#but he is bested by the word humid in greek

[the-dormant-ocean]

I love the fact that Atreus just instinctively knows how to speak dead and forgotten languages but the moment Kratos says one word in Greek he's just here like

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

First!!! Ofc you don’t have to write this if it makes you uncomfortable!

Johnny Knoxville x gn!reader where reader is actually in a relationship with bam for a while and they sorta stay on set while they film something for jackass. The relationship is good at first but the rest of the crew starts to see it go down hill (doesn’t have to turn abusive or anything intense unless you want to I don’t mind either way). Reader is good friends with everyone but it’s kind of obvious that R and Johnny are pretty close. Johnny sees how reader is struggling and comes to comfort them when something shitty happens with Bam, and they end up getting together. (Maybe it’s when Bam gets fired or for the early era/story sake just leaves set)

Heat

An end to a friendship and the beginning of a new romance. As Y/N’s love for Bam smolders, the fire in their heart burns hot for Johnny.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

2.8k Words

Warnings: Very suggestive content, very crude language, flirting, jealousy, wound care, fights, drinking, kissing

An: Thank you so much for this request!!! Honestly I think this is maybe one of the best things I’ve ever written! XD Troubled relationships are a very interesting topic to delve into and I had a total blast with this one! I am on a writing kick so keep the requests coming! :D

Bam pulled you closer on his lap as you sat under the shade of a tree in between filming stunts. His skin was sticky with sweat, but so was yours, so you didn’t mind, adhering together in the thick Louisiana humidity. The guys all sat around, shooting the shit. Sweat ran down Steve’s head and into his eyebrows as he patted Johnny on the back like how you pet a big dog, “Dude! You took that like a champ!” Rubbing the back of his neck, the sun reflected off of Johnny’s glasses as he leaned his head to the side, his pretty bone structure highlighted by the sun’s golden glow, “Yeah- i'm still kind rattled from that one if I’m bein’ honest…” You chuckled as your boyfriend put the edge of the bottle to his lips, taking a swig of his beer.

Swallowing, he reached a hand around to the back of your head, grabbing your hair and roughly pulling you into a kiss. His lips were soft, but his tongue tasted like stale beer and cigarettes as he shoved it into your mouth, your teeth almost touching. Bam bit your lip just a little harder than comfortable, licking at the raw skin he exposed as he held you there. It was rough but lazy and painfully slow, making your brain buzz in the humidity. Pulling away, he grinned, pressing his forehead against yours.

He kissed you like this all the time, and you loved it. But this time, you found your eyes were still on Knoxville, and even though you couldn’t see his, you knew he was looking back at you. Johnny was your friend- when you were on set, all the guys were- but there was something about the way he looked at you that made you want to stare back at him for a little longer.

Of course, it would take Bam a while, given how self absorbed he was, but he would start to notice the little things. Like how Johnny would always show up on set with his little Starbucks coffee, and how he’d always buy you a cup too, or how you started to stand just a little too close to Johnny every now and then. The jovial laughs, the silly banter- the pining.

You lobstered in the sun, while pretty much everyone else tanned like Greek gods who were too good for SPF. Jeff, who had a similar dermatological predicament as you, came up to you on set one day, about an hour in the sun away from looking like he should be fed to a python. “Y/N- Think you could grab some sunscreen from the trailer fr’me?” Squinting in the sun, you nodded. It wasn’t even a week into filming and you had already started peeling, so it wasn't an awful idea. Leaning over your shoulder, Johnny grinned, his broad torso pressed against your back. His low voice had a smirking, suggestive tone to it, “Yeah. Why don’t I come with you?”

“I think Y/N’s fine.” Bam sighed, stepping in front of you out of nowhere. You said nothing while Johnny made it out to be a big joke like he always did, “Aww, c’mon Bam. I mean, I could even get you some for you…” The teasing tone in his voice made Bam even redder, but he tried to play it cool in front of you, “No way. You’d probably jizz in it anyway.” Bam put an arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer with enough force to make you stumble a little. Johnny's eyebrow twitched before he cracked a grin, “You know, that’s not too bad an idea. I think I'll keep that in mind!”

As you two walked away, Johnny went back to sit with the other guys in the grass. He grabbed a beer from Chris, staring out at the tree line. You and Bam had been together for almost half a year, and from what anyone could see, everything had been just fine so far- just peachy. Sure, he got a little too into the PDA stuff sometimes, which the guys would always childishly gag and roll their eyes at, but that was it. As of the past few weeks however, it really seemed to be going downhill- anyone with eyes could see that. Answering nobody but hearing everything, Steve piped up to Johnny, “I dunno, man.” He took a drawl, “S’got some kinda stick up his ass about you- Bam ‘gettin all territorial.”

“Yeah, no shit. But, I mean- it’s not like we’re fucking in the porta potties. Y/N and I are friends!” Johnny knew how you felt about him, and he especially knew how he felt about you since this whole ordeal started, but it really didn’t sound good to say it out loud like that . “Oh Cmon, they’re totally into you!” Chris, always positive, mentioned, “I mean, who wouldn’t be? I’d fuck you in the porta potty!” Chucking, Johnny sheepishly nodded, “Well, thank you, Pontius- that’s real sweet.” Ashing his cig into a dented, empty beer can, Steve sighed, “You know, if it was me, and Y/N told me they were sick of Bam’s gherkin pickle dick…I mean, I’d hit that.”

Whenever you were on set, you were usually designated as the in house nurse because you were the only one trusted to not try to get drunk from rubbing alcohol. It wasn’t like you really minded it either, but it could get a little awkward whenever any pants needed to be dropped. This was one of those situations.

Grimacing, you stared at Bam’s ass, unsure about how to approach it. The raised lines of dick shaped burn stood out from the angry pink skin of his butt, heat still radiating off of it onto the back of your hand. He groaned, bent over a folding table as you examined him, almost scared to touch it. “I- I don’t even know what to do with this…”

“Just disinfect the thi- agh! Bitch!” He groaned as you poured alcohol on the wound. His head hit the table as you wound up a pad of gauze, pressing it against his burn. Bam’s belt buckle clinked as he stood up, pulling up his black boxers and turning to face you, his pants still undone. There was an air of tension as he leaned back against the table.

“I’ve seen you eyeing Knoxville.” Annunciating every word nice and slow, he stared up at you with a look you only see in Kubrick films. “…What?” You were thrown off, especially after what you had just done for him. I mean, who confronts you after you just bandaged their ass? He grinned mockingly, “Don’t think I don’t see you. I’m not blind, Y/N.” He leaned toward you, his lips almost touching yours as he made eye contact that could kill, “Knock it off.”

Of course, Johnny would hear about this. You’d stopped talking to Bam about how you felt a while ago. Johnny seemed to listen to you better than Bam ever did, and that kinda made you feel sick. Sure, you weren’t screwing, but what you were doing was arguably worse. Of course, it wasn't like he was your therapist- he’d recommend you Johnny Cash songs and you’d tell him ideas you had for cool stunts, but whatever it was you had, it was definitely genuine.

So Johnny came up to him on set like he would any other time he had something to ask him, “Hey, Bam. You gotta sec?” He said nothing. Johnny continued, “I heard about that thing with Y/N earlier.” This got his attention. Bam turned around to him swiftly, “What?” In comparison to him, Johnny seemed totally collected, taking a step back as Bam jutted a finger in his direction, “Did they say anything to you?”

“I just mean-“ He wasn’t having any of this, “You know what? You need to stay the fuck away from them.” He squared off, like a wolf defending his territory, “If you care so damn much, why don’t you just date’em already? Clearly you don’t give a shit they’re mine.” And just like that, he stormed off. Of course, Bam was usually pissy, but he wasn’t usually this pissy- but who could blame him?

The bar top was sticky as you leaned your forearms against it, sighing. Your boyfriend invited you to come out with him, and since the moment you stepped through the door, he hadn’t said a word to you. He’d spent the whole night laughing and chatting with his buddies like you weren’t even there. A fire burnt in your stomach, nauseating you as you chased it with your beer. You seethed quietly, staring daggers into the back of his head.

“Bam.” Trying your best to sound polite, you vied for his attention. He paid you no mind, so you spoke up a little louder to be heard over the commotion of the bar, “Bam!” Oh, now he was ignoring you. The rage inside you bubbled, the kind that made your head buzz. Getting even louder, you nearly yelled, “Bam!!”

“What?!” He whipped his head around like he had any right to be mad. “Are you serious? You are such an asshole!” As you stood up from your stool, Bam shot you a look like you were crazy, “Me, an asshole? What the fuck!” The yellowing lights of the bar made his eyes even greener as he glared at you, standing over him. “You know what? I- I can't believe you! Three hours- three fucking hours and I don’t hear a word from you!” At this point, all of his buddies had gone silent, as did a good chunk of the bar. Bam pinched the space between his eyebrows, sighing, “God- do you ever stop complaining?” Fuming, you threw your hands up exhausted, shaking your head. Standing up, Bam got about an inch from your face with a snarl.

He was so close you could feel his breath hot on your face as he spat his words, “If I wanted you’t mouth off at me, I would’ve just jiggled my zipper.” Staring into his irate gaze, you couldn’t see what you ever saw in him. He was a manchild.

And that’s what led you to lean against the rough brick in the alley next to the bar, your face burning in the cold night air. Sticking a cigarette between your teeth, the flame of your lighter shivered violently, making any attempts to light it futile. You felt the heat from inside caress your skin as the door opened, a tall figure standing next to you. He spoke in a familiar, sweet accent as he held out his hand to you, “Lemme get that.”

Cupping his hand around the flame, Johnny leaned down close to you as he flicked it, amber light cascading onto his wide palms. Your eyes flitted up to him as you took a drag, pulling away. “Didn’t think I’d see you out here, Knoxville.” He chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to you, “What? Is it cause I’m asthmatic?” You took a drawl. “Yeah. Sure.”

He sighed, looking away from you as he pulled out a napkin from his pocket and passed it to you. It was crumpled, but as you unfolded it, you noticed that the blue ink scrawled on it was still wet and half smeary. “What is this- your number?” You squinted, trying to read it under the dim light of a half burnt out street lamp.

Glancing up at him, you saw Johnny with a genuine expression of concern, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He noticed your wide eyes and covered up his worry with a wry, infectious grin. “I- I mean, he’s an asshole but that’s excessive- even for him.” Smiling at him, you shoved it in your pocket. “Thanks.”

Johnny was so charismatic that his personality walked in the room half a second before he did, or in this case, up to the craft services table. He stuffed the last half of a granola bar in his face, finishing his story about his trip to the bar a few nights ago, “So, after I changed my pants, I go back to the bar, and Jeff does it again- pisses down the other leg! At that point, I just kinda gave up.” You raised an eyebrow, eyeing his dickies, “So that’s why you smell like that?” Snickering, he rationalized, “I mean- if I change ‘em again, I figure he’s just gonna do it on set!”

Fanning yourself with your hand, you felt a bead of sweat roll between your shoulder blades as you laughed, the heat of filming in Louisiana all too familiar. Johnny tossed his jacket over his shoulder, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “If it ain’t 90 in the shade..” Your eyes wandered over to him. The sun shone off of his tan, glistening skin like a tall boy can with condensation, his muscles flexing. You never noticed before, but the shirt he was wearing really showed off how defined his arms were. God, you really had to like him to find him hot with another man’s piss on his pants.

About a hundred feet away, Bam leaned against a trailer with a bitter look on his face. “Dude! They’re totally eye-fucking him.” Ryan rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer while he continued ranting, “Like, seriously? Can you be any less obvious?” He looked at you with bile on his tongue, watching. Watching how you giggled when he made a joke, how Johnny smiled when he noticed you staring- god, he was probably saying something like, “y’see somethin’ nice, doll?” That hick asshole. “Dude. You have got to chill out.” Breaking the silence, Ryan almost sounded earnest, “They’re just friends. You are being paranoid.” Bam sputtered, “Dude! Back me up here!” He earned a shrug.

Bam had trouble keeping his clothes on, especially when you were around. This was no different. Discarding his shirt in the grass, his pants sat dangerously low on his pale hips, showing off your favorite tattoo of his as he walked over to you. He stood an inch closer to you than Johnny did, which was already pretty close, feigning coolness. “Hey, what’s up?” There was some underlying anger in the way his torso was held tensed, the way his jaw was clenched hard enough to crack geodes- it unnerved you. You shrank a little, “Nothin.”

Leaning past you, Johnny looked down at him, “What’s got’cha so hot, Bam?” It was a subtle gesture, but powerful. Bam scoffed, “Whaddya’ mean? Its hot as fuckin shit out here.” Johnny put a wide palm on your shoulder as he took a step towards Bam, standing in front of you. “I mean,” His dark, emotionless eyes looked over the silver rims of his glasses as he spoke softly, “What’s gotcha’ so pissy?” Your boyfriend stared up at him, his gaze beady and full of rage.

And in a flash, he was on him. A flurry of white, limp wristed punches and broad fisted thwacks as the two men clashed. Starting on their feet, they ended up on the ground after Johnny got Bam under the arms in a mock wrestling hold. “LA pussy!” “Philly-trash bitch!” It was like a dogfight- gnashing wet teeth, choked out obscenities- you could’ve sworn you saw Bam with raised hackles. You just stared at the action in front of you, jaw on the floor.

And as soon as it started, Jeff swooped in, grabbing Bam by the hair as he straddled Johnny and yanking him to his feet. Blinded by rage, he swung at nobody in particular as he was getting hauled off set, held a good arm’s length away like a rabid animal. You would’ve thought he was one too, with the foamy mixture of spit, blood, and sweat that dripped down his chest and the crazed look in his wide eyes as he stared back at you. The emotion behind them was indiscernible- anger, desperation, desire- just a slurry of hormones.

Glancing down at Johnny, you watched him as he wiped the cut on his lip with his thumb, blinking hard. His hair was tousled, slick with sweat that dripped down his face, making the little cuts where Bam’s tattooed knuckles hit him sting. Sitting up, he gingerly removed his glasses that were shattered against his face. “Holy shit…” You almost shook a little as he stared at you, unphased by it.

His breath was heavy as he got to his feet, looking down at you. Everything was kinda still for a moment before he snickered, “Dude. He totally got a hard on.”

[sitp-recs]

in honor of Dracos birthday, do you have birthday centered recs :)?

Hi there! I definitely have some favorites, I just don’t remember if they’re more Harry-centric or Draco-centric 🤣 I hope you enjoy!

5th June by @shealwaysreads (M, 800 words)

Sometimes, a slice of cake is a declaration.

Hesperides by @lettersbyelise (E, 1.3k)

Draco Malfoy is not the kind of man to lavish gorgeous Greek holidays on his flings. So Harry doesn’t really know what to make of his invitation.

Birthday Boy by RurouniHime (M, 3k)

Thirty years old, and where was he?

Narcissus by cryptonym (E, 4k)

Harry wants to give Draco something really special for his birthday. What could more special than Draco, himself?!

Cake by astolat (M, 4k)

Harry tried not to care when after the war, everyone he knew seemed to have made an agreement to stop paying attention to birthdays.

Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too by @peachpety (E, 4k)

Harry Potter loves his birthday… until he doesn’t. All it takes is a miserable slice of jealousy, sprinkled with an unfortunate slip of the tongue, and doused with a heavy dollop of pining to turn Harry sour. Fortunately for him, Draco Malfoy is there to sweeten the day.

The Best Laid Plans by playout (M, 6k)

Since when has anything in Harry's life gone according to plan? His birthday is no exception.

Divination For Dickheads (orphaned, G, 7k)

It doesn't actually turn out to be the worst birthday present he's ever been given.

(Un)Calculated Risk by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 7k)

He thought about the way Harry looked at him, smiled at him; about the way Draco’s head was nearly always full of him, all day every day, and about the way Draco sometimes deliberately went to bed still smelling of him, refusing to acknowledge what it meant – because he already fucking knew what it meant. What all of it meant. And then Draco decided, fuck it, he was going to risk it. They were going to risk it together, Harry and Draco.

Kill, Fuck, Marry by @lettersbyelise (E, 12k)

Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 13k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

A Holiday in Provence by dracoismytrashson (E, 32k)

Harry Potter is turning 50 years old and feeling lonelier than ever. Divorced, retired, and learning he’s not quite as straight as he thought he was, Harry reluctantly accepts a birthday gift from his friends for a week’s stay at an idyllic French vineyard. Too bad Hermione and Ron neglected to mention that the owner of the winery happens to be a certain quick-witted blond Slytherin…

[tagthescullion]

Ancestors

Fandom(s): Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Bianca and Nico's sixth sense starts showing, Maria's not amused

AO3 link

Mimmo - Bassi's Recipe

Chapter Three: Salvatore's Grandchildren

The Secondo Capo Regia Marina Agostino Bernardi hated wakes and funerals. Nothing could make him more uncomfortable than sitting down with the family of a recently deceased person weeping for somebody they had seen twice a year at best.

Old spinsters, rich great uncles, cousins many times removed… all of them laid peacefully to rest by a herd of unwillingly involved relatives.

Agostino generally avoided these events like the plague, but unfortunately for him this time there was no way out. 

A close friend of his had just lost his mother-in-law. Agostino could have thrown some excuse, apologised profusely, and spent his afternoon fishing with his colleagues. The truth was, however, that the Marchese Salvatore di Angelo had been there for every single one of Agostino’s family’s wakes and refusing would seem terribly unkind on his behalf. 

There was another reason Agostino didn’t quite enjoy the prospect, and it was Salvatore’s —frankly bizarre— family. 

For a person of Salvatore’s position, rumours were unavoidable. If it wasn’t his short engagement, it had been his wife’s troubles giving him sons, or his suffragist oldest daughter being seen at a protest, or his reluctance to follow the current government as it was expected of him. 

But nothing, nothing, Salvatore had ever done, had made his family the spotlight of society’s villainous rumours such as his youngest daughter’s elopement and subsequent birth to not one but two children with the mysterious husband nobody seemed to know.

Whether the girl had actually married her paramour was dubious at best. Some even said the man had already been married abroad. The children used their mother’s surnames under the excuse that Salvatore wouldn’t have his grandson and heir be called an unknown, foreign name. 

Whatever the case, Agostino paid no heed to such nonsense. If his friend said his daughter was married, then so be it. If his friend wanted his grandchildren to carry his family name, he saw no problem with that at all. 

No. What really bothered the Secondo Capo wasn’t the children’s names or background but the children themselves. 

He had seen them on several occasions. At first glance, they were perfectly normal children, brought up in a perfectly normal environment, following perfectly normal rules imposed by their perfectly normal mother and grandparents. 

But first impressions seldom told the truth. 

Those children were strange. 

Throughout the years, Agostino had experienced strange occurrences around those kids: shadows followed them, they spoke to thin air, they would stare at the most mundane creatures with fear. Hell, Agostino was sure he’d heard them muttering in a language that had sounded like outdated Greek.

It made him shudder to think about it.

Despite his misgivings, Agostino had promised his friend he’d attend the wake, and the Bernardi family always kept their word.

It was a cloudy morning in Cessalto, but the grey overcast sky didn’t look like it would bring rain. 

A humid summer had made way to a cold spring in the North and by the time he made it to Salvatore’s home, Agostino’s hands were stiff with cold.

Luckily, his friend had spared no expense in heating. The inside of the 17th century home was warm enough to make Agostino regret the extra undershirt he’d decided to wear. 

Quite a few people were wandering around already; greeting acquaintances and, most likely, gossiping about whatever poor unfortunate soul had given them anything to criticise. 

Agostino spotted Salvatore by the window, speaking softly to his wife, Beatrice. When he saw Agostino watching, he waved feebly. 

Getting closer to them, Agostino said: “I’m terribly sorry about your loss.”

He was speaking to both of them, but his attention was on the marchesa, who was, after all, the one whose mother had passed.

She smiled insincerely and thanked him for being there. Agostino couldn’t fault her indifference to his sentiment. At his mother’s funeral, he’d been inconsolable, he wouldn’t have cared if the king himself had spoken to him. 

“Mia cara,” said Salvatore, putting a hand on his wife’s arm. “The Sartoris are here.”

Beatrice gave Agostino another weak smile, and left to greet the newcomers. 

“It’s a difficult time,” Salvatore explained. “Her brother and her were terribly fond of their mother… and it was rather sudden, too.”

Agostino wasn’t all that sure. He’d heard the woman was ill. But, he supposed, illnesses could hit faster than expected. 

“Of course,” he said anyway. “How are your girls handling it?”

Salvatore shrugged. “Hardly girls anymore… Eleonora will arrive this afternoon. Her flight from Berlin was delayed because of the weather. And Maria—”

“Nonno!”

A small person dodged past Agostino, and slammed into Salvatore with the force of a bullet.

“Niccolino!” His friend gave his grandson a tight hug. “There you are!”

Agostino forced his face to remain casual. The little devils had arrived then.

He heard Maria’s voice calling for her son. She appeared to his right, holding the hand of her daughter, who looked to be around 7 or 8.

“Topolino, ti ho detto che no—!” She stopped when she saw Agostino. “Secondo Capo Bernardi, how kind of you to be here.”

Maria di Angelo looked a lot like her father. Her dark hair was spotlessly coiffed, she had the same deep brown eyes, and there was a certain air of authority she shared with Salvatore. 

Today she looked upset, though. Red rimmed her eyes and she seemed exhausted. 

Agostino nodded at the young woman. 

Salvatore must’ve seen something in her expression that Agostino ignored because he held his daughter’s arm softly and told his friend: “Will you excuse us a moment, Agostino?”

Agostino stepped back to give them some privacy. He looked around to find somebody he could entertain himself with.

To his chagrin, in front of him stood the two little children. 

Niccolò and Bianca di Angelo were studying him curiously. 

“Who are you?” Asked the boy. 

“Didn’t you hear, silly? He’s a Secondo Capo.” The girl rolled her eyes. 

Agostino could see that meant absolutely nothing to the boy, who kept staring unabashedly at him. 

“I’m in the navy,” Agostino explained. “I work on a ship.”

Niccolò grinned. “Like a pirate?”

Agostino frowned. “Not at all! Pirates are lawless.”

“The navy kills pirates, Nico,” Bianca scoffed. Turning to Agostino she added: “He’s always wanted to be a pirate, which is dumb because ships make him dizzy.”

“That’s rather unfortunate.” Agostino said as the boy vehemently denied such accusations. 

He was mildly disturbed by the strength of the girl’s gaze. Her eyes were darker than her brother’s, and had an ethereal air to them. But she was only a child, so Agostino held her stare until she looked away.

He wasn’t sure what else to say when their conversation faded into silence, so he repeated: “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

The girl shrugged. “We didn’t know mamma’s nonna very well.”

“But mamma’s so upset!” Niccolò told her sister with wide eyes. “Her nonna must’ve been very nice before she met us.”

“She didn’t want to meet us.” Said Bianca. Agostino noticed a trace of resentment in the girl’s voice. “She only did when our nonna insisted.”

Niccolò threw a glance behind Agostino. The Secondo Capo didn’t want to pry, but he dared a glimpse too.

Salvatore had Maria in a tight hug. Her face was hidden in her father’s shoulder, Agostino didn’t keep his gaze on them long enough to make out whether she was crying or not but her distress was obvious.

“Why don’t you go with your mother?” Agostino suggested. “Tell her you’re sorry and whatnot.”

“She doesn’t like us to see her cry,” said Bianca. “She thinks we’ll think less of her if we do.”

Agostino prayed he could disappear. How on Earth did one speak with children? His own hadn’t been this demanding, had they? Admittedly, he hadn’t been around too much when they were young.

“It sounds silly, really.” Niccolò sighed. “But Bianca’s right.”

“Hmm—” Agostino bit the inside of his cheek. He scanned the room desperately. There, by the door, stood a friend from school. “Oh, look! I see an old acquaintance. If you don’t mind, children…?”

But they had run off. He gave the room a once-over but he couldn’t see where they’d gone. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The wake took its time. Salvatore was an influential man, and many people wanted to look good in front of him, making the place much fuller than Agostino had expected. 

Food was served, a priest read a passage the dead woman had apparently been fond of, and everyone took turns to get close to the open casket in the parlour to pay respects. 

Agostino was spooked by corpses so he opted for a less personal approach. He sent his prayers from the safety of the sitting room, and apologised to the dead woman for not breathing too close to her departed earthly body. 

The crowd dimmed as the morning turned into afternoon, with only family and close friends remaining by the time the clock struck two.

Agostino sat with Salvatore, his wife, and Beatrice’s brother —il Conte Carminati—, chatting about whether Chamberlain would declare war on Germany or not.

“He’s strongly against it,” said Beatrice. “My sister-in-law says the Brits are rather divided on the matter. They don’t want another war—” Agostino remembered the marchesa and the conte’s older brother had died in the Great War, fighting in the British Army for he had married an English woman. “But at the same time, they can’t help but feel Czechoslovakia's situation is unfair.”

“But another war so soon…” Conte Carminati shuddered. “Great nations such as Great Britain or Germany wouldn’t go to war over a country as insignificant as Czechoslovakia.”

“They would if they wanted a war,” Salvatore commented. “Why do you think Germany’s been building an army for? Protection? Only a fool would believe Hitler’s objectives are peaceful.”

Agostino felt the tension Salvatore’s words caused. Adolf Hitler was on good terms with the Duce. If Germany went to war, Italy would follow soon after, no doubt.

Agostino raised his glance just in time to catch Maria and her two children walking to the parlour. Through the glass doors he saw Maria wipe a tear off her face.

The two kids shared a look. 

The Secondo Capo returned to the conversation. He told the group about the intranquility in the Regia Marina. Everybody was half-expecting a war by this point, as Salvatore had explained. 

As Beatrice’s brother spoke of the Regia Aeronautica and their own restlessness, Agostino saw Maria exit the parlour, minus her two blessings.

He looked through the glass, studying the children talking between themselves, heads together.

Niccolò shook his head, clearly worried. Bianca made an exasperated gesture. Whatever she was saying, it looked as if she was trying to convince her brother of something.

The boy gave what must’ve been a loud sigh, muted by the glass doors, and nodded. 

Bianca put her hands on the edge of the casket and leaned onto it. Agostino hoped she didn’t put too much pressure onto one side. He wasn’t sure how strong children were, but if the casket tumbled and the corpse fell out he might scream.

What happened was much, much worse. 

For a minute Agostino was distracted by the conversation again. There were talks about a meeting in Munich between the European leaders. Or some of them, at the very least. Salvatore was saying, his tone a tad too loud to be casual, that not inviting representatives of all the countries involved was as bad as straight-up declaring war.

Agostino’s eyes froze as he stared into the parlour.

One of the children was sitting in the casket. Not on, in.

Except… except it was too tall to be one of the kids.

“...absolute madness!” Salvatore exclaimed.

“It is…” Agostino whispered.

Salvatore must’ve thought he was being sarcastic. With a frown he said “It’s not a joke, you know? The Great War was supposed to solve all this petty nonsense—”

But he’d seen Agostino’s face: pale, eyes wide and unmoving, staring at…

“Ma che caz—?” 

Salvatore had turned towards the parlour. 

There, walking hand in hand with Salvatore’s granddaughter was his departed mother-in-law.

The old woman’s eyes were open, glassy, and unfocused. Her skin had a blue tint, dark spots marked her bare arms below the edge of her dress. 

Beatrice screamed. 

Il Conte Carminati fainted, slipping from the couch and falling to the floor.

The dead woman kept approaching.

Bianca sat the corpse… was it a corpse? Oddio, Agostino thought his heart couldn’t beat any louder. 

Bianca sat her great-grandmother on an armchair. “Where’s mamma?”

When none of the adults replied, Niccolò said: “I told you they would be scared.”

“What’s happening?” Asked Beatrice weakly. “What have you done to my mother?!”

“Mamma was so sad,” Bianca replied. “I thought she might be happier if she could speak with her nonna again. Come on, Nico, go fetch mamma, will you?”

Niccolò sighed. “It’s your idea, you go fetch her.”

Agostino didn’t care who found Maria, he just wanted to leave this madhouse, but he was frozen to the spot by fear. 

As the girl left, muttering under her breath about how lazy her brother was, Agostino looked around.

Beatrice looked like she might follow her brother’s example and pass out at any moment.

The conte was still out. 

Salvatore looked shocked, but to Agostino’s chagrin, he didn’t appear quite as surprised as he should be.

“Why—? How did you do this?” Salvatore asked his grandson. 

“It was Bianca!” Niccolò said, pointing at the door his sister had left through. “She can do this with cats and dogs too!”

He was obviously taken with his sister’s unholy powers. He looked very proud.

Salvatore studied his companions. Agostino wondered if this was some sort of tasteless elaborate joke. 

Niccolò turned to the corpse. “I’m wearing that tie you gave me for my birthday, did you notice? Mamma said it would be nice even if you don’t like us. I think it’s too tight around my neck…”

“Oh, good God!”

Maria di Angelo had arrived.

Niccolò startled. “Mamma, guarda! Bianca made your grandmother wake up!”

Maria looked horrified, but not at all astonished. 

“You don’t have to be sad anymore!” Bianca added, appearing on her mother’s side. 

Maria’s eyes went to her father, then to the rest of them. Then returned to her children.

“Put her back!”

Bianca huffed. “No! She just woke up, she doesn’t want to go back into the box!”

“It’s a casket,” Maria corrected Bianca. “And she belongs there, topolina. She’s dead!”

Bianca’s head dropped. “Mi dispiace, mamma. I thought it would make you happy to have her back again.”

Maria sighed. She held Bianca’s face in her hands softly. 

“Topolina, I appreciate the gesture,” she said. “I really do. But you mustn’t disturb the nature of death. Mia nonna she… she passed away. That’s sad, but it’s okay. She’s at peace now, but if you—” her eyes went to the dead woman sitting on her father’s armchair. “If you awaken her, she won’t be at peace anymore. She’ll be sad because she doesn’t belong with the living.”

Bianca nodded.

Agostino thought that all sounded rational and well-put, but there was still a bloody corpse amidst them. An actual moving dead body. He controlled his breath so it wouldn’t sound too shallow.

The little boy seemed to think around those lines too, for he said: “So… what do we do now?”

Maria turned towards him, then towards Bianca. “You can… make her go to sleep again, can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged.

Agostino felt lightheaded. 

“Merda,” Salvatore muttered.

His wife made an offended expression. “There’s no need to be inappropriate, Totò!”

He stared at her. “There’s a resuscitated person in our sitting room, mia cara. How exactly am I supposed to react?”

She raised her shoulders dismissively. “Without foul language.”

Agostino leaned back heavily on his couch. He wanted to close his eyes and take a deep breath, but he refused to lose sight of the dead woman.

Salvatore had a point. How were they supposed to react?

Agostino thought hyperventilating was appropriate, but it required him to force oxygen into his lungs, a task proving rather difficult. 

“If Jesus could come back, why can’t mamma’s nonna?” Niccolò inquired.

“My mother isn’t God’s child, Nico,” said his grandmother. 

“Of course not,” Maria rolled her eyes. “Jesus was a lot less judgemental.” 

Agostino felt a chill go down his back.

Maria looked behind him, and for a fraction of a second, Agostino feared there were more reanimated dead relatives in the room, but luckily, she seemed relieved.

“Thank God,” she sighed.

“Not quite.”

Agostino turned sharply towards the new voice.

There was another man with them, but he seemed perfectly alive. Tall, pale, well-dressed in a suit so black it seemed to absorb the light of the room.

Agostino wasn’t easily cowed. He spent most of his time with powerful people. His job demanded he interacted regularly with men who could make him and his whole family disappear if he said the wrong thing, or was heard by the wrong person. 

All the same, this man gave him goosebumps. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the sudden drop in temperature, or the man’s general poise and appearance, but whoever he was, it was clear he wasn’t somebody to mess around with.

“You know what I meant,” Maria said. “A little help would be appreciated. This is your fault.”

The man appeared perplexed. “My fault?”

Maria didn’t look impressed. She didn’t look afraid, or even worried. Behind her exasperated expression, which still held a trace of the unease she’d felt, there was a note of fondness.

Agostino appraised the man properly.

His dark eyes were intense. An intensity Agostino had noticed on the youngest di Angelo girl mere hours ago.

Was this…? Was this the children’s father?

For a second, curiosity clouded his self-preservation and fear. His wife would be so ridiculously jealous that he had met Maria di Angelo’s former husband —or former lover, whoever he was—.

Salvatore’s stance confirmed his suspicions. 

His old friend was rigid. His arms tightly crossed over his chest, and a cold, impassive façade on his face —not an easy feat, with your dead mother-in-law sitting quietly in your sitting room—.

“Somehow,” said Salvatore. “I don’t doubt it is.”

His wife put a hand on his arm. She threw Salvatore a warning look, and turning towards the man, she asked: “Can you fix this? Please?”

The man tilted his head and looked at the children. Niccolò was beaming at the sight of his father, oblivious to the tense atmosphere of the room. Bianca looked sheepish.

“Mi dispiace, papà,” she muttered.

The man sighed. He walked towards the children and knelt by their side, undisturbed by the corpse less than a metre away.

“I know,” the man told her in a soft voice. He brushed her cheek with his hand. “But you mustn’t do this again. There’s an order to life and death, and we must never distort it to our advantage.”

The girl nodded. “I was only trying to…” Her voice faded before she finished her sentence.

“I know,” her father repeated. “I’m not angry.” He took both her hands in his. “Your motives were noble, but sometimes we must accept fate, regardless of how frustrating or upsetting we think it is.”

Bianca nodded again. Her expression was as sombre, and her eyes as fierce as her father’s.

The conte groaned on the floor.

The man got up, looked at the marchesa’s brother and at Agostino, then at the corpse of Salvatore’s mother-in-law, then shook his head.

“I think you’ve seen enough,” he said without malice. 

He snapped his fingers, and Agostino’s world went black.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Did you have to do that?” Maria asked her children’s father. “They’ll never believe they were poisoned by a gas leak in the radiator.

Hades leaned against the back of the sofa behind him. “Better than them believing the children are possessed by the devil, I should imagine.”

Maria huffed. 

She watched Nico and Bianca, playing with a set of dominoes on her parents’ sitting room carpet. 

They were so innocent. They were kind, and well-intended, but they were too young to understand so many things yet.

“Will it get worse?” She wondered. “Their… death thing?”

Hades gave her an honest look. “Yeah, it will. The older they get, though, the easier it’ll be to help them control that power.”

“So no more raising the dead at family gatherings?” 

He smiled. “No, I’ll make sure to pay attention the next time you host another relative’s wake or funeral.”

“Thank you,” she said. She crossed her arms. “My grandmother always thought they were somehow unholy, now she’ll haunt them forever.”

“Your grandmother was a piece of work,” Hades argued. “The possibility of her haunting all of you was always on the table, what’s another pebble to a mountain?”

Maria stared at him. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course I am,” he waved a hand dismissively. 

“You didn’t tell me when my grandfather told Nico stories,” Maria reminded him. “Or when that aunt of mine was criticising my baking in the kitchen. I’d like a little heads-up the next time there’s wild spirits in my home.”

Hades shrugged. “What’s the fun in that? Let the children discover what they can do by themselves.”

“What if it’s dangerous?” She insisted. “What if they find a spirit, or ghost, or whatever that wants to hurt them?”

Hades took her hands in his. “Whatever they face that falls under the category of ‘afterlife’ is part of my domain. If they cannot handle it by themselves, I’ll always be there to help them.”

[crowehorte]

Daily Grimoire Challenge Day 1

From the @2024-grimoire-challenge Week 1 Prompt List

Spell: A set of written instructions that outline the material, verbal, and somatic components of a magic working with a specific intended outcome.

Ritual: The process of casting a spell.

Lavender A genus of 47 plants from the mint family. Native to the "Old World," lavender is found across Europe, north and eastern Africa, and southwest Asia all the way into India. It is also know as Spikenard or simply Nard, with the origins either stemming from the ancient Greek city of Naarda or the sanskrit word Nalada. The late Latin name used commonly in modern times comes from Lavandarius, which refers to lavanda (things to be washed) and the verb lavo (to wash).

Lavender grows best in sandy or gravelly soil and requires a full 6 to 8 hours of direct sunlight. Too much humidity or water in the soil can cause fungi to grow and roots to rot, which is why well-draining soil is required for it to grow well. English lavender has a germination period of 14 to 28 days and reaches full maturity after 100 to 110 days.

It's frequently used in essential oils and potpourri mixes for its fresh, sweet scent with faint citrusy notes, and it's often paired with Chamomile in aroma therapy blends dedicated to relaxing and soothing the mind. As a spice, it's often added to desserts or paired with mild sheep or goat milk cheeses. Lavender buds can be steeped in sugar and boiled to create a syrup that can be added to coffee, tea, and baked goods, and it pairs well with chocolate flavoring.

Lavender has been used as an ingredient in incense and perfumes throughout the centuries, and has been referenced in the Christian bible. It's commonly associated with St Joseph of the Catholic faith; the patron saint of fathers, families, expecting mothers, unborn children, virgins, and workers. He is invoked in prayers regarding employment and vocation, happy marriages, grace in death, and daily protection.

In my experience, lavender is frequently used as a spell component used in purification, protection, and general blessing spells. Given the association with St Joseph, the frequency it appears in lotions and soaps, and how it's used to aid in sleep and relaxation, I think that its mundane uses heavily inform its magical use. We associate it with cleanliness and good vibes, and fathers are often our first protectors, so it makes sense to use it in this way.

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

What about children?

It was the 1st day of Percy and Annabeth’s honeymoon. They were spending the first three days of their month away in Athens, and from there a yacht was waiting for them at Piraeus port. The day before they had caught the sun setting from Lykabetus mountain and after that they had dinner and spent the rest of their evening locked in their hotel room.

They woke up in each other’s arms. Outside was hot and humid but thankfully their room was fully airconditioned. They hadn’t spent much time together in the past few months between Annabeth’s studies and Percy’s training, so it felt amazing staying together for a whole month without any distractions. As Annabeth turned to her side to face Percy he was already awake looking at the view from their room. “Good morning.” She whispered as she laid her head on his chest.

“How did you sleep?” He asked her in return as he played with one of her curls.

“Very well. I think we should move here. I’ve never slept this well in my life.”

“I think it has to do more with me exhausting you before bed, than Athens itself.”

“That might be it.”

“I have something for you.” Percy said as he reached to his bedside table. He had on it a jewellery box that Annabeth hadn’t noticed until that point. With one hand, he managed to open the box to reveal its content to Annabeth. “Percy, they’re gorgeous.” She sat up so she could take a better look to the pearl earrings and necklace in front of her. “Thank you so much.” She said and kissed him.

“They used to belong to Andromeda. Perseus had given them to her. It’s our good luck juju.” He replied.

“Where did you find them?”

“My dad gave them to me.”

“Oh.” Annabeth said like she snapped back to their reality. “He came to the wedding?”

“Just for five minutes.” Percy tried to soothe her. He was sure what was happening in Annabeth’s mind. How she felt about her mum not showing up to the wedding. Even though they had adopted a no-God policy, Annabeth wanted Athena to show up for her. “He just gave me the jewellery and then left.”

“Why didn’t my mum show up?” Annabeth asked him and regretted those words the moment they came out of her mouth. “I shouldn’t be asking you this.”

“Annabeth-“

“I’m asking for too much at the moment. Without her, I wouldn’t even be alive right now.”

Percy had his opinions about his wife’s mother, but he wasn’t going to voice any of them as he would probably be cursed for the rest of his life. “You aren’t asking for too much. It’s normal that you wanted your mother to show up to your wedding. I get it. It’s reasonable, but I guess the voice of reason hasn’t found its way with the Greek Pantheon yet. And you Annabeth Chase would be alive with or without your mother’s help. You’re the most intelligent person I know, so it shouldn’t be even crossing your mind that you wouldn’t have found your way out of the darkness.”

Especially when your mother was the reason you fell into Tartarus on the first place.

Annabeth stared lovingly at her husband’s side. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I got the best out of our deal.” Percy smirked. “How about I order us some breakfast and then go and try the private pool with the amazing view?” He suggested.

“You want to do laps?”

“Not exactly what I have in mind to do.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but smile as she realised her husband’s intentions. “Would you rather do your wife? With the expensive Parthenon view that my dad paid for?”

“Yeap.” Percy said popping the p as he got out of bed to order their breakfast.

“You’re hopeless.”

“I know, love.” He raised his hand so she could see it, “But you married me, so you are stuck with me.”

Annabeth shouldn’t have let Percy order as he had brought into their room the entire menu. They were sitting in their balcony Percy just in his boxers while she was wearing a satin robe that was a part of her bridal lingerie. “My dad is getting divorced.” She announced.

“Did Bobby and Matthew tell you?” He asked her.

“What? No, my dad told me before the wedding. The boys don’t know anything.”

“Believe me, they know. After you went upstairs after the rehearsal dinner they told me everything. It was the reason Helen was acting all weird. I would have told you sooner, but they begged me not to. So, it’s definitive?”

“That’s what I gathered. He doesn’t trust her anymore. After fully comprehending what me running away really meant. He’s planning on moving back to the East Coast.”

“Good for him. We’ll probably see him more around.” Percy added.

“I think that was one of his reasons. You know, we are getting older, and he probably wants to be around when we have kids.” Annabeth said as she ate a bit of her bacon.

“Do you want children? I mean we have talked about it before, but we haven’t sat down and had a serious discussion about it.”

“You mean now? Or in the future?” She asked.

Annabeth didn’t know how she felt about the whole having children situation. She didn’t hate children, but she never saw herself as a mother. Maybe the fact that she grew up without hers might have played its part. She also was sure she would be too cynical to make a good mother or to make a connection with her baby. And her biggest fear was for her children to hate her. But maybe it was just the fact that she never pictured children in her ideal life. Usually, it was just herself, Percy, a lot of travelling and architecture. Although, having a mini Percy didn’t sound like a bad idea to her.

“I don’t know. I guess whatever you want. You are going to sacrifice a lot more than me. It’s more your decision than mine.” Percy replied. Annabeth was grateful that Percy was calm about the subject. She knew that he wanted children and to have a very loud family with Annabeth.

“I haven’t thought much about having children. My career just started. I mean we’re straight out of college.” She chuckled. “And I am not sure the timing is right for me at the moment.”

“I’m totally on your side.” Percy said.

“Really?”

“Of course. You’re still in college and if I make the team, I will be away to train for the next year at least. And if I do as well as I did last time, there will be a lot of travelling which will leave you alone with a baby. And that’s not the way I want to have a family with you.”

“Percy, it’s most likely that for the next 10 years you will be travelling and training day and night. I didn’t mean to wait that long. Maybe for another two or three years. We are still young, and we have our whole life ahead of us. There is no point to rush.” She replied. “It’s a huge responsibility to bring another human being to this planet. I had an awful childhood. I wouldn’t wish that way of growing up to anyone.” She got a little sidetracked as Percy intertwined his fingers with hers, “I also have my PhD going on. I am finishing next year so maybe in a couple years I will be ready.”

“I completely understand, and I agree. You are a better thinker than me. I just know that all I have to do is trust you.” Percy smiled. “I also know that settling down and having children isn’t your ideal life. And I am cool with it. I have always known it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want children.”

“I know. But you wouldn’t mind it if we never had any and just spent the rest of my lives on our own. But you are the one who will have to carry the baby, take the maternity leave and sacrifice energy that even if I never let you to even lift a finger, you’ll still be exhausted. I can’t just force you to drop everything you have going on and have kids.”

Annabeth was touched, by the way Percy was talking to her. Well, she knew that the two of them never had any communication issues, but it was nice that even on the subject of children, they were still on the same page. “We are going to have children. But I need time to wrap my thoughts around it. We are going to be awesome parents. But the timing needs to be good. You’re right about children not always being in my life plans, but we are a team. And there is no doubt that I’ll love them more than life itself when they are born. It won’t be a burden for me. Neither the pregnancy nor the after part. I will do it because I want to do it, not because you want to. Believe me, watching you become a father is on top of my to-do list. Just not at 22.” Annabeth smiled.

Percy put her on his lap. “Our kids will be so lucky to have you as their mother.”

[hyuntaena]

What Rules? || c.bg NSFW

Hi alllllll!!! my first ever fic, but its smut lmao. I hope you all enjoy, because I had a blast writing :))

Pairing; Choi Beomgyu x fem!reader

genre; smut

summary; you are a part of a group that does dance covers. it’s all fun and games- until one of your members gets access to a dance room at HYBE for one day.

tw; beomgyu has a tongue piercing, overstimulation

wc; 2.9k+

-

You step into the humidity filled room, a smile gracing your face. You just so happen to have gotten to the dance room early, seeing that two others had joined the early grouping. Stepping in, you set your bag down and begin to warm up.

“Hey y/n!” exclaims one of the members, Taemin. He was your best friend, ever since you both were very little. He had such pretty hair- a smooth silky black. His eyes, however, seemed to be filled with fire, which caused a little bit of concern.

“Hey, what’s up?” you yell back, since the music just seemed to get louder and louder the longer you stretched. You quickly finish up, jogging over to where Taemin resided. he quickly pulls out his laptop, and gleams when the rest of your group comes into the room.

There are five of you in total so far, in hopes of adding more in the near future. The group name was Sevmin, and it consists of all sorts of people; a few recently moved from the states or even from Malaysia.

“Look what I made up! it’s the choreo for New Rules!” he says with a grin, placing down said laptop and connecting it to the speakers for everyone to watch. He presses play, and you hear the familiar tune starting up. You watch intently, seeing what he decided to come up with in only three short days.

After the music ended, he closed his laptop with a slam. The sweat making his hair stick to his forehead was only a slight distraction as he began talking about how he decided certain moves, how they lined up with some parts of the real dance, and so on and so forth.

“But! That’s not all. I have some big news to share with you all!” He places his hands on his hips triumphantly, chest puffing out as if he was a Greek warrior that had defeated his last enemy. He once again rummages into his bag, and pulls out seven badges. He glances at you, and begins to speak once more.

“I have access to a really really big dance room. One you won’t believe until we actually get there.” he explains slowly, handing out the badges individually as he talks. When he gets to you, he flashes a big grin, and hands you the thick, laminated paper. You hold your breath as you read.

On the badge, said the words “HYBE/BigHit”.

Everyone begins yelling, but all you could do is stare, jaw dropped. How on earth did he get this? What strings did he have to pull? Many questions piled into your head as the noise around you seemed to drown out. Did he get these… illegally? Worry runs through your veins, and before you could even think, your mouth begins to open.

“How did you get these? Did you steal them off someone?” You blurt out, causing the rest of the members to go silent. They slowly look towards your best friend, and he gives a confused look, as if you had just spoken to him in an alien language.

“It’s actually pretty exciting. I got these because I went to a dance showcase, and they ended up finding me afterwards.” Taemin said with a rather large smirk. These words made your jaw drop once again. How on earth did they find him? This sounds too good to be true. Your mind is in major doubt, but your body says otherwise. You feel your body begin to go numb, and you let out the biggest laugh.

“There’s absolutely no way these are legit.” You say breathily, laughter dying down as quickly as it started. Taemin just shakes his head with a sigh. He puts his laptop away, and plugs his phone back into the speaker, allowing the music to blast through your ears once again.

“They’re legit, just you wait and see, y/n.” He yells over the music, giving the rest of the members a nod to the clock. 8:56. This meant practice was about to begin. You take your place on the floor, and soon enough the next song begins to play. You begin to move.

-

Sweat rolls down your forehead as the song you’ve heard at least a million times comes to an end once again. You just can’t seem to focus today, especially after what your best friend had pulled. What if they were legit? What would we do then? You begin to get lost in your thoughts, until you hear the beat of a new song begin to play.

“Come on y/n! One last one for fun and then we’re done for the day!” One of your members shouts, waking you from your thoughts immediately. You get into formation with the rest of your friends, and thus begin to dance one last time.

When the music ends, you immediately lay onto the floor as if you were a starfish, the cool yet warm floorboards below you provide some sort of comfort. You fill your lungs with as much air as you can, trying to catch your breath. However, you couldn’t just lay there all day. You sit up, and look towards Taemin, who was immediately packing his belongings up, excited to pass by the HYBE building to show you things were legit.

-

You both arrive at the building, excitement running through your veins. Badge in hand, you and Taemin walk towards the building, eager to test the badges out. Instead of doing the face scan, you both scan the badges, your heart thumping out of your chest as you do so.

Ding!

The door seems to click, signaling that you were allowed to walk in. Your jaw drops. There’s no way this is actually happening. You look down at the badge, staring at your name at the bottom. This is legit, your mind reminds you. You turn to Taemin, eyes wide. He can only return a smirk, before turning back to the scanner, locking the door. He does a 180, beginning to walk back to his apartment, and you do the same. 

You both split paths, and you shortly arrive at your apartment, going up the old stairs. You walk into your apartment, placing the badge on your side table. Quickly, you change into comfy clothes, and immediately lay down. This is legit, tomorrow we’re going to be in the place I dreamed of being in. You ponder about it for quite some time, before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

The next day, you wake with a start. You jump out of bed, and quickly get changed. Today’s the day you get to try out a new dance room. Also known as the one of your dreams. You eat breakfast, as dancing on an empty stomach is never a good idea. You quickly finish, and get your shoes on, before taking a picture of your outfit, sending it in the groupchat. Grabbing the badge and heading out, you are excited to start the day.

You arrive at the building shortly after, and you pull out your badge, the lamination glistening in the sunlight. It’s time, you think, and scan the badge, allowing yourself access. The door opens with a click, and you couldn’t help but grin widely, not even noticing the footsteps behind you.

“Y/n! You’re here early too huh?” Daena, another one of your members, exclaims. You turn to her quickly, flashing a smile, and nodding your head. You both look at the door, before slowly stepping in. The sight simply makes your jaw drop. You’ve never seen the inside of the building before, of course. You both take in the sights, while trying to find the room you were assigned to. Of course this took a while, as there were many hallways, but you had eventually found the dance room. You step in, and you are greeted by a familiar face; Taemin.

“Hey, Y/n! Daena!” He greets you with a cheeky grin, and you both set your bags down, before tackling him into a big hug. He stumbles over for a split second, but regains his balance. You both look up to him, sweet smiles gracing your faces, before letting him go. You had to pay him back somehow in the future, no doubt. 

The moment was short lived however, as the door swings open and the other two members waltz in, also seemingly excited to start their day. You immediately begin to try and connect to the speakers, either with your phone or laptop. After a few seconds, you hear the loud beat of “New Rules” beginning to play. You all begin to warm up, before dancing.

However, in the midst of you warming up, the door slams open. Everyone looks over in confusion, eyes widening at who had opened the door. It was a manager, and he looked furious.

“Who are you? Show me your badges, or I'm kicking you out!” He hollers, before continuing, saying; “How did you even get in here?” He stares at you all, and you begin scrambling in a panic for your badge in your bag. All of you quickly show him your badges, and his look of fury quickly turned into a sour look.

“My apologies. Don’t let anyone else into this dance room, you hear?” He scoffs, before turning around and walking out. Before the door closes, however, you see a hand grab onto it, making you fully turn to look at the door once again.

This time, your jaw REALLY dropped.

You could only stare in awe, as a very very familiar face peeks in. Everyone looks at the door when you lightly gasp, but the door slams shut before anyone saw who it was.

It was THE Choi Beomgyu. It felt like your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you knew that it really happened. You feel your heart stop, and you can't seem to really focus on the next song that was playing until Daena shakes you.

“Y/n! Focus! What did you see?” She pouts, and you shake your head. No one would even believe you, even if you had a picture to prove it. Daena simply sighs, before turning back to the mirror. All of you begin the next song, which is “CROWN”, the song immediately filling you with uncontrollable amounts of serotonin.

However, during the middle of the song, you and a couple others notice the door slowly opening once again. You don’t pay too much attention, as Taemin had set up his camera to film you all dancing to the songs. But what you do notice is the long, jet black hair sitting in the corner, watching you dance. You could feel their eyes burning into the side of your head, and before you know it, the song is over.

“Nice job you guys, you really did amazing.” A slightly unfamiliar voice draws out from the corner, making all of you quickly turn to the sound.

There he was, once again.

Your voice catches in your throat while the others beam smiles, as well as saying a very loud ‘thank you’. He smiles back at everyone, but only seems to stare at you, with these burning eyes. “Do you mind if I stay and watch? I’d love to see what our fans do.” He chuckles while sticking his tongue out to you guys, giving you a glimpse of his tongue piercing.

“You can definitely stay!” Taemin exclaims, smirk slowly widening as he looks over towards your frozen form. You quickly shake out of it however, head snapping at Taemin before nodding slowly. Shortly after, the next song plays, and the next, and the next, until it is beginning to become dark out. 

Some are clearly exhausted, and thus you put on a slow melody to relax. Daena and Taemin jokingly link hands, slow dancing while howling out of laughter. You couldn’t help but chuckle as well, as you could easily tell the two grew up together. You feel the presence quickly sitting next to you, and you quickly turn to your side to see who it is. The wolf cut greets you warmly, and you give Beomgyu a soft smile. 

“You did great today. I can’t see anyone in this group take on the role of ‘Beomgyu’ as well as you do.” He says warmly, and you couldn’t help but giggle, and give him a small ‘thanks’. Before you know it, you both are chatting it up, and slowly the other members seem to disappear, soon leaving you and Beomgyu alone in the room. By now, it is fully dark out, and you glance at the time. 8:14, it reads. You still have quite a bit of time, and thus you turn to look at Beomgyu once again. 

However, when you turn towards him, he seems a lot closer than you believed. His hot breath seems to brush against your forehead, and he glances down at you, lips parted slightly. You could immediately feel the tension rise within the room, as you glance down at his lips.

Before you can even think, Beomgyu slowly presses his lips against yours. You immediately kiss back, both moving extremely slow. It seems like it lasted a lifetime, but it ends as quickly as it started. He pulls away, and glances down, you both sitting in the silence of the room. However, he quickly goes back in to kiss you, this time seemingly hungrier than the first. You place your hands on his cheeks, turning your head to deepen the kiss.

When he softly bites down on your lip, you let out a slight gasp, allowing him access inside. Immediately you could feel the cool ball of his piercing touching your tongue, it immediately overtaking yours in a fight for dominance. You fight back however, licking around the top of the piercing, making him let out a low groan. When you pull back for breath, he immediately pushes you down onto the floor, attacking your lips once again. He tugs, licks, and kisses your lips quickly, taking you all in.

He places one hand on your waist, the other on the floor, slowly caressing your hip as you both slow and quicken your kisses. Every time you touch his piercing, he lets out a moan or groan of pleasure, which immediately gets your panties more and more soaked. He slides his hand up towards your chest, lifting up your shirt in the process while breaking the kiss to attack your neck. This causes light gasps and moans to leave your mouth, and he quickly looks up as if he were asking for permission to continue further.

You give him a quick nod, and he slowly lifts you up so you can take off your shirt. You slide it off, leaving you in your pretty black laced sports bra. He licks his lips, drinking in the sight of you underneath him. He continues to attack your neck, slowly going down to the top of your breast, before sucking and leaving a light hickey. He showers you in kisses and hickeys, making sure that you are able to hide most of them from anyone's view. 

With a sigh, you slowly take off your pants revealing your matching pair of black panties to him. He immediately takes in the sight, before whispering something you couldn’t hear. He begins to kiss you once more, slowing down his fervent desire. This kiss seemed more sweet and kind, as if he had been your boyfriend for quite some time. However, he begins to lower his kisses, going down your jawline, down your neck, and stopping at your stomach.

“Are you okay with this?” He slowly says once more, looking up at you with fiery yet sweet eyes. You nod your head excitedly, a small smile gracing your face at the idea of him being so keen on consent. With this, he’s painfully slow at taking off your panties, shortly exposing your pussy to the now humid air. He looks up at you with a blank stare, before lowering himself between your thighs, giving soft butterfly kisses on them.

The next moment, he places a kiss on your wet folds. This causes a shiver to go down your spine, feeling the warmth of his breath on you. He glances up when you move, giving a slight smirk before giving a quick lick on your folds. Due to the ball of his piercing, it gave more pleasure than you thought, immediately making you squirm under his touch. He begins to lick once more, rolling the ball around your clit. This caused many gasps to leave your mouth, as you had never experienced this type of pleasure due to a piercing.

“Oh fuck!” you say out loud, letting out a soft moan as he keeps attacking your pussy with his tongue. This goes on for a bit longer, before you can start to feel yourself slowly come undone. The pleasure had become too much, making you a moaning mess as you grab onto his hair to push him down further.

“G-gonna cum-” You mumble, being interrupted by a moan as he suddenly picks up his pace on eating you out. This causes you to let out a loud moan, your walls clenching as you ride out your orgasm. However, Beomgyu had other plans, continuing to attack your pussy with kisses and licks.

“B-Beomgyu please!” You cry out, body shaking as he uses his piercing on and off of your clit to bring in more pleasure. The overstimulation was too much, and before long you were orgasming once again, this time harder than the last. He luckily stops, climbing back up to kiss you, the taste of you on his lips.

“I’ll be sure to let you back in here, okay sweetheart?”

Part 2 here :)

[lotuslovers]

‘If I ain’t got you’ // luke castellan

wc: 4.3 k

pairing: luke castellan x gender neutral!reader ; luke x child!of demeter

summary: During the Battle of Manhattan, it’s now only left to you to stand up in the way of Kronos destroying Olympus. In the last effort to stop him and try to get your Luke back until Percy and Annabeth get back to complete the prophecy.

trigger warnings: blood(a lot of blood), swords, critical wounds like very descriptive, mentions of death, sacrifices(?)

a/n: FIC BASED ON THE LAST OLYMPIAN‼️ SOME SPOILERS BASED ON CANON SO DONT READ IF YOU ARENT THAT FAR. also a pjo fic? not me deflecting being sad with childhood fandoms that made me happy. also comments and criticism is very appreciated <33

I remember seeing the gold glint in his eyes just before a sharp pain erupted in my stomach.

Pain coursed through me as the loud yells around Olympus blurred momentarily, with the few bits of strength I had, I twisted away from Kronos’ hold, grasping the hilt of my sword tightly. “fuck” I hissed out, knowing in the back of mind that even the best healers wouldn’t be able to fully heal this wound. Backbiters blade was still buried in my abdomen as I felt it slowly begin to tear at my insides, one glance down as the blood began to spill onto the marble floor. Pooling as I swung with my full force at him trying to collide, everything began to slow. Trashing with my sword, his body had turned so fast he just barely missed the swing. Shivers went down my spine at the smirk ghosting his lips.

It left an uneasy feeling and a bitter taste to my mouth. The way his behavior had changed so rapidly in the past year, the smug look overtaking his features was new. It felt foreign as it was nothing like it once been when we were younger. His prideful smile long gone and replaced by a unfamiliar, almost deadly look, set to finish me off. He stared the entire time as if I was prey, I must’ve been. The only thing similar was the sparring style, slightly tweaked while his reaction time was unmatched.

Before I could realized it, my body was already moving as quickly as it could muster. Running on nothing but pure instincts and raw energy. Moving to put as much space as I could slip back into with a slight limp accompanying the movement. The sound of my own ragged breathe echoed in my ears. It had been a reminder of how long they had been dueling, at least seven minutes over what would’ve been the break Luke usually called. Standing away from him with a couple feet distance gazing at each other. On opposite sides we weren’t supposed to be on, it wasn’t suppose to end like this. “Luke” I whispered out pulling all my emotions in to my voice. Just as the words passed over my lips a light pain flickered again through my abdomen making me gasp nearly doubling over. Pulling down my free hand to the open wound. Hot liquid trickled out, coating my palms as I knew with a sick certainty this would all be over soon enough. A gut feeling of alarm screamed at me to run or to hide but I simply wouldn’t. Flames from the nearest hearth reflected on our faces, shadows dancing lighting up his face.

“Luke Castellan is dead.” his voice long gone and replaced by a deeper, much colder voice. I could feel my heart drop as I took in the Titans form, disheveled and armed for war. Seamlessly nothing like the boy I once knew at camp. Any traces of him where long gone by now. Eyes sunken down in their sockets, skin sickly pale, and eyes filled with a murky golden sheen.

Not missing the way his skin hadn’t been cut nor a drop of inchor had been spilt, I was running out of solutions.

Watching as he lazily waved his palm in a circle the air, I could feel my muscles tense as around us grew humid before a dark black shimmering light separated us, swiping his hand across through the mist he grasped the hilt of a sword. Not as magnificent as Backbiter but it looked to be an older greek design with a curved blade scythe, the metal looked of celestial bronze. With ancient greek writing burned bright red as the words translated automatically in my head.

On the blade it read ‘ τελευταία αναπνοή ’ but my brain was hardwired in the language. The sick churning of my stomach hadn’t helped but add to my nerves. One glance and I knew it meant ‘last breath’. As if he could sense the unease, the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement. As if he felt it comical that the blade would have been crafted with such a name. Purposely crafted for bloodshed, particularly mine.

It had taunted me, as the weight of my own sword and armor was finally beginning to take a toll on me. In my peripheral vision I could see tiny black dots as I stilled, both my sword’s and Backbiters hilt in my palms. It’s blade stuck halfway in me as I tried not to move much before a second wave of discomfort could hit. The Titan let out a maniacal laugh as he studied me, visibly tensing when his eyes flickered once to those of Luke’s. Bright blue eyes had looked over at me, as if he was once more here taking in my appearance. Pupils wide while his body moved to rush over to my side, I felt a giddy feeling rush over once more, one I hadn’t felt in a long time. Vaguely in the back of my mind I could feel my heart rate pick up. A sense of comfort switched on, he was there. I wanted to rush to him but the second step he took towards my direction his body fell back. Almost like internally it had happen, his eyes had rolled back into his head as he fell. Looking up without a hesitation I knew they had turned back to a darkened gold color. I knew Castellan was gone once more.

Everything had paused for a second. As I took it in, catching all those stray run away thoughts. Those at camp warned me that he was entirely gone, even the dare girl. Yet for the second I saw those blue eyes I knew he was in there. No matter what Percy or Chiron had said, the second I saw the irises flicker I had known. Deep down in my gut I knew he wasn’t trying to submit anymore to Kronos, the thought started something in me. I’m sure of it. He was still fighting on the inside, he was still here alive. That helped ignite the bit of hope I had to keep pushing. The bit of hope still trapped in pandora’s vase, the same one I’d held in my arms earlier today.

Kronos was getting up again, slowly this time almost failing in the process only to steady himself with an invisible force. A bitter look crossed his face, distain and anger.

That hopefulness had helped but I was still wounded, with half a sword empaled in the side of my abdomen and far too exhausted to admit. In my head not a single move sounded logical, running out of ideas at a rapid rate and was likely going to bleed to death before anyone came. Jumping off the only things I knew to do, I almost mechanically tried to assess everything to stay calm, trying to keep my nerves together as no one wanted to die of something shock induced. Apollo’s campers instructions were bouncing off in my head, repeating to calm down breathing intake and steady the heartbeat. Silently offering a prayer to every god that could spare to hear me out that Luke was in there. Hoping that somehow, maybe somehow he could hold the Titan off at least until Jackson could get here and fulfill the prophecy.

A loud zap of electricity gained our attention, the voice of who I guessed was Thalia call out “FOR THE GODS” sounding blocks away followed by a chorus of hunters. There was no time left but to breathe and grasp on to the little options l had. The only thing stopping Kronus from finishing Olympus was me now, grabbing onto the only bit of plan I had “Luke I know you’re still in there fighting. I know you can hear me, come on” drawing my sword down in what should have been the stupidest move I made. desperate times desperate measures. “Castellan is gone.” Without a glance he flicked a single finger, in a blur i was lifted up, forced back first against a wide marble pillar. Pain flared through my whole body at a higher rate, my spine tingling as if the ambrosia in my system was actively trying to work but was being repulsed. The blood poured out of my wounds faster this time that I wanted, making anxiety course through my veins. It had already soaked entirely through my shirt and was dripping down onto the floor. The only weapon I had thrown out of reach, making quickly to drawl my palms down to effort to compress the growing wound. If anything I hoped my hands pressure on it had stopped most of the potential bleeding. it had to, my palms couldn’t help forever.

“Child of Demeter”

“such a shame this is where you make your stand” voicing bitterly as he slowly approached me, loosely gripping the hilt as it swung angled downward to my face mockingly. The very tip of the blade was keener than my own and for a sick certainty I knew it would do a lot more than backbitters had.

“Luke wanted to protect you, though I see no reason,” he spat out. All traces of Luke’s kind smile bare from that face. Glowering down at me with nothing but what could be described as unbridled hatred. “You are just as pathetic as the rest of the blood spilt on Olympus, you won’t be the only one” reaching me he leaned down. Looking like the boy I used to love know, but I knew it wasn’t him. At least not in control. He was scaring me now, the irises remained stained gold and black.

“You-” halting, seeing the point of his blade lightly trailing down my collar. If I could just get to my sword, it was a couple yards away out of reach. I might as well try to get out of this, without getting killed. But this could’ve taken the cake for being the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and all just from today.

“You’re nothing Kronus. Never will you be anything more than an acknowledgement in the myths…” arms shaking slightly, pumped full of nerves. “Only known as the time Percy Jackson spilt your blood on Olympus, nothing but a lowlife Titan. You're not worth being in Luke's body, you sad excuse for an immortal” I barked out. My own voice sounded scratchy as he howled that sent shivers up my spine. His voice was loud as it felt like it visibly shook the very foundation of Olympus.

“Shall I end your suffering?”

The Titan bitterly spat, allowing the very anger in me to reach its very brim. i wanted it no longer, no longer would i let him take and destroy every last piece of the boy i knew. “Luke” I screamed, not even bothering to address the Titan. Not even missing the way the stark veins around his eyes began to eerily glow a golden sheen. “He is nothing more than a piece to play, you should know you’ve been played your entire life by the Gods. Only he took matters into his own hands”

“He never wanted any of this. He just wanted to be seen, for once by his father and by the gods-“

Pulling back to sheathed his scythe not even bothering to glance this way as he paced around me, almost care free. Though it wasn’t, not by the way his brow would raise or the way his eyesight was unsteady. If anything knowing the bound I had with Luke and the cuts managed to have been left it was certain it wasn’t care free.

“That child of Hermes wanted to protect you. I obliged on my terms, you must be spared so long as you join our ranks. Pity you were too stubborn to, you recall him asking I hope. He made it quite clear to settle for the promise I would do no harm, unless you struck first. Really you could have surrendered in peace, not having to die like the rest of the children of the Gods. Now I don't have much time for games”

“Nakamura” acknowledging his lieutenant, the same one who had I had nearly forgotten his presence. He hurried over from the doorway before bowing to the Titan. It felt sickening thinking that this boy, this young boy who before me was turned into a soldier in this all, a second to luke. Armor hugging his body, shielding mostly every piece of skin from sight. Prepared to fight for Kronos, on the surface level unharmed. But he stood, broad shoulders and sturdy posture, eyes down turned and chewing his lip raw. A shell, of an adolescent, is what I saw. Fighting to help end me and the rest of camp half blood. Someone who wasn’t suppose to do this, if he had only another chance.

“My lord”

“Watch the entry hall, I’ll allow on Castellan’s oath”

The demigod I only knew namely as Lieutenant Nakamura took one look at the situation making sure not to meet my eyes, yet I knew his held nothing but pity. Risking not much more than a glance he turned on his heel and fled out of the throne room. Ignoring the feeling of my piercing gaze on his back, he knew a lot more. It was unsettling that during the time I had seen him he seemed to almost know me, he treated me with some respect earlier and even now. It was as if he knew the story of yours and luke’s to which he very well could’ve being his second. I wondered if Olympus would stand long enough to know him. maybe ethan knew a lot more than his pitied look. Turning towards the man in front of me,

“He wouldn’t want this, I know he’s still in there” I moved my hand to cup his face but he slapped it off of him. Unsheathing the sword to point it down at my jaw “no need for pleasantries, he made his choice”

“get up” turning away, and halting across once past arms length.

come on, get up.

Slowly rising to my feet, making sure to step back and ease towards the center of the room away from the pillars. Tightly grasping onto the hilt of my sword, pulling it up, his message was clear, get up and fight. This must’ve been exactly what the oath was, giving me a fair shot. At least the best chance i could get right now.

Getting up was tough as standing felt like putting more weight onto all my injuries.

I just need to see luke again, I need to know he’s here again, I need to make a plan

“fuck i really need you right now” i whimpered like a prayer. I really was screwed. Not even the pain of my injuries, that coarsed through the body could make me flinch. The high feeling of being half luck and half consciously only was disturbed the insistent stinging.

readying at will, almost as soon as I’d sworn he would have charged, he threw his sword out of his hand. falling with a heavy thud, Kronos fell apart on to his knees before my eyes. As fast as his movements were, he shuffled back on his palms in a temporary daze while I froze.

“GET UP” Annabeth’s voice rung in the back of my head,

“DO SOMETHING, GET,” Percy screamed,

“COME ON” Silena’s voice sobbed,

“please” his voice rang out. fight till the end.

Shaking out of the shock, I pushed through on autopilot falling into the familiar steps. “ 1…, 2…, 3” and I charged. Full of nothing but fear I bounded forward, charged to swipe up at the Titan. Reaching his to bring the blade up, slashing down with all the weight left in my arm. and as if the Gods had granted an ounce of grace, the drops of inchor had began to pour out of the fresh wounds. “go again” Luke’s voice would remind me in my head, allowing me to surge forward at the incapacitated form, “…find a weakness” like that’s so easy when there aren’t any. “remember the training”

Working to carefully get as much inchor as i could to stain the marble floor, slashing through the armor and working around to the armor indents. there’s got to be a way, find it. “there’s always a weakness, you’ve just got to find it” another memory peaked through. Slicing off the metal straps under the breast plate, working to get as close as I could. Not the heart, definitely not the heart. Golden fluids poured out faster, but this time not a trace of it deteriorating the Titan.

If anything his eyes began to fight the gray clouds, the dark golden sheen was slowly starting to reawaken from the haze i was about to be out of time. Swiping in the last attempt to trace out his shoulder blades, a rough shove hit me and redirected my focus.

“shit, shit, shit” I fell back, falling back as Kronos eyes shun with a new fire. Maybe it would’ve been a bit too optimistic to think he’d give me an opportunity to leave anytime soon. “of come on, we haven’t got all day” that things voice spoke, rasper but just as stone cold as ever. Rising off his knees to make quick use of shedding the rest of his armor, and summoning the fallen sword to his palms. Bitterness tainted my tongue.

And he charged, moving at such a pace he hadn’t unleashed before with a new found anger. Making moves to swipe up a upper cut arch of his blade being met with the quick shuffle of my feet working to slipping back on my other foot as fast I could muster.

But not nearly fast enough, he had slices my arm and slowly kept gaining more room. Pushing intently as he charged once more. Working to push me back, and in turn he swung another upper cut slicing down across my body, slicing. The moment I thought I was clear before I meant his eyes once more as time slowed, satisfaction adorned them. And I new I messed up as the second unreasonably stretched out, the cut on my cheek was not his intention, he missed on purpose. Falling through with his strict to just barely turn the blade the very second before it would cut downward and cutting it downwards to my calf. I knew the second it hit my body had gone on far too long, and I couldn’t last as I crumpled.

As fast as it happened, I was down once more. Turning as the pain spread throughout my body, and he lingered above me, leaning down to put as much weight onto me, pain erupting as a sob fell from my lips. Suffocating me as his fingers, once adored with scares from capture the flag, now we’re reaching down to grasp the swords hilt that was in my abdomen. A cruel smile adorned his face…as he twisted.

Laying there motionless. An unbearable weight sat over me, forcefully working to press me down on the tile, the more I struggled the more the blade lodged into me dug up. I knew he was watching but I couldn't see him anymore, I only saw the thrones and the pillars. In that moment I knew I was done for it, my only hope being that some ounce of Luke would come out but I didn’t know if that was even worth hoping.

My blood glowed a sickly maroon color compared to the golden drops coming down his face. He managed to crouch in front of me, as he traced my jaw with his finger tips, the same that used to get me flustered at the contact years ago now gave me an immense feeling of sickness in my stomach but at the same time a sick ease knowing he was still there.

“see you again, another time luke” I managed to choke out as my head started to buzz so vigorously that all my thoughts became muddled and mixed together as the world started to fade.

The buzzing was followed with the light far away sounds of people charging up Olympus’ steps. thump, thump, thump, thumppp drummed consistently. Muffled sobs follow by the painful moans of what sounded to be Annabeth as she discovered the scene, echoing in the background only to be followed by the pain stake of Percy’s screams…

They said dying would hurt,

but they had admittedly lied.

I recall it was freezing cold, as I felt all the heat in my body slowly dispersed, the warm blood that once coated my abdomen had started to cool. Not even the heat of the hearth or the roaring pain seemed to give me any warmth.

It was like a dark trance consumed me, if I was falling but I knew I was still breathing. I could feel the thump of my heart beat slowly, thumpp, thump, thump; as it became so loud to slow until the last bit of sounds died out. The last words I ever heard were the screaming of Annabeth followed by the loud painstaking half sob/half yell out of Jackson’s mouth. And then the voices stopped, it finally grew quiet.

It was a final moment as the pain didn’t mean anything anymore,

the smell of iron long forgotten,

the taste of it fading of my tongue,

and the last energy fizzling out leaving my body.

all before finally meeting a deep feeling of content.

Everywhere around me was darkness as I simply was existing by conscious. Up until I landed on a riverbank, the sound of water churning and the feeling of sand underneath my soles let me know. Recognizing that I knew exactly where I had been, at the River of Styx because I was now officially and irreversibly dead. All around me it was silent as I watched waiting for Charon’s boat, hoping enough time had passed for me to have a proper burial. Time worked in weird ways often faster in the underworld so I hoped it would also be a sign that Percy had succeeded. So as fingers fumbled checking my pockets no drachmaes were found. Despite that realization I also looked down to realize all my clothing had been fixed and clean as they were this morning. Every ounce of blood, dirt and stains had been gone along with looking brand new. Waiting on the banks for what felt like minutes until a creak of a boat landing sounded. Turning towards the boat a feeling of a extra weight being added to my jeans caught my attention. Reaching to grasp the weight in my pockets I brought a handful of drachmas(enough for more than my passage) out to hand over to the man.

Olympus must have been saved, and a sigh of relief allowed me to drop the weight of it all. If I hadn’t been disoriented from newly being dead I’m sure I would’ve freaked out. Instead on vaguely passing throughout the entire experience.

Standing in all his glory with an outreached palm towards me. He wore a suit with red satin material that drank in all the underworlds light. His eyes were darkened maroon as they glimmered like fire embers. Reaching to look for any money I hoped I had been buried with he waved me off. “No payment young demigod, you’ve been spoken for by Hades. Come along” his hand held out to mine as I grabbed it. His palm felt transparent as if it would disappear in any instant as it weighed less then a quarter.

Pulling me inside the boat with a few other passengers who I couldn’t recognize that must’ve been mortals. none of them young, atleast not demigod young. they wore worn clothes with various cuts but nothing big. The passage was freezing cold as he snapped his fingers and we were off slowly heading down the river. Going down through twists and steering past sand bars before starting to pass fields and seeing more used places. Lines of the dead slowly began to be seen as we approached the shore.

When I had reached the lines for judgment I realized many things along the haze of everything catching up the with. The first being one of the Hermes’ campers was being placed into Elysium, one of Luke’s sisters. And even amongst the long lines filled with mortals they were also littered with demigods. Those faces who I recognized were the head counselor from Apollo cabin, a brother of mine from Demeter cabin, and one of boys from Dionysus. Then I saw a younger boy from the Ares cabin, he didn’t appear older than sixteen but I knew his name was Oliver. They were all so young, the kids I knew at camp now layed on top of the camp fire with a shroud covering their heads. Too many had I recognized, from both side.

As the lines moved fast, as a couple more campers pilled into the lines. Only a few I had known from teaching sword fighting lessons, but more often than not I knew their name, godly parent and which side they fought on.

Judgement had blurred, reliving the entirety of my life all over in the spam of seconds. As I walked down to path towards Elysium, I knew I hadn’t regretted anything in life besides yk the whole luke thing wondering about that,

I felt hands reach out, brushing the strands of his blonde hair away from his eyes as his other arm wrapped around me for a overdue hug. Before me was once more the blue eyed boy of my childhood, “Luke..”

_____

taglist: i just made a form you can fill out to be added, links in my navigation under faq<3

a/n: i’m honestly not sure if i will in the future write pjo more, this has just been in my drafts from when i was super nostalgic towards it. i hope my first try at “action” is decent bc it’s so different to get use to.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character. 

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

***************

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side. 

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke. 

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you. 

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

[jaeminscoffee]

After wedding shenanigans | J. JH

Pairing- Jung Jaehyun x reader

Genre- Fluff, Smut.

Word count- 2.52k

Warning(s)- typical lyra smut, proper pwp, sensual intercourse, a little roughed, fingering (prep), softdom!Jaehyun..?, slightest bit of breeding kink (yes, jaehyun unloads inside. But this is a fiction, so play it safe), praise kink.

Synopsis- Sure the wedding could be considered the best time of your lives for the both of you, but the after wedding activity was what Jaehyun was more excited about at the end of the day.

Type- requested!

@kpopscape

"Oh finally alone."

The pieces of night had fallen into place, complete as though you'd just finished a two hundred piece puzzle. 

The wedding night went on successfully, vows were taken, rings were exchanged, lips touched and hearts connected. And of course, the bouquet-throwing ceremony towards the end to determine the next wedding. 

Then came the after wedding reception. You changed out of your heavy gown, instead opting for a more subtle and comfortable dress, flowy to the floor, white the same as the wedding gown, just a little more easy breathing. And because you didn't want to stain your wedding dress with champagne stains, it's too precious for that.

Mrs. Jung. 

You found that title very flattering, to have the 'Jung Jaehyun' as your husband is flattering. The night the ends were made, wishes were passed, you thought of it as the best day of your life. 

Not for Jaehyun apparently, who's frantically trying to push the both of you further into the room, kicking close the door behind him not evening bothering to make sure it's locked 

Jung Jaehyun is a man of high sex drive and that comes of as no shocking fact. 

Even during normal days he'd find it hard to keep his hands off of you, well the same goes for you too but he's just topped you in that factor. His college roommates called you two lovesick rabbits. Well, mainly because of the rabbit like sex drive, also because of how lovey dovey you two always have been. 

It wasn't until years after your relationship that stood as strong as ever, when you, actually beat him into proposing the idea of spending the rest of your lives with each other in a rather comical way that you two decided to get a house of your own. 

Yes, you were the first one to propose, which only increased Jaehyun's love for you. Others found it weird how the female had been the first to ask the male out, but Jaehyun rather found it hot. Your boldness had turned into one of his biggest turn ons. 

"Slow down, boy" you laugh into the kiss when you almost stumble back, your heels doing little to nothing to keep you stable, which, other than Jaehyun's hands around your waist, you wouldn't be. He groans once he stands up onto his feet after making sure you're safely laying on the bed. 

"How the fuck do i do that when you look like this" he threw his head back, removing the now suffocating bow tie and discarding it somewhere behind him. 

Jaehyun meant it. Watching you go around the party hall accepting wishes and presents with a beautiful godly smile was all too much for him. His heart felt content. He felt full. Finally having you all for himself as he'd always dreamed of and now, he doesn't have to worry about anyone stealing you from him. 

"Like what?" you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him slowly remove his tux coat, leaving him in nothing but a white button up shirt that has its sleeves rolled up and a black formal office pants.

You brace yourself to hear a very cheesy, cringe worthy yet heart fluttering answer from his end when he passes you a knowing smile, leaning down and forward to hover over you. Arms by the sides of your propped up elbow, face close enough to have a sniff of the champagne you two had downed. 

"Like an angel" he leaned forward, the smile still prominent on his face. Jaehyun places a kiss on your lips for a short second before pulling away, leaning sideways towards the nape of your neck, right below your earlobes,

"My angel" he blows into your ear, the feeling ticklish which was easily hooded by your now heating up self. Yes, it was cringe and extremely cliché, yet coming from him; You felt like a high school kid who'd just been asked out by her crush. You left like you're in cloud nine. 

The playful mood was immediately set aside when Jaehyun's previous frenzy took over him again. Attaching his lips onto the raw skin of your exposed neck, he placed a few love bites here and there. Mindful to scatter it all over your neck, in case anyone even dared staring at you for more than a few seconds, they'd know you're taken. Taken by him. 

"You're so cheesy" you rasped out the best you could, breath growing short and frantic as he worked his way south, wet lips moving towards your slightly showing cleavage that tempted him throughout the day. He nipped right between your chest at your words, a mischievous yet desperate smile adorning his features, causing your breath to hitch. 

"Just for you" he replied with the same emotions your voice portrayed. 

It could've been your activities or the hotel room must've grown in humidity as you felt the need to rip your gown up and away from your body. So you tapped at the back of his neck which you'd held custody since he started his ministrations. "Get these off me" you plead once his attention was focused on you. 

"It stays on, darling." you whine at his reply causing him to let out a throaty groan at the feeling of something twitch down there. You scoot backwards to create enough space for you to remove your own gown, "You look so fucking sexy in it."

"Can you leave it on for me, love?" He questioned, now standing up to remove the shirt. Not bothering to go button by button, instead, ripping it open instead. Discarding it the same way he did with his coat and tie, his pants following suit.

His voice mixed with the way he's glowing right now, the lights of the room highlighting all of his godly features and the slight plea in his command you oblige, opting to lay back down comfortably on the bed with the gown ridden up just a little to expose your lace inner and look at him with a sultry look, luring him closer to you. 

Wasting no more time, Jaehyun decided it was enough of a wait for both of you as he quickly climbed onto the bed, "Only because i love you" you let out when he came in close, taking up his previous position on top of you.

"I love you too." with that, he engulfed your lips with his, not bothering to slow down as tease has started to become too much for him and his little (not that little) friend down there, and by the way you were constantly rubbing your thighs together, it probably had gotten painful for you to take it slow too. 

You whimper into the kiss when you feel his hand travel all over your body, reaching under the dress to rip the now soaked lace lingerie you'd worn to give him a show (which was a futile attempt as he'd not bothered to look at it for even a second before ripping it off impatiently like an animal in heat) as it joins the pile of his clothes on the floor. 

It was when he cupped your heat with his jewel adorned hand that you began trembling with pleasure. His warm hands in contrast to the cold metal all too pleasurable as you'd finally got some sort of relief at your throbbing core. "J-Jae.."

Jaehyun hushes your whimpers, contemplating whether to actually take time to prepare you after feeling how much you're dripping already. "Such an angel, you're dripping love, doll. Should I even prepare you?" He asked rhetorically. 

"Fingers.. Jae i need you" you moan wanting to feel his beautiful slender digits piston in and out of you. "Hm? You want my fingers?" he asks to which you confirm enthusiastically, "Alright, anything for my wife" 

You were half embarrassed by the fact that the moment he let two fingers slide in smoothly, you'd already felt yourself close to your edge but the other half far too driven by pleasure when he'd started moving his fingers to care enough. 

"Does my doll like that?" Jaehyun inquires, setting a fast, steady pace to move his fingers in and out of you, the rings brushing on your plush walls making your whole being tremble, along with the tips of his finger brushing against your sweet spot turning you into a complete moaning mess. 

"Answer me, love" Settling on his knees to steady himself, Jaehyun brought his other hand up to your chin to make you look at him with a vice grip on your chin. His gaze made you shudder and shrink when he'd felt you clench around his digits. "Y-yes.. I love..-it" he hums with satisfaction. 

Too far into your own zone, your moans mixed with Jaehyun's actions and his sweet nothings, with the squelching sounds echoing throughout the wall, you felt the knot at the bottom of your stomach tighten painfully. All too familiar with you constantly clenching around his fingers, he picks up speed to which your back arches off the bed, "Ja-Jaehyun I'm.. Close. So. -fucking close-!" 

You moan out loud at the addition of his thumb on your clit, which pulled the last string seconds after, coaxing your orgasm out of you, "So well. Look at you, darling. You look ethereal when you come" he stills his wrist, letting you grind your hips onto his fingers to prolong your orgasm, as he watches you moan with your nose scrunched up, your eyebrows knitted and your mouth slightly open ajar. 

You only stop your actions when you felt it was too much for you, and because you heard a moan coming from your husband's end. You look straight at him, only to see him staring back at you with the same intensity while palming himself, which had another wave of pleasure wash over your being as he'd looked so hot at the moment. 

It wasn't once or twice or three times, instead everyday when you'd remind Jaehyun that you thought he was surreal. And that god shows favoritism as he has the looks of that of greek sculptures or maybe even, dare you say, better than the sculptures themselves. 

So when you see his dark eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hooded with lust and desperation, his once perfectly gelled hair now disheveled with a few strands falling stray over his eyes. His lips a shade of deep crimson from the previous frantic make out and his constant lip biting, you let yourself out a silent moan which prompted Jaehyun to hover over you for the nth time that night.

"Jaehyun.." you whimper with an airy voice.

"Fuck me, please" you take his face between both your palms to urge him forward the exact moment he let out a loud groan at your lewd words. You shift below him in a way to allow the head of his shaft to prod at your entrance the moment you capture his lips into a much slower kiss. 

The feeling of your wetness and heat on his painfully inflated member when he slowly eased himself inside up to the brim had him bite down rather harshly on your bottom lips, making drawing the slightest of blood out to which you moan. 

"You're so fucking perfect, doll. You take me in so perfectly.." you both let out a sigh of content at the feeling of being full as you urge Jaehyun to move and not waste more time in taking the next step to lock you in as his for once and for all.

Jaehyun moves his hips backwards  collectively pulling out more than half of his shaft outside, letting just the tip of the head linger at your core, removing his lips from yours, instead opting to find home back at the nape of your neck, which now glowed of pretty red and purple love bites before slamming back inside you with all he'd got, making you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. 

"Oh god, Jae that..-feels so good. So.. So.-good" you whine while he moved faster and faster, one hand clenching your dress and holding it up above your breast while the other dropped down to balance himself on his elbows to avoid crushing you, "Yeah..?" he inquired, which came out as a shaky growl from how fast he was moving. 

"Yeah.. So,..-good" you bite back a whine to hear his moans loud and clear, which caused your body to release another round of arousal at his deep groans and growls.

The wetness dripping onto the sheets with each of his thrusts, causing wet noises to resonate throughout the dim lit room, his moans and your moans mixed causing waves of mixed emotions churn inside you. "You feel so good around me too, love. I'm going to come, urgh-" Jaehyun struggles to keep a steady pace at your constant clenching. 

You squirm underneath him, feeling yourself grow hotter and closer to the edge with each of his sloppy thrusts, whining out loudly when he starts twitching inside of you. "I'm going to come inside,  darling, fill you up to the brim, yeah?" he inquires, not really expecting an answer when he feels you clench harder around his already twitching member which causes him to grit his teeth to hold himself back from coming for a little longer. 

"You like the idea, hm?" 

"You like the idea of me fucking my come inside of you? You like the idea of walking around with my child inside you? Hm?" he asks with pauses as you make it harder for him to move with how much of a tight hold you had on his dick. "Jae..-" you whine out loud at his lewd words, the idea intriguing you enough to throw you off the edge, while blushing really hard

"Jesus fucking christ, Y/n.." He let himself unload right after you, still keeping a slow pace to make sure not a drop of his essence would drip out of you, which was hard considering that your arousal mixed with your come and his had become too much for your body to withhold, causing you to writhe in overstimulation under him as he immediately collapses over you, the feeling of your walls clenching weakly around his now soft member causing him to twitch in the same emotion as you. 

Taking a minute or so to calm down your palms flat on his sweaty back, the other playing with his hair while his hand worked on your side to cool down the burning skin, you speak up, "I do like it.." you let out softly.

You hear a slow and silent questioning hum from his end beside your head, as you speak up louder, "I do like the idea of walking around with your child inside of me" you claim shyly as you feel his hands halt at your sides, his head moving side-wards to place a peck on your cheek with a quirky smirk on his lips, the hands now gripping your side with a slightly tight grip, 

"Round two, then?" 

[isthisthingeven0n]

coping mechanisms : a.h

everyone has their ways of coping with traumatic events, but it’s finally time you faced yours. (2.5K)

m y  e t s y  s h o p

also pls don’t steal my work or share it without crediting, it takes a lot of time and effort to write these!

Sitting on the jet, you were abnormally quiet. Usually, the team couldn’t get you and Spencer to stop talking about anything and everything. Yet today, a strange silence loomed over you as Spencer rambled on about statistics, whilst Hotch tried to catch gaze from across the table that everyone besides you noticed.

“You know, based on Greek mythology, Ares is the God of War, son of Hera and Zeus and is one of the twelve Olympians. He’s also the equivalent of Mars in Roman mythology.” Spencer finishes his explanation with a small smile towards the team as your eyes remain fixated on the case file in front of you, something that didn’t go amiss by Hotch.

“So, this unsub thinks of himself as a God?” JJ questions as she scrolls through the various photos on her tablet of the nine victims so far.

“Each one has a new symbol on them, you see, on their wrists?” You finally speak up to everyone’s surprise. “Spence, are these symbols correlating to the other eleven Olympians?” You ask, focusing on your best friends gaze as his smile meets his eyes.

Taking in all of the images, Spencer nods. “It looks that way, but this one here, the sun which would symbolise Apollo, the God of archery, music, dance, healing diseases, truth and prophecy, and more recognisably sun and light. But it isn’t quite complete, looks as if the unsub was interrupted.” Spencer explains, watching as your interest quickly declines, and you lean back into your seat.

“Maybe there will be some security footage outside of the bar leading toward the alleyway the victim was found.” Hotch states, closing his case file as the jet begins to descend. “Morgan, I want you and JJ to go to the ME’s office, see if the symbols all correlate and any other marks that may be on the victims. Rossi, you and Reid go to the crime scene where Olivia Collins was found, see if anyone in the area saw anything. Y/n, you and I will go to the station.” Hotch tries to see if you’ll even focus on him, but you’ve retreated into yourself, shut down.

Eventually, you nod along with everyone else, unaware of the concern etched in Hotch’s hardened expression as you close your eyes, rubbing your temple as you lean against the window.

*

“Agent Hotchner?” A man walks over to you and Hotch, holding his hand out. “Officer Richards, a pleasure to meet you.”

“This is SSA Y/L/N, where would you like us to set up?” Hotch asks as you follow behind him to a free room, passing the blur of noise of phone calls and officers talking. “Y/n?” Hotch calls out your name, snapping out of your daze.

“Sorry,” You apologise, feeling the heat rising through your cheeks as Hotch hums to himself.

“Is something wrong, Y/n?” Hotch questions as he sits down beside you in the private office, his hands resting on the table. “If there is, you can tell me, especially if it affects your ability to work on the case.” Hotch tells you, his voice softer as your eyes grow heavy once more as you hide your hands in your lap.

“I don’t know Hotch,” You sigh. “and that’s the issue.”

Rising to his feet, Hotch closes the door to the room, shutting out the noise from the rest of the station as he returns to his seat beside you. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you? You seemed jittery on the jet.” Hotch states, not even needing you to agree with him.

“I just,” You struggle to form the correct words as you focus on your boss who looks back at you with a gentle expression. “I’m not feeling like myself, Hotch. And I just, I don’t know what to do about it anymore.”

Silence falls over you both as you play with the hem of your shirt, not wanting to face your bosses reaction. “Is it related to Utah?” Hotch watches as you tense at the mention of it. “If it is, you’re still entitled to see someone about it, Y/n.”

“But it was months ago, Hotch.” You comment quickly. “I should be over it, I moved on, I got better.” You explain. “So why is it now coming back to haunt me?” You exhale deeply.

“What happened to you in Utah isn’t something you can just walk away from, Y/n. You were captured and beaten, held at gunpoint in front of all of us to watch.” Hotch pauses as tears form in your eyes, one escaping as it glides across your cheek.

It was a sight Hotch will never be able to forget. He was the first one to find you in that building as you lay on the ground too weak to move. You were muttering nonsense as you screamed in pain when he tried to help you to your feet.

You were gone for three weeks, and in that time you were filmed being tortured and threatened to be killed whilst your team watched on a live stream. Hotch had never felt so useless since Hayley had died, and he didn’t dare want to risk losing you too, even if he had never said anything about how he felt.

“I know, I just want to forget about it.” You admit, wiping your eyes quickly with the cuff of your sleeve. “I have to.” You forcefully state before reaching over for the case files, but Hotch places his hand on the file, stopping you from taking it.

“Y/n,” Hotch starts with his authoritative tone. “you need to speak to someone when the case is over, and that’s an order.”

“I will, Hotch.” You force a small smile, taking the file and delving in deeper to the evidence that’s been collected so far.

“I’m saying that as your boss, and, and as a friend, okay?” Hotch adds softly, witnessing your forced smile soften into something genuine, even if it were for a split second, it returned.

*

You were getting closer, four more bodies had been found with the symbols of Hermes, Ares, Posideon and Hades carved into their wrists.

“What if the unsub knows we’re onto him? And this is his endgame now?” JJ suggests.

“But he hasn’t finished all twelve.” You state bluntly, ignoring the look on JJ’s face as you rise to your feet and look over the victim pool once more.

“Maybe that doesn’t matter to him.” Hotch comments, stepping toward you as he stands by your side, his back turned to everyone else. “Keep level, Y/L/N.” He mutters to you, a shudder going through your body as Hotch averts his attention back to the rest of the team. “Each of his victims has been associated in some way with each Olympian. Maybe he doesn’t have all twelve in the first place.”

“He’s halfway through the twelve though, why stop now?” Emily speaks up as Garcia interrupts and appears on the screen.

“Good afternoon my favourite crime fighters. I’ve discovered something that I think might help with your suspect pool.” Garcia states brightly. “It looks as if the victims were all part of the same after school club in High School. All from different friend groups and societies, but they all attended the Greek mythology club at Preston State.”

“How many others were involved in this group, baby girl?” Morgan asks, leaning forward as you listen to the sound of Garcia typing becoming further and further away.

“Four others. There’s Hayden Lewis who is currently serving seven months in jail for possession of drugs, Jordan Littlewood, she moved upstate to Michigan last year, Elise Harding and oh,” Garcia pauses, and you zone back into the room as you reach for the back of a chair to support yourself on.

“What?” JJ enquiries as Penelope pushes her glasses back up her nose, focusing on the camera.  

“When the group was in school, there was a fire in the same block that the club was held in. It says that six students and one teacher were killed in the accident, including Greek mythology club member, Timothy Cardel.” Garcia sadly sighs.

“What time of day did the fire occur Garcia?” Spencer leans forward in his chair, and you can see the cogs whirring behind his eyes.

“Erm,” Garcia hums to herself until she clicks on something. “3:35 pm on a Tuesday.”

“What’re you thinking, Reid?” Hotch focuses on Spencer as you take a seat, catching Hotches eye for a split second before Spencer starts to explain his thought process.

“Most school clubs happen after school, meaning there’s a high possibility the Greek mythology club was held on a Tuesday after school, and all the members were there when the fire happened. If school finishes at 3, then they would’ve all been in that building when the fire started.” Spencer explains, and you nod along.

“Meaning Timothy got left behind.” You state coldly, all eyes turning to you.

“I think we’re ready to deliver the profile,” Hotch announces as he rises to his feet, the rest of you following suit.

*

Fastening the velcro around your vest, you place your gun into its holster, unaware of Hotch hovering by the doorway as you exit.

“Y/n,” Catching you by surprise, you jump before glaring to Hotch. “sorry,” He tries to sound sincere, but a small smile creeps into his face as you relax beside him. “are you sure you want to do this? It might be best if you stay at the station.” Hotch suggests in a low tone.

“No,” You respond too quickly. “I, I want to come. I’m fine, really.” You add, nodding to yourself as you walk on, but Hotch reaches for your arm, pulling you back.

Your eyes focus on his hand resting on your arm, and quickly Hotch removes his hand from your arm. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He tells you sincerely, something you’ve heard countless times, but something about this seems different. No one else in the team is around, they’re all outside waiting for you both.

“I won’t.” You mutter in response, moving aside from Hotch as you exit the building, thankful for some fresh air as your vest is starting to feel constrictive.

Upon arriving at the unsubs house, you’re already feeling the humidity getting to you worse than it had been the entire time you’d been in the city. Spencer joked when the jet landed that you’ll get used to it, that fewer layers were key and Garcia would’ve loved a chance to see Morgan in fewer layers; but this was far from pleasant.

As you all filed out, guns at the ready Morgan followed behind Hotch whilst you’re on the tail end of the team.

You were unintentionally squinting as you listen to the sound of Morgan kicking the front door in as Hotch’s firm voice fills your ears.

“Y/n?” Snapping out from the blurred house, three versions of Spencer takes over your peripheral. “Hey, let’s sit down, okay?” Spencer speaks quietly, delicately as he reaches out to take a hold of your arm, but you jolt away.

“Get off me.” You snap, walking past him as your vision only worsens and the humidity seeps through your clothing, itching your skin as each step feels weighted until you reach the steps of the house.

Hotch emerges behind JJ and Morgan as they hold the unsub, passing you quickly, hiding their concerned looks.

“Y/L/N?” Hotch steps closer, capturing a glimpse of panic in your eyes just as you pass out as your head hits the pavement.

*

Cold coffee and stale doughnuts. The well worn in fabric beneath you had a spring sticking out, jabbing against your left thigh. You were back in the station. But what was more surprising was the hushed sound of a conversation ending between two of your colleagues whilst your eyes remained closed.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell her?” Rossi mutters as he averts his gaze from your ‘sleeping’ form to Hotch, who is unable to take his eyes from you for a single second.

“I’m not sure, Dave.” Hotch admits, wanting to reach out and brush the stray hairs out of your face, but he doesn’t want to risk waking you up, not yet at least. “Maybe someday, but not today.”

Rossi tuts to himself. “You’re letting all the good ones slip out of your grasp, Aaron,” Rossi comments. “and you know how much Jack loves her.”

The mention of Jack causes your heart to swell, and it takes everything for you to not smile as you gain consciousness.

“He’s not the only one,” Hotch adds, just as a yawn escapes your lips and you begin to open your eyes.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Rossi speaks up, rising to his feet whilst Hotch stays glued to his chair beside you.

Slowly, you try to sit upright but Hotch leans forward, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “I’d just stay lying for a while if I were you.” Hotch suggests as you nod along, forcing yourself back down.

“I’ll go check on the others, let them know you’re alright.” Rossi excuses himself, leaving a heavy silence over you and Hotch.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” Hotch asks, his stern gaze concentrated on the exhaustion in yours.

“No time like the present.” You force a laugh, ignoring Hotch’s prior suggestion and sit upright as a slight pang crosses your temples. “I’m going to take some leave when we get back to Quantico.” You tell Hotch, watching as he nods.

“I think it’s for the best, Y/L/N.” He responds, catching the sight of your leg bouncing for a moment before you rest your hand on your thigh, forcing it to remain still.

“I know I’m due for a lecture, and a debriefing about the mission,” You hold back the urge to sigh, but Hotch beats you to it as a heavy sigh leaves his lips, causing you to smile.

The sight of a smile crossing your face is too contagious at the moment between you both. “We can talk more when we’re back. For now, I think it’s best if we just got you home in one piece.” Hotch stands up and hovers beside you, his arm extended as you gratefully accept.

“Thanks, Hotch.” You smile softly up to him as you exit the sheriff's office and near the rest of your team.

After a series of short questions, you’re all heading towards the jet.

“I couldn’t be happier to go home.” JJ sighs as she rests her head in her hand, looking out at the city as you near the airport.

Sitting beside Hotch in the passenger seat, your eyes glance over to him. “Me too,” You reply, a smile gracing your lips, knowing there’s more yet to be discussed with Hotch, including what he said before you fully woke up. “me too.” 

[katierosefun]

I’ve seen the discussion about Sympathy for Mr Vengeance in one of your previous posts, and I’m tempted to put in my two cents if I may. It’s actually one of my “homing-pigeon” movies too (and, coincidentally, the day I sent you that ask I was considering rewatching it for the third time – and I eventually did). I can’t quite put my finger on it but there’s just something so compelling about both the story and the aesthetic of this movie.

(Cont’d) And maybe I’m wrong but it seems to me there’s an interesting interplay between the two. Like, the constant focus on the aesthetic aspect creates some kind of an emotional distance but at the same time gives a certain symbolism to the story, a universal feel. Indeed, it’s a bit like a Greek tragedy

(Cont’d 2) Also, Ryu is probably the most enigmatic movie character I’ve ever seen. He seems to have a very unusual way of thinking, a logic that is fascinatingly mysterious. Again, I still can’t pinpoint how this impression is created, but that’s the feeling I get every time. (Sorry for being so vague; this has turned out to be frustratingly hard to put into words even though I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while)

oh god, yeah--i also love sympathy for mr. vengeance in that it absolutely is a tragedy. there’s something so . . . captivating about this entire movie too, in the way that it’s filmed and the colors and the gloomy atmosphere and yet, at least in the beginning, it doesn’t feel like all hope is lost. 

but i don’t even know if that’s an appropriate way to describe the beginning of the movie--because even when i say things like gloomy and hope, that doesn’t seem to quite fit sympathy for mr. vengeance. there’s just something kinda . . . idk, it just sticks. like humidity? that’s the best way i can describe it--like, when it gets so humid that you can literally feel the press of the water in the air against your skin, and it feels unpleasant, and maybe a fan provides some temporary comfort, but you know that as soon as you turn the fan off, you’ll feel the oppressive heat again. 

like, that’s how the movie feels to me. humid, which doesn’t mean that it’s a bad movie--it just means that it sort of clings to the audience. 

also, the aesthetic. god, yes, i love the aesthetic of the movie--again, the colors! ryu’s bright green hair and the red roses and the grey concrete and yeong mi’s bright orange tank top . . . the shot of yeong mi and ryu on yeong mi’s bed (you know the one, where yeong mi kisses ryu’s cheek, and ryu’s just kinda drifting) . . . that has to be one of my favorite shots. 

which gets us to ryu . . . oh, my precious ryu . . . he really is perhaps one of the most interesting characters in the park chan wook universe. i love him so much. i agree with you in that i also don’t know what it is about ryu that makes me so insane about him. he’s just . . . i have so much affection for him, as well as a lot of sadness about him, because something something he’s a good person and things just . . . [gestures vaguely]

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia, “Blood of the Gods.”

Humanity humanity is a strange thing, 

She plays with the elements 

Holds hands with the stars

And is rocked to sleep by the fury of nature 

 - Preface from the “Human Enigma” By Dr. Krill 

Rain thundered down from above.

Rivulets of water as large as small waterfalls cascaded over the side of the room and onto the soft-sandy dirt below. The sky above was a deep cloudy grey shot through with veins of white sunshine managed to peek through the cloud cover. Dr Krill poked his head around the side of the door and out onto the porch.

Adam was sitting there in a T-shirt and shorts just on the front step not a few inches away from the cascading water. Little droplets of water had already beaded on his exposed skin.

“What are you doing out here?” Krill wondered stepping onto the porch and raising his voice just to be heard over the cascading water.

“I like watching the rain.” he motioned krill over with a hand, “Come, sit, watch with me.”

Krill was not so sure about all this. He didn’t see the appeal of water falling, but walked over anyway and floated on the step next to the human. Water still continued to pool in great puddles by the side of the house, and the air around them was unusually humid and hot.

The human tilted his head back and took a long deep breath, “Too bad you don’t have a sense of smell doctor.”

“Why?” He looked around, “Water doesn’t usually have a smell.”

“But RAIN does.” He took another deep breath, “Probably one of the best smells in the world…. It's comforting, refreshing, makes you feel like mother nature singing you to sleep with her most beautiful lullaby.”

“Waxing poetic this morning?’

“Days like this do that to me.”

“I thought you would hate the rain.”

The human turned his head to look at Krill frowning, almost as if he was offended by such a suggestion, “What would make you think that?”

“Can’t fly on a day like this.”

The human shook his head, “I COULD it would just be inadvisable. Besides flying and the rain like this are two different things. One is a release, and the other is just…. peaceful .”

Krill turned his head back to the cascading water and the darkening sky above. He supposed it made sense, the white noise mixed with the slight darkness would be enough to put a human to sleep. He had used some of the same principles in medical work to calm agitated humans 

“Some scientists think our love of the smell of rain is an evolutionary response to how important rain is for humans.”

That too made sense. Humans were more than half water.

Adam closed his eyes, “The word for the smell of water is petrichor from the greek roots Petri which means stone and ichor which means blood of the gods.”

“That is… surprisingly poetic.”

“I always thought so.”

The human sighed and lay back onto porch letting the warm water cascade over his bare feet. Krill watched quietly as the human napped peacefully on the wooden planks of the front porch simply listening to the rain.

After a while, the human opened an eye and looked over at him, “There is one other great thing about warm rain.”

Krill sighed and waited for whatever the human was about to do or say that was completely dumb. 

The human smiled at him, and as he waited the smile grew bigger and bigger until the human was grinning fit to burst.

“PUDDLES!” 

Arms raised knees churning, the human raced out into the rain becoming immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. Krill hurried to the edge of the porch in shock and concern and bewildered fascination as the human danced around in the thundering rain.

His clothes were already soaked, his hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped down from his chin in a cascade. 

He whooped with glee as he danced through the rain kicking up water with his feet from the large puddles that had accumulated in the yard. Some of the puddles were so deep they went up over his ankles, but the deeper the puddle the better as the human splaished and frolicked in the rain.

Dr. krill sat back and watched shaking his head as he watched the human playing out in the elements, seeming so happy and carefree as water poured from the sky. Mist rose up around him from the once hot pavement giving the air a sort of hazy quality.

He spun around in a wide circle amrs threw out to either side.

He paused and looked at Krill still standing under the protection of the roof. With one hand he waved him over. His T shirt and short were dark with water and sagged against his frame, sticking to his chest and legs, “Come on, its fun.”

Krill shook his head, “I think Observation is enough to sate my curiosity.”

“Oh come on Dr. Water wont kill you, and besides, there is no better way to learn than from experience.”

“I don’t think so.”

The human shook his head and trotted up the sidewalk. Krill tried to back away, but a hand passed through the torrent of water from the roof -- now spilling over the gutters-- and dragged him into the rain.

Krill was suddenly doused with a cascade of warm water that had him sputtering before he came out the other side.

Rain roared down from above spattering against his skin and rolling off his antenna.

It was surprisingly warm as it pooled around his feet.

The human tugged him along as he danced through the puddles sending waves of contaminated water up against krill’s chest.

The human tilted his head back, arms held out to either side allowing the rain to fall onto his exposed face.

Krill watched him for the longest time before finally tilting his head back allowing the rain to roll down over his face. Then, with some trepidation he held his arms out to either side.

The sensation was surprising. He suddenly felt as if he was falling upwards into the sky. Warm water trickled down his body and his mind stilled a bit as the rhythm of the rain took over. Rivulets of water ran from his hands and arms and off his legs onto the water beneath.

Beside him, the human was doing the same.

They were close to the porch now still looking up at the deafening sky.

Krill turned to look over at the human still playing in the puddles when he suddenly stopped and grew very still. Krill saw his eyes go wide as, around them, a sudden buzzing seemed to fill the air. It even began filtering in over his radio receptors.

The hairs on the human’s arms were standing up despite the rain.

Krill didn’t have time to react as suddenly the human launched forward tackling him back onto the porch, through a runnel of water. They hit the deck hard, rolling over the damp wood and onto the dry patch just beside the wall of the house. Krill yelped in surprise and pain ready to yell at the human for his strange behavior.

But the human had his ears covered and eyes shut.

Krill had no time to react as he was suddenly blinded by a horrific bolt of light so blinding it took up his entire vision, and then a massive repeating explosion that sent shockwaves through the air around them. The ground shook and sparks flew in every direction as the massive sound rubbled away into nothing leaving him dazed, blinded and reeling.

The human sat up from where he had landed on the deck.

“Hot damn! That was close.”

Krill turned his head to glower at the human as another distant bolt of lightning cut across the sky.

“What was that!”

“That my friend was a lightning strike.”

“A LIGHTNING STRIKE! A lightning strike! You mean to say you brought me out during an electrical storm! You wanted to play in the WATER during an ELECTRICAL STORM! I cannot believe you!”

“Hold on, now in my defence I didn’t KNOW it was an electrical storm.”

“Well you were WRONG and we almost DIED.”

“You were enjoying it before earth decided to be a bitch.”

Krill turned in an exasperated and panicked circle, “Is this something that you humans do a lot! Like intentionally go out into electrical storms and dance in the PUDDLES.”

The human shrugged, “Getting struck by lightning is a very rare occurrence, and I had no idea that one was coming to visit.”

“This planet with all of your unchecked electricity running rampant!”

“Well what do you want me to do, control the weather! Harness the elements, krill?”

Krill waved his hands over his head, “I am going inside. I should never have trusted your judgement about earth weather. Electrical storms! Honestly!” He turned around and marched inside, followed by the human a few moments later dripping wet and rolling his eyes just slightly.

Off in the distance, another crackle of lightning lit up the interior of the room sending a rumble through the ground. Krill toweled off while the human went to change his close.

The room darkneened, and suddenly there was another horrific flash of light and thunderous eruption. All the lights went out and krill squealed in shock hiding behind the couch as hail began pelting the windows now darkened.

Another crack of lightning sent stark white light to illuminate the front room before plunging them into blackness.

The hail grew heavier,

Krill curled up in the corner.

A light flicked on somewhere in the distance, and he looked up to find Adam walking down the hall spinning a little lever on a flashlight which grew brighter with every rotation of the elver.

“Pretty cool huh!”

“COOL IT JUST TOOK OUT THE POWER. WE ARE GOING TO DIE.” 

“Calm down and take a chill pill my four legged friend. IT does this all the time, probably just hit a transformer or something. The power will be back on soon.” He set the flashlight down on the table beside Krill and went scrounging around in a nearby drawer, “We will be safe just as long as we stay away from the pipes and outlets if we can.”

He withdrew a small box, reaching inside and striking a small wooden stick against the outside of the box. There was a sudden flare of fire the stick sparked to life. Krill leaped back as the human held the little fire stick between his fingers, reaching into the drawer and lighting a string protruding from a block of wax. He set the block on a dish and then out on the table.

The flame flickered and cast orange light around the room as he walked over to sit next to krill leaning his head back, “That was always one of my favorite sounds.’

“What?” Kril Asked still staring at the open flame the human had left unattended on the table 

“Thunder”

Krill glowered at him, “you like the sound of eminent destruction.”

He shrugged, “I don't know what to tell you. Its Calming.”

Kril was about to explode on the human about how NOT comforting the sound of thunder was when he raised a hand to silence him, “Well not when its right next to my head, but from a distance it is so…. remote , beautiful, and powerful. Lightning and thunder are the greatest unchecked power of nature, the bolts of which can burn hotter than the surface of the sun. He stood, walking over to a chair not far away and retrieving a blanket which he wrapped around himself before coming to sit back down, throwing his legs up on the couch as he leaned his head back to rest against a pillow.

He almost looked sleepy as the rain intensified.

Waffles walked over and jumped up to lay with him resting her head atop his chest with a soft grumble.

Krill stared at the both of them in near horror.

How was this ok?

Outside the window just before them, distant bolts of lightning cut purple and blue branches across the sky. In a way it reminded krill of human veins and arteries. As the candle flickered on the table, Krill’s mind was brought back to the word petrichor. Rock and the blood of the gods. In a surprisingly human turn of thought he mused at how the forks of lightning were like the veins of those gods that brought the rain leaving the human body a distant echo of something much greater.

He turned his head to the side, where the human now lay sleeping, wrapped like some kind of strange burrito with his head sticking out of one end and his feet sticking out the other.

Topped with a dog.

Krill sighed and rested in the darkness continuing to watch the storm as it passed overhead.

Beside him, the human hummed gently in his sleep once or twice.

Rocked to sleep by mother nature.

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

I just read the Erwin date scenarios and it’s so hood AGH could you please do one for armin? Plz 😚

You read my mind👀 ngl I think about Armin each time I write something for Erwin, despite them being alike i like to compare the differences and think they have different tastes and love languages.

Erwin strikes me a more act of services and gift giving guy while Armin would definitely go for words of affirmation and quality time.

Type of dates with Armin PT.1 {pt.2 in masterlist}

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, romance | modern }

{ "in bloom" by Abbott Fuller Graves 1859–1936 }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday, etc.

1. Spending a full day on the beach: when i say a full day I mean it, he's driving you there really early in the morning while you're struggling to stay awake in the passenger seat. He doesn't even need coffee he's running on 100% pure determination and will.

You'd arrive before anyone there, to get the best spot of course. It's close enough to the sea that you can feel the humidity of the water in the air, yet far enough from the rest of the beach that other people won't bother you.

He'd understand if you were too sleepy to help him set things up, he'd just kiss your forehead before letting you go back to sleep, promising he'll get you something to drink when the stores open.

You wake up to the smell of your favourite hot drink, just around 8am. The sun is up and the air is refreshing, you can hear the quiet chatter of people far away just arriving here. You sip your drink as Armin guides you to the small comfortable space he made, proudly showing off his work.

Please praise him and give him a kiss on the cheek, he will melt.

The rest of the day is spent with you two swimming lazily in the water, feeling the warm sunlight on your skin. Collecting whatever pretty seashell you see, using some to decorate the sandcastle Armin built with you. He takes a pictures of you at seemingly random moments, he promises to show you when he devolps them later.

You help him dry his hair afterwards, he take you to get ice cream. Despite getting you one too, he still ends up sharing his own with you, and if you're up for seconds he'd happily oblige.

When night falls and the people began leaving, the waves of the ocean get a little higher, wind turning colder. Don't worry, Armin thought about that, that's why he brought blankets.

He'd wrap you both in the same one, even holding you close to him, it's for warmth he says and yet he seems like he was looking forward for this. You help him in making a small bonfire, he brought marshmallows.

The rest of the night is spent with you laying against him while huddled in a blanket, looking at the heavens above and the constellation of the stars.

He takes your hand in his, guiding your finger to where polaris is. "It never changes" he says "no matter what" and from that star, he guides you through the formation of the little dipper.

Just right under it, directly under the polaris, begins the big dipper, a close replica to its little sister.

You spend hours like this, looking at the stars as new formations come and go with the time. You were early enough to catch Aries as it was leaving, pleiades, the seven sisters shining brightly next to it.

And just after midnight it was Sirius turn to say goodbye. That's when both of you decided to call it a night, he hugged you close to him, you could feel his heartbeat slowing down, he was oh so warm and tasted just like chocolate and marshmallows when you kissed goodnight.

2. Going on an adventure and trying new things: Armin has the need to try new things and gain new experiences, despite being someone who prefers small groups of friends and getting lost in a book than socialising. It's something that's been a part of him since he was a child, he wants to experience what the world has to offer and won't say no despite how utterly terrifying it can be to him.

And he wants to have those experiences with you, to share his love for the unknown with you, to see your reactions and share his own thoughts. The only thing that's better than going on adventures to him is going on adventures with you.

An adventure could be anything really, it could be going diving underwater or going to that creepy looking supermarket that never closes, you never know. An adventure is an adventure after all. The possibilities are endless.

So don't be surprised when he asks for you to go with him sky diving for his birthday despite knowing how terrfied he is of heights and how even a carnaval ride can make him sick.

Good or bad he doesn't care, he just wants to try and learn everything. He's full of curiosity and surprises that you'd never get bored, although a good thing about him is that he never is unprepared.

Yes he will take you on seemingly dangerous adventures but know that he really deeply thought about this before hand and is prepared for all the different scenarios that could happen, he likes the unknown but he's smart and cautious on how to approche it.

Not to mention that a single adventure can leave him satisfied for a long time before craving a new rush, probably once or twice a year. Just frequent enough to be something to look forward to but not too frequent that it becomes boring or too repetitive, he manages to keep that balance and walk on that thin line.

3. Hot air ballon ride: just imagine, it's early autumn, the weather is just right to wear those cozy yet good looking clothes, the earth seems like it's turning slower than usual as the trees change colours.

Around sunrise or sunset, both of you are high up in the air, the sun clearly in view with the golden clouds surrounding it. The world managing to look so small yet so vast at the same time.

Armin is wearing his favourite sweater and scarf combo, he's holding your hand in his pocket to keep it warm. It's just you and him isolated from the rest of the world like other people dont exist anymore, and strangely he's okay with that, at peace even.

He brings a camera and captures how the sun reflects in your eyes, how the chilly air makes you rub your hands together for warmth and how utterly breathtaking you look.

Beautiful, gorgeous even, these are the only thoughts in his mind at that moment.

And so Armin made a promise to himself that in the far future, when he wants to be even closer to you, to vow his life to yours, he'd propose on a hot air balloon.

But as much as he likes staying up in the air with you being his angel, the process of booking a ride is much more complicated and time consuming than he originally thought. Meaning he doesn't get to enjoy these rare heavenly moments as he wants to.

He needs to make reservations in advance, not to mention how important it is to choose a trustworthy company. Lastly how rides depend on the weather conditions, needing to reschedule if the weather takes a turn to the worse.

4. Visiting the aquarium or planetarium: he's just a boy with oceans for eyes and stars in his smile, can you really blame him for gravitating towards these places? Or for diving too deep in knowledge about the sky above and sea below?

Whenever the weather is too harsh for a beach trip or the sky is too cloudy for a stargazing night, these two places are his to go backups.

He's memorised the place like the back of his hand, no need for a map. Want to see the shark tanks and how they're doing? He'll take you there and introduce to them and the silly nicknames he gave them. Or how about saying hello to the dolphins who'll show off some moves just for your attention, or maybe you miss seeing the adorable penguins wobble around?

He knows endless facts about each fish kind, he makes it seem so fascinating and the way he phrases the information and coats them in milk and honey makes it impossible for you not to engage.

You both could have a slow with few words spoken walk and it still be as interesting, he'd even make special playlists to listen to while walking around and sharing his earphones.

Meanwhile at the planetarium, sometimes in the early mornings you'd run into kids just arriving for their school trip. Racing each other to the solar system panel and looking in amazement when the stars show begins. You and Armin have a nostalgic feeling when watching them, yet when you look at each other you remember how good it feels like to be grown and have someone special.

You never could get bored of seeing the stars, especially not with Armin.

5. Trying a new kind of art: one time you asked him what does he think the meaning of art is, what even is art?

"Art is communication" he said.

Armin has a deep love and appreciation for all kind of art, from classic oil canvas paintings to old greek sculptures. He doesn't pick a side, he likes both the modren and classic.

Music is art, writing is art and even making pottery is a form of art too. He wants to experience it, not for a need to acolmplish something or to rival Shakespeare, but for a need to communicate his emotions in a more subtle and personal way.

Like a secret language only he can decipher the meaning of, after all he was the one to create it.

Whenever he tries a new form of art, his usual fear of failure and absurdly high expectations actually go out the window. There isn't good and bad art, there's just different levels of communication and different styles.

So to him, the act of bringing you both some watercolours and cotton papers to paint on for a date is incredibly intimate, that's his true feelings and emotions he's showing you. But don't worry, he isn't here to take the whole thing seriously, he's actually playful and mellow most of the time.

Or maybe he'd like to make pottery with you, an excuse to put his hands around yours while sitting intimately close, maybe even give your shoulder a couple kisses while you shape the vase you agreed on making.

The next day, you find the finished vase near the window with a sunflower arrangements inside.

It also could be you two sitting next to each other, working together on a page of an adult colouring book or maybe to each one his own book. He'd hog the color blue most of the time so watch out, and don't lend him yours because he will hog it too.

Or maybe as a fun past time, you'd both attempt to make poetry, expect you're getting more and more drunk on the fruit flavoured beer he brought with him. You had fun laughing while reading what you came up with the next morning.

6. Going fruit picking in summer: it's his favourite way to celebrate the arrival of his favourite season, wear something light, pack some lemonade and go enjoy what mother nature has to offer.

You two would walk around in the fields, he's wearing a straw hat to block the sun, he thinks it looks better on you. Both of you looking at the fruits waiting to be picked, choosing the really unique shaped ones, the colourful ones and the especially delicious looking ones.

You might meet some small friends along the way, like a couple ladybugs that were crawling up Armin's arm. Two butterflies dancing in the air and even a frog that's taking a walk from its lake home nearby.

Going home that day with baskets full of different fruits waiting for your use, Armin and you discuss all the different ways you could use them for, like making delicious smoothies, or maybe saving them for baking a pie or cake. Maybe cutting them in small bites and covering them with different kinds of chocolate, maybe just making a fruits salad to enjoy while Armin reads you a book

Or maybe, maybe just washing them and eating them raw. Yeah that option sounds the most appealing after a day of walking through fields in the sun.

He'd feed you some, push them against your lips and smile when your eyes subtly light up at the sweet taste....maybe a kiss after so he could taste it too?

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

In The Air Tonight

From The MoonBrella Academy

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: sex (penatrative, m/f), erotic asphyxiation, death, angst, PTSD, mentions of war, magic, general Klaus-induced chaos. GIF by @sheehanspam

A/N: During the summer of 1974, The Kostas family feels more than the oppressive weight heat. A true prophecy warns them something is on the horizon. Something that will set the course for the rest of their lives all thanks to the man out of time and a baby they promised to raise.

Honey found her balance after straddling Leon. Her hips rolled in a steady rhythm of back and forth. Her husband reached up to caress her breasts. She seized his wrists so tight, her manicured nails dug into her own palms.

Leon, switching gears, grabbed at them roughly instead. He pinched one of Honey’s nipples swollen then the other. They were lost perfectly in his grip as he massaged them, played with them as Honey rode him. He growled and she cried out before moving his hand towards her mouth to suck and bite at Leon's finger and thumb.

They were like a couple possessed. There was something in the air like static. Manhattan was the hottest Honey had known it to be. Everyone drifted slowly and drenched in sweat on the streets and in her apartment. It had been quiet during the worst of the heat. Only Diego and Klaus dained to still visit.

Earlier in the evening, up on the roof with their feet solidly in a wading pool, Leon and Honey sensed Klaus was uneasy about everything. He complained that the temperatures and the electricity in the air was suffocating him. Making his skin crawl as he stripped to his underwear. Everyone was in stages of undress, even the littles were naked and Honey topless.

“It's like Vietnam. The humidity is cellular. I feel strange and twisted.”

“Murderous, but fancy a good shag?” Leon’s query settled across the roof. “Like you could kill who you..” he mouthed fuck.

Two sets of verdant eyes gawked at Honey who suddenly sat up and covered her breasts. “Knock it off, the both of you. You're creeping me out.”

Somehow they made it through dinner and bedtime and MASH and Carol Burnett before Leon threw Honey over his shoulder. She squealed and mimicked trying to escape, but it only spurned Leon into grabbing a fistful of her ass. He maneuvered her around so she could wrap her arms and legs around him while they lumbered and kissed and undressed towards the bedrooms.

“Shhh,” Honey admonished with a strangled laugh. She pointed at the doorway to Sugar and Sunny’s room.

Klaus had passed out on the floor between the tiny beds, his head in his arms on his stomach. Sunny half poured out of the bed with a hand on his.. uncle? Brother? Klaus’s head, little fingers tangled up as he sucked on his free thumb.

Now here they were maybe hours later, insatiable. The air was stifling and had a magnetic crackle that raised the hair on their bodies as they kept having sex. Honey pushed it out of her mind that metal objects were slowly shifting in one direction as she placed Leon's hand around her throat. Her body rocked up and down faster.

There was a blue tinge to the sky and lightning. Heat lightning Leon insisted. It set Klaus on edge with the kids playing around him. He and Sunny tested out telekinesis while Selina danced to David Bowie. Her dark eyes were covered by Klaus’s literal rose colored glasses. He kept zoning out. Like he was waiting, waiting for the consequences of all of his actions.

“Tio Topolino, watch me!” Selina spun with her arms up in the air. Uncle Mouse. Klaus had been too hard to say before she learned her parents’ native tongues.

“Something is coming, Gracie.”

“Why would you say that, Leonidas?”

They were whispering in Greek. The littles weren't quite ready for Greek yet, but Klaus was born fluent. So they spoke in hushed tones on the fire escape.

“Doesn't it feel that way? The last few Weeks. Klaus usually leaves after a day. He's been here for nearly two months. There's bound to be repercussions, right?”

“Not much happened that he's said, or we read, as the result of Vietnam or 1960-1963.”

Leon rolled his eyes at his wife and made a tsk sound, “Just a bloody apocalypse or two. That Dickensian fuck who raised him got a whole new legion off it. Klaus talked you into having our baby. Then into taking another baby he stole. Skip a stone on a pond, and it makes ripples, don’t it?”

Honey hated when her husband was right. And her vagina loved how smart he was. She had looked in the window in time to see Sunny stand and toddle towards Klaus. His eyes glossed over and lost their irises. It was as if he had gone blind.

The parents scrambled through the window towards their son, but Klaus had him by the tiny hands. Sunny's pudgy fingers curled around his.. The larger ones for stability.

“Sunny?!” Selina shook her baby brother lightly.

“Klaus what the fuck? HELP HI-!” Honey yelled but Leon clamped a hand over her mouth.

“He’ll be ok,” Klaus sort of cooed. His voice was low and gentle. “I remember these. It happened so much when I was a kid. It's the innocence I think. I lost this ability because of Reginald.”

“He's in a trance, love. Like in all those movies with seances where the medium goes wonky, and they've got a message from the other side.” .

Everyone held their breath. Then a delighted shout came from the boy. “BIRB!! BEN!!” Then his eyes came back into focus; he threw his arms around Klaus’s neck. As if that was what he planned the entire time.

“Ben?!” Two men with the same face asked simultaneously. “That's my brother.”

“That was your brother’s name?” Klaus spoke first. “Maybe that's where I got it. When Mom asked us to choose our names based on our birth countries, I thought Germany was mine. My brother was Korean, but he couldn't settle on a name. Ben came to my mind. It felt.. familiar.”

Leon walked over to his kids and his twin, or clone, or whatever Klaus was, and picked Sunny up. The toddler stuck his thumb in his mouth and flexed and unflexed his little chubby fingers in his daddy’s long curls.

The matching mess of hair covered Leon's neck and chin as Sunny laid his tiny head down on the elder’s shoulder. The little yawned as his hand now absently stroked Leon's goatee.

“He died in Cyprus. He fought for Britain against our own people. He defected and was killed,” Leon said so casually. “He was 20. I was 16. It was really bloody difficult being an immigrant. A refugee. We left Greece during the Independence War when I was a year old. There's so much death, mate. All around us. I'm just really so sorry you and Nicklaus have to see it up close. I hope here, with Honey and I, they're a bit friendlier.”

Klaus had offered to conjure Leon's brother. His Benjamin. Leon declined. One day, maybe, but 15 years still wasn't enough time. That The Séance had likewise lost his brother in battle at the same age was empathetic enough.

Everyone was a bit melancholy, the air more humid with a spark, Klaus offered to get the littles to bed. Asked if he could crash in their room tonight instead of on the couch. The couple didn't mind.

Really, if Klaus could somehow, they both preferred he just stay here permanently. Honey could keep an eye on him that way. She and Leon knew Klaus had to go back and forth, maintaining his own timeline.

Except the last time he came was two years after he smuggled Sunny to his parents. He promised five minutes. This time it had been over a year. The Kostases were worried the next time he showed up, it would be the 80s. Or they would be old, their kids in their forties.

It was a silent agreement between Leon and Honey that they liked Klaus being around. “But what’s the price WE end up paying?”

Now there they were in the throes of it all. Honey encouraged Leon to tighten his grip around her neck as she scratched at his forearm. Their bodies gyrating in ways they hadn't in years. Not since before Selina. As if they couldn't fuck each other harder or faster.

Honey started to see black spots on the corners of her eyes. She relished in the struggle to breathe. Looking down, the blue tinted midnight sky with its wild lightning reflected back at her through Leon's eyes. He looked deliberate, livid. She knew she looked barking mad to him.

Honey tore at her tits and hair as she felt an orgasm coil around her sex and stomach. She was lightheaded and unable to scream out like always. She began to laugh as best she could like a woman possessed. Rode Leon through his explosion inside of her. She mentally willed it to get her pregnant.

Such a strange thing to wish for while Leon was killing her. Except he wasn't really, was he? Honey could feel herself pass out when there was a massive explosion in the sky over Manhattan.

Leon immediately let go of his wife. A blazing white light that blinded both of them filled the bedroom, and a squawking noise sounded from down the hall. Then yelling from Klaus lost somewhere in the present and possibly Vietnam. There was giggling and the patter of feet with more incoherent shouting and swearing from the littles’ room.

The bird noise only grew over the shouting, so Honey covered her ears to drown it all out. Leon looked stunned. Like he had woken from a terrible dream. That little girl laughter. The patter of feet running down the hall. The yelling and squawking all stopped. Cut off, as if the couple had fallen deaf.

“Mummy!” Selina exclaimed delightedly. It would be strange to Honey that her daughter had developed an accent like Leon's. Except that's who she spent most of her days with. Eventually Selina grew out of it, and Little Italy would take over.

“Can we keep him?! Are you and Papa playing?”

Honey knew Selina’s little head would be tilted. Little forehead wrinkled as it gathered between her eyebrows, tiny pink mouth slightly agape. How Honey loved finding more of Leon in her daughter every day.

“Keep what, Poppet?” Leon asked while helping Honey slide off of his lap. They weren't being modest, she just clearly was coming down from an adrenaline rush.

“This!” Selina held something large and black aloft. That squawking sound again.

Her parents froze. Selina held a raven nearly the size of Sunny in front of herself. It blinked its bright ebony eyes a few times, but was rather calm for being squeezed by a 5 year old. It, he. They knew it was a he. There was even affection on his face.

“Blimey love, whatcha got there?” Leon dared to ask. He was more fascinated than scared. The corvid set Honey’s hair on end.

“It’s Ben, Daddy!” Selina made a tsk noise and rolled her eyes. Little female Leon. “Sunny told us he was coming! The sky was filled with blue people, and Topo was scared. And Sunny’s little hands were blue and Topo’s were too and then Sunny started to fly. He's on the inside roof! Is he Mary Poppins?!” Selina could barely breathe, she was so excited.

“Those blue people are sad and Topo saw one and started to cry. That blue people is Dave. Then the bird came,” she held him out again towards her parents, “and he started making noises at all the blue people and they went away except three and Topo won't stop crying and Sunny is giggling. I'm tired. Can I sleep with you?”

As calm as they could muster, Honey and Leon got out of bed and put on clothes. Leon scooped up Selina who held the raven like a baby. Her dad ignored it. They made their way to the second bedroom where a blue light emanated into the hallway.

Like Sugar said, Klaus was on his knees crying into his hands. Sunny bobbed along the ceiling. He pushed off of it and bounced back up. The little boy’s laughter was a creepy juxtaposition to his older self gently weeping on the floor.

Honey knew. Leon knew. The “blue people” were ghosts. All of that static, that violence and heat in the air the last few weeks were the dead. Crackling and surfacing, begging to break through now that TWO mediums were together. It was, they immediately understood, Klaus’s sheer willpower that had held them at bay. But he was vulnerable, lost vigilance. They all broke through at once.

“Fuck me,” Leon managed at one of two soldiers. He was taller than Leon, but no mistaking his best of curls and angular jaw. Honey knew in life he had dark eyes. “Βενιᾱμῑ́ν?” Benjamin?

Dave, the woman knew, had been Klaus’s lover in Vietnam. He died saving Klaus and their regiment on the front line.

Except Honey could tell that wasn't true. The Commission had him killed to fix the timeline. They were different, not governed by violence more like stern warnings. As if parents instead of a dictator ran them now. When would they come to scold her family?

Lost in her worry, Honey didn't see the third man. The melancholic one with a cigarette perched in his fingers. He wore a giant suit jacket and equally large pants. There was a transparent tumbler of whiskey in his other hand.

This one, this ghost opened his mouth. At the same time Klaus sat up, his head cocked. Then he spoke, and a voice Honey hadn't heard in ten years came out.

“Hiya, Gracie.”

Honey began to weep. “Uncle Lenny.” She hid herself away so he wouldn't see the tears.

“Aw c’mon dollface. It's ok. I'm ok. I'm not ruining my life anymore. I do miss the stage. And Kitty. Tell Kitty I love her, will ya? And Honey, my Honey. That Kindergarten hooker. Spiteful bitch. I miss them. Proud of you, Gracie. We gotta go, ok. The three of us got wrapped up in all that jazz. By the way, cute little fuckers ya got there.”

Lenny tipped his head at Honey and Leon. Then he was gone. They were all gone. Everyone left behind in their wake to cry harder. To mourn in disbelief. Then giggling brought them all to.

Sunny floated down enough for Klaus to catch him by the ankle. He held the little boy to his chest, and Sunny patted him on the cheek. His hands weren't glowing anymore as he shoved a thumb in his mouth. Then, delighted, he gave a shout in the direction of the raven:

“BIRB!!”

@neuroticpuppy @nightmonsters @magic-multicolored-miracle @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @ghouls-buddy @vonkimmeren @messengeronthemoon @frogs--are--bitches @bisexualnathanyoung @elliethesuperfruitlover @070188 @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private @duck-noises @sylvertyger