is one of a gazillion stories where Apollo falls in love with someone and that person dies, gets transformed into flora or eternally hates him. Just because he messed with Cupido once (1)! Cupido and his mother Venus are incredibly petty and power hungry. Ovid's message is rather clear: do not fuck with love! Do not underestimate it! Don't try controlling the forest fire, you will burn yourself.
Love and the loss of it, in Ovids works, is more often than not associated with pain, sometimes implied to be worse than death, sometimes implied to be better than heaven. It creates, it destroys, it lets you learn and fall and stand up again. Love isn't something positive (or negative) - it just is. And you have to deal with that, whether you like it or not.
And I love the implications with this conceptualisation, because love hurts although it may be right, it may be cute, it may be essential. "Uwu such a cute romance sto-" NO. Cute? Love isn't cute, love is bigger than your tiny, short, pathetic life. Love is uncontrollable. Love is chaos.
Sooo, this is a fandom post after all, so I'll get to Stolitz now. If you're just here for me fangirling about Ovid (love that guy, we stan someone that knows his metrics), you can check out now. Hope you had fun reading!
If you think about love like Ovid things about it, isn't it oh-so-understandable why Blitzø fears it so much? It ties you to someone, you float in an ocean and everywhere you look, you see only horizon and waves. And for someone that only has experience with how love destroys (flashback with Fizz birthday, also whatever the fuck happened with his twin sister Barbie) falling of course feels like fucking drowning. You try to act normal, as if there would be normal ground under your feet. You don't try to swim (why bother? Never worked out anyway) and because you don't even try, you start sinking, choking on your own infatuation, with no safe haven, no anchor, no land in sight. You're alone, lungs filling with water, slowly losing consciousness while the sounds of the earth above you are getting quieter, the world desaturated of its colour.
"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?" - Of course he is? Why wouldn't he? Are you afraid of forest fires?
And to add on that: he feels completely alone in his own conscious, his emotions for Stolas. Because like hell he'd be vulnerable in front of his friends or crush. He's way to deep anyway, everything is dark blue. No one will hear you and even if: you would not want them to listen. Blitzø wants to drown in silence, not having a say in if he drowns at all because, like I said, love is way too big for you to control.
Similar with Stolas, although his view on the fire isn't that pessimistic. He knows how powerful emotions are and doesn't even try to contain them. At first, he almost revels in the waves. Did you ever swim at night, the stars above you multiplied by the water below you? There is nothing but the waves and the stars and the sky. There is nothing, there is everything. Stolas likes loving, he sees beauty and contempt in it. But eventually he sees that there isn't land in sight, that you alone cannot survive this vastness of nature also.
You cannot control the Ocean, cannot control the forest fire, but you can try to coordinate. This is the only way to survive this terrifying ordeal called love.
So he swims, tries to swim at least and he looks for Blitzø, realising they'll both go down with this relationship if they won't find the other between the waves. And he swims and swims, screaming, while Blitzø drowns him out. He cannot hear him, because he cannot accept that pretending there is land under your feet won't magically make the ocean disappear. He'd need to swim, but what good did that ever cause him?
Ok that's all. Thank you. :)
#helluva boss#stolitz#about love#ovid#latin mythology#asexual#aromantic#thought soup#mythology#romance#fiction#writing
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loving this influx of followers and interacts! <3 pls feel free to msg me and if anyone's interested and i can open up requests so i have an excuse to write more juicy content uwu
actually pls msg me i'm going to run out of oneshot ideas eventually and just be sad
Stay With Me | Canonverse Fluff Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.6k
✧ notes ➼ canonverse, slight divergence from s4 plot (idk i wrote this in the middle of the night ok), just overall sweetness ♡
The sun had just set and you knew you had roughly 10 hours before you had to leave to face both Eren and Zeke, who had full control of the Titans on the island and were leading them down a path of destruction.
You stood outside your tent as you took off your cloak. As your eyes traced over the symbol of the Scouts that was supposed to symbolize the wings of freedom, you felt your breath hitch. Nearly everyone that you had met when you first got initiated into the Scouts all those years ago was gone. It was now literally only you, Hange, and Levi—maybe even less after the battle the following day.
The odds were overwhelmingly against you. The enemy had the ability to transform into deadly Titans. Your ranks have been devastated by just Zeke alone and now you were going to face off against both Zeke and Eren with minimal forces.
Levi was an Ackerman that had a stupid amount of strength when it came to combat. While you could not be fairly compared to Humanity's Strongest Soldier™, you were also a formidable force on the battlefield. However, those factors paled when it came to the Jaeger brothers. Zeke alone, even while injured, brought both of you to the brink of death through a cleverly set trap. If the cards hadn't lined up correctly, both you and Levi would be dead.
A part of you did wish that you had just died so that you could join your fallen comrades, but you knew how much that would destroy Levi.
With a solemn look on your face, you gently undid the buckles around your waist that held your mobility gear in place. As you raised your arms off to pull the harness over your head, you felt a sharp pain on your upper right side and let go of the harness as you lowered your arm, letting out a soft groan of pain.
You took a deep breath as you prepared to lift your harness over your head again.
However, before you were even able to exert any force to lift it, you felt someone walk up behind you and the harness was gently raised off of you. You glanced back and saw that Levi had noticed you struggling and came over to help.
“How’s your wound?” he asked quietly.
"I feel pathetic," you whispered without answering his question, watching as he set your gear down next to your tent. “How the hell am I supposed to fight those two monsters if I can’t even take my own gear off?”
Levi remained quiet as you spoke, lifting up your right arm to check on your bandaging. Seeing that it was starting to come undone, he gently nudged you towards his own tent.
“Come, I’ll swap out your gauze.”
~~~~~
You sat on the floor of Levi's tent with your arm raised, staring at the door with a blank expression as he unwrapped the old bandaging and began replacing it with new ones. You frowned as you saw the fresh blood that had begun to stain the old set of bandages. Levi had said that your bandages were becoming undone, but it seems that the wound had started bleeding again as well.
You looked over at him, grief entering your heart as you thought about what the most likely outcome was for tomorrow's battle that was rapidly approaching.
Once he was done, you both got out of his tent and saw that the majority of the remaining Scouts had gone to sleep in their individual tents. You turned towards him without quite making eye contact and spoke quietly.
“Big day tomorrow.”
"Yeah?" he replied, matching your volume.
"We might not survive this battle," you said with your voice devoid of emotion.
“I know.”
“He already fucked us both over when we least expected it. We should be prepared for anything.”
"I know," he repeated. He knew what you were trying to say. He knew about the thoughts that were running through your mind about not surviving the upcoming battle.
You sighed tiredly as you began to turn and leave for your own tent, unsure if you were going to be able to get any sleep.
"Wait," Levi said before placing his hand on your arm to keep you from turning further. His voice was so quiet it was barely audible.
You stopped turning, but frowned.
“You going to take me off the mission again?”
“No,” he said before pausing, as if he was thinking about how to choose his words carefully.
As you watched him, you realized you knew where his train of thought was going. You felt your heart pounding harder and harder as you slowly looked up at him, staring right into his steel blue eyes.
It was agonizing for the both of you to stand there, wondering what the others' next move was going to be. You both knew what you wanted, and what the other other was offering. You've known it for years at this point. You knew when you brought it up the night before the battle of Shiganshina. You knew when you brought it up at your camp a few weeks ago before Zeke got away. You've known, but by the time you were ready to address it, disaster had struck and you ran out of time.
As a result, Levi felt incredibly pressured on this final night before a big battle. You both had a very close call where you lost nearly everything. It was a miracle that you were still alive.
Before you could think of a proper response, he pulled you into a gentle kiss, relief soaring through his body as he felt you relax into him. He knew why he had latched so hard onto the idea of protecting you. He knew why his mind became murky and cloudy upon the idea of you being in danger. He knew why he was absolutely devastated when he saw your state after the explosion. He had loved you all along, but was too scared to acknowledge it.
You stood there for a few seconds before he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.
“Keep this between us,” he whispered. “And don’t-”
“-die on me, you idiot.”
You finished his sentence for him with a small smirk before pulling back and looking up at him. He had noticed that you were slightly blushing and he found himself in one of the rare instances in which he was smiling and sustaining it for more than 5 seconds.
“I’ll see you tomorrow…Levi.”
You shot him another smile as you said his name.
He felt his own smile fade away as you shuffled around, preparing to turn and walk away. His grip on you tightened a bit, signaling you to stop turning. The idea of being away from you placed a strong pressure on his chest that was making it hard for him to breathe properly.
“Stay with me tonight.”
"Hmm?" you said quietly, looking up into his eyes again.
“If we might not live to see tomorrow, then stay with me tonight.”
Your gaze softened as he spoke.
“What happened to keeping this between us?”
"I'm sure I'll think of something," he said as he gently nudged you and you both walked back into his tent.
You were both short enough to be able to fully stand even inside the tent. For the first time ever since you first met him, you felt nervous around him, suddenly aware of the weight that your words now mean to him. Given Levi's past, you recognized that it likely took every ounce of strength he had in him to make that first move.
You saw him begin to take off his own mobility gear and you slowly moved your arm up and down to try to ease the newly wrapped bandages in.
He noticed your movements and walked over to you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around to face him.
"Don’t move around too much or it’ll open again. We’re going to run out of bandages eventually."
"Well, I'm not going to be able to sit still while in battle, am I?"
He gave you an exasperated look.
"At least make it so that you don't bleed out in your sleep. You'll stain the sleeping bag."
You had to stifle a chuckle at his comment. Even in this very post-apocalyptic scenario in which you were surrounded by death and destruction, Levi Ackermann was still a neat freak.
"You know, I'm surprised you're even okay with a sleeping bag, given how dirty it can get sleeping on the ground," you teased, a playful grin showing on your face.
"I'm not, but it's not like we have much of a choice."
Just as you were about to retort with some ridiculous, unrealistic method to maintain his need to be clean despite being in the middle of the woods, he had pulled you into another kiss, although you weren't sure if it was just his way of shutting you up.
Regardless, you didn't mind. You shut your eyes as you pressed your body up against him.
Even if you might not survive to see the day after, even if disaster continued to strike, even if you might never see him again, you acknowledged that you at least had him here now—embracing you and loving you like nothing else existed except for the two of you in this very moment.
A/N: yes you can probably tell they're going to do the naughty but it's sweet uwu-vibes naughty
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi heichou x reader#captain levi x reader#levi fluff#levi#levi ackerman#levi heichou#captain levi#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyoujin#snk
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Bruhhh…seeing the Insatiable post gave me so many flash backs I didn’t even have to reread it again. Got some questions bout our HEA.
How many babies we having with each man? What their names/gender?
How the overall new relationship workin? We like a divorced child in custody and every other month we go to the others house/kingdom for the time?
Would tentacle hubby still kill our former hubby if he still posed as a threat in the future to us, his “soul mate?”
We just adjusting to our blissful new life and giving up, or drugged up living in fear most of the time?
Honestly…I still love your works, but this fic is one of the ones where I would’ve just loved it if yandere killed our former lover. Cause it’s just a MASSIVE ICK of mine personally when a lover is neglectful and abusive and then becomes all uwu “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I take it back, I really love you.” Bruhhhhh NO!!!!!!! I am team tentacle monster ride or die all the way baby!!!!!!! No looking back at ex hubby!!!!!!!!!
I never thought too much on kids and the long term effect of the strange relationship. It was just meant to be a spicy smut with elements of obsession (my favorite).
But I will be real with you, Etrian would kill Cedric if the story went on. Etrian hates Cedric with a burning passion and if you so much as voiced your distaste towards the man, he’d do it. Etrian simply enjoys entertainment and Cedric’s reactions are funny to him.
Also! Xi on Quotev made me fan art of Etrian today! Isn’t it near?
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I am not hijacking yet another one of scoobydoodean's posts for an Amy discussion (been there, done that), so I'm copying the whole thing over here:
@pendragony
Thinking about the conversation in the comments of the latest instalment of @ani-coolgirl ‘s awesome ‘Every first time’ wincest project re Dean killing Amy.
The thing about Sam is, for all the puppy dog, baby girl, uwu vibes, that man is also a stone cold killer who is capable of going right off the reservation without his brother acting as a moral compass. And Dean is used to clearing up his family’s messes. So, while there’s a lot of other stuff to consider, Dean quietly going to do what his mentally ill and morally questionable brother couldn’t, and then trying to ensure his peace by not telling him stuff that would hurt him, is also classic big brotherism on Dean’s part. It reminds me of his reaction to the Meg possession and finding out Sam killed a hunter - tidy up after little brother, and nobody needs to know.
Both brothers are willing to monster themselves in order to save the other.
@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @blue-chimera
Do I understand why Dean killed Amy? Yes. Do I agree that it was, in their world, something that needed to be done? Yeah, I guess. Do I understand why Dean felt like he needed to do it behind Sam's back and then lie to him about it? From Dean's pov? Yes, but it still makes me want to shake him. Narratively, I get it. But there is a very loud voice in my head that goes, "Dude, that was an asshole move."
Like, Amy basically was what Sam had briefly suggested they become way back in Time is on My Side (3x15). She killed only to save the life of her son. She made an effort to kill those she considered to be bad people, trying to make the act feel less bad. But otherwise she had structured her life around not killing humans, finding "ethical" ways to source what she and her son needed. This is basically what Sam was thinking about when considering if they could somehow use Doc Benton's methods to loophole out of Dean's deal.
One of the things that I really like about Supernatural's story is how the boys are constantly dancing along a knife's edge of becoming the monsters that they hunt. And for the first half of the series, Sam was most often the one in danger of slipping, and his innate morality is less clear cut than Dean's so he relies heavily on Dean to help determine the right course of action. But as the series goes on, as Sam better figures himself out (has the pride beaten out of him by the story), Dean becomes the one losing his way. The Amy situation, happening at the beginning of season 7, is around the tipping point for this shift, and I think that may be part of why it stands out and causes so much passionate discussion.
But, I don't know, as always, I just wished they'd talk to each other about shit, lol!
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Ok so. I'm in the DBZ fandom-- shocking I know-- and a fairly prominent anti just got some... Very pointed hate. Now I'm forever in the camp of NEVER SEND ANON HATE. Sending anon hate is DISGUSTING. But the way this person brushes it off and the cognitive dissonance is just *chef's kiss* like good lord imagine being this far out of the loop.
My brother in christ that anon is right you are very much having a proshipping opinion right now. I'm so sorry but your definition for proship is so fucking incorrect. By most anti standards, thinking it's okay to ship with a genocidal world-destroying galactic emperor because he's not real and villainy is hot is VERY MUCH a proship thing jsjwksndjd the fuck😂 I get death and doxx threats for shipping with a NON-GENOCIDAL villain. Who are you trying to fool? How have you gotten to this point without getting bodied? You're like those Furry antis who are shocked when other antis send them hate about smooching animals.
As an aside... Waving away "child exploitation" (you cannot exploit someone who doesn't exist! Jwjsjwodjdn) by saying some shit like "oh we only give the kids we trained to be murder monsters BABY JOBS so it's not ACTUAL exploitation UwU their whole race are forced into being warriors at a young age so Vegeta doesn't actually count as a child anyway" is just... That's so fucking funny to me. "I have decided that this kid, who I choose to believe is never given dangerous jobs despite any and all canon evidence to the contrary, is not being exploited because the man who killed his friends and family and forced him into indentured servitude is BETTER THAN THAT". Like buddy they sent a newborn Saiyan baby to conquer a planet by himself and don't bother even going to check on him until he was old enough to procreate. You have picked one hell of a hill to die on. Laughing so hard I'm crying. Shit like this is the reason I bother following the "#fri//eza" topic/tag. As a fellow Lord Freeza enjoyer I am begging y'all to stop making weird excuses for him before I die laughing.
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Shadow and bone rant
Was shadow and bone S2 a good one? It was enjoyable. It was watchable. That's it.
For those of us who have read the books it was a huge mess.
Let's talk first about the grisha trilogy.
They joined book 2 and 3 (and crooked kingdom for some fucking reason, but I'll get to that later) and just rushed through the plot.
While I'm not the biggest fan of the trilogy and SOC is one of my favorite books ever, I still think the crows had no business being there. They just took too much screentime, something I usually wouldn't complain about but now I am. The sword subplot alone would have been okay. The rest? What the fuck was that??
Due to this, we didn't get to see the actual story of Sab. And don't get me wrong, I wasn't expecting a word by word adaptation, but this felt.... The characters weren't themselves.
Nikolai felt incredibly plain. He was just a nice guy. But where was his wit? His charm? His "my mother was an oyster, I'm the pearl". Where was his personality?
Also, he never loved Alina, and Alina didn't love him. Why would they push this narrative?
Everyone loves the darkling because he is charismatic and a master manipulator. This season he was just a dying guy. He didn't feel threatening. He didn't feel like the villain at all.
Zoya was completely sidelined for Alina. My girl had like 3 scenes and she didn't do much. In the book we saw rare moments of vulnerability, saw her friendship with Alina and genya grow. But she was still the cold bitch everyone loves because that's what makes Zoya Zoya.
They offed David just like that, and again, replaced him with Alina in the triumvirate. And I'm so mad about this. The triumvirate was made up of the three leaders that the orders chose to lead them during the war (except for genya). There are one of each order so the darkling's favoritism wouldn't repeat, so all the orders would stand on equal ground. Again, they were leaders. Political leaders. Now we have 2 summoners and a colporalki. What about the materialki? They lost their place in Nikolai's circle.
Also, the little reunion of Alina, genya and Zoya at the end was more like "uwu besties hanging out" than, "we have the responsibility to lead the orders and rebuild the country"
Mal just left. JUST LIKE THAT. we have a season full of Malina kissing and vowing they'll spend their lives together after they destroy the fold and kill the darkling, and the dude just leaves. Not just leaves, BECOMES STURMHOND. Do the writers know what sturmhond means to Nikolai? He would NEVER let any other person, least of all Mal take over the role.
And the twins left with him. The twins would never leave Nikolai.
Also Tolya, canonically ace, giving inej heart eyes????
And Alina. Where was her internal struggle? She kept her powers and is ready to become queen? And marry Nikolai??? She never wanted the crown. She never loved Nikolai. She only wanted to disappear into the sunset with mal and open an orphanage to help children like her. She literally told Nikolai that Zoya would make a better queen, hinting at zoyalai.
The whole point of Alina's character was that she was just a girl. She was just a girl turned saint, something she didn't want, with an enormous power she never asked for. She was just a girl who wanted a normal life but had to play the hero at 17. By the end of ruin and rising, she is exhausted, weary, drained. She faked her own death so people would leave her alone, so she could retire to the middle of nowhere with Mal and live a quiet life.
Now they're making her Nikolai's betrothed, future queen of Ravka, and... Evil? After she fought so hard to not become a monster like the darkling??
And where's the religion??? A huge part of the grishaverse revolves around religion, especially in the grisha trilogy. The manipulation of information and public image, twisting the narrative so it fits your goals, the zeal of the masses based on that exact narrative that those in power created.... There was none of that. Only inej called Alina "Sankta Alina" but they never showed what becoming Sankta was like for Alina.
This was just... Ugh. It was not BAD, but I'm so disappointed, especially for the crows, so part 2?
#shadow and bone#six of crows#shadow and bone netflix#crooked kingdom#nikolai lantsov#the darkling#alina starkov#zoya nazyalensky
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